The red light winks at me.
If that’s the wreckage I’m thinking of, there’s no survivors.
But what if I’m wrong?
But…what if they have food? And guns? And things I can use to survive? Right now I’ve got a pocket knife and maybe a handful of trail mix left.
I chew on my lip, thinking, and toy with the spyglass, flipping it through my fingers. It’s been surprisingly handy, and it wasn’t even meant for this. Who knows what kinds of goodies the other alien ship will have? I put the spyglass in my pack. I sling it over my shoulder, put my snowshoes back on, and head down the cliffs, toward the wreckage.
If I’m here, I might as well see what I can salvage.
* * *
The wreckage is a bit further away than it appeared in my stupid spyglass. Okay, a lot further away. I hike for the rest of the day and don’t make it there before the suns start to set. There’s not much shelter around, so I find a few scrubby bushes to act as a windbreak and spend the last hour before sunset pushing the snow higher into the bushes so they form a wall. I have a bit of a dugout and I build my fire there, spending the entire night shivering and feeding more fuel to it so I don’t freeze.
By the time morning comes, I’m exhausted. I let the fire die and take a quick nap in the sunlight until the bleating of a nearby dvisti herd wakes me up. I head off toward the crashed ship again, and when the suns are high in the sky, I arrive at the ship.
HAEDEN
It takes everything I have not to go to Jo-see’s side during the night and offer to assist. She would not appreciate it, and when I see her creating the windbreak with the snow, I know she is smart. She will be fine, if not comfortable. Still, I stay closer than I normally do, my spear at the ready, and watch over her. She is in the open, and if anything tries to approach her, I will gut it for daring to get near my mate.
After her morning nap, she takes off again and I follow behind her, far enough so she will not notice me. As I do, I notice that her path crosses other tracks in the snow. I slow, letting her get ahead so I can study them. I crouch low and touch one. The snow has not crusted, which means it is fresh.
And the clawed toes? Metlak. Many of them.
Jo-see’s in danger.
JOSIE
The flashing light I’d seen in my spyglass is a lot brighter the closer I get. It’s an exterior light of some kind, and blindingly bright, making me see spots every time it goes off. I shrug off a fur wrap and throw it over the light, only to hear my fur sizzling and the smell of burning leather. I quickly yank it off again. The light’s so hot the snow melts when it touches it. Well, that’s not a good sign.
I circle around the wreckage to give it a once-over. There’s snow piled up around it and so I can’t make out the shape, but the boxy end that’s torn open and sticking out of the snow? Yeah, that looks familiar. The mountains that looked like purple glass from a distance are clearly ice, and I’m amazed at the massiveness of them. This ice must be hundreds - or thousands - of years old to have formed mountains, and at the base, I see a tinge of green. Okay then, how did the ocean become green if these mountains are purple? I wish I knew. Maybe it’s algae or something. I’m not a scientist, so I can only guess. But the snow that falls is white, as are the drifts covering the craft, which tells me that this is definitely a recent addition to the landscape. I circle around it one more time, trying to determine how big it is. It’s not like the ancestor ship, which is a long, rounded oval as big as a shopping mall. This one’s more like a wedge, I think, and as long as a city block. Most of it is buried in snow except for the cargo end. If there was debris - or bodies - they were covered by the snow a long time ago.
I’m kind of glad for that. I don’t want to see a bunch of corpses sticking out of the snow. I shudder at the thought.
I approach the busted end of the spaceship that sticks out of the drifts. It’s tilted to the side and one end sticks out high from the snow, but the other end is climbable with a little effort, I think. “Hello?” I call out. “Anyone home?”
No answer. Not surprising, given the remoteness of the location or the fact that the ship’s crashed. If this was Kira’s ship, everyone was dead before the thing ever landed. I swallow hard at the thought, squeamish. I’ve seen TV shows with car accidents… I hope I’m not going to see corpse-splatters all over the inside of the ship. Or worse, corpse-splatter-popsicles. I press a mitten to my mouth and hurk a little.
But I’ve come this far. I need to keep going.
After the overheated flashing light, I worry that parts of the ship will be too hot to touch. I throw my fur wrap over the part I’ve designated as my point of entrance, and when it doesn’t sizzle, I climb in to the dark hollow pit. “Hello?”
