Chapter 14
Haley
A fire crackles across the room spreading its warm glow to me.
I’m snuggled underneath a cozy blanket enjoying a cup of steaming hot cocoa with marshmallows and reading a book about a dashing silver-haired hero. A thick stack of books waits on the table beside me and I’m planning to plow through every one of them.
Going on vacation was the best possible choice I could make, and I already feel more relaxed.
I glance up and look around the tiny cabin with its rustic log walls, polished wooden floors, and large windows looking out over a dreamy moonlit wintry view. It’s perfect, almost like something out of a fairytale. I feel safe and unbothered about anything.
Not even. . . What? My forehead furrows as I wrack my brain. There’s something nagging at me in the back of my mind – something that I should be very worried about – but I can’t think of it. What is it?
Oh well, it can’t be all that important if I can’t even remember it.
My thoughts are interrupted by a flash of lightning that streaks through the night sky outside illuminating the cozy cabin and shattering the peaceful atmosphere. It’s almost immediately followed by a loud crack of thunder that makes me jump in alarm and nearly spill my drink. I glance out the windows and see that the once calm night sky has been replaced with storm clouds that completely block out the moonlight. Another streak of lightning soon follows and then another until the entire cabin seems to vibrate from the force of the storm.
I quickly set aside my book and cup of cocoa and burrow deeper into the soft cocoon of the blanket, squeezing my eyes tightly closed.
It’s just a storm, and I’m safe.
I repeat those words over and over until my heartrate slows and the sounds of the storm raging outside the cabin grow muffled and far away.
I feel as if I’m floating on a warm cloud, and I rub my face deeper into the plush material of my blanket. My nose twitches as something furry brushes against it and I think about the dog my family had when I was kid and how she would sneak into bed with me and snuggle under the covers. But Sadie died years ago when I was a teenager.
The storm fades away and the sounds around me slowly begin to register, and I recognize the quiet twittering of birds off in the distance. The gentle dripping of water on a hard surface and the whisper of a soft breeze somewhere nearby.
My eyelids lift open, and I blink until finally everything comes into focus. After the exhaustion of the last few days, my brain is a little slower to wake up, but when it does, realization hits me.
Holy fucking shit, I fell asleep.
That’s right. I fell asleep after being thrown over the shoulder of an alien and abducted by him. Abducted for the second time, might I add.
I’m lying on a pallet made of some type of incredibly soft fur situated at the very back of a shadowy cave – please don’t let there be any weird animals in here. A rock wall is against my back, and as I study my surroundings, I realize there is no sign of my kidnapper anywhere.
I should feel relieved that he isn’t here, but instead, disappointment makes my chest tighten and I don’t know what to make of that.
Weirdly, even when Draggar was carrying me through the jungle, I felt an odd sense of safety from him. Like, as long as he was around, nothing would hurt me. Nothing would dare. He would protect me against anything no matter how big or dangerous it was. Just like he did with the dinosaur.
And without him here, that feeling of safety is gone. I’m alone. Like really alone, and to make matters worse, I have no freaking clue where I am on this planet.
I try to think back to what I remember from my walk through the jungle as I searched for Zoe and what I recall from when the big alien carried me through the jungle, and I realize that all I remember is an endless parade of trees, trees, and more trees, with a large rock or two thrown in for a little variety. I certainly don’t remember any caves.
Based on the low slant of light spilling in through the entrance of the cave and how refreshed I feel, several hours must have passed since this morning. Which probably means Draggar traveled a fair distance before he dumped me here.
But why? Why he would just leave me here? I could have sworn that he felt that same strange pull that I did. He fought off a dinosaur with nothing but a sword, carried me through the jungle away from two other dinosaurs, just to abandon me here by myself. Maybe that feeling of safety that I felt with him was completely wrong.
