Page 44 of Stripped By the Alien

For one desperate moment I try to force myself calm. There has to be a way out. There has to be something I've missed. Then another eruption of flame roars upward from below.

The blast of heat hits me like a physical blow. My skin feels tight. My eyes water so badly that I can barely see. The tunnel keeps carrying me forward.

For the first time since leaving Earth, I become absolutely certain that I'm about to die.

The tunnel gives one final contraction. I know what's happening before it happens. My fingers claw at the living membrane while I desperately try to anchor myself. The flesh stretches beneath my grip and offers nothing solid to hold. For a few terrible seconds I hang there, feeling the Beast gather itself around me.

Then it swallows. The floor disappears beneath my hands and I fall.

The scream rips out of me as I tumble from the tunnel into the huge space. Heat strikes from every direction at once. The furnace chamber is even larger from the inside than it looked from above. Rivers of glowing liquid twist through colossal channels below, and columns of white-orange flame roar upward through the darkness.

Hot air buffets me as I spin. My banner snaps around my legs. The furnace floor turns beneath me as I tumble, and every glimpse is worse than the last. Glowing streams. Fire. Endless heat. I try to think of something, anything, that might save me, but there is nothing to grab and nowhere to go.

13

- Nora -

Then a roar shakes the chamber.

It comes from above.

I want to look up, but something hard hits me and knocks the searing air out of my lungs.

There’s pressure, warmth, coolness, movement, the sound of wings beating, the hardness of a carapace, and the pressure of being held by arms as strong as steel.

Krix’vorr.

For an instant we continue falling together, and I wonder if he's arrived too late.

Then his wings snap wider and a massive wash of heat from below catches them. Suddenly we're climbing.

The change is so violent that my stomach lurches. The small, burning sun drops away beneath us. Heat and wind hammer against us from every direction. I bury my face against his chest and cling to him with both arms while the hard plates beneath my hands radiate warmth.

Krix'vorr says something in his own language.

The translation flower can't keep up.

It doesn't matter. I know exactly what emotion I'm hearing. He's furious.

But I don’t think it’s me he’s mad at. The realization surprises me even in the middle of everything else. His voice carries the kind of fury people reserve for something that has taken what belongs to them.

The thought sends a quick thrill through me.

The furnace walls rush past. Several times rising currents catch beneath his wings and throw us higher. He rides them effortlessly, using the Beast's own digestive fire to climb toward safety.

Only when we're far above the rivers of flame does he angle toward a broad ledge protruding from the wall. It looks organic like everything else aboard the ship, but wide enough to stand on.

We hit hard. His feet strike first. Mine don't.

Krix'vorr absorbs the impact and keeps hold of me while his wings fold against his back. For several moments neither of us moves. My heart is trying to escape through my ribs. His chest rises and falls beneath my cheek. The air here is still painfully hot, but compared to the furnace below it feels survivable.

Slowly I realize that I'm alive. Actually alive.

I pull back enough to look at him. Krix'vorr is staring down into the furnace and the expression on his face is terrifying.

His mandibles are spread wide. Every line of his body radiates tension. Below us the furnace continues to roar, flames still bursting upward as though nothing happened.

For a moment I genuinely wonder if he's considering diving back down there and fighting the ship itself. The thought should be ridiculous, but instead it feels entirely plausible.