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The winged man says something that I’m positive is a sarcastic drawl and they all laugh. I frown, but it works, I think, because Mr. Tall nods at Mr. Walking Lizard who motions for me to follow him. I glance around to see everyone’s reactions at me leaving and they all seem like it’s okay.
So I go with him. We exit the room, heading into a larger area. He glances behind him to see if I’m still there before going on. They’ve created some sort of home with stone or plaster. He takes me out into a tunnel and I balk a little. Wait. I know this rock formation and we’re in a lava tube? How active is the place geologically? “I don’t know,” I say, hanging back a little. It’s too dark and narrow out there, even if it is high enough for the other guys to walk upright. A thin strip above us gives off the bare minimum in light. “Is this safe?”
He shrugs and keeps going. I figure if I want to keep these pants clean, I’d better go, too. The tunnel twists and turns, growing wider, then narrower, and finally wider until we’re at the large mouth of the cave. “There better not be bats here,” I mutter, not expecting him to understand. No guano on the ground, so my bet is there are no animals of any kind but you never know.
Mr. Lizard walks along a wall. He stops, reaches out for a stick resembling a cross between a broom and a shovel. Giving the tool to me, he points at a ledge with a stack of limp leaves. I stare at him, the leaves, then the hole he’s now pointing at, and I snort. “You have got to be kidding me. I don’t fucking believe this. You people are space aliens. S P A C E aliens. Not cavemen. Not barbarians. Not animals, but space aliens with space ships and beyond Earth technology. And as a prisoner of, who? Space aliens, I expect to not have to use it in a hole.”
I give him the shovel. “Seriously. I’ve used a truck stop toilet, a port-o-potty, and an outhouse, but this isn’t happening. You people need to get some indoor plumbing or I’m out.”
As soon as the words leave me, I realize how dumb all this is. Mr. Lizard holds out the shovel again, which I take because of course. He walks away as if I’d never said a word and goes back through the tunnel opening. Which, is actually tough to see unless someone’s standing right here. I’ll have to look at how they stacked rock to look like a natural tumble later when my bladder isn’t harassing me.
Peeing is such a relief and grabbing a fresh leaf, I rub one of my wrists with it to make sure I’m not allergic. Nothing happens after a few seconds, so I wipe with one and use another to try cleaning up my hands.
I’m so filthy. I’m sure they’re all breathing better now that I’m outside. I glance over at the large entrance to the cave. Speaking of outside… A faint greenish glow lights up the leaves blocked sky. I could go, find the crash, and….
Then what? I don’t know what the original group of aliens wanted with all of us, but I can’t imagine anything good. Zoo animals? Sex slaves? Housekeeping? None of the above sound appealing. I wander closer to the entrance of the cave. Plus, what’s edible out there and what’s toxic? What if colorful means safe on this planet and dull means deadly?
The situation could be far worse than it is. I stare at the trees for a few seconds, thinking hard about what to do despite my headache. While I don’t entirely trust the men back there, not even the yummy Mr. Tall, none of them have tried to kill me or sexually assault me. I’ll hang out with them but leave if any of them harass me.
I take a few steps back, somewhat glad I don’t have to survive out there on my own. Headed for the tunnel, I find Mr. Tall’s already there. He says something to me with a smile and I smile back at him. “I have no idea what you’re saying but your voice sounds nice, so okay.”
He seems satisfied and indicates I should lead the way. I take off, my eyes needing time to get used to the darkness. He’s begins talking. I don’t know why but it’s nice to hear. Maybe he’s bored living here with just three other people and I’m a novelty. That’s understandable.
We’re at the doorway and I go in first. The men are already seated at a table in the middle of the room. I’d noticed it before but the bladder wants what the bladder wants and I didn’t really pay attention. They have metal chairs along both sides of the table and a couple of boxes stacked at the end. They’ve put me at the head and on the boxes. I grin because it’s pretty sweet of them to make a place for me. There are five plates set with food and glasses of water to accompany them.
