Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 83205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
"A what?" I ask, puzzled.
"You know, a comet? Space debris? Something falling from the skies because it made it through the atmosphere."
I have no such word in my memories, but perhaps those who created me did not see the need for it. "We should go examine it."
"What? No! Look, it's still smoking!" Aidy gestures at the "rock" below. "That thing is going to be molten hot. And it might be radioactive. Space is full of radioactive waves." Her expression turns to one of confusion. "At least…I think it is?"
I do not know what radioactive is either. Her warnings are valid, though. If it is not a gift from whoever is running this game, it might be something to avoid. "Perhaps…"
I trail off as the wind changes, and then the smell overpowers us. Aidy gags, her hand going to her mouth. The smell is rancid and foul, with a kind of stink I have never experienced before. I whirl about, ready to confront whatever sort of wild animal it is that smells like death.
But standing at the base of the slope, gazing up at us, is not a wild animal. It is a stranger. A native people of some kind. The newcomers stand on two legs, their arms long and thin, their bodies covered with a filthy pale fur and no clothing. The strange faces have large, rounded eyes, and a small tearing beak for a mouth. There is not just one waiting for us, but a dozen, maybe more.
Aidy's hand goes to my arm and she steps closer to me. "Are…are those the gladiators you said you saw?"
"No," I say. "They are an entirely new problem."
"Shit." She glances behind us. "I don't think we can jump and make it. What do we do now?"
I sling the pack off my shoulder and check my weapons. This is the moment I have been waiting for—to display my prowess to my female. Yet I didn't anticipate that the enemy would be so close to Aidy, or that there would be so many of them. I want Aidy far away from these aliens, somewhere safe….but that is not an option. "You stay here behind me. I will handle this."
And I step forward, bracing my legs slightly apart so they know I am the one to fight.
CHAPTER
TWELVE
AIDY
I'm just as shocked as Corvak is that this planet is inhabited. It's desolate and bleak and unforgiving, and for some reason, I thought it would be abandoned except for us and the other contestants. Seeing the white-furred, ape-like people is terrifying, considering they're at the bottom of the slope and we're at the top, at the edge of a cliff.
Corvak takes another step forward, and I wait to see how he's going to "handle" things. Attempt communication in some way? Scare them off with some yelling?
He takes an aggressive stance and pulls out one of his knives, then gestures with his arms wide. "Come and attack, then!"
Fuck. Of course he's going to pick a fight.
I watch the strange, fuzzy people to see how they react to this, my heart pounding wildly. Even though they're spindly in frame, they're tall—and there's a lot of them. There's only one Corvak. What if something happens to him? What if I'm stuck here, alone? My panic escalates as one of the creatures shakes his lower arm and another nearby gestures back to him.
It's almost like they're communicating. Which is…odd. They don't talk, just hoot angrily at each other.
Another stomps his foot in the snow and then steps forward. It's like he's decided to be the fighter. He hunches his shoulders and mimics Corvak's posture. Behind him, the others twitch and sway, and I get the impression that they're still talking. One lifts his hand, and I could swear his fingers move in a gesture—
Corvak snarls and lunges forward.
A startled scream erupts from my throat as the creatures begin to hoot in response, shaking their clawed hands, and I'm reminded oddly enough of pompoms. Then my gaze is drawn to Corvak, and I can't look away, heart in throat, as he fights the biggest one. I hold my breath, watching as he swings in fast, sharp, precise motions, the knife slashing through the air. He doesn't hit the filthy yeti-like creature—it ducks and maneuvers, avoiding the blade.
It only makes Corvak move faster. He slashes at the creature, only for it to slam its arm into Corvak's hand, and the knife goes flying. I want to rush for it and grab it before the others do, but I don't dare move forward. All I can do is clutch our supply pack and watch as my protector lunges for his enemy again and again. It's a good fight, but it's clear that Corvak is going to win. They circle and move, and the yeti keeps dancing away, but he's slowing down. Each time he avoids one of Corvak's swings, it's evident that he's growing more and more winded.