Page 33 of Protected by the Alien Warrior Triad

There are no Scorp, at least. I guess they’re all busy in the city streets, tearing through homes and dragging out the last of the screaming survivors. It’s a grim thought.

If the Capital doesn’t send troopssoon, there’ll be no one left to save.

We walk away from the city – marching for an hour in complete silence. Each of us is processing the horror of what we just survived in our own, individual way.

Eventually, we draw closer to a forest in the distance. As we approach, I realize it might give us shelter for the night.

Yet, even as I’m thinking we’ve reached temporary safety, Forn stumbles ahead of us, falling to the dirt without a sound.

I rush to him, but before I can reach the fallen warrior, his two battle brothers are already kneeling next to him. They pull a flask from their belts and give him a sip of water. Forn takes a draught – and then coughs violently, choking.

I suddenly realize how weak he truly is. Forn has taken all of the blows, and that gunshot wound would have already proven fatal if I hadn’t used a charge of the sealant gun on it.

“He’s dying,” says Stacy ominously.

“Good,” replies Runner, and I gasp at his tone of hatred.

“Runner! He saved your life!”

“Aurelians are evilinc-arn-ate,” he growls, stumbling over the unfamiliar word.

I know Runner must have heard his father say that Aurelians are ‘evil incarnate’, and is merely repeating it. Hearing the words of his prejudiced father echoing through his abandoned son makes me sick.

Prejudiced father? Who am I kidding? I cursed the Aurelians myself when my damned wrench broke earlier today. Maybe I, too, have misjudged the species. These three Aurelians went with me to save Runner and Tyler when they could have left just the city and avoided all this danger completely.

I run my hand over Forn’s sweating face. His eyes roll back until I see the whites of them, and Hadone points to his battle-brother’s thigh; at the small wound where Forn plunged the barb of Scorp-venom into his leg.

I nod, understanding instantly. Forn is in a deep, feverish state from an overdose of venom. Somehow, these Aurelians are able to survive the poison – but it affects them in ways I still don’t understand.

Good. Think critically. Think like a nurse.

It’s hard to look at Forn’s hard, muscled body and think clinically. I know I should be thinking about his recovery, but instead I just keep imagining how good it would feel to run my hands across his lean, impossibly muscular body.

Clinical, Tammy! Think clinical!

Forn tries to get up, and I lightly press against his shoulders to keep him down. I shake my head. He’s my patient, like it or not, and there’s no way I’m going to let him continue on. I saw the way that Hadone looked at a massive army of Scorp warriors, before diving in to fight them. These aliens clearly have no concern for their own wellbeing; and I know Forn would happily march himself to death if he thought it was a worthy sacrifice.

I can tell these Aurelians are going to make very frustrating patients!

I point to the nearby grove of trees, where we can at least find shelter. The night sky is clear, so when the Capital eventually sends reinforcements –ifthey send them – I don’t want them to see the three Aurelians out in the open.

At least, not before I can try to explain all they’ve done for us first.

Not that it might make much difference. The armies of the Capital are famously known for shooting first and asking questions later; if at all.

I pantomime picking up Forn, and Hadone and Darok look at each other, obviously talking with their minds. Then, as one, they follow my instructions and gently pick up their leader. Somehow, I know that Forn is the one who is in charge – the one who guides this triad in battle. With him nearly passed-out from his wounds, I wonder how decisive the two other aliens will be.

But Forn is tougher than I thought – and he’s soon able to lightly walk towards the trees himself, albeit with most of his weight supported by the other two Aurelians.

We finally enter the thicket. I glance for a place to set up camp – but, truth be told, I have no idea what I’m even looking for. I might have grown up in a farming community, but I’m resolutely a city girl at heart.

Before I can make a decision, though, Hadone and Darok take Forn’s twin Orb-Daggers and make short work of the trees all around us.

They work like machines, and I realize I was wrong to doubt that they could be decisive without their leader. Within minutes, the bare bones of a primitive structure have been constructed. Darok swings his huge Orb-Sword, chopping down a thick tree with a single blow, and uses it as a ridgeline to form a roof for the makeshift building.

I can’t help but be awed at how efficiently these Aurelians work – using forked branches to set up a leaning, free-standing structure that the thicker tree is pressed against. That forms the structure of the shelter.

The night is growing colder, and Darok and Hadone work faster – gathering thatch and leaves and covering the shelter with a fine lattice of thin branches.

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