Die Trying

I broke into a light jog, following the call for help. It was weak, as if they had been trying for a while and had lost their voice. Though I didn't recognize it, I was all too happy to see another living person.

The voice of reason deep within my mind reminded me they were likely dead to rights, but I pushed such thoughts away. If it meant having company for a while, so be it.

"Hello?" I called, my voice soft and timid.

I reached an opening in a wall; the room was devoid of light. It was where I'd heard the person calling, but I wasn't about to enter until I was certain.

After a pause, they spoke up. "Someone's there? Oh thank god, get in here and help me down."

"Coming."

The room was darker than any other so far. A light flickered in the corner, but the room had lost power otherwise. I barely made it inside before I tripped over something knee-high and soft.

I hit the ground, jarring my wrists, and scrambled to my feet.

"Watch it," the man inside hissed. "There are eggs all over the place."

All color drained from my face when I realized what that meant. I didn't know why it came as a surprise, but it left a bad taste in my mouth all the same.

My sight attuned to the dark and my pulse roared in my ears—more people on the wall. Open eggs. Dead facehuggers peppering the ground. Holes in chests. I panted ragged breaths, tears pricking my eyes.

For a moment, I'd forgotten about the man I'd come to help and all I saw were the people staring at me with their sightless gazes.

"Hey! Don't—Christ, you're just a kid. Okay, listen. Look at me. I'm over here. Hey!"

His commanding tone was enough to snap me from my waking nightmare. I searched the room until my attention fell on the only living and conscious person present.

There were plenty of military people, and others yet were the missing hikers and rangers.

"Yes, that's it. Come here and help me down. Please." His tone was softer, his expression sympathetic.

I hesitated another moment, then picked my way around the eggs until I stood before him. Something squished under my boots but I didn't dare look.

"What's your name?" he asked as I started pulling at the resin cocoon confining him to the wall.

I didn't look up from my work, and little by little I wore down the material. "Nichole."

"Nichole what?"

His arm came free and he helped to break apart the rest of his prison. I replied, "Nichole Shain."

He didn't offer his name until the cocoon was loose enough for him to fall free. I backed up to give him room and he wiggled out of the last strains of resin, then fell to the floor. I offered him a hand and he let me help him to his shaky legs. How much time did he have?

"Name's Henry Simmons. Thanks for the assist, Ms. Shain. How'd you get out? How long have you been here? This is a quarantined zone, didn't Anderson tell everyone to stay away? What about our perimeters. . . ," he muttered, holding tight to my shoulder.

Anderson's name sent a sharp pang through my heart and I lowered my head. "There wasn't anyone at the park, we hiked in and the things got us. Anderson . . . he helped me escape."

Simmons nodded and shifted his grip to my upper arm, squeezing hard enough to hurt. I ignored the pain and stumbled after him as he dragged me out.

He glanced at me and said, "He's not with you, so I assume he's dead?"

I nodded and fought to keep my face from twisting with anguish.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hand to his head. He glanced around, then pushed us against the wall, peering into the brighter hallway.

Every few seconds, he suppressed a cough. "Have you run into any other survivors?"

"You're the first."

/Except for the alien gladiator./

"There's no telling how many of those things are out there. We'll have to move quick. Stay behind me and be quiet." He paused to cough and cleared his throat. "Don't know how far I'll make it, but I'll get you out."

He stopped and gave me a critical look. "Unless you got something to tell me?"

I shook my head. "I got loose before, uh, before anything happened to me."

Convinced, Simmons relaxed.

My gaze fell to the empty holster on his hip and I blinked. "Where's your gun?" I asked aloud.

He glanced at his belt, then did a double take.

"Shit," he muttered, patting himself down. "I must have dropped it when those fuckers dragged me here. We'll have to hurry before the eggs start hatching. Stay here."

Without another thought he went to work rooting through the effects of the others. I stood against the wall, wringing my hands, my eyes locked on the eggs. They seemed dormant now, but I knew they could start hatching at any moment.

