Authors: Gordon Mackay
Belinda and Scott looked at her, recognising the dilemma. He approached her, placing both arms around her waist while facing her. She could smell his
musky sweat and manly smell. His chin and cheeks were heavily covered with unshaved bristles while his lips looked dark red and slightly open; she felt the need to kiss him.
“Holy smoke!” he muttered as she released him. “That was a real smackeroo of a smooch, Phyllis. Where on earth did you learn to kiss like that?”
Phyllis didn’t reply because she couldn’t. It had also seemed like the natural thing to do and it just sort of happened. She remained quiet, standing perfectly still with a satisfied smile across her cherry-red lips. Belinda was positively gobsmacked by the occurrence, never imagining she would see such a spectacle from, Phyllis. She did secretly envy her though. She would have loved to have shared a kiss with the living legend, maybe more, but that was all about to end as Frell’s recovery was almost complete. Scott wiped his lips, then his hairy chin. He enjoyed the kiss and would have tried for another except his lover was almost with him again.
Frell
, he thought, loudly,
I never thought I would ever see you again
. Both ladies heard him. Belinda rushed across and laid a smacker on him too. He had once again been taken by surprise at the sudden onslaught which knocked him off balance. The pair went over with their lips firmly pressed together. Scott landed on his back with her on top, still being kissed like there might not be another tomorrow… or chance, as it was. He really enjoyed it and would have loved something more. Phyllis moved towards them as they landed, expecting some sort of injuries to have occurred. Seeing they were apparently OK and still embraced, she decided to leave them alone. She looked at her hands instead, waggling her fingers and feeling them move without pain. They felt as if they were her own, which they were now. Hearing Belinda getting herself up from the floor, she turned to see Scott still on his back and smiling. Belinda’s face was also covered in the biggest smile she had ever shown. They had both shared a kiss with Scott and could now begin to understand what Frell had experienced. They wondered what the rest felt like.
“Holy smoke and
brimstone! That was one heck of a kiss, Belinda. You’re both great snoggers.”
They all let out a laugh as only true friends could. Then the main doors flew open without warning and two Greys sprinted in. Scott sat up as he removed the revolver from its holster, not bothering to waste time taking aim as he pulled the trigger. They had almost reached Phyllis, when their little bodies seemed to trip with innards flying from their bodies. One bullet each was all it took. The women stood in shock as the events had happened so quickly, standing perfectly still while Scott cracked-open the revolver as one good and five empty cartridges were ejected across the floor. He rummaged into the holster and spilled the contents of one box by his feet, picking up enough bullets to fill the six small cambers before snapping it closed again. Spinning the barrel next to an ear, he listened to the sound of it rotating. “Mike would have been proud of that!” he confidently said.
Nothing more could be said after the explosions of two bullets tearing two Greys apart. Belinda and Phyllis felt it
was
Mike who was the Gung-Ho shot, with his example showing in Scott’s actions. They continued standing in silence, unsure of what else might happen. It had obviously been an attempt to take hold of Phyllis, and possibly Belinda too. They each knew they were all at risk of further invasion, but Scott also considered it was an attempt to evaluate the situation by the leader of the base. By the instant dispatching of the two who came running in, the commander was now more informed. It should also have been obvious to him, Scott surmised, that the group of humans would want to escape; to leave the base by the way they had arrived. But having already dealt with any number of the little grey clowns and their masters, he was beginning to see a pattern of directing all the available force at the problem instead of diverting some of the strength to where the action might move on to. Scott suspected the greys would be absolutely useless at the game of chess.
The report was passed and the commander’s brow furrowed like a
newly ploughed field. The base had been invaded by degenerative apes that had the ability to create murder and mayhem, he thoughtfully considered. They must be stopped, he decided, and as quickly as possible before the possibility of excessive contamination would ensure base’s personnel extermination during decontamination. He began to think about what could be done to alleviate the current situation.
Scott was about to crack a small joke about hard-boiled eggs, and how they can be awfully runny sometimes, when a massive hatch hinged itself open on the furthest away wall. Two caskets came sliding out on a roller conveyor with each cloaked in a
tumbling mist and rolling clouds drifting across the floor. Scott thought the scene looked like something out of a vampire movie. He found he couldn’t move towards the caskets. They resembled coffins coming out of a freezer with frost and condensation running off. He really wanted to rush across to greet Frell, to take her in his arms and kiss her awake like some gormless Prince Charming; but his legs wouldn’t obey his commands. Belinda and Phyllis, on the other hand, were already by them as they came to a halt. Belinda quickly returned to the screen to see the most recent information. She read it, building a picture of how long it might still be until their friends were fully recovered. The mist had all but gone as the room’s temperature had thawed them sufficiently to prevent the mist and precipitation. On the top of each casket was a blue suit, both neatly folded. Releasing an exhaled amount of relief, Scott had realised they would require clothes, for without them they would have been as naked as the day they had been born.