As I ease up into a sitting position, I glance around the cave and study my surroundings. That’s when I notice a satchel sitting at the edge of the fur pallet, and I have a vague recollection of seeing it looped over Draggar’s shoulders. Next to the satchel is a smaller bag and another object that reminds me of a waterskin I saw at a museum one time.
He must have left them here. I pick up the waterskin and feel liquid sloshing around inside. Opening the cap carefully so as not to spill its contents, I cautiously take a sniff and smell. . . nothing. Huh, I guess it is water.
Down the hatch. I take a small sip and the cool refreshing taste of water floods my mouth making me realize just how thirsty I am. I gulp down a few more swallows before wiping my hand across my mouth and twisting the cap back on.
I’d better not drink it all in case I can’t find more any time soon.
Turning my attention to the smaller bag, I open it up and find strips of some kind of jerky – I’m too hungry to even think about what kind of animal it is – that tastes delicious but with a gamey flavor. There are dried purple berries and small nuts mixed in with the jerky that add a touch of sweet and salty that balances it out.
I groan as the complex flavors explode on my taste buds. This is the best thing I have eaten since Earth.
Actually, even before that. My last meal before being abducted was a microwaveable meal because I was too stressed to cook.
The memory seems so hazy, now, and my life on Earth seems so far away. Almost like it happened to a completely different person. I guess I need to resign myself to the fact that I will never have that life again. I’ll never see Earth again.
My eyes water, and I breathe in slowly to keep the tears at bay. I don’t want to cry. If I start crying now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.
But the last few weeks have really sucked and the urge to just sit here and bawl is so tempting.
My thoughts turn to my friends. They’re probably wondering what happened to me. I hope they’re safe and that none of them went out looking for me. Hopefully, they’re smarter than me and stay put inside. The thought of any of them, but especially the smallest of us – Zoe – running into one of those dinosaurs sends a shudder of dread through me that threatens to bring tears to my eyes again.
I blink my eyes quickly and take a few more deep breaths until the tears are gone.
I need to stay sharp and focused right now so that I can figure out what to do next. Especially since I’ve been dumped here by Draggar.
I eat another couple of handfuls of the jerky mixture until my stomach no longer rumbles before setting it aside. I’m still a little hungry, but I probably shouldn’t eat all of it. Now that I’m hydrated and my stomach isn’t empty anymore, I can think a little clearer, and I realize that my first assumption was wrong.
If Draggar left his belongings behind with me, then he’s probably going to return. My spirits, which plummeted when I woke up alone, perk up at that thought. He really didn’t seem like the kind of guy to just abandon me here in the middle of nowhere. I mean, he risked his life to save me.
And while he is an alien who tossed me over his shoulder and spirited me away and I know I shouldn’t want to see him again – I do. I’m mature enough to admit that to myself.
In the short time we spent together, I felt safer than ever before. Protected. Even while being carried over his shoulder, it was obvious he was trying to be as gentle with me as possible. But the magnetic pull I felt towards him was so strange, and I wonder if it could have been a figment of my imagination.
A shuffling noise reaches my ears making me still with alarm.
There it is again.
The noise is coming from the front of the cave at the entrance. I tense and make myself as small as possible, crouching down on the pallet. I don’t know what’s out there, but this is a cave and there are bound to be animals that might call it home. Maybe it wants its home back.
For some reason, the advice about what to do if you ever encounter a brown bear flashes through my head. Play dead. So, I stay as still as possible and try to even out my breathing until it’s barely noticeable. With the way my luck is going, this planet definitely has some weird bears on it just waiting for a tasty snack.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spy a large shadowy shape stumble into the cave before it braces itself against one of the walls. The beam of sunlight that streams in from the entrance blinds my vision for a few seconds, but when my eyes adjust, I can see the shadowy figure isn’t a bear after all.
Speak of the devil.
“Draggar?” I call out to him softly, but he doesn’t seem to hear me. It’s like he’s in his own world.
