Nothing. Not even a flicker of recognition in that predatory gaze. But he’s watching me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle—not with fear exactly, but with the distinct feeling of being sized up. Like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve, or worse—a threat he’s deciding how to neutralize.

His lips pull back slightly, revealing teeth that are all pointed at the tips. Does this dude tear raw meat from the bone?

“Shit.” I’m raw meat, currently on trembling bones.

The alien snarls again and the message is clear enough: back off.

I swallow hard. “Okay, so you’re not the friendly welcoming committee. Got it.” That’s fine. This is fine.

Be brave, I tell myself. He’s here, so there must be others. And after walking so long and seeing only sand, he’s more than I hoped for. Much more. And I know this.

So I lift my chin a little higher and force down the lump rising in my throat.

Be brave.

“I need your help.”

Despite the alien’s obvious wariness, I can’t help noticing details about him. The way his hair, a rich tan color like the sand around us, looks like it has metallic highlights and moves like liquid across his shoulders when he shifts. The strange markings on his chest that seem to have some purpose beyond decoration. The way he holds himself, coiled and ready, like something barely tethered and untamed.

I try a different approach, mimicking drinking water, then pointing to myself and making a walking motion with my fingers. “Water? Shelter? Do you know where I can find either of those things?”

His head tilts slightly. Is that curiosity or confusion?

But I’m encouraged by any reaction that isn’t overtly hostile. I continue with my makeshift sign language. I point to the horizon, then make a crude house shape with my hands, followed by lifting my shoulders and arms in the “who/what/where/when” gesture.

“People? Settlement? Dare I say a city?” Yeah, that might be pushing it. “Anything that isn’t endless desert?”

His eyes track my movements with laser focus. I’m desperate. As long as his people aren’t cannibals, rapists, or both, I’ll take anything. When I finish, he tenses even further, if that’s possible. His gaze darts from my hands to my face, then to the dying light of the sun on the horizon.

Nothing in his posture suggests he’s about to help. If anything, he seems more suspicious, like my simple question has confirmed something negative about me.

“Okay. Maybe appearing in your backyard and asking you to take me to your house doesn’t really inspire trust.” I sigh, running a hand through my hair. I barely get my fingers through. It’s filled with sand. Great. “Look, I’m not a threat. I’m just lost, thirsty, and in need of your assistance.”

The alien’s nostrils flare again, and he makes a strange clicking sound in his throat. Is that communication? Annoyance? Gas? I have no way of knowing.

I decide to try one more time, using the most basic approach I can think of. I point to myself.

“Justine,” I say clearly, tapping my chest. “Jus-tine.”

Something shifts in his expression—a subtle change that suggests I might have finally broken through. He straightens slightly, rising to his full height in one fluid motion that reminds me of a wave rolling up a beach. It’s unnervingly graceful.

My heart leaps. “Yes? You understand? I’m Justine.”

Another wince at my voice, though less pronounced this time.

I reach up and touch my ear. The alien tracks the movement. The moment I feel the earbud the Xyma gave me still there, my heart leaps again. If he speaks, maybe I’ll be able to understand him. I have no clue if this thing needs the Internet or some kind of connection to work. Don’t even know if it translates all languages. I just have to hope.

But the alien before me has not said one word.

His expression doesn’t change, but something in his posture shifts. He’s still wary, but there’s calculation there now.

It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. I try again with the settlement question, pointing to him first, then making the house gesture, then a gathering motion with my hands to indicate multiple people.

“Your people? Your home? Can you take me there?”

The effect is immediate and alarming. The alien’s entire demeanor changes, his eyes literally darkening and those sharp teeth becoming fully visible as his lips pull back in a full-mouthed snarl. The raised markings on his chest seem to darken, too, and he takes a step toward me that is definitely not friendly.

“Whoa!” I raise my hands. “Sorry! Bad question! I take it back!”

Somehow, I’ve hit a nerve. Asking about his people was clearly the wrong move. Maybe they’re territorial. Maybe they eat humans for breakfast. Maybe they just hate tourists.

Whatever the reason, I’ve screwed up, and now this golden-skinned warrior looks ready to do that meat-off-the-bones thing I feared earlier. If I could only get him to understand⁠—

A blood-curdling screech tears through the air, much closer than before. The alien’s head snaps toward the sound, his anger instantly replaced by something closer to alarm.

Another screech answers the first, this one from a different direction, and the alien makes a decision so quickly I barely register the change. One moment he’s glaring at me, the next he’s lunging forward.

“No, wait—” is all I manage before I’m upended, my world tilting as he throws me over his shoulder like I’m a sack of potatoes.

“Put me down!” The wind is knocked from my lungs as my stomach connects with his shoulder. “What the hell?”

He ignores me completely, breaking into a run that doesn’t feel natural. It’s too smooth, too fast. Each stride covers ground that would take me three steps, yet he moves with a silent grace that seems impossible for his size.

The blood rushes to my head as I hang upside down, my protests muffled against his back. The skin beneath my hands is warm to the touch and unexpectedly smooth, almost silky despite its appearance of toughness.

For a moment, I’m distracted by the little points of light that appear where my fingertips press into him.

Another screech tears through the air, closer now, and the alien picks up speed. My complaints die in my throat as I realize that whatever’s making that sound is hunting us, and the alien—despite his obvious dislike of me—is trying to get us both away from it.

“What is that thing?” I gasp, though I know he can’t understand me. “And where are you taking me?”

No response, of course, just the steady rhythm of his running and the increasingly frantic pounding of my heart. The desert blurs past in my inverted vision, darkness falling rapidly as BS (Batshit Sun) disappears completely.

Wait. He’s running parallel to the rock formation I was heading for, not toward it! My carefully plotted course, my water calculations, my deliberately placed markers—all becoming useless with every step this alien takes.

“No, no, no—wrong way!” I smack his back again, which accomplishes exactly nothing except probably annoying him further. “The big pointy rocks! That way!”

Nothing. It doesn’t make a difference. He can hear me, I’m sure, but he can’t understand me and even if he could, I’m not sure he’d listen. Fuck. Not only am I being kidnapped while something with murder-screech capabilities hunts us, but now I’m going to be completely lost.

The screeching grows louder, then multiplies—more than one of whatever nightmares is out there. The alien’s pace somehow increases even further and I catch glimpses of rocky outcroppings passing by. We’re no longer in the open desert but moving through more rugged terrain.

“Jacqui will never find me,” I choke out, fighting back tears of panic. “None of them will. I’m supposed to be heading back with information, not getting abducted deeper into…wherever the hell this is.”