Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 135784 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135784 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
I do, not daring to move. I hold the towel just over the bench, my back aching from being bent over, but I'm too scared to straighten. I feel intensely vulnerable naked, but more than that, I'm unarmed. I wish I had a gun, or a club.
And Sleipnir. My Sleipnir. He'd protect me. I wonder if he smelled this intruder earlier when I thought he was sniffing out the broom? Did he notice the scent of another and silly me thought he just wanted a new chew toy? I'm an idiot. I've been so trusting, and now I'm going to pay for it. I raise my gaze up to my captor, daring to look at him.
It's one of the bird people. The V'tarr. He's covered in a fine layer of golden feathers, his face beaky and triangular. His eyes and hands are raptor-like and there's an arching plume at the back of his head. He wears a black uniform and boots, and looks like some sort of demonic cross between Big Bird and a humanoid.
He nudges the blaster's barrel toward me again. "Where are your credits?"
"M-my credits? I don't have credits."
He tilts his head, then nods, and to my horror, I realize he's talking with someone else via comm. Someone else is on this ship, too. "We heard you speaking earlier. Your mate said there are credits. Where are they?"
I blank out. Jerrok mentioned that there were credits, but I don't remember where he said they were. Oh god. Jerrok. Is he safe? Is he being held with a gun to his head, too? I have to get to him. I lick my lips, trying to think. Better yet, trying to stall. If I can keep this guy with me, hopefully that means Jerrok is safe. "I don't remember," I say, and it's not hard to add tears and a whiny note to my voice. "Please, I'm just a human."
The alien gives me a look of disgust. That's fine. Let him think I'm pathetic. That's how I've survived for so long. I cringe in front of him, and all the while, my mind is racing. What do I have in here? What can I use? My tunic is in the corner, along with my belt, but it's a decorative one. My boots? They're soft except for the flexible soles. Shit. I've got nothing, and I want to scream with frustration. Where's Sleipnir? Desperately, I think of my carinoux, but he's no doubt happily chewing on his new metal stick, oblivious to the danger I'm in.
"If you don't know, you're no good to me," the alien says, waving the blaster in my face.
I whimper in terror, flinching when he pokes me in the face with the butt of it. "Please…" I'm good at simpering. I managed to do it for nine years, all the while nursing hatred in my heart. "I'll do anything you ask, just don't kill me."
It's the right thing to say. Demon Big Bird gets a pensive look on his face, and he lowers the gun, just a little. "I've never seen a human before. Stand up so I can get a good look at you."
I pretend to be meek as I get to my feet, all the while thinking seething, angry thoughts. I just need him to lower the gun a bit more so I can take it from him, and then I'm going to fill his birdbrain full of holes for threatening me and my Jerrok. I slowly stand, and when he makes a gesture with the gun, I turn, presenting him with my backside before slowly turning to face him again.
"Interesting creature," he murmurs, and then gestures at his crotch. "Well? You said anything."
Fuck you, I think silently even as I drop to my knees in front of him. Fuck you, fuck you. I'm not even scared anymore, I'm just angry. I notice his hand close to his waist, and his grip is looser on the blaster all the time as he grows more and more distracted. I pretend to be an idiot, fumbling with his belt as if I don't know how an auto-fastener works. "Please," I whine in my best sorry voice. "Help me with this?"
He puts his hand on my face instead of on his belt.
Close enough. I turn and sink my teeth into his skin.
The bird-alien screeches in pain, and the blaster goes clattering to the slick tile floors. I spit out a mouthful of feathers as I release him, scrambling after the gun. Before I can reach it, one clawed hand grabs my leg, and faster than I can move, the alien crawls over my body and slams my head into the floor.
I see stars. A bright wash of red, and stars. Pain blasts through my skull and all I can do is lie on the floor, utterly dazed, waiting for my brain to right itself again.