Page 22 of Zinnia and the Zombie (Alien Abduction #26)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
J axx burst from stasis the moment Zinnia’s voice reached him, his consciousness surging through golden flesh that had been cold metal seconds before.
The sensation was like breaking through ice into open air—painful, shocking, but alive with purpose.
The energy that accompanied his awakening pulsed through him like liquid fire, heightening his senses and sharpening his focus to a lethal point.
Time slowed as he found the priest, the zealot’s face a mask of surprise. His hand started to reach for the ceremonial blade at his waist, but Jaxx was faster—infinitely faster.
He struck before the priest could complete his movement, golden fingers closing around the Grorn’s throat with crushing force.
The reptilian male’s scales were rough against his palm, the pulse beneath them rapid with fear and fury.
Black eyes widened, pupils contracting to pinpricks as Jaxx lifted him bodily from the ground.
“For my crew,” he growled, his voice raw with years of grief and rage.
The priest clawed at his arm, his claws drawing blood that glittered in the morning light, but he ignored the pain. He tightened his grip, feeling cartilage and bone giving way beneath his fingers. The Grorn’s struggles grew weaker, his legs kicking uselessly as his life ebbed away.
Behind them, Jaxx heard the acolyte freeing himself from Zinnia’s net, the vines snapping as the powerful male tore through them. The sound brought him back to the immediate danger. He couldn’t afford to savor this revenge, not with Zinnia still at risk.
With a final, vicious twist, he broke the priest’s neck and dropped the lifeless body to the ground. The sound echoed across the empty plaza—a dull, final thud against ancient stone.
The acolyte froze, his gaze fixed on his fallen leader. For a moment, shock rendered him motionless. Then his features contorted with rage and religious fervor, black eyes blazing with hatred.
“Blasphemer!” The word exploded from him, thick with venom. “The prophecy cannot be denied!”
The Grorn charged, abandoning all caution in his frenzy. It was a suicidal attack, born of desperation and zealotry rather than tactical thinking. Jaxx met the charge head-on, ducking beneath the male’s outstretched arms and driving his fist up into the soft underside of the Grorn’s jaw.
The impact sent shockwaves up his arm, but the acolyte barely staggered. The Grorn were built to endure pain, their religious conditioning pushing them beyond normal physical limits. The acolyte recovered quickly, spinning back toward Jaxx with surprising agility for his size.
They circled each other, the acolyte more cautious now despite his rage. Jaxx kept his stance low and fluid, conserving his energy. The stasis awakening had given him a temporary surge of strength, but he could already feel it beginning to fade. He needed to end this quickly.
The Grorn lunged again, feinting left before striking right. Jaxx recognized the maneuver—a common battle tactic—and caught the male’s arm, using the acolyte’s own momentum to throw him off balance.
As the acolyte stumbled, he found the vulnerable spot at the base of the Grorn’s skull, driving his fingers deep into the gap between scales. The male convulsed once, then collapsed, his massive body hitting the plaza stones with a thunderous impact.
Silence descended over the plaza, broken only by his ragged breathing and the familiar sounds of ruined city—the wind through empty buildings and water flowing through ancient pipes.
“Jaxx!”
Zinnia’s voice cut through his battle focus.
She was running toward him, her face alight with relief and joy.
She flung herself into his arms with such force that he nearly staggered backward.
Her body was warm and solid against his, her laughter and tears mingling as she pressed her face against his chest. The feel of her in his arms, safe and whole, made his heart swell with overwhelming gratitude.
He captured her mouth with his, pouring everything he felt into the kiss—his fear for her, his relief, his love. Her lips were soft and yielding beneath his, her hands clutching at his shoulders as if she feared he might disappear again.
When they finally broke apart, both breathless, he rested his forehead against hers. “You were brave,” he said roughly, even as he traced the curve of her cheek, reassuring himself that she was safe and well. “But foolish beyond measure.”
She nodded, a tremor running through her body now that danger had passed. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving behind the shaky aftermath of survival.
“You needed me,” she said simply.
“Always,” he agreed, tightening his arm around her. The word encompassed far more than this single battle—it was an acknowledgment of how essential she had become to his existence.
They stood together in the aftermath of violence, the bodies of their enemies lying broken on stones that had witnessed the rise and fall of an entire civilization. He felt the weight of that history now, alongside the weight of his own. So much loss. So much destruction.
But Zinnia was warm against him, her heartbeat strong and steady where their bodies touched. A future, not just a past.
