Page 26 of Protected by the Alien Warrior Triad

“I’m so glad you’re okay! I’m so glad you’re okay!” I repeat the words over and over, trying to maintain my composure and give these two boys some kind of reassurance.

“What about Stacy and Tod?” Tyler demands, his voice quivering. “I wanted to go find them but… But there were so many Scorp!”

“They’re downstairs. I didn’t want to bring them to come up here in case… In case there were more...”

Runner nods, but furrows his brow. He’s always been sharp, especially for his age. “Tammy, you left themalone?”

I shake my head. “No… There’s…” This was difficult to explain. “We only survived ourselves because three Aurelians came to help us.”

Runner pulls away from me like I’ve turned into a monster. “Aurelians? They’re the ones who sent the Scorp here!”

I cringe, feeling idiotic. I’d forgotten – Runner isn’t an orphan. He had a father who left him two years ago, leaving him at just six-years-old to fend for himself. At eight, he’s the oldest of the gang, and their de-facto leader. His father was part of the Human-Nationalistic movement – the anti-Aurelian political guerrilla force that uses all methods possible to fight off the yoke of Aurelian power. Since birth, Runner had been fed a long line of propaganda – some of which I used to believe myself. Only now, after having been saved by those three Aurelian warriors, I’m not sure if I still trust everything I once thought I knew.

“Runner, these aren’t normal Aurelians.”

I try to keep my voice calm, but inside I’m terrified. Runner could sprint off at any second. He gives me a suspicious look, as if he’s not sure if all of my care and help for him over the last two years was genuine, or if I was working for the Aurelians this whole time…

“AllAurelians are the same,” he hisses. “That’s what my dad said.”

I shake my head. “Have you ever seen an Aurelian with a tattoo?”

Tyler sniffs. “Aurelians don’t have tattoos. They have blank, white skin – like a statue.”

“Like a gargoyle,” finishes Runner darkly.

“TheseAurelians,” I tell him, “have tattoosall overtheir bodies. They don’t speak the noble tongue, or the common tongue either – and their blood runsgreen!”

Runner bites his lip, his mind racing to comprehend. “And… And they kept yousafe? You, and Tod, and Stacy?”

“Yes. They fought off wave after wave of Scorp.”

Runner passes his hand over his chin, as if he has a beard. I remember his father, with his grizzly stubble, and I realize fondly where Runner got that particular gesture. Despite being abandoned, Runner still idolizes his father – and his father’s twisted ideology. It pains me to see so much of that awful man living on inside Runner.

“I don’t trust them,” Runner contemplates, “but ifyouwere stupid enough to leave our friends with them, then Ihaveto go and protect them.” Runner juts his chin up proudly as he leads the way back to the staircase.

I hate that he suddenly distrusts me – but as long as he’s walking towards safety, I’m not going to waste a second defending myself. I just wish I’d hear the rotor sounds of heli-ships swooping in to save us. Edgar wassocertain that the Capital would have had the defense forces on their way already.

Together, the kids and I make our way together down the stairs. As we reach the bottom, I find the three Aurelians in defensive positions, each watching a flank with Tod and Stacy safely inside the ring of their burly bodies.

“Runner! Tyler!” Stacy yells, and Darok wraps his hand around her mouth to silence her shrill voice.

Runner rushes forward without fear, leaping forward and pummeling Darok with his little fists. The Aurelian simply looks down in confusion, utterly bemused.

“Get your filthy alien hands off her!” Runner cries, and for a second I fear that Darok is going to try to silence him as well. Instead, Darok simply releases Stacy – who wraps her little arms around Runner and embraces him tightly.

“They’re friends, Runner!” Stacy reassures him. “They’re friends! He only grabbed me because we have to be quiet.”

“Aureliansaren’tour friends,” Runner hisses grimly, looking suspiciously up at the huge alien. The beastly warrior towers over me, and I can’t imagine how small Runner must feel standing beneath him. Yet the little boy shows no fear of the alien warrior. Instead, his eyes burn with hatred for the Aurelian – and I know that at best there’ll be an uneasy truce between him and our three protectors.

That’s the irony, isn’t it? Hatred can trump even fear.

Hadone and Forn give me a blank look. I can tell what they’re thinking: Where to next? Do we have more strays to pick up, or can we finally get out of this hellhole before the Scorp start hunting again?

I’m thinking the exact same thing. I don’t know Scorp behavior well enough to predict when they’ll start their next cycle of predatory stalking, but I don’t want to wait around long enough to find out.

What I do know is this: That nowhere in Barl is safe any more. We need to getoutof the city – right now.

---