Page 10 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

I think you might be about to lose the plot, babe. I’m just looking out for you.

Not the sort of thing you want to say to someone who might be about to lose the plot.

Up close, though, I can see how fatigued Ellie really is.

On that first day, coming back from her exploration with the crawler, she’d seemed almost jubilant.

Our conversation on the first watch made me think of her as defiant, hopeful.

Now she just looks drawn, bags under her eyes dark and puffy.

I’m used to seeing eyes like that. My eyes probably looked like that before I boarded the ship to travel to Alpha Colony.

It’s the face of someone worn down, overworked, underfed.

There’s not a great deal we can do about the ‘underfed’ part, but she could get more sleep.

I say nothing as we walk along the rocks.

I’m dubious about the merit of this idea, but then Ellie points at a small pool of water that has collected in a crevice between several of the rocks.

Inside, numerous spiny creatures move about, very slowly, a colourful selection of pointy, unappetising looking things.

“How do we know they aren’t poisonous?” I ask, looking at the vibrant purple of one of the round, spiky things.

“We don’t,” Ellie says, slipping a hand in to the water and grabbing on to one of the spines.

She gives it a little tug, like she’s meeting some resistance from the creature, then with a pop it comes free of the rocks and the pool.

Ellie looks around a moment, then holds the creature out to me. “Take this for a second.”

Touching it is about the last thing I want to do, but I take it with delicate fingers. Ellie whips off her t-shirt, tying a knot in it at the head end, then opening the bottom out. She holds it towards me, and I drop our little friend in.

“Let’s see what else we can find,” she says.

We spend a good hour searching through pools in the rocks.

Some of the creatures look so inedible we leave them be, others are suctioned to the rocks and impossible to gather up.

But we find a few things that look like snails and some more of the spiny things, which we’re hoping have a soft underbelly to protect.

God only knows if any of it is actually edible, and even if it is, we’re only going to have a morsel each all told. But it’s something.

We start the trek back, Ellie carrying our haul in the bag she’s made out of her t-shirt while I carry our spears.

I’m envious of her brown skin - my own pasty white skin would burn bright pink within seconds if I removed my top.

I’m not envious of the fact that her t-shirt, the only clothing she has, now probably stinks of fish.

It’s going to take some scrubbing in the cool sea water to get that smell out.

We’re silent again as we walk, but I can’t not bring up the reason I followed her. I chew on how best to approach it for a little while, but as I start to recognise the shape of the tree line - meaning our little ‘camp’ is probably just around the next corner - I decide to just be blunt.

“You need to get more rest,” I say.

Ellie’s lips press into a thin line, but she says nothing.

“We can’t afford to have someone level headed and capable out of commission.

Lorna’s arm isn’t getting any better, Grace is permanently occupied with taking care of her.

Half the others can barely manage keeping the fire alight…

” I sigh, my frustrations bubbling up. It’s not their fault.

It’s not any of their faults. We are the products of a society that made us to be good at one thing.

Laundry, food prep, waste disposal. Doesn’t matter what it is, we’re not exactly rolling in transferable skills.

“We need you, Ellie,” I say.

By which I mean that I need her. Saying as much feels a little loaded, though. Like I’m taking responsibility for the group in more than just the abstract way that people have assumed I’m in charge just because I have a big mouth and opinions.

I don’t want to be in charge, don’t want the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. It’s more than any of us could bear.

“Who do you trust to keep watch?” I ask.

Ellie gives me a confused look.

“You feel unsafe sleeping, right? Who do you trust the most? I’ll make sure they’re always on watch when it’s your turn to go to sleep.”

“No, it’s not that…” Ellie says, looking small and uncertain. “It’s what happens when I’m asleep. The dreams…”

My heart stutters a little. She is the first person to mention anything about dreams. The others have nightmares, but when they talk about it, it’s all vague sensations of terror and barely remembered glimpses, waking up with the heart pounding and a lingering sense of dread.

Normal nightmare stuff, not the bizarrely realistic dreamworld I’ve been experiencing.

But the way Ellie looks right now makes me wonder.

My own mind has conjured up a sexy alien, but that’s probably all the contraband books I’ve been reading since I was old enough to follow them.

