Page 35 of My Alien Bughead
My whole body is trembling from withdrawal now, a layer of sweat coating me everywhere yet, a deeply terrified chill runs down my spine. “They couldn’t possibly hope to defeat an entire Voidstalker squad manning a fucking cruiser.”
“I told that to Arnik but desperate people do desperate things. They might start a fight even if they know they can’t win. Fuck! We need to get out of here before something terrible happens to anyone up there.”
“It’s f-fine.” Damn, now I’m shaking so hard I can’t even speak properly. “Zarkan won’t let anyone get h-hurt.”
“If you say so…” Lucía frowns at me. “Are you okay? You’re shaking all over. Are Krestilians more susceptible to cold? D’Aakh?”
I manage to shake my head. “I’m f-fine.” A lie. I’m not fine. “Just…stay alive, Lucía. P-promise me you’ll stay alive.”
“What? What are you talking about? We’ll get out of here together.” She wraps her arms around my pathetically trembling body. “Dammit, you’re burning up and your heart is racing. Didyou get hurt in the crash? Are you sick? Fucking talk to me, D’Aakh!”
She won’t let this go and I don’t want to lie to her anymore, not after she listened to my confession. A confession which, to my surprise, has eased a little of the guilt I seem to always carry around with me. Or perhaps, that’s just because I’m about to die and nothing matters anymore.
With a heavy heart, I admit the truth. “I’m dying.”
Chapter 21
Lucía
I stare at D’Aakh,my mouth wide open in shock. What the fuck did he just say? He’s dying? Like, actually dying? What?!
He does look sick. The shaking, which I mistook for him being cold a moment ago, has broken into tremors so forceful they could be borderline seizures. He’s covered in a layer of sweat, his skin burning hot to the touch. His antennae hang low, their glow so dim they’re barely visible.
The logical part of my mind takes all of that into account and agrees that D’Aakh, indeed, seems to be dying. But why?
He doesn’t seem to be injured. There was no blood. He wasn’t dizzy or disoriented and didn’t complain about any particular pain. Does he have serious internal injuries, maybe? Fuck, the sex we had must have made it so much worse. This is all my fault.
I glare at the stupid tunnel we’re stuck in. We no longer have the luxury of waiting for someone to rescue us. We need to get out of here. Now!
“Explain,” I order, springing to my feet. With a sharp tool from my belt, I start scraping away raw crylonite from the wall. Blowing up shit when we’re in a half-collapsed tunnel definitely isn’t the wisest thing to do but it’s not like we have any other options.
“It’s fine,” D’Aakh replies, his voice weak and trembling. “You can’t help me.”
I snort. “Did you just tell me what I can and cannot do? I thought you already learned that lesson, bughead. Tell me what’s wrong with you. Now,” I add, seeing he’s about to brush me off again.
“It’s…”
He trails off, and the tips of his antennae faintly glow pink. He’s embarrassed. Well, too bad for him. I need to know what’s wrong so that I can fix it. “Yes?”
Sighing, he pulls something out of his pocket. I pile the crylonite filled ore in my hands onto the floor then inspect the object in D’Aakh’s palm. It’s an inhaler of some kind, and it’s broken. Does he have a condition that requires regular medication? Then I recognize the tube inside the inhaler and groan loudly. “Fuck, D’Aakh, really? Stimsticks? How long have you been using that shit?”
“A few days. Well, more like a few weeks,” he amends. “I needed to stay awake.”
I smack him. Hard. “You’re such an idiot! Don’t you know how dangerous this stuff is?! Oh, wait. Of course you knew but you thought you could beat the side effects and avoid the addiction just by the power of your brilliant mind, didn’t you? Fucking idiot.”
I fight back the urge to kick him repeatedly and focus on the small pile of glowing green ore instead. “Alright, how do I turn this into an explosive?”
“Too dangerous.”
“D’Aakh! Tell me what to fucking do or I’ll spend the next few hours beating the shit out of you! Come on. I don’t know anything about this stuff. You get to be the smart one here and rub it in my face. Please tell me.”
Shaking his head, D’Aakh curls up on the floor in the fetal position. It might be due to the pain, or it might just be because he doesn’t want to look at me. Asshole. Time to play dirty. “So, you’re just going to curl up and die on me like Mzr died on you? Leaving me to deal with the same incapacitating guilt you’ve been living with? How nice of you.” I feel terrible saying those words but if it saves his life…
After all, I’ve already sexually assaulted him, so what’s a little emotional blackmail?
“W-what…?” He looks at me with so much despair in his eyes that I want to pull him into a hug and ask for his forgiveness. But that won’t save him. “I-I don’t want that. You hate me. Why…why would you feel guilty?”
“Because that’s what humans do. Besides, I never said I hated you. Not really. I mean, you’re easy to hate when you’re being a dick, but it’s not like, hate-hate. It’s more like you’re-so-annoying-I-want-to-bash-your-head-in hate. I don’t want you to die, D’Aakh, and I’ll be really pissed if you do. So please, stop this ridiculous martyrdom act and tell me what to do.”
