1942664419 (S) (20 page)

“It’s okay, here you go.”

He sprang onto my hand, fangs extended and piercing my skin. I screamed, shaking him off and showering the water across the singed grass.

The
grassen
bowled over three times and scampered under a bush. Breathing heavily, I checked my hand. Despite feeling the sharp teeth, there wasn’t a mark on me.

Shoot.
I leaned toward the bush. “Dude, I’m sorry. I thought you were trying to bite me.” Feeling like the biggest jerk ever, I poured some more water and steadied my hand on the dry, cracked soil. “Here you go. I promise I won’t throw you again.”

Three glistening orbs jutted out of the bush. I didn’t blame him for being cautious.

Big-stupid-hit-the-poor-helpless-spider girl.

His fangs came out. No, definitely not a helpless bug. He moved out with hesitation reminiscent of a tarantula stalking its prey.
Please, please, please don’t be stalking your prey.

He inched up to my hand, his fangs elongating as he reared them back, ready to strike. My mask fogged up again, momentarily blinding me. I readied for the pain, but only a gentle tickle caressed my palm.

I adjusted my mask and grinned as the water disappeared from my hand with only the three long fangs submerged.

“So those are like straws, too? I get it.”

I rubbed the extra droplets onto my jeans and Spidicus shook himself out like a dog trying to dry off.

“You’re just as lost as I am, aren’t you?”

He settled down, laying his belly in the dirt like a duck ruffling its feathers to get cozy in a nest. How could I have ever been so afraid of anything so cute?

“I need to give you a name.”

He adjusted his weight, kicking at the few uncharred plants around him.

“How about Edgar? You look like an Edgar.”

He seemed to startle at the name, and I laughed. But my next breath hitched.

No air!

My heart thumped in my temples as I gasped. Where was the air?

I felt around the edges of my mask, looking for some kind of switch to turn it back on.

A mouthful of air entered my lungs. I relished it, afraid to exhale. What if there weren’t another?

Edgar hopped on four of his ten legs, holding the rest out to his sides. His gaze seemed centered on me. I managed another breath, but not much of one. I fumbled for my cell phone. Two hours, eight minutes, fourteen seconds.

I wheezed. Nothing.

Could David have been wrong about how long I had? Did I use up too much air running?

My eyes grew heavy, but a tug deep within my gut brought me to my feet. I had to go on. The trees spun, and I stumbled. My backpack slipped from my shoulder and thumped to the ground.

Hard. Too hard.

Edgar warbled and ran into the bushes.

I coughed, and the material surrounding my face sucked in, covering my throat like a plastic bag. I pulled at the mask, but it only tightened. My stomach clenched as if being pulled from my body by a tether leading into the woods.

On my hands and knees, I crawled several feet before sliding to the hard, charred grass.

I rolled onto my back and stared into the trees. My brain pulsed against my temples as I tugged at the mask. A red haze coated my vision.

A pinpoint of light came through the trees, warming my face.

“Mom?”

I wanted to welcome what I knew was inevitable. I cried instead, but I couldn’t even sob. The tears pooled between my eyes and the fabric, taking what room was left for air.

I pulled at the bag, opening my mouth for a scream that couldn’t come. The light above opened up to a broad, sunny playground.

Mom sat beside me on the swings. “I heard you didn’t make the soccer team.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Did you even try out?”

I realized I was gaping and snapped my mouth shut.

Mom smirked. “Don’t look so surprised. You always hated soccer.”

I shivered. “Are you going to tell Dad?”

“That you’re not going to play soccer this year? Yes, but as far as I know, you didn’t make the team.”

My heart swelled, but I also felt like pig poop for lying to Dad. “I joined photography club instead.”

Mom’s eyes widened. “That’s awesome. You’ve always loved to take pictures.”

“Dad’s going to be pissed.”

“Watch your mouth.” She looked across the street at a woman walking a dog. “He’ll get over it. You have your own life to live. Maybe someday you’ll get on the cover of National Geographic.” A broad smile graced her lovely face. “Wouldn’t that be awesome? I could tell everyone my little girl took that picture.”