“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed loudly, running a hand through his hair while rubbing the stubble on his chin with the other. “I need a shave and a wash. Frell will think I’ve turned into an ape or something.”
Neither woman commented, they could only smile before smirking with laughter.
“And what else might the
something
be?” asked Phyllis.
He gave it a little thought, before replying, “A werewolf, I
guess.”
That did it. Both women bust out giggling. Any tension in the situation had dispersed. He raised both hands as if they were claws
, releasing a growling sound from deep down. The laughter got louder in consequence, before Phyllis added, “Whatever you do, Scott, do not do that to Frell as a first greeting when she recovers.”
“Why not?” he joked.
“Because she would more than likely jump up and rip your hairy head off.”
Scott and Belinda stopped giggling for a moment, considering what Phyllis had said, wondering if she was serious. Then Phyllis laughed at their serious and wondering faces, to which they all joined in. Unknown to the three of them, both caskets had begun to open, but only just by a fraction, with the sound of Frell and Drang’s bodies jumping inside as there life-force was kick-started. Both started to regain their levels of consciousness, breathing chilled air with a wheeze. With flickering eyes and twitching fingers, arms, legs and toes, the two slowly returned from as near to death as was possible. Frell’s first word was already on her lips even before the recovery process had begun.
“Scott?”
He almost choked as he heard her calling his name. A lump had appeared in his throat preventing him from speaking. Both casket lids flipped-open, releasing a final misty haze which quickly faded in the
warmer air.
The Control Room’s panels were functioning again and the last of the dead and mutilated bodies thrown into the lake. It had been noticed there was an increased amount of activity in the water just beyond the lake’s deepening ledge. An occasional fin broke the surface, creating large waves that splashed ashore, washing away the remaining slime that lingered on the stained sand and grit. The discarded remains had created a feeding frenzy as several large beasts were seen to thrash around while devouring bits of little bodies, where a form of territorial truce was agreed while there was more than enough for all.
The latest commander was still trying to comprehend what had actually happened to cause such mayhem, accepting reports of damaged doors and wrecked cameras and sensors, noting the time of each occurrence. There appeared an obvious pattern following the forced entry into the base, with the group’s progress matched to their trail of destruction and killing. The commander didn’t need to be any kind of Sherlock Holmes to figure it out; even Deputy Dog
would have managed. The commander still felt pleased with his own efforts nonetheless. The human with the bullet wounds had made a full recovery and his interrogation would begin as soon as all the repairs were completed and the base was secure. Until then, the hairy ape would remain in his accommodation. The weaponry had been taken to another area, close to the Control Room where the commander could maintain a watchful eye over it. He was tempted to touch the ammunition, possibly feeding it into one of the things called a rifle, but having witnessed the carnage caused by such a device he decided to leave well alone.
Mike had been close to death as the machinery was set to repair and heal, where bullets were surgically extracted and wounds cauterised. The base still smelled of burnt flesh and singed
hair with ventilation raised to its maximum in an attempt to rid the tunnels of earthling scent and germs. A report had still to be started, the story of destruction, death and failure. Of deliberate sabotage and murder of the Empire’s personnel, not to mention the seized spacecraft and missing equipment, including the disappearance of the original base commander. And if the clues were to be believed, there had only been four humans running amok within the base, which included the captive. The mammalian primates would be destroyed as soon as they were captured if he could only get the opportunity to do so; but as they had already departed there wasn’t much of a chance. But then a thought struck him as a hammer might a nail. If the humans’ left in the base’s ship, which they had of course, where might be the ship from which they had arrived in? It occurred to him the ship must be situated close to the entrance doors that were destroyed for initial access. He ran over the entire scenario once again to be certain he hadn’t missed anything important, checking and cross-checking the times with occurrences of their progress. He was convinced the ship
must
be close to the doors that lay in a molten mess.
It must be located
, he thought, rising from his chair with purpose. The fugitives would return, he knew.
