Cast a Shadow

Though the hallway was a straight shot out of the egg chamber, it did eventually fork into different paths. I hadn't seen hide nor hair of the alien guy since I'd left, and the idea that I might not find him again was not one I wanted to entertain.

I held my breath and listened for footsteps or the rattling sound he made. Anything that would let me know in which direction he'd gone.

Despair settled in my chest like a stone: nothing but silence met my efforts.

"No . . . no," I whispered. My hands trembled and I brushed away the wetness on my cheeks. Though there was no one to talk to but myself, the silence would drive me mad. "Come back, give me something—anything."

The semi-darkness was worse than actual darkness: it spread shadows that toyed with me. It conjured sounds that weren't there.

I picked one left-most path on a whim and ventured into the darkness. Wandering without a sense of direction was dangerous, but there wasn't much else I could do.

Not two minutes into my chosen trail, a screech sounded from behind me. I twisted, throwing myself to the ground to avoid an unseen attack.

A roar followed that screech. I was on my feet again in an instant, sprinting back the way I had come, stopping again at the splintering corridors. After a second I heard the sounds and took off down a different path.

So I ran toward the noises, ignoring the voice in my head telling me to run AWAY. If it was the humanoid alien from before, or even a different one, I'd have a better chance of survival being near them.

The cluttered hallway opened into an equally cluttered room. There were several pieces of technology strewn about, broken and sparking. Two serpents perched upon the wreckage, their backs to me and facing a humanoid standing in front of them. I stopped short, afraid they'd see me, but skidded on slime. I stumbled backwards into the hallwayout of sight.

Though the wall obscured my vision in part, I was able to recognize the humanoid as the one from before: the same mask, the same wounds. He held a spear in his hands as he squared off with the shadowy aliens.

He loosed his spear, pinning one to the wall. The other one leaked at him; he grabbed it by the throat. His wrist blades sang from their gauntlet

and he plunged the serrated bladed down, slicing its head in half. He let it go and it dropped lifeless to the ground.

The last one thrashed where the spear had it pinned, hissing and spitting. Each time it opened its mouth, a second set of jaws popped out, snapping at the air and making a cold tremor slither down my spine.

There were more pest aliens strewn about: he'd already killed so many. Smoke rose from their corpses—or rather, from the floor they settled on. To think he'd taken the half dozen or so aliens by himself . . . while injured. I didn't know how hurt he was, but between the crash and his fights, he had to be in bad shape.

And yet there he was.

He sauntered up to the pinned alien as if he had all the time in the world. It hissed and lashed out at him with its long, deadly tail. With the same deftness he continued to shore, he caught the appendage and sliced the sharp tip clean off. The alien screeched in rage but a blade to the face shut it up.

The serpent slumped to the floor as he yanked his spear free. Both his blades and the spear retracted with a metallic hiss; his wrist blades disappeared into his gauntlet and the spear telescoped inward from both ends.

After he considered the corpses he made, the humanoid turned toward my hiding place. I ducked further behind the wall and held my breath, hoping that he hadn't seen me. That same curious chittering noise reached me.

I waited a few seconds before I allowed myself to exhale. Slowly, I leaned so that only half of my face was poking out from the wall. His back was to me, his form receding into the dark tunnel on the other side of the room. After a few more of his long steps I was on my feet, crouching low and trailing after him.

This time he didn't disappear into thin air. I figured it had something to do with the fact that the aliens he was hunting didn't have any eyes. After all, what good was it to hide if your enemy didn't see?

As I trotted after him, I stuck close to the walls. Despite being pretty athletic, I was sweating and panting after only a few minutes of brisk walking. The ship was too hot for the clothes I was wearing, but I didn't want to remove my jacket. Not when it was another layer to protect my fragile skin.

It was several minutes before I caught him looking over his shoulder at me. I knew I wasn't being as quiet as I could have been with my over-sized military boots, but I was doing my best.

Each time he turned his head I ducked behind something to hide when I could, and other times I could only flatten myself on the floor. A thick mist floated above ground and I hoped it covered me well enough. In every instance, he'd wait a few seconds, crackling to himself in a strange way, then move on.

I hated sitting in the fog. It was thick and cloying on my tongue, stealing my breath, but I stuck it out. I was more afraid of being caught than of holding my breath for a few seconds.

He moved through the dark corridors with practiced ease, even without a light. I chalked it up to him knowing the ship like the back of his hand. Maybe his mask helped; like night vision goggles.

Unlike me who was left to bumble about in the pitch.

An upturned floor panel reached up and grabbed my foot at some point and I let out an undignified squawk before I could stop myself, but managed not to eat it. For a moment I held perfectly still to make sure he hadn't heard, but he wasn't even in sight.

Panic quickened my steps, but as I turned down a bend I found him. He was crouched close to the floor, rubbing his fingers together. He stood as I appeared and moved on.

When he was ahead, I scuttled to where he'd been and examined the slime smeared there. I wasn't sure what was interesting about it.

After following him around for who knew how long, I lost him. I couldn't seem to catch my breath no matter what, and even if I pushed myself, the heat and thick air sapped my strength and slowed my every stride.

