Screamer (9 page)

Elsa scowled at the large man. Kira smirked, glad to see she might have something in common with the woman after all. Other than surviving impossible odds on a hostile alien planet, it was always good to find people who were annoyed by Tarn.

“This is all well and good, but let’s get back to basics. We got five more people and not enough places for ‘em. It’s not right that people are giving up their beds to let other people sleep there.”

Tarn started to raise his hand but was stopped by the most recent speaker, the former captain of the Rented Mule, Jonathon Sharp. “Tarn, that’s not an invitation.”

A few chuckles from around the fire gave the new Marines all the clues they needed to know what they needed to about the muscular man.

“Captain, we need to be ready for whatever the Terran Coalition wants to do with us!”

“Aye, but that’s in weeks, months, or years. Right now we got to be afraid of what happens if we don’t get back safe in Treetown before the prowlers come looking for breakfast.”

Elsa looked at the others, her eyebrows scrunched. It was then that she really noticed how everyone looked. They’d all blended in, being dressed more or less the same, allowing her to dismiss the uniformity. Virtually all of them were wearing animal hides, with some such as Jeremy having more modern clothing that was worse for wear. Some of the other men and women wore less—a lot less. Kira had on a short and loose fitting leather skirt and a matching vest that was laced in front with only a couple of ties. It was a daring outfit for even the least morally restricted of Terran worlds. Here it seemed conservative.

Elsa glanced down at herself; she’d put on the moccasins, skirt, and halter top style shirt laid next to the hammock she’d woken up in. Her stomach was exposed below the shirt before her skirt began.

Kira noted Elsa’s sudden interest in her clothing. “Get used to it,” Kira added, “Your armor’s been left to rot and this is all we’ve got for clothes here.”

“They’ll come for us,” Elsa muttered.

“Don’t matter if they do,” Jeremy said bitterly. “This place already got into you, there’s no leaving. You’ll die in a matter of days if you do. If you can survive here we suspect you’ll live a lot longer than you would anywhere else, but the thing is you can’t ever live anywhere else.”

Else stared at her arm and then looked around, her eyes settling on Tarn, the man who’d rescued her and brought her to the other survivors. “So this is it, we’re trapped here?”

Captain Sharp, the leader of the small community of humans, spoke up. “Let’s douse this fire and get back up for the night. Prowlers and worse’ll be out soon.”

“What’s a prowler?” Elsa asked.

“They look like a big cat, except they’ve got six legs and mostly hunt at night. Mostly.” Tarn said. “They come around Treetown looking for scraps. Don’t matter if its garbage or someone stranded on the ground, it’s all fair game to them.”

“Welcome to Vitalis.” Sharp added.