does that, but it also does something else.
It wakes up the neighborhood.
The people of Earth don't know that aliens exist. They think they do, but there's a difference between thinking and knowing.
People can watch as many alien invasion, stoner comedy, or animated movies they want. What they imagine life beyond Earth's atmosphere is not even close to reality, and that's the way otherworlders want it to stay.
One thing is for sure. When the apartments around us light up like Christmas, the Ferissian is not happy.
Could be because of the blood coming out of his wound, though.
There's shouting. I punch him in the leg again, right where I got him the first time. He dodges with a snarl. I scramble to my feet and dash away. “Help!” I shout. “Somebody call the police!”
He yanks me back.
People are looking out of the windows now. Mobiles are flashing.
He snarls and twists into shadows of the vines. I dig in my heels to gain traction. I'm not going down without a fight. This isn't going to last long. I can already hear people pounding down the stairwell to help. Thank god I live in a neighborhood that has a lot of ex-soldiers. More than a few of those guys will have baseball bats.
But damn, what if they do have baseball bats? What if they figure out the Ferissian isn't normal?
Hell, I don't have time to worry about that now! I've got a getaway to make.
I have to abandon the duffel.
I pull my arms out of the handles and go forward, my legs pumping.
About a million pounds of forceful Ferissian forearm come down in front of my hips, basically clotheslining the bejesus out of me. “Oof!”
He keeps turning. Imagine a ballet spin, only in combat boots, the balls of his feet grinding on the asphalt. He ducks just out of sight of the first guy to my rescue, disappearing around the corner for an instant.
That's all he needs.
I hear the click and I know—he activated the transporter.
My last sight is the faint outline of leaves against the super bright backdrop of fluorescent lights.
We're gone.
Transporting is not easy. It feels like a rollercoaster spinning in place, as weird as that sounds. Dip, punt, and twist. That's all you need to know. Then you're in a completely different place and, in my case, in a deep load of shit.
Cold rushes my face. This is recycled air at its finest, swamping my skin the way a fridge ghosts out in the summer. I have the vague impression of white and blue and gray before I'm turning again. His arm is thick and unyielding.
I ram my elbow into his solar plexus. Dammit! For god's sake, there's no bone there. It shouldn't cause this kind of pain.
God, I'm in trouble.
But I'll be damned if I make this easy.
Chapter Two
Like any of my kind, I relish battle. The hunt, the struggle, and the ultimate victory are the same as breathing. When my brother Feruz proposed this plan to me, I seized upon the chance to take the game to an intergalactic level. Earth is the great uncharted territory. It is under the protection of the powers that be, but a ship can slip in without detection if one takes the right steps.
I predicted the chase itself to be quick, of course. The target is half-human, no physical match for me and mine. This was to be an exercise, a favor to my brother and a little thrill-seeking on my part. Regardless if Feruz succeeded, for me the aftermath and reward would be worth it.
The female, however, is not what I expected.
Satisfaction burns in me when she grunts in surprise. I toss her from me to the floor. She does a strange one-legged somersault, spins, and comes at me with a growl. I swat her punch away. She takes advantage of the deflection and plows the other fist into my side. I snarl playfully, enjoying the tussle.
She bares her teeth.
I swing her bag into her belly.
“ Oof! Why, you dirty bastard—” she bites out in Galactic Standard, yanking the back away.
I smirk. “That is payment for stabbing
It wakes up the neighborhood.
The people of Earth don't know that aliens exist. They think they do, but there's a difference between thinking and knowing.
People can watch as many alien invasion, stoner comedy, or animated movies they want. What they imagine life beyond Earth's atmosphere is not even close to reality, and that's the way otherworlders want it to stay.
One thing is for sure. When the apartments around us light up like Christmas, the Ferissian is not happy.
Could be because of the blood coming out of his wound, though.
There's shouting. I punch him in the leg again, right where I got him the first time. He dodges with a snarl. I scramble to my feet and dash away. “Help!” I shout. “Somebody call the police!”
He yanks me back.
People are looking out of the windows now. Mobiles are flashing.
He snarls and twists into shadows of the vines. I dig in my heels to gain traction. I'm not going down without a fight. This isn't going to last long. I can already hear people pounding down the stairwell to help. Thank god I live in a neighborhood that has a lot of ex-soldiers. More than a few of those guys will have baseball bats.
But damn, what if they do have baseball bats? What if they figure out the Ferissian isn't normal?
Hell, I don't have time to worry about that now! I've got a getaway to make.
I have to abandon the duffel.
I pull my arms out of the handles and go forward, my legs pumping.
About a million pounds of forceful Ferissian forearm come down in front of my hips, basically clotheslining the bejesus out of me. “Oof!”
He keeps turning. Imagine a ballet spin, only in combat boots, the balls of his feet grinding on the asphalt. He ducks just out of sight of the first guy to my rescue, disappearing around the corner for an instant.
That's all he needs.
I hear the click and I know—he activated the transporter.
My last sight is the faint outline of leaves against the super bright backdrop of fluorescent lights.
We're gone.
Transporting is not easy. It feels like a rollercoaster spinning in place, as weird as that sounds. Dip, punt, and twist. That's all you need to know. Then you're in a completely different place and, in my case, in a deep load of shit.
Cold rushes my face. This is recycled air at its finest, swamping my skin the way a fridge ghosts out in the summer. I have the vague impression of white and blue and gray before I'm turning again. His arm is thick and unyielding.
I ram my elbow into his solar plexus. Dammit! For god's sake, there's no bone there. It shouldn't cause this kind of pain.
God, I'm in trouble.
But I'll be damned if I make this easy.
Chapter Two
Like any of my kind, I relish battle. The hunt, the struggle, and the ultimate victory are the same as breathing. When my brother Feruz proposed this plan to me, I seized upon the chance to take the game to an intergalactic level. Earth is the great uncharted territory. It is under the protection of the powers that be, but a ship can slip in without detection if one takes the right steps.
I predicted the chase itself to be quick, of course. The target is half-human, no physical match for me and mine. This was to be an exercise, a favor to my brother and a little thrill-seeking on my part. Regardless if Feruz succeeded, for me the aftermath and reward would be worth it.
The female, however, is not what I expected.
Satisfaction burns in me when she grunts in surprise. I toss her from me to the floor. She does a strange one-legged somersault, spins, and comes at me with a growl. I swat her punch away. She takes advantage of the deflection and plows the other fist into my side. I snarl playfully, enjoying the tussle.
She bares her teeth.
I swing her bag into her belly.
“ Oof! Why, you dirty bastard—” she bites out in Galactic Standard, yanking the back away.
I smirk. “That is payment for stabbing
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