I approach, not eagerly, but not too afraid. Mr. Tall’s twin, I guess Mr. Not-So-Tall pats the stacked boxes. Mr. Lizard is next to him and Wings sits across from Lizard. Tall sits across from Not-So-Tall. I sit, too, and laugh when I see the silverware. They all have knives and a goofy little spork while I just have the spork. “Some he-men you are, afraid of a girl with a knife.”
They’re all smiling at me like I’m good company, so, okay. Wings begins eating first and everyone digs in. I hesitate, not sure if I can eat this stuff. Everything looks all right and smells heavenly. My stomach growls loud enough for everyone to hear. “Sorry.”
Tall nods at my plate and takes another bite. I sigh and pick up my spork. This is scary. I pick the food most likely to be tasteless, and nibble a little bit from my fork. Not too bad. A spicy flavor that all of a sudden explodes on my tongue. My entire mouth burns like bees have stung me and I spit out everything on my plate. I can’t even form words, but scream, grabbing for the water and gulping it down as a reflex.
Bad idea.
The water washes whatever hell going on in my mouth down to my stomach, shredding everything along the way. My entire body sweats as if even the water is trying to escape this pain. “You’ve poisoned me,” I gasp. “Why?”
My nose burns, too, and tears wreck my vision. I can’t see where to go, so I stay seated, hoping I don’t fall off the chair. I grip the table’s edge. The men are running around, yelling at each other. I want to yell at them about killing me so painfully, but can’t even breathe.
Someone has a cup under my nose as if trying to get me to drink more and I shove him away. “Fuck no,” I manage to gasp. “This is bad enough.”
I wrap my arms around my lower torso and begin to rock. Anything to ease the searing pain radiating from my stomach. I want to throw up but the idea of that stuff coming back to my mouth along with my stomach acid terrifies me. I begin moaning, “Stop,” over and over again as a mantra and a command.
Strong hands hold my arms down as another man squeezes my nose shut and lifts my chin. I snap my mouth shut, eyes too watery to see who’s doing this to me. I’m not taking any more poison from these assholes. Or wasn’t, until one of them squeezes my jaw and forces my mouth open. I try to fight but it’s no use. They’re too strong and soon, they’re pouring something in and holding my jaw shut so I can’t spit out anything.
Relief. Sweet sweet relief as something tasting like melted ice cream slides down my throat, healing me along the way. I slump, not entirely cured but weak and euphoric from the lack of pain. One of them picks me up like I’m a baby, taking me back to the bedroom. He lays me down on the bed, wiping my eyes with a soft cloth. He’s talking to me in a soft and apologetic tone. I sigh, my breath shuddering. “Thank you.”
After a few more moments, all the pain is gone. I open my bleary eyes as Wings comes in with a bowl and another glass of water. He’s talking to Tall, who’s sitting next to me on the bed. I scoot away. “No, I’m not hungry. You go on and eat. I’m fine.”
Tall extends the bowl to me but I shake my head. I don’t even trust the water. He turns to Wings and says something to him. Tall pats my shins, talking as Wings comes back with a plate of whatever hell on Earth, or on here, that they served me a few moments ago. Tall takes it, eats a couple of bites, and slides further away from me. He nods at the bowl, says something, then continues to eat.
I think he’s telling me the food is safe, but I’m afraid. I shake my head, moving to the opposite side of the bed. He picks up my water, holding it out to me but I shake my head again. I can’t trust that what looks like water isn’t gasoline or acid to someone from Earth. He takes a drink before holding the glass out to me again but I can’t. I hold up my hand as if to push him away. He stands up while saying something I’m sure is a curse. “Bick,” I repeat what he’d just said and point at the glass. “Bick,” I repeat, and point to him. “Bick.”
Tall scowls as the others laugh. He waits until they stop before sitting down again. Pointing to his chest, he says, “Cinq. Cinq” He taps his chest a few more times, then adds, “Cinq.”
At this point, one would be tempted to point at him and say, “Bick,” again, but I’m still feeling the effects of the poison. So, I say, “Sink,” instead.
He grins, his face lighting up like hearing me say his name is the best thing in the world. “Cinq.”
Wings comes over along with Not-As-Tall and Lizard. I feel a little like Dorothy confronted by the farm men after waking up. I point to Wings first, and he says, “Quin.”
