Alien Breed

“She’s mine!” Zakar screams, scratching Turin’s face with his long talons.

Turin stumbles. Blood forms in parallel rows on his cheek.

Slowly, he heals, but Zakar rushes him again, throwing him into a pile of glass.

Falling to the floor, I latch onto my neck and suck in impossible breaths, dry heaving. Quick and hot, my head burns as my vision comes back to me.

I don’t know if I can keep doing this. I’m at the edge of what I can take.

Zakar pins him against the wall, dragging his talon across his chest.

I cry out in horror. “Zakar, let him go.”

But the wicked alien places a talon against his throat and slices, slow and methodical.

Panicking, I think of my body and the life that has started to grow inside me, and I feel the courage to scream.

“You’re pathetic,” I say.

I look down, and I still have my palm around that jagged piece of glass. My hand drips with blood, but I can’t feel a thing.

Zakar pauses.

“Worthless,” I add.

Numb, I’m ready to end this. I’m ready for anything.

Zakar turns, and I leap up to rush him. His mouth opens to bite, but he’s taken by surprise. I drive that piece of glass into his mouth, through his throat, and I make sure it cuts right through to his spine.

The alien falls to the floor, limp, but slowly regenerating.

“Naomi,” Turin mutters. “You… you...”

I collapse against him, wet with sweat and blood. I have no tears left to cry. I’m just so exhausted.

“I couldn’t get the servers to work,” I say.

Zakar twists in agony on the floor, choking on his own blood and bits of glass. As the seconds pass, his wounds heal.

“Then we keep running,” Turin says.

Hugh rolls around the corner and stops. In his hand is a small cable and power generator. “No,” he says. “Enough running.”

A smile slowly forms across my face.

Turin breathes. “Do it,” he says.

He flips the switch on the generator. The entire facility makes a vibratory noise. One by one, the lights turn on.

Zakar slides against the floor, away from the server room.

“No,” he whispers, weakened.

The servers turn on next. A solid hum generates. The noise shifts in frequency as it searches for a connection.

Zakar twists in agony, screaming. His teeth shoot out of his mouth, biting the air.

His eyes are wide with fear. His head grows large and small. “I can’t die,” he croaks.