Page 4 of Zinnia and the Zombie (Alien Abduction #26)

CHAPTER FOUR

E ven knowing it was hopeless, Zinnia tried to fight off the guard. He grabbed her wrist, forcing her arm behind her back and lifting it until a streak of agony shot down her arm. His fingers curled in the neckline of her dress and he yanked, ripping the fabric.

“No wonder the old bastard wants you,” he sneered, his eyes dropping to her breasts with a smile that made her stomach churn.

“He’s not going to have me. And neither are you!” She kicked his shin as hard as she could.

He swore but didn’t loosen his grip. “That just got added to what you owe me,” he snarled, yanking her arm higher and forcing her toward the bed she’d made.

“No!”

A loud roar echoed through the container, and then her zombie was there, alive and moving. He gripped the guard’s wrist where he held her arm. She heard something snap, and then she was free. The guard howled, reaching for his baton with his other hand.

“Look out!” she cried, but her zombie was already dragging the guard away from her.

The guard landed a solid blow across her zombie’s ribs, but he never faltered.

The fight was short, brutal, and final, ending with the guard’s limp body slumped against the wall.

Her zombie bent over the body, his hands framing the guard’s head as the golden hue of his skin deepened, the glow traveling up his arms and spreading out across his body.

“What… what are you doing?” she whispered as he let the body drop and turned back to her.

His eyes were purple, a dark amethyst that seemed to glow in the dim container, just as his skin glowed.

“Later,” he said, his voice as deep as she’d imagined, gravelly from disuse. “We must leave.”

“You’re not… you’re not a real zombie, are you?”

“A what?”

“Never mind. I don’t… understand. How did you…?”

“Later,” he repeated. “We don’t have much time.”

He yanked the rug off her bed platform, rapidly scanning the boxes, and grunted with satisfaction as he pulled one free. He opened it with an ease that made her blink, then quickly sorted through the contents.

“Take this,” he ordered, tossing her a cloak in an intricately woven green damask. “It will keep you warm.”

Did he know how cold she’d been since she’d been on the ship? Biting back the question, she wrapped the heavy cloak around her shoulders. When she looked back at him, he’d already pulled on bronze silk pants and a shirt and was wrapping a gold belt with a jeweled dagger around his waist.

“Ceremonial, but better than nothing,” he muttered before tilting his head as if he were listening for something. “We must go, Zinnia. He will be missed.”

The sound of her name on his lips made her stomach tighten. He had been listening. He’d heard her.

“Please,” he added and held out his hand.

She found herself reaching for him before she’d even consciously made the decision, then gasped as their fingers touched. Instead of his usual gentle warmth, his skin was hot against hers, hot enough to ease the tremors that had started to shudder through her body.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he started leading her out of the container.

He paused long enough to slam the container door shut once more, then started leading her through a maze of other containers.

“Off this ship,” he said grimly. “As soon as possible.”

The feel of Zinnia’s hand in his sent heat blazing through Jaxx’s system, increasing his need to protect her.

The adrenaline from the fight was still swirling through his system, along with the energy he’d absorbed from the guard, but he knew it would wear off, and the usual post-stasis weakness would take over.

He had to get her away from here before that happened.

He threaded his way quickly through the cargo hold, his senses alert for any approaching energy signals.

No one was close, but he could feel the energy of the crew clustered in the interior of the ship so he moved towards the outer wall instead.

He was not familiar with this particular model ship, but most transport vessels followed a similar pattern, which meant there should be a hangar close by.

Even as he searched for an exit, he found himself distracted by the female at his side.

She was different than he’d expected. Such a small body to hold so fierce a spirit.

And she was soft—soft in a way no Zathix female had ever been.

Even though he knew she was not feeding a child, her breasts were large and full.

Her hips were round and her stomach gently curved, reminding him of the ancient fertility goddesses of his people.

Her skin was like the finest of silks under his fingers, smooth and defenseless.

The sound of voices interrupted his thoughts, and he cursed his distraction, pulling her back into a shadowed corner between two storage lockers.

The movement brought her flush against him.

More heat blazed through his system as their bodies touched, and her sweet, intoxicating scent filled his head.

