The Runaway Alien (The Lost Planet 9) - Page 4

The bathroom is another marvel. A toilet—small, but better than the hand dug dirt holes we’ve been using—and a small shower. A shower. If there’s one thing I miss from the prison, it’s the working showers. I even test the water and find the spray almost unbearably hot.

Heaven.

Pure heaven.

Once we’ve eaten, we’ll both take long showers and use the small tubes of shampoo and conditioner and the ruddy bar of severely dried out soap to get clean. Then we’ll wrap up in fresh blankets I find in a little linen closet and get the first true sleep we’ve had in what feels like forever. In the medicine cabinet over the sink, I find yet another treasure trove.

Medicine.

Fever medication, pain medication, medication to reduce swelling and aches. Sleep medication. Even vitamins. Vitamins.

I tap out a fever pill, and after quick calculations based on the directions, break one into quarters and hope it’ll be safe for Henry to take. I’ll grind it up and add it to his milk and hope he won’t be able to taste it.

“Mama?” I hear from the other room. “Mama!”

I scurry back to him, the crushed-up pill safe in the palm of my hand. “I’m right here, baby. Look! We made it!”

His eyes are wide and bloodshot. Even though he’s not feeling well, his face brightens with a smile. Then he notices the food and scrambles up from the cot and falls on it like a rabid wolf.

“Not so fast. I know you’re hungry but take small bites or you might make yourself sick.” I carefully scrape the pill dust from my hand into his milk and hand it to him. “Look, baby, milk!”

I needn’t have worried. He downs the milk in a few big gulps, and I laugh. “You’re going to make yourself sick,” I say. “Slow down.”

We both eat until we’re stuffed and then take a long shower. The hot water doesn’t seem to run out, either. Like I said, heaven.

When we’re snuggled into bed, I test his forehead with the back of my hand.

His fever’s gone.

The relief covers me like a wave and in no time, we’re both out like a light.

The next day, after a smaller breakfast of crackers, fruit, and milk, I ration out what we have left. It won’t be much, but it’s better than nothing. I’m certain this small room has to connect to a larger network of the satellite buildings. There has to be a bunker of sorts with a ton of backup supplies. First, I want to explore this little section to make sure I haven’t missed anything.

Henry sits on the floor in the main room with a pile of blank paper and some multicolored pens I found in a drawer, doodling and scribbling to his heart’s content. He makes happy sounds and giggles from time to time, which fills my own heart with joy. While he’s distracted, I pack some supplies into a go bag just in case, then start to get familiar with the control board.

I find some dials that turn on what sounds like a radio. While fiddling with the frequencies, I happen across one filled with voices. It doesn’t take long for me to realize it’s the one they called Breccan. The Commander of those big monsters. A chill races down my spine at the sound of his voice. I let the line play out as I finish packing our go bag and feed Henry lunch of meat and canned vegetables. He complains, but he also drinks milk with a crushed half of a vitamin pill. At his urging, I take one too. We could both use the nutrients, I’d imagine.

The radio squawks all day with communications. There’s an army of men from Earth II coming. The thought makes my heart go cold. I’m so thankful we’re here in these tunnels where no one can find us. Surely they won’t come here. Maybe. If they do, I keep a weapon nearby, but out of Henry’s reach.

Around midday the next day, while I’m practicing with one of the guns, there comes a BOOM that shakes the world around us. I finish loading my weapon and Henry throws himself into my arms.

“Mama, I scared,” he whimpers.

“I know, sweetheart. I’ve got you. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise.”

There’s another explosion, as though to punctuate my words. Henry’s scream rips through the air and I hold him so tight my muscles quake. Please keep us safe.

A third explosion reaches so deep, the door to the entrance tunnel bursts open with a loud clang. Henry is wailing so loud my ears ring—or maybe it’s from the explosions. I’m not sure. Even though he claws at me, I set him down on a chair and go to the door. I have to get it closed.

Over Henry’s sobs and the rumbling from the explosions, there comes a sound from the dark tunnels that I feel in my bones. It inspires an elemental fear that makes the hairs on my arms and neck stand on end.

Tags: K. Webster The Lost Planet Fantasy
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