Scott looked over the lip of the casket from where Frell’s voice
had originated, almost afraid to look. She lay perfectly still while carrying out her own little test of limbs and digits before attempting to move. Her fingers felt as if they were responding, as did her toes, ankles and legs. Her arms were proving functionally serviceable and her breathing felt clear. She knew her vocal cords worked and her eyes did too as she saw a face peering at her over the casket’s edge. She didn’t hesitate in recognising who the stubble-chinned face belonged to and raised a hand to touch it. He laid his own hand across hers as she caressed his cheek, lifting it to gently kiss it. She released a long sigh, loudly and sensually. Everything about their dire situation and surroundings had taken second place to Scott as the beautiful woman who lay naked within the casket captured all his attention. A desire to take her in his arms and kiss her was foremost in his mind as Drang raised himself from
his
coffin. He had watched Scott treat her hand to the kiss, wondering what he might do next.
“
I hope you do not think about kissing my hand, Scott.” Drang was showing a smile that said he was pleased to see him again. Scott twisted around, still clasping Frell’s hand closely. He could only smile back as he was lost for words. His sweetheart had returned, the gorgeous blonde he would kill and die for was right in front of him and his heart was pounding in all its loving glory. His throat had dried making it difficult to swallow, speaking was impossible. He could only respond with smiles of happiness.
Belinda and Phyllis
assisted Drang to climb from the casket, handing him the blue suit to wear. Both women noticed
his
penis and pubic hair as he had left his confining box, each wanting to touch it to see how it felt in their hands. The scrotum sack didn’t look quite as attractive, but it too caught their interested stares. Drang would’ve got the shock of his life if a couple of pairs of hands had taken hold of his privates while climbing down, probably scaring the life out of him in the process. Or on the other hand, he might have enjoyed the experience and the surprise.
Frell raised herself too, but only after prising her hand from Scott’s. It had been gripped like a vice, with the jaws needing to be wrenched apart before she could get free. It had been nice to be held by him again though, she smiled.
Once both captives were free and clothed, the question of their escape became uppermost in the conversation. Belinda had already informed Frell and Drang of the latest predicament, where they were trapped in a room with only one way in and out. Scott was all for shooting their way out and Belinda was prepared to use the globe’s destructive energy. Phyllis was still mesmerised with her new hands, wiggling her fingers and thumbs as if they were new toys to play with. Both Frell and Drang hadn’t been told about her damaged hands so watched her in silence while formulating a couple of theories as to why she might be doing what she was. Scott stood beside Frell with an arm around her waist, hardly believing he had found his dream woman. She was enjoying the sensation of his body against her own. And even though she seemed to be engrossed in Phyllis’s behaviour she was already planning her way into his arms once more. She was aware of the failed fertilisation attempt and was ready to conceive again. She just needed the opportunity, the time and the place, and hopefully without an audience. She raised her eyes from the playing hands to meet Scott’s. The message was crystal clear and he responded with a lingering kiss. The others fell into silence as the lovers looked as if they might actually attempt another session of sexual activity, wondering if they should just turn around, watch or try walking out the door. It was only when the two had parted that they understood they were only showing their affection and love for each other. The three breathed a sigh of relief. Belinda realised they must escape as soon as possible, for a great many reasons, including the one where sex might actually take place in front of them all, should they not manage to escape soonest. Frell had still to complete her mission before she could return to their Mothership, doubting if the fact there were others present would prevent her from implementing her reason for being there in the first instance.
The sound of a scuffle filtered in from outside the doors, making the larger group wonder what might be happening. The base’s commander had decided to place every single member outside the door to physically throw themselves at the quintet as they left the room’s safety. He would remain within the Control Room to oversee the operation, a place where he could be contacted by all at any time and able to monitor the situation. Belinda read the screen’s updated information, informing the others of the
strategy. Scott waived his revolver in the air above his head while Belinda began to prepare the sphere. Phyllis explained her hand situation before Frell and Drang caught up with the events that had occurred since they had been captured. Learning they were in a subterranean base beneath a vast ocean of water and swimming to safety was not an option, they began to look for another means of escape; other than blasting out with weapons blazing. Scott recalled the movie, where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid ran from their place of safety with six-guns firing salvoes of bullets in all directions, believing they could shoot their way out of a tricky situation. What had seemed like a good idea actually turned into a fatal death-trap because the heavily armed forces that waited on them were much greater in number than was expected. He recalled their fate and the mistaken belief of escaping easily, turning the thought into the position he presently found himself and the others to be in. He too began to wonder if there might be another way of escaping as he only had six bullets at any one time and the sphere would only take-out so many at once.
