Page 2 of Captured By the Scaled Outlaw

I find it better to think positively so as not to go completely insane in this barren hellscape.

I stomp the gas pedal and the engine purrs to life. Grimacing at the sound, plumes of sand kick out from behind the vehicle.

Strangely, the vehicle doesn’t move when I press the gas pedal deeper.

I quirk an eyebrow.

Why aren’t I moving? I must be stuck.

I groan.

Cutting the engine, I throw the door open and trudge angrily through the sand to inspect the tires well-past their prime, the treads nearly bald. I wouldn’t be surprised if the rubber gave out on me completely, but I know they still have some life left. Or at least that’s what the mechanic told me.

When I round the corner to the trunk, I freeze.

Two arrows with cable leads are lodged into my bumper. The cords are pulled taut and span up and over a dune, disappearing out of sight.

Backing away slowly, I trace my hand along the outside of the vehicle as I search for the door handle, not taking my eyes off the location where the cords are leading.

If I can get to the back seat, I can grab Grandma’s crossbow.

The sound of engines firing up startles me, and my full attention turns to getting my hands on the only weapon standing between me and the unknown.

The sputtering of multiple vehicles fills my ears as anxiety takes hold. I can feel every blood cell pump throughout my body, cell-by-cell, my heart beating erratically in my chest.

Crawling into the backseat, I snatch the crossbow with fists so tight they turn white around the grip.

An arrow flies past my face, lodging itself into the vehicle’s frame.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice calls from behind. I swallow,turning around slowly with my hand and crossbow made visible. I’m not stupid enough to retaliate with my back turned.

As I turn around, a Lizardfolk stands with an arrow drawn in their bow. Behind them are two humans and another Lizardfolk, all perched atop their sandcycles, helmets covering their faces.

I clear my throat, my voice dry and pitchy from not speaking to anyone other than myself for over half a month.

“C-can I help you?”

“Yeah, you can,” the Lizardfolk at the front says, nodding to one of the humans.

The human grabs a black bag and tosses it at my feet.

The Lizardfolk nods at me. “Drop the weapon and put that over your head. Or I’ll drive this arrow between your eyes.”

I tense visibly.

Well, shit. I can’t talk my way out of this one.

I am in no position to fight them and am severely outnumbered.

Judging by the Lizardfolk’s previous aim, I don’t doubt they’ll hit me right between my eyes, as promised. Ignoring their commands would be a bad idea.

I don’t know what they want with me. They could kill me. Hold me for ransom…

My thumb strokes the handle of my bow. It’s still loaded.

It may be possible for me to get a shot off, but it will be fatal to whoever I hit. I don’t have a habit of missing.

Kill one of them.