Page 12 of Zinnia and the Zombie (Alien Abduction #26)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Z innia woke to dappled sunlight filtering through the trees above the reflecting pool.

She was no longer on the bench but on the soft moss beneath the trees, the cloak Jaxx had found for her covering her.

By the angle of the sun she’d only slept for a few hours but she felt ten times better.

She sat up slowly, mindful of her injured arm.

The wound twinged slightly beneath the sealant, but only slightly and the fiery pain was completely gone.

She flexed her fingers, pleased to find them fully responsive.

She went in search of Jaxx and found him standing at the garden’s edge, looking out over the city, his golden skin gleaming in the sunlight. He turned as she approached and she realized he always seemed to know when she was near.

“You’ve rested well?”

“Better than I expected.”

“And your injury?”

“Much better.”

He gave a satisfied nod and smiled at her, and she suddenly wanted to close the distance between them and kiss him again.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said instead. “This garden is perfect for food, but it’s not exactly a house. Maybe we should look at the floors below for something more protected.”

“I had the same thought,” he agreed. “But I wanted to wait until you were awake so we could explore together.”

She smiled, charmed by his thoughtfulness. “Let’s have something to eat first. I’m starving.”

“I have already gathered a selection of produce for you to try. “

He’d laid out an impromptu picnic next to another one of the reflecting pools.

The alien food was delicious—some sweet, some tangy, all bursting with flavor.

She savored each new discovery, describing the closest Earth equivalents to him.

He ate as well but he seemed to take more pleasure in her enjoyment than his own meal.

As they ate, she found herself watching his hands—those same hands that had tended her wound with such gentle care. Her thoughts drifted to the previous night, to their brief, heated encounter. Why had she been so afraid? This was Jaxx. He would never hurt her or betray her.

They finished eating and he stood, offering her his hand. She took it, smiling up at him, and a golden glow rippled across his skin.

“Is that because of me?” she whispered, tracing a line from their joined hands to his chest.

“Yes, my Zinnia.”

She looked up at him, trying to find the right words to tell him she’d changed her mind, but they wouldn’t come.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, but she blushed and shook her head.

“Just… planning our exploration.”

His expression suggested he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t press. “We should begin soon. The day is advancing.”

They decided the ground level was too open and unprotected to be a suitable location and agreed to begin on the second level instead.

The second level landing was dim, illuminated only by what light filtered through small, dirt-encrusted windows. He immediately moved ahead of her, his stance alert. She found it both endearing and reassuring how naturally he adopted a protective position.

Level two proved to be a series of large, open spaces with collapsed interior walls and vegetation creeping in through broken windows.

“This was some kind of meeting space,” he observed, examining remnants of what might have been furnishings. “Perhaps for public gatherings.”

“Like a conference center,” she suggested, picking her way carefully across the debris-strewn floor. “Too open for our needs, though. I’m hoping for something with actual rooms. Walls. Maybe even doors that close.”

“Your security requirements are reasonable,” he agreed, his serious tone making her smile.

They continued upwards. Level three looked more promising the moment they stepped from the stairwell.

The floor was divided into a series of smaller chambers rather than the open spaces below, and she suspected it had been office space originally.

While some internal walls had crumbled, many remained intact.

Vegetation was less prevalent here, with only tendrils of vines creeping through the windows.

“This is better,” she said, peering into what appeared to be a suite of rooms. “Let’s check all the options before deciding.”

They moved methodically through the floor, exploring each viable space. In the third section they checked, she found a room that made her pause.

“What about this?”

The space was remarkably intact—four walls, a ceiling without major breaches, and what appeared to be the remains of built-in furnishings. Most importantly, it had a solid door.

“This could work,” she said thoughtfully. “We could move our supplies down here, set up a real?—”

A sound cut through her words—a faint mechanical whirring that raised the hair on the back of her neck.

He went completely still, his head tilted slightly. “Movement,” he whispered. “Behind that wall.”

The whirring grew louder, more distinct. Something was approaching—something mechanical.

A metallic form emerged from a shadowed doorway across the room. It resembled a spider, with eight jointed appendages supporting a central body the size of a basketball, but each leg was as tall as she was. Red optical sensors swiveled toward them, locking onto their position.

She froze, paralyzed by the unexpected sight. The spider robot picked its way with astonishing delicacy through the debris cluttering the floor. As it drew closer, she saw what appeared to be cutting tools extending from its forward appendages.

“Stay back!” Jaxx pushed her behind him just as the robot lunged, its cutting appendages whirring menacingly.

He dodged the first attack with preternatural speed, then reached for a length of metal pipe that had fallen from the ceiling and wrenched it free from the debris.

The drone recalibrated, its red sensors tracking his movements, then it scuttled sideways, attempting to circle around him—toward her.

He intercepted it, bringing the metal pipe down on the round center unit. The outer casing cracked but held, and one sharp appendage sliced through the air where his chest had been a split second earlier.

She pressed herself against the wall, heart pounding as she watched. He moved with lethal grace, the golden hue of his skin intensifying, as if his body was channeling energy for the fight.

The robot made a mechanical chittering sound and reared up, exposing its underside.

He didn’t hesitate. He drove the pipe upward, piercing the less protected area beneath the central body.

The machine emitted a high-pitched whine, its appendages spasming wildly, and Jaxx crushed the optical sensors.

The robot collapsed, its appendages twitching briefly before going still.

The entire confrontation had lasted less than thirty seconds.

Before she could catch her breath, he was beside her pulling her into a narrow alcove and pressing her against the wall with his body. Her hands instinctively came up to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingers.

“More may come,” he said urgently. “The noise?—”

They stood frozen, listening intently. His body was tense, his attention focused outward, scanning for threats.

She was acutely aware of every point of contact between them—his chest against her palms, his hips against hers, his breath stirring her hair.

Her nipples tightened, remembering the way he’d touched her the previous night.

The moment stretched, but no more robots appeared, and his shoulders relaxed, though he didn’t move away.

“I believe we are safe,” he said quietly. “I can’t detect any additional units.”

She tried to focus on his words despite the rising tide of arousal sweeping through her body.

“What was that thing…”

“Some sort of automated security drone, I suspect.”

“Why did it attack us?”

“It considered us a security threat.”

He looked down at her then, and something shifted in his expression. His eyes started to glow as they dropped to her mouth, then back to her eyes, a question in their depths.

The air between them seemed charged with electricity. Her heart rate accelerated for reasons entirely unrelated to danger, and her hands flexed against the thickened skin protecting his chest.

“Jaxx,” she whispered, half question, half invitation.

His golden skin brightened where her hands touched him, the glow spreading outward like ripples in water. The practical concerns of security drones and survival seemed to recede, replaced by a more immediate, visceral awareness.

“I shouldn’t have pulled away last night,” she said softly. “I was scared.”

It seemed absurd now. No matter how overpowering this connection between them, it wasn’t something to fear. It was something rare and precious.

“And now?” His voice was deeper than usual, vibrating through her chest where it was pressed against his.

“Now I’m thinking life’s too short for fear.” She slid her hands up to his shoulders, feeling the strong contours beneath her fingers. “Especially on alien planets with killer security drones.”

A smile touched his lips—one of those rare, transformative expressions that changed his entire face. “A sound assessment, my Zinnia.”

His hand came up to cup her cheek, his touch achingly gentle. The golden glow intensified where their skin met, a visible manifestation of the energy that flowed between them, and she could see the question in his eyes.

Yes.

She leaned into his touch in breathless anticipation.