Page 7 of Zinnia and the Zombie (Alien Abduction #26)

CHAPTER SEVEN

A bsolute darkness surrounded Jaxx, but this time he wasn’t lost in it. This wasn’t the endless suspension between life and death of stasis. This was different. Softer. The darkness pulsed with warmth at its edges, drawing him back to something. To someone.

“Come back, Jaxx. Please come back to me.”

Her voice reached him like a ray of sunlight penetrating murky water, growing clearer with each repetition. Zinnia . She was calling him, asking him to return to her.

With her sweet voice and scent guiding him, he followed her into the light.

The first thing he became aware of was her lips against his, and then of her hands on his skin.

Each touch sent ripples of energy through his weakened system. His cells responded, absorbing the ambient life force that radiated from her—not in the violent, consuming way he’d taken it from the guard, but in a gentle osmosis. She was feeding him with her proximity, her care, her warmth.

He tried to respond, to reassure her, but his body remained uncooperative. His consciousness drifted between awareness and darkness until enough of his strength returned to anchor him to the present.

His eyelids felt impossibly heavy but he managed to force them open, her face coming into focus above him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks tear-streaked, and her lower lip trembled.

“Zinnia,” he croaked, his voice a dry rasp.

“Oh thank God.” Tears spilled down her cheeks as she smiled at him. “You scared me. I thought—I thought you were dying.”

“Not… dying.” He reached up with a shaking hand, brushing away a tear with his thumb. “Post-stasis weakness… drained me.”

“What can I do to help?” she asked anxiously.

Warmth radiated through him from where her hand rested on his chest.

“You’re giving me… your strength,” he murmured. “When you touch me.”

“It was the only thing I could think to do. And it’s really helping you?”

“Yes.”

Her smile returned, lighting up her beautiful face, and his breath caught at the sight of it. How could this fragile human have such an effect on him? He should be the one protecting her. He attempted to sit up and assess their situation, his muscles trembling with the effort.

“Let me help you.” She slipped her arm around his shoulders, supporting his weight as he pushed himself upright.

The movement brought her body against his side, soft and warm. Her hair fell forward, brushing his bare chest, and his cock—long dormant—stirred beneath the protective lamellae covering his groin.

Despite his weakness, his body instinctively reacted to her nearness.

The instinctive drive to mate had been suppressed while he was in stasis, but now it returned with a vengeance.

It was a biological imperative, hardwired into the genetic makeup of his species when they found a compatible female, and Zinnia was definitely a compatible female.

But this was neither the time nor the place, and he firmly suppressed the urge as he studied their surroundings.

Beyond their immediate shelter, a vista of crumbling towers stretched across the landscape, connected by fallen sky-bridges and overgrown terraces.

Nature had reclaimed much of the city; vines snaked up walls, trees erupted through what had once been plazas, and moss carpeted what must once have been a place of advanced technology.

Something tugged at the edge of his memory—a familiarity that he couldn’t quite place. He stared at a particular pattern in the stonework, feeling that he should recognize it. The memory danced just beyond his grasp, then vanished as quickly as it had come.

“Do you know this place?” she asked, noticing his intense gaze.

He shook his head slowly. “No. But something…” He frowned, concentrating. “I can’t access the memory.”

“Do you think there’s anyone still here?”

He extended his senses, reaching out to detect any energy signatures that might indicate sentient life.

There was plenty of biological activity—the steady hum of plant life, the flickering signals of small animals moving through the undergrowth—but nothing that registered as intelligent consciousness.

He shook his head. “No one remains. I don’t think anyone has been here for a very long time.”

“What do you think happened to them?”

“I don’t know. Civilizations fail for many reasons.”

He winced as another elusive memory sent a spike of pain through his head, and she gave him a worried look.

“I’ll try to find something to eat and drink,” she said.

She moved to stand, but he reached out and caught her arm, his fingers curling around the soft flesh.

“Don’t go.” The words escaped his lips before he could stop them. “Not yet.”

“You need food and water.”

“They can wait a little longer.” He needed her touch far more than he needed physical nourishment. “Just let me just… feel you.”

Understanding lit her face. “Of course.”

