Page 43 of Rok's Captive
“Okay, listen up, big guy,” I snap. All patience has—poof—gone. “You can’t keep me here! I don’t belong to you. I don’t belong here!”
My voice cracks on the last word, and to my horror, I feel tears welling up again. It’s all too much—the lost earring, the unnervingly attractive alien refusing to let me leave, the growing fear that I might never see Jacqui or home again.
“Please,” I say, the fight draining out of me. “Just let me go.”
For a long moment, he stares at me, those golden eyes searching my face as if he’s trying to decipher what I’m feeling. Then, with a sound that reminds me of a long-suffering sigh, he steps aside.
Relief floods through me. “Thank you,” I breathe, hurrying past him before he can change his mind.
I step out of the cave, squinting in the bright morning sunlight, ready to begin the long trek back to where I last saw the others.
And that’s when the world seems to fall away beneath my feet.
“Holy shit!”
I scramble backward, nearly colliding with the alien who’s followed me out. My hands find the rough stone of the cave entrance, gripping it for support as I stare out at…nothing. Just open air and a drop that makes my stomach lurch.
We’re not on the ground. Not even close. The cave is set into the side of a towering rock formation, a jagged spire that rises hundreds of feet above the desert floor. Below us stretches an endless sea of sand, rippling like water in the morning light. The sun is just cresting the horizon, painting the desert in shades of gold and amber, and from this height, I can see for miles in every direction.
It’s breathtaking. And terrifying.
“We’re on a cliff,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “A really, really high cliff.”
I turn to the alien, who’s watching me with that intensity again.
“You carried me up here,” I realize. “Last night. When we were running from those things. I felt you climbing, but I didn’t realize we were going up a freaking mountain.”
He makes that rumbling sound again, and now I’m certain it’s the alien equivalent of a chuckle.
“This isn’t funny!” But even as I say it, a hysterical laugh bubbles up in my throat. “Oh my god, I was about to waltz right off a cliff.”
I peer over the edge again, trying to see a path down. There’s nothing but sheer rock face, with occasional ledges and outcroppings that might be handholds for someone with claws and superhuman strength, but certainly not for a clumsy human like me.
“Okay,” I say, trying to keep the panic from my voice. “Okay. This is…this is a problem. A big problem. I need to get down from here, but unless you’ve got a parachute hidden somewhere—which, let’s be honest, would look ridiculous on you—I’m going to need your help.”
The alien tilts his head, watching me with that intense focus that still makes my skin prickle.
“Do you understand? I need to go.” I point down at the desert floor, then at myself. “Me. Go. Down. To find my people.”
He doesn’t move, doesn’t react. Just keeps staring at me with those unnerving golden eyes.
“Okay, let’s try something else.” I take a deep breath and resort to the universal language of desperate humans—charades. I point to myself, then down at the ground far below. When he doesn’t react, I frown. “Fuck this.” Crouching down, I resort to my less-than-stellar art skills and start drawing in the thin layer of sand near the cave entrance.
With my finger, I sketch out a crude landscape—a wavy line for the horizon, the spiry shape of the rock formation that I’d set out to reach first, and a stick figure with wild hair that’s supposed to be me. I point to the stick figure, then to myself, then to the rock formations.
“I need to go there,” I say slowly, tapping the drawing. “Back to where I came from. To my friends. You know, other people like me? Smaller than you, not glowy, probably sunburned and freaking out right now?”
The alien crouches beside me, studying my childlike drawing with such intense focus that I half expect him to critique my artistic skills. His expression shifts, his brow furrowing in what looks like confusion. Or is it disgust? Anger? It’s hard to tell with a face that’s not quite human.
“Please,” I try again. “I need your help to get down from here.”
He makes a sound—harsher than before, almost like a snarl—rises and turns away from me, heading back toward the cave entrance.
“Hey!” I follow after him. “Don’t you walk away from me! You brought me up here. You’re responsible for getting me down!”
He stops so suddenly I nearly run into his back. When he turns to face me, there’s something new in his expression—something that makes me take an involuntary step backward.
“Okay,” I say, holding up my hands in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or whatever alien cultural taboo I just stepped on. But you have to understand—I’m trapped up here. I can’t climb down on my own. I’ll die.”