Slowly, he turned to look at the fallen Grorn. The priest’s face was frozen in an expression of shocked outrage, his uniform stained with blood. The acolyte lay sprawled nearby, the fanatical light in his eyes extinguished forever.
“Do you realize what this means?” he asked quietly, his gaze shifting from the dead Grorn to the center of the city where their ship had landed.
She followed his gaze, understanding immediately dawning in her eyes. “The ship,” she breathed. “Their ship is…”
“Ours,” he finished. “Our ticket off this planet.”
Excitement flickered across her features, quickly followed by uncertainty. She looked around at the plaza, at the towering buildings that had become their sanctuary. Her gaze lingered on the distant rooftop where their garden flourished.
“We’ve made a home here,” she said softly.
He understood her hesitation. This ruined city had given them shelter, food, and the precious gift of time together without pursuit or danger.
It had witnessed their coming together, held their laughter and their passion.
In some ways, it had become more of a home to him than any place he’d ever been.
But it was also a dead end—a beautiful cage. The Grorn had found them once; others might follow. And somewhere out there might be answers about his people, about why the Grorn had hunted him so relentlessly.
“We can make another home,” he said gently. “Somewhere safer. But I need to find out if any of my people survived. To find out why the Grorn were hunting me.”
She nodded, and smiled up at him. “Time to leave,” she agreed.
Relief washed through him. He hadn’t wanted to force the choice on her, knowing how much stability meant to a female who had known so little of it. That she chose their future together over the safety of what they’d built here filled him with pride.
“We should take whatever we can carry,” he said, practical considerations taking precedence now that the decision was made. “Food, clothing, any useful tools or weapons. The ship will have provisions but I suspect we would prefer to limit our contact with what they left behind as much as possible.”
She nodded, her mind already working through the logistics. “The garden first. We can fill those storage containers we found with fruits and vegetables.”
He smiled down at her affectionately. Even faced with leaving the safety they’d established, she was thinking ahead. Not for the first time, he marveled at the quiet strength that ran through her like a vein of precious metal.
“I’ll need to check the bodies,” he added, more gently. “They may have communication devices or weapons we can use.”
She flinched slightly at the reminder of the violence, but nodded. “I’ll start gathering our things. Meet you back at the apartment in an hour?”
He caught her hand before she could turn away, bringing it to his lips. “Be careful,” he said against her skin. “There may be more security drones active now that the systems are disturbed.”
“I will.” She smiled, some of her natural warmth returning. “Don’t take too long.”
He watched her go, climbing the steps towards their building with determined strides. Only when she was safely inside did he turn his attention back to the fallen Grorn.
The search of their bodies yielded more than he’d hoped for.
Both carried standard-issue Grorn pulse weapons—brutal, efficient tools designed for close-quarters combat.
The priest also carried a communications device, still active, which would allow them to enter the ship without setting off an alarm.
Most valuable, however, was what he found in the priest’s inner pocket: a small data crystal, glowing with faint internal light. He recognized the technology instantly—Zathix in origin, not Grorn. It was a storage device, one that his own people used to record important information.
His hand closed around it, a chill running down his spine despite the warmth of the morning. Why would a Grorn priest be carrying Zathix technology? What information could be so valuable that he would keep it on his person rather than in the ship’s database?
The questions multiplied, each more disturbing than the last. But answers would have to wait until they were safely away from this planet.
He pocketed the crystal and the communications device, then gathered the weapons. The bodies he left where they had fallen. Let the city reclaim them as it had reclaimed its original inhabitants.
As he climbed the steps toward their apartment, he felt a curious mixture of emotions.
Even though he was eager to resume his search, he would regret leaving this place that had sheltered them.
And what might they discover about the fate of his people?
But beneath it all ran a current of fierce determination.
He would protect Zinnia with every fiber of his being, and make sure she was safe and happy as they sought answers about his past.
The thought steadied him as he reached their apartment. Inside, he found her efficiently packing their few possessions. She looked up as he entered, a question in her eyes.
“Found some weapons and a comm device,” he reported, setting them on the table. He hesitated, then added, “And something else. A data crystal—Zathix technology.”
Her eyes widened. “Your people’s technology? Why would the Grorn have that?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I intend to find out.”
She crossed the room to him, taking his hands in hers.
“We’ll find out,” she corrected gently. “Together.”
“Together,” he agreed, drawing her close.
They had a ship to claim, a journey to begin, and answers to find. But for this moment, with Zinnia in his arms, he allowed himself to simply feel grateful. For her. For survival. For the chance to build something new from the ashes of all they had lost.