He takes a couple of lurching steps inside the entrance and then, he falls to his knees with a hard thump and a muffled grunt that makes me wince in sympathy. I scramble to my feet in alarm and rush over to him.
Placing my arms around his massive shoulders, I jerk my hands away in shock. His skin feels like it’s on fire. He’s burning up with fever.
My mind flashes back to the dinosaur and the sight of its sharp claws swiping across his chest. But when I glance down at his chest, I notice the jagged wound I expected to see has already scabbed over and looks as if it is well on its way to healing. There must be something else going on, then. I quickly look him over, searching for any other signs of injury.
His silver hair is damp and his brightly colored skin that glowed with vitality looks dull and that worries me.
Then, I see it.
A deep wound on his side. It looks almost like what I imagine a bullet wound would look like, but it can’t be. This planet seems to primitive for guns. Leaning closer and studying the torn skin, I notice a putrid smell emanating from the wound and green pus that looks like slime leaks from it. My stomach turns over and I gulp down the urge to vomit up the food I just ate.
Shit, it must be infected. Where’s a bottle of antibiotics when you need it?!?
Draggar mumbles something in his deep voice, but even with the translator, his words are so slurred I can only understand a couple of them. Something about poison and a kit.
Wait, poison? I freeze with before pushing down the thoughts flying through my head and helping him up to shuffle over to the pallet. It’s slow going but we finally make it and he collapses on top of the soft fur with a deep groan of pain. His eyes close as I wrestle his heavy sword and its sheath off his back and a belt housing a couple of wicked looking daggers.
Geez, this guy is like a walking armory.
I untie his boots next, and when I’m through, I nearly panic. He is so still and quiet that I reach out to check for his pulse. As soon as my hand touches him, his eyes pop open.
The brilliant silver color of his irises is darker, almost black and his eyes are glazed and unfocused from the fever. His full lips are held in a tight grimace as if he is gritting his teeth hard against the pain as he gazes unseeing up at me.
I need to clean his wound somehow.
The satchel! Maybe there’s something in it that can help. I quickly search through the bag and find a small treasure trove. Some things I recognize and others I don’t. There’s a metal cup, another bag of the jerky mixture, a little metal box with strange writing on it, and a few other items.
I open the metal box and discover a tin of green goo that emits a sharp herbal odor. It reminds me of the healing gel that we used on the ship. There are also a few small scraps of some type of silky fabric that look like bandages and a few dried leaves that mystify me.
Taking one of the bandages, I pour water on it and sink down beside Draggar and begin to wash the dirt and dried blood off his side, trying my best to ignore the massive swells of muscle on display. His large hands which look like they could crush walnuts lie still and lax against his hard stomach and I wonder what those hands would feel like gliding over me. I shake my head and push away the thought. It feels wrong to gaze at him with anything other than concern when he’s so vulnerable.
His eyes are open, but he doesn’t seem to be aware that I’m even here or of anything else. His gaze is focused unseeing over my shoulder, and when I call his name, he doesn’t respond. It’s like Draggar is completely focused inward on fighting the pain and sickness that is ravaging his body.
Once the wound is clean and I can see it better, I let out a gasp. The puncture wound is deeper than it initially appeared, and the flesh is torn and rough looking. The skin around it looks angry with a purple color spreading around the jagged edges. Thankfully, it’s no longer bleeding, but I imagine he lost a lot of blood before he made his way here.
My hands tremble as I smear a glob of the green stuff all over the deep wound, and I push down the fear that I might be doing more harm than good. I can’t just sit around and do nothing while he’s suffering. He might be dying, and I can’t let that happen.
When I’m finished, I settle down to wait and watch over the big alien sprawled in front of me.
Over the next few hours, the fever rages through him.
Draggar is covered in sweat and his skin burns hot when I touch him. I try my best to keep him cool by wiping down his body with one of the bandages dampened with water, but as soon as I’ve wiped him down the damp cloth turns hot from his body temperature.
