Page 121 of Pets in Space 10

Hazel

Run.

That was the only word that mattered. Not think. Not breathe. Definitely not calm down, Hazel, everything’s fine. Just – run.

Branches whipped at my skin as I charged through the trees, bare feet slamming into soft earth and jagged stone alike. My thighs burned. My lungs burned. Everything burned except for the creature behind me, which apparently didn’t understand the concept of exhaustion.

Something roared. A deep, bone-shaking roar that rattled the forest and sent a flock of squawking, crimson-feathered birds erupting from the canopy. I didn’t look back. I’d made that mistake five minutes ago and nearly face-planted into a log the size of a bus.

All I focused on was what was right in front of me. Trees in ridiculous garish colours that made the forest look like it was on fire. If I hadn’t been naked, exhausted and busy trying not to die, I might have even enjoyed the scenery.

I clutched my only weapon – a splintered branch I’d sharpened with a rock – so tight my knuckles ached. It wasn’t much, but it made me feel slightly less like a nude snack and slightly more like a nude warrior snack. Big difference.

Insects much larger than I wanted them to be kept hitting my face. So far, none of them had stung me, but that must have been dumb luck. I evaded something that looked like a beetle the size of a boulder with skin like lava rock while the thing behind me kept roaring.

I could hear it crashing through underbrush – too fast, too big. I hadn’t seen it clearly when it appeared, just a glimpse of obsidian hide, gleaming claws, and way too many teeth. Four legs, maybe six. Perfectly built for rough terrain.

Me? I was built for Netflix marathons on the sofa, craft nights with my cat, and sipping tea in Glasgow’s West End cafés while pretending I sat there alone because I liked solitude, not because I didn’t have any friends.

The ground rose beneath my feet, sloping towards the jagged ridge I’d been crawling towards all day. Mountains made of diamonds. Sharp, glistening peaks that I hoped had water, caves, and shelter. If I could make it that far, I had a shot.

If.

Another roar. Closer this time.

“Oh, come on!” I screamed over my shoulder. “Don’t you have something else to chase? Like a squirrel? I swear I taste disgusting!”

A root caught my foot and I tumbled forward, scraping my knees on rough bark and stones. Pain flared. I scrambled back up, branch in hand, and stumbled through a narrow gap between two orange-trunked trees just as the thing lunged behind me.

Its breath hit my back like a furnace. I screamed and dove forward – just in time to fall down a steep slope.

The world turned and twisted. I hit the ground hard and rolled. Dirt in my mouth. Blood in my nose. Something hit my head, hard. For a moment, I felt like I was going to pass out.

But then the slope finally came to an end and I came to a stop. Everything was silent.

No crashing. No snarling. No death.

Just birdsong. Wind. Insects. I closed my eyes and imagined I was back home, relaxing on a bench in Kelvingrove Park. Not in this nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from. I still didn’t know where I was. I just knew that this was not home, not Scotland, not even Earth.

The only other alternative was that I was in some kind of virtual reality game – but I had stopped believing in that theory when I’d sliced open my arm on a jagged branch as hard as rock.

Maybe this was death. The afterlife. Hell.

I most certainly deserved it.

I didn’t move for a long time. Just lay there on my side, panting, staring at a fern with leaves like molten glass.

Eventually, I sat up and spat out a glob of blood.

The slope had brought me down into a narrow, rocky hollow. Cliffs loomed above on one side, trees on the other. I could no longer see the diamond mountains except for a pale sliver above the cliff to my right, showing me the direction I’d have to take once I recovered a little.

The air smelled like ash and moss. My spear-branch was gone, probably snapped during the tumble.

I brushed off dirt and checked my arms. A few scrapes. A shallow cut on my thigh. My chestnut hair – what was left of it – was plastered to my face with sweat.

Before I’d woken up on that metal platform in the middle of a fire-coloured forest, I’d had hair down to my waist. I was proud of it. Very proud. Not many people had hair that long. I put a lot of effort into it.

