The Runaway Alien (The Lost Planet 9)

It’s the sound of claws on rock. The snarls of a primordial beast.

Something is in the tunnels.

Hunting us.

I stumble for the door and pull it shut, but as soon as it hits the frame, it bounces back open. Crying out in frustration, I pull it closed again. The second time it happens, I realize the frame has been knocked off-center. That’s what made the door pop open. If I’m going to get it to close, I’ll have to force it shut.

The sounds of the beasts in the tunnels grow closer. They can hear Henry’s screams, my frantic pleas. They’re coming for us.

I yank at the door, pulling with all my might. Strength I didn’t even know I possessed. The handle grows slick with my sweat, but I hold on for dear life. I see their shadows slithering in the inky blackness through the crack in the open door and I don’t want to find out what they are.

Using my foot on one side of the frame, I use my weight to pull against the door. It closes ever so slightly. I grunt as I jump to put my other foot on the other side and pull with everything I have. It inches closed another little fraction and I take a deep breath, then pull so hard, I swear I strain muscles.

The door slams shut, and I crash into the floor. As I’m pushing myself up, a great bulk crashes into the door from the other side. Then comes a snarl that reminds me of teeth and tearing and blood. Of death and dismemberment.

Henry is crying so hard he almost can’t breathe.

“W-What’s that, M-Mama? I d-don’t l-like it here. I want to go back.”

“I know, baby. But we’re okay. We’re safe.”

As though to contradict my words, there’s another explosion. Thinking of the door, I run to it and slam a metal rod from the control panel into the handle to keep it from popping open again. The wild snarl repeats and then there’s the sound of claws against metal.

Whatever it is, it’s trying to get inside.

Trying to get to us.

I scramble for the radio and call out to whoever may be on the other end.

Someone. Anyone.

Please help us.

2

GALEN

The mountain behind Lake Acido is one I’ve begged Breccan to study in the past. Because of its location, it should be teeming with plant life. Additionally, because it’s near a massive water source, I presume the water funnels beneath the mountain, which means more plant life to discover. Plants mean food and when the beasts are scarce, it’s our only source of nutrition. To me, it was foolish not to study.

But, like usual, I was denied.

It’s not safe.

To Breccan, nothing is safe. For such a large, fearsome mort, he certainly fears more than the entire faction combined. If he knew I went here on a blind mission with no assistance, I’m not sure what he’d do.

It doesn’t matter what he does when he finds out because it was necessary. There wasn’t time for discussion. No moments to waste considering alternatives.

Stella and Henry are in trouble.

The Kevins have arrived and the explosions behind me have been plentiful. Thankfully, any time I glance back to see if my home still stands, I see more Kevin ships falling from the sky. Oz’s thermablaster is effective. They don’t need me.

No, the two threatened by sabrevipes need me. And being needed is something I didn’t realize I’d been craving. Watching how the female aliens need their mates is almost too much to bear. I want to provide and care for someone.

I run faster, ignoring the pain in my gut, as I approach the base of the mountain. Several plants growing nearby capture my gaze, but I don’t have time to inspect them. I prowl around the base of the mountain, seeking entry. When I hear a sabrevipe roaring from within, I follow the sound to an unnatural cut into the stone. I have my zonnoblaster ready as I creep inside the dark crevasse.

Once inside, I turn on the light on my mask so I can see ahead. Several pawprints as large as my face are pressed into the red dust at my feet. As much as that unnerves me, I press on. Draven and Breccan may be fierce hunters, but we’re all born with claws and fangs. I can hold my own when I have to. Just because I prefer growing over killing doesn’t mean I didn’t receive the same training as the rest of the morts.

I weave my way through tunnels, blindly following the sounds of the beasts. If it weren’t for their roaring, one could easily get lost inside the maze of tunnels. It makes me somewhat thankful for the sabrevipes making so much rekking noise. I feel like without it, I’d never find my way to Stella and Henry. Booms continue to shake the earth. Every so often, dust crumbles from the ceiling or a boulder crashes. It’s not safe, but I don’t have a choice.