Thirteen
Naomi
His hands dig into my ribcage, fingernails dragging across my skin as he drives through the hallway.
Screaming out for Turin, I look back at the entrance. Before we round the corner, I see Roy on the ground, knocked out from the Captain’s blow.
How did this happen? How did it get to this?
The Captain reaches the end of the hallway and stops, slobbering over my face. “Captain, please remember,” I plead. “I’m Naomi. I’m not here to hurt you.”
His grin widens. His eyes lower and turn inward.
Roy was right. This isn’t the Captain. He is just a body to use by Zakar’s venomous goo.
He holds me near his chest, screaming and digging his nails in deeper.
> I feel blood trickle.
He’s going to squeeze me to death.
“Help,” I yell. “Turin...”
In my hand, I squeeze the piece of glass I picked up on the outside of the premises. I can’t strike. He has my arms bound.
A second roar echoes in the distance. I recognize it as Zakar.
Hanging my head, I breathe in silence. Between the Captain, Zakar, and the missing I don’t think there’s a chance of survival. All of this has come to a head, but I never planned on dying.
I planned on coming back with the alien I discovered and fell in love with. I planned on a family.
Heavy footsteps shake the ground. “Turin,” I grunt and try to pull away from the Captain’s monstrous hands.
The Captain swings, knocking my head so hard it throws out my neck. “Turin,” I repeat.
He hits me again. This time, I feel the blood fall down my cheeks and nostrils. My sinuses swell with hot pain. “Turin, I love you,” I mutter.
I feel dizzy. My eyes are closing. In my peripheral, I can see the Captain raise his fist one more time. One last punch to knock the last light out of me.
I smile.
I smile because I see Turin run around that corner. I see the determined look in his eyes, and I sense that everything will be all right.
He dives toward us, muscles bulging like large cannonballs. Before the Captain can smash my brains in, Turin wrestles him to the floor.
“Run!” he cries.
I slash the Captain’s face and run to the other end of the hallway.
Turin takes a clean hit to the face before I turn the corner. “Just keep going. Don’t worry about me,” he shouts.
He’s right, but I want to know he will be okay. I need to know that all this is for a reason.
The server room. I’m so close. It’s just a few more doors ahead of me.
I trip and catch my balance against the wall. My muscles hurt. I can barely breathe, let alone see. I’m wet with my own blood.
But I’m not weak.