But still, I continue, hoping that it will provide at least some relief. Over and over, I bathe him with the cloth as the sun sets and daylight turns to night.
Later in the night, Draggar begins to mumble, his words slurred and indecipherable to me and his thickly ridged brow creased as he dreams. He calls out for someone named Danir, and the anguish in his voice makes my chest clench.
I find myself running my hand through his silver locks and talking to him, my voice soft and quiet, hoping to offer any comfort I can. I tell him about my life back on Earth, about the abduction and the others, about my fears, and about the weird feelings I’ve been having for him.
My cheeks flush red at that and I would expire of embarrassment if I thought he could hear me, but he can’t. After a while, it seems to work and his agitation eases until he grows still again.
His eyes are closed and his face is relaxed in deep slumber, and I’m relieved he is finally sleeping peacefully. I eat a little more of the jerky and sip some water before exhaustion begins to show itself.
Other than earlier today, I’ve only slept in fits and starts ever since being abducted, and the lack of sleep is catching up with me. A yawn bursts from my mouth and my eyelids grow heavy. No matter how hard I try to stay awake, to watch over my patient, I can’t keep my eyes open.
With a shiver at the rapidly cooling temperature, I eye the pallet Draggar lies on. There’s just enough room for me to lay down beside him and take a nap, so I do.
Later in the night, I startle awake with a jerk. For a split second, I’m confused at my surroundings as I blink my blurry eyes against the dark, shadowy interior. There’s just enough light seeping into the cave from the moons and the glowing jungle to be able to make out some of the details around me, and it all comes rushing back to me. That’s when I notice the presence of a large body against me.
It’s Draggar.
I must have curled up with him in my sleep. My head is on his chest, and for a split second, I swear I can hear two hearts beating inside him, but that can’t be right.
Before I can turn over to check on him, I feel a shudder shake his large frame and a sharp gasp. His voice is tight with pain as he begins to mumble again. I don’t know what he is seeing in his dreams, but it makes me ache in sympathy for the big alien.
His breathing grows labored and heavy, and his hands grip the fur beneath him with an iron hold that makes his knuckles turn almost white. I can just barely make out some of his mumbled words, now.
“No!!!. . . Haley . . . Attack . . . have to save her.” I don’t really understand what he’s talking about, except my name, but I can almost feel the fear and pain ripping through him.
“Shhh, Draggar, it’s okay. Everything is okay. You’re safe, now.” I run my hand through his hair and I lean my head down until it’s pressed to his bare shoulder as I continue to whisper comforting words to him.
His nostrils flare as he sucks in a deep, shuddering breath and a tremor runs through his body before he grows quiet again. Then, he starts to shiver. His teeth chatter, and the noise is loud in the quiet stillness of the cave. I wrap my arm around his shoulders and get as close as I can hoping to soothe and warm him.
That’s how the next day and night passes. Draggar goes through periods of burning up with fever and then wracked with shudders as if he cannot get warm enough. I wipe him down with a damp cloth when the fever rages through him and snuggle up as close as I can get to him when he shivers so much he cannot remain still.
There are a few moments when he is still and his eyes open and he looks at me, but his gaze is confused. During those times, I try to get him to swallow as much water as he can so that he won’t become dehydrated.
By the time the sky darkened on the second night, I managed to build a small fire at the mouth of the cave using a flint and striker that I found in the satchel. It’s ironic that my college boyfriend loved camping and I went along even though I hated it – looks like I came away with at least something good from that relationship. The warmth from the fire spreads into the cave to us and I use it to warm water to make it easy to wash away the pungent ooze from the wound on his side.
It”s afternoon, now, and almost two full days since he stumbled into the cave. As I check on his wound, the oozing from it seems to have completely subsided and I swear the edges of the deep wound look like they’re beginning to close over with new healthy skin being regenerated. Even his fever seems to have broken. I am astonished at how quickly Draggar is healing, and I look at the green goo with newfound respect.