"Be careful with guns," I advised. "When I used one earlier it lured a bunch of the black things to where I was."

Simmons glanced over his shoulder, but otherwise paid my warning no heed. "Where is it now?"

"What?"

"The gun."

I pressed my lips together. "It ran out of ammo so I left it."

"Fair enough."

It was amazing how easy it was for him, moving from corpse to corpse without a care. How many times had he had to do this very thing?

Chewing on my bottom lip, I poked my head out of the room to check the corridor. There were no enemies, but screeches were coming from deep within. Even though he told me to stay put, I didn't want to be alone at the only entrance.

I shuffled over to him but gave him some space.

"Find anything?" I asked after a moment. We'd been in there too long, and the eggs made me uncomfortable. I was sure I could hear them stirring.

When he turned around, he was holding a single handgun and a tactical knife. He handed me the knife and began examining the gun.

The knife was heavier than I thought it would be, but it filled me with a bit of confidence. It wasn't very big, but it was ten times better than nothing.

/Nice, now I can stab one whole alien. Probably wouldn't even kill it./ I sighed.

"They ambushed us at our base," Simmons said, slapping the clip back into the gun. "We had all our firepower back there, so there's not much to use. I've got ten shots, so let's try not to meet these fuckers on the way out."

His coughing started again and set my shoulders to trembling. Still, I followed him out of the room, spurred on when one of the eggs squelched.

"Are you okay?" I asked, standing by his side and holding my knife in both hands.

He strafed along the walls and I followed behind with half the stealth he showed, knowing it did no good.

Again, I tried to prompt him. "You know what happens to people, right?"

Simmons motioned for me to follow, then stopped and doubled over. My muscles coiled into tight springs as he wheezed and hacked. Each sharp breath he drew caused pins and needles to prickle across my skin, but eventually he straightened.

He cleared his throat and said, "I'll be fine for a little bit. And you said you're good, right?"

"Yes, thanks to Anderson. I destroyed anything left in the room before leaving, too," I murmured, gripping the collar of my shirt.

"Good girl. Ah, wait." He stopped and dug around in his pocket, then produced a handful of chains and a bunch of ID cards. "Hold these for me. Did you happen to grab the ones from the room you were in?"

I took the chains and untangled them, finding the flat metal of dog tags. He'd been looking for more than just weapons on those bodies and my throat tightened.

"No I, I didn't think . . . didn't know I should have . . ."

Simmons pat my shoulder and offered a terse smile before continuing our trek. "That's fine, I didn't expect you to, just asking, that's all."

"Why do you need them?" I asked, draping each tag around my neck.

"Don't know what these things do. They might eat us, and then we wouldn't be able to identify the bodies. Could just leave 'em for when backup arrives, but easier to grab 'em now."

"Backup?" I stuck the hikers' IDs into my phone's case and tucked the dog tags under my shirt. Now that we were in the hallway, I could put my phone away again.

"We're supposed to check in at 0600, and when we don't they'll come."

That was so far away—my phone was saying it was almost three-thirty in the morning. Another few hours. It was a long time, but it was still hopeful: help was going to come. I just had to make it until then.

Though I tried to follow directions and be quiet, I had questions. So many questions.

"This is a spaceship, isn't it?"

Simmons was reluctant to answer. "Yes."

"Do you know anything about these aliens?"

"Not me, personally, but I bet the government does. I just can't figure out how these things were piloting a ship . . . they don't seem particularly intelligent."

I opened my mouth to tell him about the humanoid one I saw, but I held back. I wasn't really sure why, so I tried again but failed.

He must have noticed I had something on my mind because it wasn't long before he promoted me to speak up.

"You got something to say, civ?"

"I, uh, I saw another alien on the ship earlier. Looked kinda human. He . . . they, whatever, is out there killing them," I muttered.

He stopped short and turned to say something sharp to me, but a high-pitched cry interrupted him and made me gasp in surprise.