If Ellie hasn’t had that sort of input, perhaps she only dreams of the horrors of her life back on Earth.

Of things she’s lost, or things she stood to lose if she’d stayed.

Experiencing that with in the same super realistic style as my own dreams would be enough to put a person off sleeping.

“Super vivid, right?” I say. “Almost like they’re real. I’d been wondering about that. Figured it was something in the atmosphere or the water.”

Ellie nods, then hesitates. I can tell by the way she opens her mouth and closes it again that there are words she’s weighing up speaking.

I open my own mouth to tell her that it’s okay, she can talk to me.

Whatever horrors have been making her afraid to close her eyes - surely they would be better shared.

But before I can speak, a scream rips through the air.

Ellie drops the bag of creatures we’ve collected and starts an ungainly run towards the camp.

It’s hard to move quickly across the unstable sand, but we do our best, pushing our tired legs and pumping our arms as we rush as fast as we can towards our friends.

I hold out one of the spears towards Ellie and she grabs it, but the manoeuvre nearly causes me to unbalance.

So I’m five or six steps behind Ellie as we arrive at the camp to find three of the strange large cat things attacking.

Ellie doesn’t hesitate, launching herself towards the nearest creature, a battle cry in her throat so savage, the thing actually hesitates.

I know I should follow her, but my eyes snag on a body, the red-dyed sand, a halo of dark hair that obscures a face.

All I can see are her eyes - empty, glassy eyes that stare up at nothing and will never see again.

I choke on my next breath, my gorge rising.

Dead. One of the girls is dead. Maybe more. And maybe more will die yet if I don’t move, don’t act.

I force my limbs to move through the tremor that’s shaking them, stagger towards the creatures.

My spear slips in my hands as I heft it, sweat and fear making my skin slippery, my muscles weak.

Khadija stands in front of a huddle of the others, brandishing a burning branch in an arc.

One of the cats stalks back and forth, watching her, as if waiting for an opening it knows will eventually come.

And it will. We are tired, thirsty. We don’t have the weapons these creatures have - fangs and lashes and claws.

Just the shoddy spears we’ve made and the fire they at least seem to fear.

Ellie swipes her spear back and forth frantically, screeching at the animal nearest her.

It backs up a little, but it doesn’t turn tail and run.

When Ellie lunges forwards, aiming for its face, its lashes arc out, slicing into the skin of her neck and face.

“No!” The word comes out like a ragged roar and I lurch forwards, swiping my own spear at the creature. Ellie staggers a little, but rallies her strength, blood dripping down her cheek and chest.

“We need to get round those lashes,” she says, teeth gritted in determination or pain, I can’t tell.

“How are we going to do that?” I ask.

My breath comes hard, and the third of the three creatures starts to pad forwards. Khadija’s got one occupied, the second still has its eyes on us. The third one had been hanging back, but it’s approaching now.

My mind trips over the memory of the dead girl on the sand.

I don’t know who it is and I shouldn’t be thinking about that now with two of the creatures advancing on me and Ellie.

But those glassy eyes flash before me and that’s going to be me soon.

That’s going to be all of us soon. I knew it would happen, but the reality of it is so terrifying, it’s like my brain has started shutting down and all I can think is five words over and over and over.

I don’t want to die.

I don’t want to die.

I don’t want to die.

I see the closest cat creature’s muscles bunch, its knees bend in preparation to pounce. I close my fingers tighter around my flimsy spear, like it will make a damn bit of difference.

A roar erupts from the jungle. Not an animal roar, but a sound like human voices screaming together as one.

It reminds me of the protest footage Mercenia corp used to beam onto all the vid screens everywhere, just so they could show how effective they were at stamping protests out.

It’s a wordless roar of rage and pent up energy and the cat creatures pause, turning, as bodies burst out from between the trees.

Chaos descends. I stand frozen, as if I can’t process all the sounds of human screams, cats hissing, the battle cries of the newcomers, and move at the same time.

The newcomers are a blur of movement as they tangle with the cats.

I can’t see any of their faces, but I can see the size of them, the dusky greenish brown of their skin, their tails flicking behind them.

I know with a sudden certainty that my not so little green man is going to be one of them.

That somehow, he’s not just a dream or hallucination.

He’s real.

What the fuck.