Page 61 of Alien Jeopardy

“Can you swim?” I ask him, and he nods, but he doesn’t look confident. “Can you fly in this?” I’m yelling now, trying to be heard over the loud rush of the water and the thunder overhead.

“I am ashamed to admit that flying in this would be dangerous for me.”

Something slides against my shin and I shriek, jumping up and nearly tackling poor Ka-Rexsh.

“What is it?” he asks, trying to see into the gloomy murk of the water.

“Probably just a fish. Or a log. Or something…” I leave theor somethinghanging in the air between us because I don’t want to think about what it really felt like.

I shudder, though, and his arm tightens around my waist. “Ken said there would be supplies.” It sounds pitiful, and I regret it the moment the words leave my mouth.

“We should drop what we are carrying.”

I nod my agreement. The makeshift packs from sheets seemed like a really good idea at the time, but now they’re more likely to pull us down into the water than be of any real use.

“With any luck, Ken was not lying.” His voice is upbeat, but his face tells me he doesn’t believe it.

It’s looking increasingly like we’re in serious trouble.

And it’s being streamed.

For some reason, that motivates me more than anything else. The thought of all my coworkers seeing me drown on what is apparently not a moon and is, in fact, an abandoned alien space station pisses me off.

Like, really pisses me off, to a level of rage formerly reserved for the week before my period.

My eyes narrow.

Trent in particular—I can just imagine him watching. Gloating. Making a death pool with our other coworkers in the underwriting department. Getting paid out if I drown right now.

Buying another stupid stretchy polo shirt with the money.

“We’re not DYING TODAY!” I bellow.

Fueled by pettiness and bad fashion, that’s me.

I surge forward, refusing to let the possibility of drowning enter my mind more than it already has. Or should I say flood my thoughts?

I let out a wild cackle, trying to tug Rex along beside me. It’s a bit like trying to pull a pit bull along on a walk they don’t want to partake in, though—until I realize the only reason it feels like we’re moving in different directions is because the floodwaters are up to my thighs now.

“By the way,” I shout at him, succeeding in getting a mouth full of rainwater. “I think whatever touched my leg was a giant snake.”

A positively murderous light sparks in Rex’s eyes, and I decide I’m very glad he’s on my team.

Lightning slashes across the sky, so bright it sears my eyes—but not before I spy something bobbing in the distance.

Thunder booms, rattling the teeth in my mouth.

“A boat!” I point, the outline of the lightning still blinding me.

“I see it,” Rex yells back, and he grips my upper arm tightly, keeping me upright as a wave of water buffets against us.

“Should we fly for it?”

I point up at the sky and mime flying as best I can when it becomes clear he can’t hear me over the storm.

He nods despite the troubled look on his face.

Another bright spear of light forks across the clouds overhead, and he gathers me up in his arms, his huge thighs flexing as he vaults into the sky, wings beating furiously against the rain and wind.