Simmons grabbed and pulled me against him, his weapon raised.

Darkness extended in front and behind. Simmons backed up, pushing me against a wall, and I held still with the flat side of the knife against my chest.

Something dripped on my shoulder from above; chrome fangs glistened as I looked up. The scream ripped from my throat before I could stop it and I pushed away from the wall, blundering into Simmons.

The soldier shouted and shoved me around so he could stay in front of me.

"How the fuck did it get behind us?" he growled, firing at the ebony beast.

It squealed and ducked as the bullets pelted its head, but it seemed to have little more effect than a BB gun. Simmons pushed us backwards as it leaped down from its perch, tail lashing behind it and teeth bared.

I held the knife out with both hands, but I wasn't sure what good it would do.

Simmons fired a few more rounds, those bullets finding target in the alien's chest. It staggered and squealed, yellow acid dripping from the wounds, but it seemed only to make it angrier.

That was all he had. His gun clicked several times and he spat a curse before throwing it at our enemy. The firearm bounced off its armored head and it hissed in irritation.

Simmons turned and wrenched the knife from my grasp and a protest died in my throat.

"Run, I'll hold it off. You have to get out of here!" he demanded, wheezing with the exertion. I stood paralyzed for a moment, too conflicted to do anything.

He shouted, "Go on!"

The authority in his voice was enough to send me sprinting in the opposite direction. Behind me the serpent screeched and Simmons yelled a battle cry. My legs pumped and I didn't look back.

/Running again./

/Always leaving others behind./

The helplessness of the situation sapped my strength and my will. I could do nothing but run and rely on other people to save me. The monsters seemed impervious to anything us humans had to use.

Running was all I could do to delay the inevitable.

Simmons didn't buy me much time. I hadn't expected him to. It still startled me when the monster struck me from behind and knocked me flat on my stomach.

I flipped over onto my back and had just enough time to roll out of the way before its tail could skewer me.

There wasn't enough space to stand. I kept rolling as its tail stabbed into the ground after me, then jerked to a stop when it pinned my jacket.

My hands fumbled with the knot around my waist while the serpent fought to free its tail. The jacket came loose first and I crawled away before scrambling to my feet.

Not long after, it shunted into me and I was sent sprawling again. The wind rushed from my lungs and I wheezed, still trying to find my footing.

Claws raked down my back, tearing my shirt and skin, and I wailed in pain.

Cold metal brushed my fingers and they curled around a piece of debris the size of a football. My teeth ground together and I turned around swinging.

The sound of metal against chitin was satisfying, but my elbows jarred at the impact. It wasn't even enough to stun it for more than a split second.

The serpent-bug lashed out in kind, smacking me with a strong claw. I was reduced to being prone once more, my impromptu weapon sent skittering across the floor and out of reach.

This time I couldn't stand before it was on me, pinning me down. It bared its teeth in a perverted version of a grin.

No matter how I struggled, it wouldn't budge.

Out of the corner of my eye its tail rose, arched high and poised to strike. Tears fell uninhibited down my cheeks and I choked out a helpless sob.

It hissed and viscous saliva dripped from its maw, pooling on my chest.

Its tail jerked once—twice, as if stuck. The creature went rigid and its lips twitched in irritation. Its claws drew pinpricks of pain in my arm as it turned its head to see what held it.

Just as before, the humanoid alien melted into view, a taloned hand holding the pest's tail.

At the same time the pest turned to strike, he heaved the thing through the air with a mighty swing. It slammed into the wall and he approached its crumpled form with a low rattle.

Before it could recover, he pulled his spear from its place on his back. It extended with a flourish and he thrust it through the alien's skull in the same graceful swing. It let out a strangled screech before going limp where it was.

I tore my gaze from the corpse to look up at him. He twitched his head to the side, his locks clattering together. The same mask. It was my good old buddy.

