But right now? He’s rattled. And that makes me scared. “Vektal?”
He cups my cheek and gazes into my face. Then, he peers into my eyes. Puts a hand to my forehead, then to my breast. Asks a question I can’t make out.
I frown and shake my head. “I’m fine? What’s going on?”
“Georgie,” he says and then utters something else that I’m pretty sure is “Come with me.”
I put on the heavy furs, and he nods, helping me bundle up. When every inch of me is covered in shaggy hides and I’m practically sweating, he tugs me onto his back and out into the snow we go.
It’s a lot warmer this way, and I’m rather enjoying the snowy weather as Vektal does the hard work, tromping through the deep snow. The two sickly-pale suns are out, and the world looks rather beautiful right now. Like a snowy paradise.
I’m so busy admiring my surroundings that I don’t notice Vektal has stopped until he nudges my arm and then gestures at the snow.
There’s something in the drifts.
Somehow, I don’t think this is a hunting kill. My stomach churns sickly, and I slide off his back. Holding my furs against my body, I move forward and brush a bit of the snow aside.
It’s a face. Human. Red hair. Her eyes are open and frozen.
I gasp. Dominique. Her clothing is ragged and dirty, and it’s clear from the tinge of her skin that she’s been out here for a while. She’s frozen through and through. A sob escapes me, and I look at Vektal.
He points at the girl, his eyes pale as if with shock. “Georgie?”
“No, I’m Georgie,” I say then point at her. “That’s Dominique.” Then I try to teach him the word “human” by spreading my five fingers. I can’t stop sniffling. What is she doing here? Did they send her after me? Another sob catches my throat. “Vektal, we have to go up the mountain. Please.”
“Mountain. Human?” he asks, voice low.
“Yes,” I say, feeling frantic. While I’ve been fucking around with an alien and eating and wearing warm furs, the others are starving and cold. I point up the mountain. “Please. Please let’s go up the mountain. More humans.”
He nods and lets a stream of syllables fly. I don’t understand them, but when I gesture that I want on his back again, he hauls me against him and begins a quick pace up the snowy hills and past the cliff we spent the night at.
This time, we’re going up the mountain. I want to sob with relief. Instead, I keep thinking of Dominique’s frozen face. Poor Dominique. What happened? Why did they send her out with no clothing? It’s a death sentence. Were they so desperate they had no choice?
“Hurry, please,” I tell him. He doesn’t understand the word, but maybe he hears the urgency in my voice. His pace picks up.
It takes at least two hours of Vektal’s steady, measured pacing before I get a glimpse of the black hull of the ship. It’s almost entirely covered by snow at this point, and I suck in a breath at the sight of it. That can’t be warm, no matter the insulation. Up this high, there aren’t many trees and there’s no wildlife. The air feels thinner, and I wonder if the aliens deliberately stranded us at the most inhospitable site so we wouldn’t run away.
Fuck that. We are getting out of here today, and I am taking my girls with me.
I just pray they are still alive.
Vektal points at the black oblong vessel that had broken off from the ship. “Sa?”
“Yes,” I tell him. “Sa!”
It takes a bit longer for us to get up to the discarded portion of the ship. The slope is rocky and steep, and going up proves to be a bit of a challenge that I hadn’t had while going down. We get to the edge, and I see a snowy drft is high enough on one side that it can act as a ramp. It must have snowed a lot here. Ugh.
I drop off Vektal’s back and nudge ahead, taking the lead. The breeze is picking up, so I swaddle the furs closer about my face and climb up the ramp. The hole is covered by the tarp, so I tug it up.
A snowball immediately hits me in the face.
I sputter, wincing and staggering backward. It’s nailed me right on the nose, and my face throbs, my eyes stinging.
“Back the fuck off!” A voice yells. Another snowball lobs in my direction, and I duck it.
Vektal gives a furious cry, pulling me behind him, rage lighting his eyes. As I watch, he pulls two bladed, carved short swords from his vest.
“Wait,” I yell. “Guys, it’s me! Georgie!”
Silence.
“Georgie?” A voice cries. It sounds like Liz. “You’re alive?”