Mom’s smile faded to gray, replaced by green-shrouded fog. I tried to take another breath, but the bag sucked into my mouth, strangling me. Clawing and ripping at the fabric, I managed to pop a hole beside my mouth, and then ripped the rest of the fabric from my face. The cool bite in the air stabbed my cheeks. My eyes watered and burned.

The poison! The noxious fumes!

What had I done?

I tried to hold my breath. The green mist seemed to sink toward me, the harbinger of my death. I closed my eyes and inhaled.

“Jess! No!” David’s voice touched me, welcomed me into the abyss.

Something jostled the ground beside my face as the scent of rose potpourri and a hint of ash filled my senses.

Home. Sweet. Safe.

A warm hand covered my nose and mouth, stealing the scent from me. My breath pilfered from me again; I struggled under a grip much stronger than my own.

Treetops faded to gray as a shadowy figure blocked what was left of the sun. My body quivered as the world succumbed to darkness.

23

I hid at the top of the stairs. Tears streamed down my cheeks, moistening the carpet beside my bedroom door.

“She lied,” Dad screamed from the kitchen below. “Nothing you can say will make that right.”

“She never liked soccer,” Mom said. “
You
like soccer.”

“She needs to get out more. Interact with someone other than Maggie.”

“The Bakers have always been our best friends.”

“I’m aware of that, but she needs other friends.”

“She has other friends. She joined the photography club.”

“Photography? What kind of loser club is that?”

Minty green haze coated my vision. Something sharp poked my back.

Was I lying down?

Someone shook my shoulders. A deep, resonant voice echoed within my head. “Dammit, Jess. Breathe!”

I gagged as something slithered into my throat.

“Happy birthday, Jess.” Grandma handed me a brightly colored package.

Dad’s grin slithered away. “That’s a pretty big box for a gift card, Mom.”

Grams lifted a shoulder. “I couldn’t resist.”

I tore through the paper and gasped as I uncovered the Panasonic logo.

Holy-lee-crap.

I ran my fingers across the box, part of me not believing it was actually in my hands.

Dad rubbed his temples. “You bought her a camera?”

My father faded into the distance, replaced by layers of clear webbing and a blurry figure leaning over me.

Can’t. Breathe.

I scratched and clawed at my mouth, desperately trying to pull out whatever obstructed my airway. Weight bore down on my chest and shoulders, pressing me deep into the ground.

“Breathe, Jess. Try to breathe!” the voice shouted.

But I couldn’t. Whatever was inside me suctioned everything out. My vision started to fade.

We’d come so far, but now I’d die here. And no one would even know.

Something snapped, and frigid air entered my lungs. I sucked deeply, choking on whatever was in my throat.

“That’s it!” the voice cried. “Just keep breathing!”

I spluttered as whatever was in my mouth pulled free. A hazy image of a huge tube passed over my eyes.

“Take a slow breath. You’re okay.”

I closed my mouth and breathed through my nose. The air was sweet, reminiscent of lying beneath a lilac bush. I let my lids fall shut, enjoying the resonance humming through the air around me. Safe. Warm. Nothing could ever hurt me.

Wait. What?

I bolted upright. The haze cleared, and I focused on the most beautiful turquoise eyes I’d ever seen. Stunned beyond belief to be breathing, let alone staring at a dead guy, I froze.

David gaped. “Are you okay?”

No. I wasn’t okay. I was dead. We were both dead. Maybe he didn’t know that?

Deep, dark shades of olive surrounded us. Shouldn’t it be bright? Pearly gates and all?

David tilted his head. “Jess, please say something.”

I blinked twice, trembling among the tall trees and green-tinted darkness. I was still on the planet. But if I was still on the planet, that would mean …

“David!” I flung my arms around him. “Oh my God!” I thrust him away and stared at him before pulling him back to my chest. “Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!”

His arms encircled me. Warmth, serenity, and love flowed between us, infusing me with everything that was David. He was alive. We were both alive.