His sense of smell had been shut down while he was in stasis, and the almost impossible sweetness threatened to overwhelm him.

She didn’t speak, just looked up at him with eyes the color of raskin leaves in the springtime. Her lips parted, soft and tempting. Tempting? What was he thinking? He needed to focus on survival.

The voices faded away along with their energy signals, and he led her out of their hiding place.

Since they had gone to the left, he went to the right instead, following the outer wall of the ship until he came to the edge of the cargo hold.

A transport lift went both up and down. The hangar might be located in either direction, but there were more energy signatures from the upper part of the ship, so he chose to go down.

He tucked her behind him as the doors opened.

prepared to fight. Fortunately, no one was present.

Unfortunately, the lift opened into a repair bay instead of a hangar.

He quickly scanned the area, searching for anything that might prove useful.

A motley assortment of half-assembled equipment and scattered parts took up most of the bay, but he spotted a familiar silhouette in the furthest bay: a personal flyer, similar enough to those he had flown in the past to be recognizable.

Its presence here undoubtedly meant that it had suffered damage of some sort, but was that damage enough to stop it from flying?

The hangar was more likely to be guarded, but if he couldn’t get the flyer airborne, they would lose valuable time. He hesitated, and she squeezed his fingers.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered, and he pointed at the flyer.

“We might be able to use that vessel to escape. But if it’s too badly damaged, we’ll have to try somewhere else. The more time it takes, the more likely they are to discover our disappearance.”

She looked around the empty repair bay, and he suspected she was having the same thought he was.

“Do you know how to repair it?” she asked.

“Possibly, but we don’t have time to make repairs.”

“Do you know how to fly it?”

“Theoretically.”

Her lips quirked in an unexpected smile. “Why don’t we go find out if you can, and then decide?”

“A sensible solution,” he agreed, and she smiled again, sending more warmth flooding through his system.

She gave their joined hands a puzzled look. “Did your skin just get warmer?”

“Yes. My body responds to… energy.” More specifically, he was responding to her energy, but he didn’t think this was the time to discuss it.

Even though the repair bay was empty, he automatically kept close to the walls as they crossed to the flyer so that if anyone arrived, they would have a chance of hiding.

“Are you sure this thing is capable of flying?” she asked when they reached the vessel, giving it a dismayed look.

He understood her hesitation. The flyer had clearly not been maintained.

The hull was pitted and scarred, the finish peeled away in several places.

Some of the landing lights appeared to be missing.

When he lowered the landing ramp, it gave a protesting groan before jerking down and coming to a halt a considerable distance above the floor.

“Its outer appearance doesn’t matter,” he assured her, even though the evident lack of maintenance worried him. He lifted her onto the landing ramp—another flash of heat surging through his body as his hands closed around her soft waist—then leapt up after her.

The interior of the vessel was as unprepossessing as the outside.

The air smelled dank and musty, the floor was dirty and rusted, and the fabric on the cockpit chairs was stained and torn.

As he sat down, the chair shifted dangerously beneath his weight.

Ignoring it, he began examining the controls.

“Don’t you need a key or something?” she asked.

“Not unless it’s coded to a specific user.” Praying that it wasn’t, he found the ignition switch and flipped it on.

The ship gave a jerky hum, and the lights on the dashboard flickered before most of them came on again.

“At least we have power,” he said, scanning the controls. Although there were several he didn’t recognize, most of them were standard, and he started running through a pre-flight check. She watched silently until he sighed and turned to her.

“Can you fly it?” she asked.

“I believe so, and I believe it is capable of flight.”

“But?”

“But a quarter of the systems don’t respond. However, life support is fully functional and the basic navigation systems appear to be working.”

She nodded slowly. “You know more about this kind of thing than I do. Can we make it somewhere safe?”

“Yes,” he said firmly, although he was less certain than he wanted her to believe. “It would be safer to look for a fully functional ship, but that would be more time-consuming and there would be more chance of running into a crew member.”

As he spoke, two of the lights on the panel flickered and went dead.

She looked at the half-lit screen, then around at the decrepit ship, then back at him. “I don’t want to be back in their hands. I’m willing to take the chance if you are.”

Brave little female .

“Very well,” he said, and raised the landing ramp.