As I was thinking about giving up, a scuffle urged me onward. When I arrived, I found him under attack in the hallway, facing off with another serpent. I hid, crouched by the stifling floor, and watched him square off with the creature. He widened his stance, arms up and fingers splayed, but had yet to draw a weapon.

Why didn't he use the gun? He'd almost shot me with it earlier, but I had yet to see him use it to kill any of the alien pests.

Instead he favored his wrist blade, extending it with a flex of his arm. There was something different about the alien he was facing: it wasn't so black, more of a muddy brown. The big protrusions I'd noted on others were smaller, and it seemed almost hesitant to attack. Instead it circled, hunched and wary, hissing warnings.

It was smaller, too. The others I faced had appeared larger than life, and they all held themselves with far more confidence. I had incorrectly assumed that they were all the same.

Before I could further study the smaller alien, the humanoid man-alien made his move. He lunged and the serpent hissed, meeting him half way in an act of self-defense. Their grappling match didn't last. My escort dispatched it with a few swipes of his blade, growling in satisfaction. I watched with morbid fascination as the alien pest sank into the floor, its blood corroding the material.

Lost in thought, I nearly missed the sharp growl from across the room. I'd been staring at the dead serpent, captivated by the fact that these things had acid blood. My unwitting escort had made the noise, and by the time I looked up, his back was to me and he was leaving.

I was beginning to believe he DID  know I was following him. Maybe that he even WANTED me to. Probably my imagination.

Careful not to step in the corrosive blood, I jogged after the humanoid; he was already around another corner. When I caught up, I made sure to keep at least ten steps behind him, sometimes even farther back. Just close enough to barely make him out.

Where was he even going? Something told me it wasn't out of the ship.

It seemed more likely, based on the way he followed their trails, that he was hunting them. He reacted to each screech with a sharp turn, an idle rattle. Every now and again he would check a digital map projected from his wrist computer and alter course.

Holograms. Should have expected it.

Sometimes I thought he was looking for something else, as well. Several times I lost him, only to find him emerging from a room. His movements were always subdued afterwards, head tilted down and shoulders rolling. Either he didn't like what he found, or he hadn't found what he wanted to. He always closed the doors behind him, so I never discovered what was inside.

Every one of my muscles ached. The heat was dragging me down and I thought about ditching my jacket several times, only to remind myself that I needed it. My throat was dry, and I lagged farther and farther behind.

Soon, he was gone altogether.

Sweat dripped down my brow and I knew I couldn't handle it any longer. I shed my winter coat and tied it around my waist, loathe to leave it behind. I was instantly cooler, and I rolled up my shirt's long sleeves.

If I could take off my long underwear, I would have.

I needed to take a break, to catch my breath, but I couldn't afford it. I'd never been so breathless after walking, and it felt like something was squeezing my chest. In areas where the mist was thickest, I found the hardest time breathing.

It had to be the atmosphere in the ship, or the mist itself. Something to help the humanoid's species breathe. The system must not have been damaged in the crash.

Still I pushed on. Having a hard time breathing wasn't anything new. It wasn't like it in every part of the ship, either. It seemed to worsen deeper in, only for me to find relief in other sections. Malfunctioning equipment, no doubt. Or holes in the hull leaking air from outside.

Finally, though, I caught back up top him. Loose wires and tubing concealed his shape, but I caught a glimpse of him standing statue-still, his head inclined in my direction. When I pushed through the fallen circuitry, his back was to me and he was walking again.

He couldn't have been waiting for me. I had to have imagined it. I couldn't fathom where he'd be leading me or why he'd be leading me there.

Unless it was a trap.

That was an all-too-real possibility and I considered abandoning the game I was playing. He wasn't looking for an exit and I was, so I would be better off finding my own way.

No, following him was still my best shot. Maybe I should let him catch me, or force him to acknowledge me. I was tired of sticking to the shadows, wondering where we were going. If he wasn't going to kill me, then maybe I could convince him to help and stop the game of cat and mouse.

What did I have to lose by trying? Well, except my life.

With that thought in mind, I stood up straight and jogged around the corner. He'd passed it only seconds before me, so it would be nothing to catch him.

I trotted into the next hallway and found it empty. Nothing but mist and a few panels from the ceiling hanging down.

He wasn't anywhere. Just gone.

"Shit, shit, shit," I whispered, running my hand through my damp, sticky ponytail.

Now I was alone.

After a few deep breaths to steady myself, I accepted my fate and continued onward.

High up on the walls, strange markings gave off an ambient red glow. Though their main purpose didn't seem to be lighting the way, it kept me from being cast in utter darkness.

I focused on the lights and let them chase away the shadows.

First, I took a moment to find somewhere hidden to rest: a collapsed wall made for a nice, shielded cubby. I shed some of my other layers, shuffling clothes around until I was no longer wearing my long johns, just the long-sleeve shirt and my jeans.

It lightened my load and cooled me down, and I left them there, seeing no reason to keep them.

It was around that time I heard a noise.

Whatever it was, it began as a faint whisper on the stale air. I hadn't heard anything in nearly twenty minutes, which I'd counted as a blessing.

Now, though, I had a new hope. A hope that I'd found the alien man again and not just another pest.

Deeper in, the sound was louder and easier to comprehend: a voice.

A human voice.