No answer. No light, either. Crap. I retreat back out and attack one of the scrubby bushes nearby, taking twiggy limbs and ripping them off, then twisting them into a bundle. I hold my bundle against the flicking emergency light until it smokes and then lights up. It’s a crappy torch and drips embers everywhere, but it’ll do. I don’t plan on staying down there long. It gives me the creeps.
I crawl back into the busted hull carefully, torch in hand, and start to explore. I thought this was the cargo area, but apparently not. It’s a different part of the ship, and it looks like the entire thing is turned sideways. I’m in a narrow hall and standing on what was probably a space-window or something. There’s furniture and other small objects peppered on the floor, mixed in with debris, and I kick through it, looking for guns. The aliens that kidnapped us originally had guns that looked a lot like clubs the size of a rifle, and I could use one of those.
There’s a door half open ahead of me, and I hold my torch aloft, peering in.
Bodies. Lots of bodies, frozen in their seats. I stagger backward and retch, then get angry at myself for doing so. Of course there are bodies. Quit being so girly, Josie. I picture Haeden chastising me, but instead of filling me with irritation, I’m filled with wistful sadness. I wish he was here. He’d hold the torch and put an arm around me, and it wouldn’t matter that I’m a little girly and scared, because he’d be by my side. And he only needles me because he’s scared of how fragile I am.
The realization strikes me like a brick.
That’s why he’s so protective. That’s why he’s such a dick when I try to be independent and is constantly talking about how women should be protected. He’s scared someone’s going to die and then the remaining mate will have to suffer like he has.
Maybe I’ve been too mean to him.
I pick a different passageway and head through it, determined to be strong. It’s a dead end though, blocked by debris and slag and hanging cables. I can’t go further, so I turn around and look for the next passage.
A short time later, my torch is burning down to cinders in my hand and I haven’t found anything useful. Well, scratch that. I found a room that was private quarters, and the only things not rotted away were a small blanket made of a weird, plastick-feeling material and a cushion-like pillow made out of the same. I stuff them both into my bag even though I don’t know what I’m going to do with them. I decide to check one last hallway before heading out, because I’m determined to find something I can use.
But the moment I step through the next doorway, I’m hit by old memories.
This is the cargo bay. Or was. There’s a hole in the ceiling that is letting light in, and there’s a light dusting of snow in the middle of the floor. The cargo bay’s contents are scattered everywhere, crates smashed and their contents destroyed. I swallow hard at the sight of this place. If I close my eyes, I can hear the crying, smell the unwashed bodies, see the faces of the guards as they leered at us…and more.
I bite the inside of my cheek until I no longer feel like screaming, or weeping. I’ve already cried over that, and I won’t give it more time in my head. I shake the bad memories away and focus on the good things. If this is the cargo bay, maybe there’s food. Maybe there’s supplies.
When I turn to the left, though, I see them.
Tubes.
Oh God.
I head toward the wall, trembling. There’s a thin coat of ice on it, and half of it is collapsed. I can barely make out three tubes. I brush a hand over the snow and ice and immediately amend my count. Two tubes. There’s nothing but scorched remains of the third, the wall crumpled away. I hope you didn’t have an occupant.
When I smooth away the ice and snow over the next one, though, the green light flashes. I remember that light.
It means there’s someone inside.
“Shit. Fuck. Damn.” Saying the words aloud doesn’t make it any better, but it feels necessary. I run a hand over the next pod’s panel. Yellow lights flicking to green. I don’t know what that means, but I’m betting it also has an occupant. “Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!”
This? This I’m going to cry over. I allow myself to burst into tears and sob.
Because now I have to go back.
11
JOSIE
When I emerge from the ship, I don’t expect to see another person in the distance. But up on a distant hill, I see blue skin and horns and the graceful movements of a male sa-khui locked in combat. It’s obviously Haeden. I recognize his motions even as my khui starts a low hum in my chest. My anger and frustration at being followed disappears when I realize why he’s turning on one leg and flinging a spear. He’s fighting something that looks…well, a bit like a skinny grey yeti. A metlak, my brain tells me, though I’ve never seen one. I’ve heard the stories. They’re tall, monkey-like creatures that are almost as intelligent as they are vicious. Liz has told me hair-raising tales of running across them in the wild, and I’m alarmed to see one here.