Zombies Vs Aliens: Respawn

Chapter 17.1

Nothing like being pulled through the wall of a space ship to confirm the return of tactile sensation. Sadly this wasn't the gentle coolness of glass against my skin. It felt like being stabbed all over by thousands of tiny needle-like teeth. Repeatedly. I was chewed up, shredded. Being gnawed on by a swarm of piranhas would be comparatively pleasant. The wall finally spat me out the other side. Despite the pain, there wasn't a mark on me. My skin continued to crawl with that stinging needle sensation, but at least it was intact. Small favors, one I wasn't certain would last as the dim interior of the ship came into sharp focus.

A trio of aliens peered down at me, without masks.

My only significant face to face encounter before now was with Bullet Face, and the ironic role reversal I found myself in was not lost on me. The BF's sky blue eyes must have been unusual, as the three sets of orbs glaring down at me were all a vibrant shade of indigo. Almost pretty if you ignored the rest of their face. One of them bared his pearl shaped teeth at me. This was a lot more intimidating coupled with the vise like grip on my biceps, keeping my arms pinned to my sides.

"Have you seen my Muppet?" It was not my finest diplomatic moment.

"Take her to the holding block. There are still answers to be had from the other one," snarled the one to my left. This one must have rank, there were extra frills on his suit. His words hit me. The other one? Princess? It couldn't be Wolf Girl, she couldn't even talk. The painful tingle was wearing off. This was a good a time as every. I lifted my legs, praying the wall I'd come through was solid.

My feet made blessedly firm contact. I shoved back with all my might, propelling myself and my man-handling captor into the opposite wall with the thick crunch of crumpling metal. The lights flickered overhead. The clamp on my arms lessened just enough to tear away. Unfortunately, I did not get far.

I found myself directly into the path of the third alien, who tapped a plain copper colored rod against my sternum. There was no flash of light or zap noise, nothing to justify the complete black out of senses. A rushing sensation was the only clue I fell. My limbs were locked in place, frozen, numb. I was a head floating through space until the abrupt impact of my face hitting the floor. I couldn't feel it, couldn't see the floor, couldn't hear anything. All I had was the awareness of nothing. It was terrifying.

It was also familiar in a way I really didn't want to think about.

I was piteously grateful when a second jolt brought my systems back online. The same alien who'd delivered that little nightmare squatted over me, the awful copper stick delicately clasped between his long fingers.

"Gnuh!" I attempted to lift my arms with minimal success. Apparently the effects wore off gradually. Satisfied, the sadist rose up on his three legs, shuffling out of the room. The wall closed behind him with an electric hum. Not a room, a cell. Constructed of opaque seamless metal, curved at the corners, it felt more like a the inside of an egg. The top was sheared off, open to the lone light that filled the space, too bright to look at, but it cast heavy shadows. I'd never thought of light as depressing before. Since my captor phased out of the wall, there was no real door either.

I was so fucked.

"Hello?"

I was also not alone.

Flopping over, I managed to fumble to my feet, leaning against my personal egg shell for support as I attempted speech again.

"Herlow?" I slurred, smooshing my cheek flat as I listened for a response. Was that breathing? Did I hear breathing?

"Oh God, another one. What outpost were you taken from?" An unfamiliar male voice vibrated through the wall. It was a pleasant voice, mid-range, deeper than Fred's, but not the rumble of J.D.

"Uhhh" I pulled back, scrambling for something semi-intelligent to say. What the hell was the name of the Fort we heard over the radio? Not that it was exactly a good idea to toss the name out there. What if that was where he came from? A soft chuckle carried through the wall.

"Let me guess? New to your unit? Took me a month to memorize the active cabin numbers. Do you remember anything about where you were when they nabbed you?" Despite the exhaustion in his tone, it sounded very much alive. I never thought there would be a distinct difference between my voice and a living person's until now. It was hard to pin point at first, but there it was, between the pauses for breath, and swallows of saliva. Life sounds, ones I never thought about until I realized I didn't have them. Whatever I was now, I was still a far, far shot from human. I sighed, letting my forehead rest against the wall. I decided the 'sorta' truth was better than an outright lie.

"They grabbed me outside. We came here to investigate," I said, listening to hitch in his breathing.

"No!" Something thumped on the other side. "How many were with you? Did any get away? We have to warn Fort Braydon!"

Ah ha, that was the name. My cellmate's voice was infused with alarm.

"Hey, easy, we can't do much from in here," I muttered, running a hand along the wall. I wonder how thick the walls were. "We need to outwit these tripod douche buckets first."

He gave a startled laugh. It sounded a little wild but as long as it kept him from full out panicking I'd take it. Of course, he might lose it if I followed my current train of thought. The crunch of metal during my first escape attempt was a lucky shot, not planned or focused. I tapped the metal, listening for the hollow ping I needed.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Kit," he said, pausing. "Getting any ideas?"

"One, not a great one but it's worth testing," I said, hearing the metal echo beneath my fingers. "Hey, Kit, could you move away from the wall?"

I could hear him shuffling around. "What are you going to do?"

Something incredibly stupid. It might draw attention, might even earn me another poke with that super stun stick, but I needed to test what strength I had somehow. Also, honestly, I wanted to see my first live non-feral human before I was dragged to my death by alien torture.

"Making a window," I said, thrusting my fist forward. It didn't punch through like paper, not by a long shot. The bones in my fingers crunched in protest, but the metal grudgingly gave, shredding my skin in the process as I popped a ragged hole between our cells. Kit yelped.

More needles of pain danced up my arm, the wounds thankfully numb as I withdrew my broken hand and got my first good look at the human.

He was plastered against the opposite wall, wisps of brown hair falling into light caramel eyes. His pupils were blown. The cell light leeched the color from his tan dirt streaked skin.

My thoughts fizzed a little at the sight of him. "Huh," I said, cradling my injured hand to my chest. His eyes darted over my face to my wounds and back. By his expression, I was very self conscious of what a horror show I must be.

"Holy shit, you're dead."

"You don't say."