Page 78 of Caveman Alien's Bride

“Come on, dude,” I mutter to myself. “Just turn to the side. I don’t want to blind you completely.”

Suddenly the cluster of eyes is yanked up, and I swear the skarp is slowing down.

Long tentacles ignore the trees and everything else to come snaking up the wall towards the watchtower.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Korr’ax swings his sword at them, severing a good few before they can get anywhere near me. “Keep going, my love! It’s working!”

He may be right, but the skarp is still coming. I ignore the infernal noise and keep systematically blinding each of the skarp’s eyes, one by one.

And now the monster is turning to the side, slowly but surely.

I stop using the mirror and instead focus the tiny little spot of burning sunlight on the tentacles that are still crawling towards me. It doesn’t work — they’re too close, and the curved mirror can’t focus the light enough.

The skarp stops turning, so I go back to burning the eye cluster. This time it takes only one for the skarp to do a sharp turn to the side. The noise fades as the mouth is turned away from the village and the skarp continues along a new route.

I shield my eyes. “I think it—”

A tentacle has snaked its way along the outside of the watchtower and suddenly comes over the edge, wraps itself around me like a constricting snake, and tightens its grip.

I scream and drop the mirror before the tentacle snaps back and drags me off the tower.

It’s sticky and covered in dirt, leaves, rocks, pieces of wood, and all kinds of debris. It can easily lift trees and dinosaurs, so my weight is no match for it. It’s going to drag me to the mouth and the grinding teeth.

I can’t move my arms, but I can scream. “Korr’aaaax!”

“Yes,” a voice rumbles below me. I spot green and orange stripes, a fanged grin, and a big sword. He’s grabbed the tentacle with one hand and swings his sword in one lazy arc that ends two inches above where the alien appendage touches me.

We drop to the ground, Korr’ax breaking my fall by grabbing me around my waist before I hit the dirt.

“That was not fun,” he says, ripping the sticky, severed tentacle off his arm and then going on to cut it off me.

The stickiness is worse than any glue, and in some spots it takes some skin with it when I pull it off. But I don’t care. I want it completely off me.

Korr’ax checks for more tentacles close by. Finding none, we stand there and watch the nightmarish skarp make its way through the jungle after a small course correction.

“It will be easy to walk to the ocean now,” Korr’ax says. “We can just follow the skarp.”

I rub sticky tentacle juice off me. “I hope I not blind him.”

“He seems to be continuing on his way,” Korr’ax points out. “And it’s the last we will see of him until next time the trok lays eggs.”

He bends down to hug me close. “My brave wife.”

“My strong husband,” I reply, my voice shaking from the scare.

He takes my hand, and we make our way into the village, through the spot where the wall logs were broken.

The tribesmen are running down from the Mount.

When they see us, they cheer with a roar that echoes from the side of the Mount.

“She chased the skarp away!”

“Bryar saved the tribe!”

“The village is still standing!”

“Whatisthat thing? A metal bowl?”

---