Nothing else mattered but that moment. We sat in silence. His movement, the slow, calculated rhythm of his hands on my back, told me he was drinking me in as much as I was bathing in him. I didn’t care if I never let go. Everything was okay again.

David held my face, searching my eyes. “I thought I lost you.”

He lost
me
? “I saw your ship explode.”

He nodded. “That’s two for two crash landings for me. Maybe I should retire from piloting.”

I laughed. “Yeah, maybe that would be a good idea.”

David eased my head to his shoulder. His sigh told stories I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear.

“The ship is gone,” he said. The nerve center is intact, but the hull is scattered. We’re—”

I shushed him with a finger over his lips. A few hours ago, I was stranded on an alien world, terrified and alone. Now I was back in David’s arms. We were alive, and we were together. For now, that was enough.

I reached up to wipe a tear from my cheek and jumped when my fingers grazed my naked skin. “Where’s my mask?”

“You ripped it. You scared the life out of me. If I hadn’t been here … ”

“But how are we breathing?”

He waved his hand. The air around us shimmered. “This is a hostile surface bubble. It cleanses toxins from the air.”

I flapped my hands, but the air didn’t react. “Where does it come from?”

David held out his arm and fingered a shiny, black oval banded to his wrist. “The dome forms in a thirty-six span radius of this ovoid. We need to stay close together, but it should be able to filter enough air for both of us.”

The tall trees and haunting green air didn’t seem so frightening anymore. The cold did, though.

I rubbed my shoulders. “Why aren’t you freezing?”

“I am.” He stood and grabbed my backpack and ration case. “Come on, we need to go.”

He led me through the trees to a mound of branches. He pulled one up.

“Crawl in there.”

Okaaay
… I slid beneath the pile into a cozy, hollow nook: a covered divot in the ground not much larger than a two man tent, like a warm-weather igloo. I plopped down into the thick, cuddly grass and crossed my legs. The ceiling lay only a few inches above my head.

David glided beside me and pulled down the branches like a door.

“Not too shabby,” I said.

Inclining, he laughed. “Yeah, I improvised pretty quickly last night. It gets cold here, fast.” He checked a few of the branches above us. “I had to protect myself, too. There’s a
grassen
out there. Not sure where it came from. It nearly took my head off last night, and almost bit me twice today.”

“Edgar?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“He was in my escape pod. He’s been following me, just like in the ship.”

“You gave it a name? Keep away from that thing, Jess. It’s unstable.”

“No, he’s sweet. You just need to give him a chance.”

He settled deeper into the leaves. “I think those fumes got to you.”

“Maybe, or maybe I’ve always been crazy. I have a habit of picking up aliens in the woods and taking care of them.” A grin spread across my lips, despite trying to hold it back as I cuddled beside him.

“If you gave that thing anywhere near the attention you gave me, he’s a lucky little bug.”

“He’s not a bug. I thought he was an important part of the ship’s biological something-or-other.”

“They are, as a whole.” He rubbed his hand. “Apparently alone they’re little pieces of …”

“Be nice.”

He ran his fingers down my temple and along my jawline. “I was worried about you.”

I gave him a quick kiss. “And I’m so glad you’re not dead.”

David pulled me to his chest. “This is nice. It reminds me of the woods on Earth. Do you remember holding each other at night in the forest?”

I smiled. “I’ll never forget.”

His breathing steadied and his grip on me relaxed, as if he’d fallen asleep. I took his hand and pulled his arms tighter around me.

Alone, again, in the woods. But this time no one knew where we were. David took a deep breath, and I relished the sensation of his chest pressed against mine. Perfect.

It was this sense of contact that I needed. The connection. How could I ever find this with anyone else?

I could feel him, and not just physically. He was inside me. Part of me. The lost piece of my puzzle was back, and he fit seamlessly. We were one. Right. Back where we belonged. Even if we were stranded in the middle of God knows where.

My eyes grew heavy, and I gave in, allowing them to close. We could worry about cohesion and parts of the spaceship later. Now, everything was right where it needed to be.

“Goodnight, David.”

He whispered in Erescopian, tightening his grip on me. I had no idea what he’d said, but it sounded tender, loving.