AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Seems like Nulen wants to make sure we stay at the inn and nowhere else,” Felix says.
Valerian lifts his broad shoulders in a shrug. “Since we weren’t going anywhere else anyway, let him.”
When we step into the establishment, a leather-clad woman looks warily at our masks, but is overall cheerful. However, when Dylan speaks up, the cheerfulness disappears. I guess she’s detected an accent and doesn’t like strangers.
Still, she has a zombie seat us in the restaurant area, and I thank the stars for the wooden table and chairs.
Valerian uses hygieia on my chair and part of the table, and I reward him by not telling him off when he sits by my side.
The other patrons sit far enough away that I can’t tell what they’re eating or hear their speech. Like most humans I’ve seen here, they’re pale, wear cotton clothing, and seem to be really happy considering they live on such a dreary world.
Masked “helpers” bring out appetizers in the form of a big bowl of fruit.
Valerian examines the fruit, then samples one, peeling and stuffing pieces into the proper section of his mask. He repeats this a few times, and when he comes across one that reminds me of a yellow orange, he catches Dylan’s gaze. “Can you ask the innkeeper for a whole bowl of these for Bailey?”
When the bowl arrives, Valerian hygieias one fruit and hands it to me.
I gingerly peel the thing and stick a piece through the mask’s opening.
It reminds me of a slightly tart banana, only fruitier.
“Thanks,” I say and pick up another.
After about seven more of the round banana approximations, I feel full. These must be more nutritionally dense than my favored Earth fruit.
My teammates, in the meantime, are much more adventurous/suicidal with their food choices. They gobble down bowls of pink soup made from who knows what, skewers of an unknown meat that smells like feet, and bread from a mystery purple grain. Oh, and they chase all that down with fermented drinks that make the meat smell like flowers in comparison.
For everyone’s sake, I hope Dylan can make antibiotics in a pinch.
Bellies full, everyone yawns.
Dylan compliments the innkeeper, and the woman smiles and replies in rapid-fire Necronian.
Stammering something back, Dylan reddens and looks at us with a horrified expression.
Before she can translate whatever was said, a group of strange zombies steps into the room. Their masks don’t have the scary imagery. Instead, they depict very generic, good-looking human faces. Their bodies are atypical too: The men are muscular and cut, and the females have curves in all the right places—and no bras.
“She’s offering them to us as, um… bedroom companions,” Dylan says, reddening further.
Okay. I’m starting to really want that gun to the head.
“You were wrong before,” Ariel whispers to Stanislav. “That’s necrophilia.”
Felix eyes one of the bustier zombies. “In a way, they’re like sexbots, so…”
Ariel rounds on him. “Seriously? Did you forget about Maya? Plus the whole necrophilia thing?”
Felix draws back, offended. “I wasn’t going to say yes. I was just comparing—”
“Please thank our host and tell her we’re all too tired for companions today,” Valerian says with a straight face.
When Dylan conveys this, the woman shrugs, and her bizarrely sexualized zombies scram.
She then has a regular male zombie show us the bathroom facilities, which are primitively water-based, like those on Earth. After that, the zombie leads us to a cluster of rooms. To my huge relief, the open doors reveal beds made from wood instead of dead people.
The zombie leaves us in the hallway, and Valerian points to a room with a chair. “This will be Bailey’s. I’ll be standing watch.”
Oh, right. I completely forgot. I could get killed by the Nutcracker in my dreams and go homicidal on everybody’s ass. A gift that keeps on giving.
“I’ll take that one.” Stanislav points at the room farthest from us. “And I’ll keep the mask on as I sleep.”
“Everyone should keep their masks on,” Dylan says. “I get that it’s uncomfortable, but we know the virus is already out on this world, so why take any chances?”
I don’t know about anyone else, but taking my mask off was never on the agenda.
As the other rooms are chosen, I clear my throat. “I need a volunteer.”
Fourteen eyebrows and a half of a unibrow lift in unison.
“Remember how Maxwell was able to make Dylan fall asleep?” I ask.
Reluctant nods.
“I want to do that too… to one of you.”
Silence.
I put my hands on my hips. “You’re going to sleep anyway.”
Ariel steps forward. “Fine. I’ll be your guinea pig.”
Grinning maniacally under my mask, I follow Ariel into her room.
“Do you mind waiting outside?” she says to Valerian.
If he minds, he doesn’t voice it.
As soon as she shuts the door in Valerian’s face, Ariel strips, revealing a body that’s impressive even for an uber. Talk about an unattainable standard of beauty. I don’t exactly have poor self-esteem, but if I stare at her enough, I’m certain to develop it.
