I’m starting to feel uneasy. Because I only know one safe place, and it’sours—Callie’s and mine.
“Oh?”
“Right here,” he says and gives me a cold, blue stare. “I’ve never seen a safer place than that Plood ship. We will stay here, Aker’iz and I.”
5
–Theodora–
The next morning, I bounce up from my curled-up position on the saucer floor, heart hammering. The hatch is open! And there’s a loud scream from outside!
Standing there, tense as a bowstring, I wake up properly and remember the day before. Kenz’ox and Aker’iz moved in, and I had no choice but to let them, although it felt like a defeat—like losing my last safe place.
I tried to suggest they sleep outside, but Kenz’ox ignored me and put the baby to sleep on the saucer’s floor before he got busy making food and cutting wood.
I found no way to start a conversation about it. What was I going to say? I have no arguments except that this place ismine. Even in my own mind, that sounded feeble.
After that, there wasn’t much I could do except curl up a decent distance from the caveman after sunset—and feel a strange little envy of the baby, who got to sleep right next to him.
And to top it off, the light inside the saucer changed when they came inside. It went from cold blue to warm yellow, and a mild hum started sounding from the walls. Those two even have a better connection with this saucer than I do.
Now, the light is back to normal and the hum is gone.
“Welcome to your new life,” I mutter. There’s a leather sheet dropped in a corner, the saucer smells of the herbs Kenz’ox uses as lotion for the baby, and I swear there are dirty footprints on the floor.
Another shrill scream pierces the silence.
The sour feeling of defeat and loss washes over me again as my limbs relax from the sudden panic. The jungle is in here now. Planet Xren isinsidemy safe space.
I clench my eyes shut for a moment, getting my emotions under control, before I wipe my cheeks and walk out.
Kenz’ox is sitting outside, trying to feed Aker’iz. But she’s not having it and makes sure it’s known.
He’s lit the campfire and is boiling something in a pot.
“It be nice if you close that,” I snap, pointing at the hatch. “It keep smell out.”
He looks up. “Good morning, Tedora.”
“And it is not ‘Tedora.’ It’sTheodora. If too hard, just say ‘Dorie’.” Yeah, I was never a morning person. And the day after I had to let strangers into my home, I’m not at my most cheerful.
He holds my gaze for a second, then looks down at the baby. She’s now happily sucking on the juice-soaked leather sheet.
I carefully scan the edge of the jungle for dangers before going behind the usual bush. When I emerge, Aker’iz is done eating, but she’s still not happy and makes sure we know it. Her young voice even overpowers the constant roar from the surf.
“You think that bring Bigs?” I ask, trying to keep the acid out of my voice. “Is not safe place anymore.”
“Her screams may keep the Bigs away,” Kenz’ox counters. “They may think she’s an irox.”
I reflexively look up. But there’s no dactyl-like dino in the sky, or what little I can see of it. “You sure about that?”
He gently strokes Aker’iz’s head with his giant, scarred hand. “No.”
“No,” I echo. “Because is not true. This bring danger. Not is safe place!”
“If there’s danger, we can go inside,” he says calmly. “No Big will get close, then.”
The baby resumes her breakfast, giving no explanation for her loud protests.