Phyllis said, “What about the doorway where the caskets entered through. Where does that lead?”
Belinda actuated the screen’s plan of the base, concentrating her attention on routes for automated conveyors and passageways. Pressing a few buttons to actuate a search, she began to sound hopeful as she announced, “The doorway leads downwards to a subterranean level, one where there are other entrances and exits.” Turning to Phyllis with a beaming grin, she said, “I think you have found us a safer way of leaving, and if my calculations are correct, there is a direct passage leading close to the dock where the ship we arrived in is parked.”
They all looked at each other, wondering who was going to make the first move, when Phyllis commanded, “Follow me!”
Running to the edge of the doorway, she ripped a panel from the wall with a cracking splintering sound. Holding it firmly in her hands with sparks flying around her, she said, “My new hands work really well with lots of strength and grip. Bloody brilliant!”
Frell and Drang heard her expletive, wondering how she could find such language in her vocabulary. Then it dawned on them both at once. She had been in Scott’s presence for quite some time and his influence had obviously affected her in different ways; for instance, her
own vocabulary had taken on a more colourful bouquet. They both knew from experience how his presence could change the mind and habits of an individual. They simply smiled at her outburst, recognising his words leaving her mouth.
Casting the wrecked panel to one side, she altered a few wires within the uncovered power-distribution box before
activating something concealed within the wall’s cavity. The hatch flung itself open with a tremendous bang, continuously bouncing against the upper door-stops. The door’s motors were still running as hard as they could as their limitation cut outs were none existent as automatic control was overridden. Phyllis beckoned the others to follow, insisting they should get through as quickly as possible because the motors wouldn’t last long with the hatch slamming open until its inevitable failure. Without any questions they left the room as the first wafts of smoke began to appear. The burning smell was becoming chokingly strong and the feeling there might be a fire in the not too distant future spurred them to move even quicker. Belinda had memorised the route to take, but they must first gain access to the lower level. She moved forward to take the lead, tracing the way as she remembered it. They worked their way along a narrow tunnel where the roof was too low to stand upright. Then the access shaft appeared, a vertical drop with small hand and foot rails set into one wall. The light was so dim they couldn’t tell how far down it went.
“There’s only this one way out,” Belinda announced to her audience, just as the sound of a slamming door behind them echoed
loudly. Recognising the motorised door had finally failed and dropped like an effective guillotine, she added, “We do not have any other choice. We must climb down to escape.”
Scott squeezed past the others to peer down the shaft, whistling at the sight of fading rails and walls into the distance. “It looks like an express elevator shaft to hell,” he said.
Standing beside Scott, Belinda looked downwards into the plummeting darkness, seeing the colours fade from light to black, trying to whistle like he did. She failed completely. He couldn’t help himself, giving her a comical nudge in the ribs with his elbow, grinning smugly. She returned the compliment, but not nearly so gently by mistake. He felt the pain of it, like a kick in the rib cage, but took it in good measure, smiling to let her know it was OK while he really wanted to say,
Ouch
!.
Then the communications channels reopened from the Greys around the base. The entire party stopped to listen, trying to make a vivid mental picture of what might be going on and if any plans or traps were in the process of being reorganised. Belinda insisted they start climbing down at once.
“Our safety and our lives depend on how quickly we can return to the ship.”
With
out any further comments, they each followed the other, all climbing down the rungs and disappearing into the shaft’s dark and dismal gloom. Belinda agreed to lead with Scott watching their backs.
The shaft had been sunk for some considerable distance, but only enough to leave a safe margin of rock between the two floors for structural integrity. Another corridor was where they
ended up dropping into, with limited lighting and no visible indications of direction. Belinda was certain she knew the direction to take and led them.
There was a deathly chill with signs of condensation on the walls. A humming sound assured the group there was
adequate ventilation and breathable air. And even though there was a slight amount of moisture drifting around, the floor was dry and clean, where no footprints would show they had passed by. They all recognised the significance of not leaving any clues so each was as careful as their predecessor concerning not making any marks or leaving signs of their presence. There were no
Hansels
’ or
Gretels
’ among them, and definitely no trail of bread crumbs either. Scott’s hunger pangs had been forgotten and his newest concern was to get everyone out of that base and away to safety. His next mission in life was to create another with his beautiful lover, Frell. What had also slipped his mind was how tall and athletic she appeared and how absolutely drop-dead gorgeous she actually was. A woman definitely worth risking his life for, he knew. He was as smitten as a teenager hopelessly in love with a page three babe.