We watched each other for a few seconds before I averted my gaze. I managed to sit up and wrap my arms around myself to keep from splitting at the seams. Tremors threatened to shake loose all my bits and pieces.

It was going to kill me.

But he'd come, and he'd stopped it. Maybe intentionally, maybe by coincidence. Regardless, I had to pull myself together. There was no time to wallow in my own mortality.

I picked myself up and winced when the various scratches rubbed against the fabric of my clothes. Shouldn't have taken my jacket off.

"Have you been following me?" I asked him, unsure of what else to ask.

It was my first time trying to establish communication and I asked a dumb question. Great.

He turned to face me full on and I quailed. So close to him I realized exactly how giant he was. Never had I felt so small and weak: he had to be eight feet tall, maybe three hundred pounds.

All of it muscle, and he was armed to the teeth.

/Don't sass the armed killing machine,/ I reminded myself.

What was I doing anyway, talking to an alien? It wasn't like he could understand me. For all he knew I could be insulting his mother.

When he took another step toward me and I braced myself, afraid he might strike me. I would have moved backwards more, but there was a wall blocking my path.

My fear flared and I lifted my hands to protect myself—for all the good it would do.

His head tilted to the side, and then a voice echoed from his mask. {"Have you been following me?"} it asked.

Not his voice. Mine, tinny and mechanical.

Was he recording everything? Communication, surveillance, research: there were plenty of reasons why he might do that, but the thing that struck me the most was that he understood what I'd asked.

He comprehended enough of what I'd said to throw my question back in my face. What the hell kind of alien was this, and how often did they visit Earth?

"You can understand me?" I asked, my head spinning at all the possibilities and implications.

He'd known I'd been following him, and now I felt only embarrassment at thinking I'd been slick.

After glancing me over, he made a gruff sound and dipped his head once. It was a slow, deliberate, and exaggerated motion. It wasn't the quick nods I was used to, but close enough.

Translator, or good with languages?

I opened my mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out so I closed it again. He filled the silence by playing my voice back at me once more, demanding to know.

I imagined the low chittering sound he made now was in irritation as I ignored his question.

My mouth bobbed as I tried to find the words, then I finally said, "I asked you first."

He snorted and extended his hand toward me, making me flinch in expectation of an attack. Instead, he moved me out of the way with shove to my should. The action sent me staggering behind him, nearly falling.

Biting back a protest, I turned and watched him. I was against a wall, so I hadn't been in his way. He'd just shoved me because he was mad and started to walk away, leaving me behind.

His form melted into nothingness.

/Not this time./

"Hey! Hey come back here!" I shouted, running him down in the hallway after grabbing my jacket.

I slammed into his invisible back with enough force to almost flatten me and he reappeared with a snarl, whirling around to face me.

Without flinching I regained my balance. "I'm coming with you!" I snapped.

The humanoid cocked his head to the side and rumbled an incredulous question.

Before he could make any more noise, I continued on with my rant. "I can help, or something. I'll . . . I can be bait, or if you give me a weapon I can fight!"

Not that I actually expected him to just hand me one.

He regarded me for several heartbeats and I tried to seem firm. I hoped he didn't notice the way my hands trembled, or how my heart stuttered.

After several seconds, he turned to the side and made a wry crackling sound before playing back another clip of my voice. {"Bait."}

It wasn't what I'd hoped, but he was going to let me follow him around nonetheless. I wasn't going to be alone anymore.

Despite how he ignored my question on purpose, I asked again. "Can I at least have a weapon?"

His head shook and at first I thought it was to indicate in the negative, but he looked around. I surmised it might be to show exasperation, but I wasn't sure.

I waited for him to do whatever it was he was doing, and finally he walked toward the wall and leaned down to pick something up.

{"Weapon,"} he played back, dropping a piece of scrap metal into my waiting palm. The same piece of scrap metal I'd used on the serpent moments prior.

My expression flattened and I huffed. He'd been watching at least that long.

"Oh you got jokes, do ya?" Under my breath I added, "Bastard . . ."