She settled back against him and wrapped her arm around his waist, holding him close, and his pulse raced in response.

“This ship?” he asked, trying to focus on anything besides his body’s reaction to her.

“I’m no expert, but I doubt it’s ever going to fly again. At least I managed to drag you out before it started smoking too badly.”

It hadn’t occurred to him until that moment that she must have pulled him away from the wreck, despite the difference in their sizes. The physical effort to move him must have been enormous.

“That was… impressive,” he said. “Thank you.”

She shrugged, looking embarrassed. “Adrenaline, I guess. I was afraid the ship was going to explode. Thank goodness it didn’t, although I’m not sure there’s anything salvageable.”

“We should check.” His protective instincts flared, but when he attempted to stand, his legs buckled. She immediately wedged herself under his shoulder and eased him back against the wall.

“Stop that,” she scolded. “You’re supposed to be getting your strength back, remember?”

He gritted his teeth in frustration. He knew she was right, but his weakness made him vulnerable—made them both vulnerable. “I cannot afford to be incapacitated. I need to secure a perimeter.”

“It can wait,” she said firmly. “You said there was no one nearby.”

He wanted to argue, but he knew she was right.

Instead he let her warmth feed him as he calculated their odds of survival.

The atmosphere was compatible and the richness of plant and animal life suggested a thriving ecosystem with an abundant supply of water.

The ruins would provide shelter and possibly materials they could repurpose.

Their immediate survival, at least, seemed feasible. The longer-term problem of how to escape the planet would have to wait. He looked at the lengthening shadows outside their shelter and sighed.

“We should rest here tonight. Tomorrow, when I am stronger, we will explore more thoroughly.”

She hugged her knees to her chest, suddenly looking very small. “What are our chances, Jaxx? Of getting away from here, I mean.”

He considered lying to comfort her, but dismissed the idea immediately. She deserved honesty. “I don’t know. We would need to find technology capable of sending a distress signal powerful enough to reach civilized space.”

And the right recipients. The last thing he wanted was to attract the attention of more slavers.

“And is that likely? In a place like this?”

“This was once an advanced civilization so there may be technology we can salvage.” He paused, watching her face. “But I will not offer false hope. Our situation is… challenging.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze drifting to the deepening shadows around them. “At least we’re not alone,” she said softly. “I mean, we have each other.”

“I can think of no better companion,” he said truthfully. This fragile female who had awakened him from stasis, who had dragged his unconscious body from a crashed ship, and who had willingly offered him her energy, was a female worthy of any warrior.

A smile curved her lips and her eyes met his. “Likewise, my zombie.”

“Why do you call me that? I do not understand the reference.”

A hint of pink colored her cheeks. “Zombies are supposed to be people who have died but are not dead. They eat people’s brains for sustenance. It’s just a story,” she added quickly.

“A not entirely inaccurate analogy,” he said thoughtfully.

“It’s a silly nickname. You’re not at all like they are in the movies.”

“I do not believe I have ever had a nickname before. I like it.” He allowed himself to run a finger down the soft silk of her cheek. “You gave me life, my Zinnia.”

Her blush deepened and she glanced away, but he could sense her pleasure at his words.

Night had fully descended now, turning the ruins into a mysterious landscape of shadow and starlight.

The alien sky above him was awash with unfamiliar constellations, beautiful and remote.

Somewhere among those distant points of light was the rest of the galaxy—civilizations, trade routes, the vast tapestry of interconnected life.

Here, it was only the two of them, bound together by a chain of circumstances neither of them could have imagined.

He put his arm around her and drew her closer, tucking her head beneath his chin. She came willingly, nestling against him with a quiet sigh.

“Sleep,” he whispered. “I will watch over you.”

“Goodnight, Jaxx,” she murmured before her breathing slowed into the steady rhythm of sleep.

He remained awake, his senses alert to any potential threats lurking in the darkness.

His gaze traveled again to the intricate stonework of the ruins surrounding them, that strange sense of familiarity teasing at the edges of his consciousness.

The answers were somewhere in his mind, locked away by trauma or time or both.

But for now, the most important thing was to protect the female sleeping so trustingly in his arms. She had given him a new chance at life, and he would die before he allowed anything to happen to her.