But now it was gone. Someone had cut it while I’d been asleep. I was left with stubble that barely reached the bottom of my ears. I didn’t want to know how horrendous it looked. I didn’t want to think about who had done it and why.

I didn’t cry. Not now. Not when I’d made it a whole day in this hell. Not when my lungs were still heaving and my heart hadn’t exploded from terror.

I was alive. Still anxious, still naked, still scared of… whatever the hell that thing was. But alive.

The monster must have given up on having me for dinner.

But it was not the first thing that had chased me today.

This forest was teeming with deadly animals wanting to take a bite of me.

Which was why I was headed to the mountains.

I hoped there would be less predators there.

Not that I knew for certain. But it was as good a direction as any.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, staring at the moss-covered rocks and trying not to fall apart. Could’ve been five minutes. Could’ve been an hour. Time didn’t feel right on this planet. Or wherever the hell I was.

Eventually, the shaking in my legs stopped enough for me to stand. My head throbbed from where I’d hit it – just a dull, rhythmic ache now, like a reminder that yes, I was still alive. Yay. Congratulations.

I rubbed my arms for warmth. The air was cooler down here, the sun slipping lower behind the jagged ridgeline of the mountains. I was still heading towards them, even if the fall had knocked me off track. And possibly slightly concussed me. But priorities.

I needed shelter. Water. A weapon. Clothes, ideally, but that wasn’t exactly something I could crochet together from ferns and bark.

I scanned the hollow. The cliffs above were sheer and fractured, little shards of crystal glittering between the rocks. One of them might be a cave. Or a crevice big enough to crawl into and not die in my sleep.

A dry laugh rose in my throat. Strange how my priorities had adjusted so quickly.

Back home, I had so many dreams, so many ambitions.

I knew I’d never reach them, but that was part of it.

It’s much easier to self-deprecate when you never achieve your goals.

And I was the queen of self-criticism and self-loathing.

No space for that here. I had to survive.

My therapist would be so impressed.

I found a fallen branch – not as good as my last one, but it would do – and started walking, slower this time. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest, but I’d been through worse. Not exactly chased-by-alien-lion worse, but emotionally worse. Which, to be honest, was most of my twenties.

A rustle to my right made me freeze. I held my breath, eyes scanning the trees.

Nothing.

Just a breeze stirring the golden leaves. A flicker of shadow. A reminder that I wasn’t alone out here – and probably never would be.

By the time I spotted a shallow overhang in the cliff wall, the sky had shifted to deep amber. The forest glowed like a burning oil painting. Beautiful. Lethal.

And rising across the sky were two moons. Not one. Two.

Final proof that I was no longer on Earth.

Fuck me.

I was on an alien planet. Or I was hallucinating being on one. Or Hell was a real place and it just happened to have two moons.

I focused on the ground in front of me. If I looked up at those moons again, I might erupt into hysterics.

I squeezed into the hollow underneath the overhang and let out a deep breath.

Rocks on either side formed a sort of half-cave that gave me a semblance of shelter.

Not exactly a five-star hotel, but it would keep me from being spotted from above.

For some reason, animals were scarce in this valley I’d tumbled into. Maybe they were scared of me.

As if.

Using a rock, I chipped at the new branch until I had a crude point.

Not as sharp as the first one, but I wasn’t about to fight off another monster tonight.

If they wanted to eat me while I slept, so be it.

I wasn’t going to be able to stop them once darkness fell.

I didn’t have a light or fire. I didn’t have anything except my laughable weapon.

I curled into a ball on the bare stone, hugging the makeshift spear like a lifeline. My skin stung from scrapes and bruises. My stomach clenched with hunger. But it was the silence that got me.

No cars. No distant chatter. No buzzing phones or cat meows or streetlights outside my flat.

Just me.

And whatever was out there.

I let my eyes drift shut. I didn’t think I’d fall asleep any time soon, but exhaustion caught up with me. Sleep came slow and shallow, full of twisted dreams I wouldn’t remember. And just before I lost consciousness, I thought I heard something.

Not a roar. Not a snarl.

A growl.

Low. Deep. Mechanical.

Far away.

But moving closer.