I finish smearing a little more of the goo on his wound and glance up as I hear a sigh.
Draggar is awake and watching, his silver eyes clear and focused for the first time in what seems like ages. A blush burns my cheeks as his gaze roams over me, taking in my hand placed squarely in the middle of his broad chest. As his eyes meet mine, I feel a blaze of heat rush through me, and the urge to throw my arms around him is almost too strong to resist.
I clear my throat and smile. “Hi.” I don’t know what else to say as I sheepishly remove my hand from him and then, busy myself getting out the waterskin.
I hold the waterskin to his parched lips, and he takes a long sip, his throat working as he swallows. When he’s through, I get up and retrieve the small metal cup that I found earlier in the satchel. I’ve had it nestled in the still warm ashes of the fire after I realized I could make a broth with some of the jerky and water.
I take a cautious sip and cough as warmth flows down my throat. It is a little weak, but I can still taste the gaminess of the meat. Well, it’s better than nothing.
I return to him, walking carefully so as not to spill any of the precious liquid in the cup. The big alien silently watches me, his eyes following my every move as I slowly sink down beside him and lean over to let him sip from the cup.
His eyes widen in surprise as he tastes the broth, and I grin in response. “I’ve never actually cooked over an open fire, so I’m glad it’s edible.” I know he can’t understand me, but I still feel the urge to talk to him.
After a few minutes, Draggar drains the last of the cup and he clears his throat. “My gratitude, Haley. How long have I been sick?” His voice is scratchy and hoarse with disuse and I wince in sympathy.
“About two days.” I hold up two fingers and then point to the sun streaming inside the cave entrance. He must understand the gist of what I said because he nods his head before his eyes sink closed with exhaustion. It doesn’t long before he falls asleep again, a snore rumbling through his chest.
I watch his chest as it rises and falls as he slumbers. My eyes trail down and over the rippling muscles of his abdomen and the leather loincloth that hangs low on his hips. The hard bar of something intriguing twitches causing the material to move and I resist the urge to fan my face.
He’s so alien, and yet, familiar, and I’m so attracted to him. I’m not going to deny that.
But it’s more than just mere attraction or lust. I should not have feelings for him, but I do. That weird magnetism that I thought might have been my imagination is back, and it draws me to this alien man.
It hits me, then. I’ve felt this way before. When I was outside the spaceship, I felt this exact same pull. Only it wasn’t quiet this strong. I remember thinking something was watching me.
I study his face, relaxed now that he’s no longer in the deep throes of illness.
It was Draggar. He was there. I’ve seen how he can move so soundlessly through the jungle and his color changing skin. He would have had no trouble blending into the trees and bushes. He was watching me.
I don’t know what to make of that. Of him.
He’s rugged and courageous, but also gentle and honorable. He could have turned his back and run to safety – the dinosaur would have been distracted by me and probably wouldn’t have pursued him. Instead, he threw himself into the fight against an animal bigger than him without a second thought, and then, he picked me up and outran two more dinosaurs.
I have vague memories of Draggar carrying me in his arms and humming to me when I grew distressed and the warmth that flowed through me when he cradled me so gently against his chest.
There’s a part of me that is screaming that I can trust him, that he is somehow special to me, but the logical side is loud, too, and reminds me that I’ve just met him. And he’s an alien, and my experiences with them haven’t been all that great so far.
I don’t know what I’m going to do about it, but for now, sleepiness begins to settle in again. That bubble of safety that seems to follow him around is still very much active even though he is injured, and it relaxes me. It’s been a long couple of days, and the worry I’ve felt while watching Draggar battle against the illness that ravaged his body has caught up with me. I stifle a yawn as I curl up on the edge of the pallet next to him. A little nap won’t hurt.
It doesn’t take long for sleep to claim me as I drift away to the comfort of the warm presence beside me.