“Pigs aren’t predators—” I whisper. I don’t know what bears are.
The orb brightens, and a screen materializes in the air. I blink as it catches my attention, breaking the spell of Vruksha’s gaze. We both face the screen. Whatever it’s showing us is hazy, fuzzy, and dirty, but through the messy streaming, shapes emerge.
“There are three more bears west, following a herd of deer, and south lies two snakes,” the orb finishes.
I take in the sudden imagery, hoping to get a clear view of what it’s trying to show. I want to see these predators, what I might be up against when I make my way back home.
I need it to distract me from the way Vruksha is making me feel. I shiver.
Giant shapes appear. They are large, furry creatures standing on all fours. They must be these bears, since I know what pigs and snakes are. They don’t look frightening to me, but their size gives me pause.
“Show the snakes,” Vruksha demands.
The airy screen blurs, shuts off momentarily, then returns with a crackle. At first, all I see are trees. Nothing but thick branches, bushy leaves on some, while others have pine needles and cone-shaped baubles hanging from them. The same trees I’ve been seeing for weeks now.
“I don’t see a snake,” I say.
“Wait for it,” Vruksha tells me.
Something emerges. It’s slight at first, perhaps an appendage? But whatever it is, it coils around a branch slowly. Covered in scales of black and grey, it gets bigger and bigger. It reminds me of Vruksha’s tail. Another one of his kind?
The tail slips out of sight, and I search for where it went.
One of the branches shakes and flings, and something large drops to the forest floor.
“A snake?” I gasp.
The rest of a serpentine tail comes into full view, and so does the male the tail is attached to. My gut twists.
“Death Adder,” Vruksha murmurs.
The image wavers, but the male before me scares me to my bones.
He isn’t beautiful like Vruksha, or even the green one, Azsote. He’s large, scarred, and crooked, with stripes of thick black scales from chest to tailtip. His muscles are meaty and ripped, his hair is tied to the top of his head, and he wears garish white trinkets which are attached to his hair, arms, and waist.
Bones?
There’s a scar trailing from one of his eyes and into his mouth, making it appear like he’s scowling. There are more scars. Some of them are deep, as though there are chunks of his flesh missing.
His dark eyes whip in my direction.
My back straightens. I know it’s not possible—I think—but the male is glaring directly at me.
His tail strikes out, and the image disappears. I stare at the air, waiting for the picture to return.
It doesn’t.
“That’s not a snake,” I whisper.
“No, that’s a Death Adder,” Vruksha mentions that name again. I’m not a fan that Death is in this male’s name. “One who will break you and use you, if he were to get his hands on you. Zhallaix, he’s called. He’s made his den in another bunker on the other side of the airfield.”
I swallow. “Will he come here?”
“No.”
I blow out a breath. “Are you sure?”
“He will lay traps and wait for us to come to him. Zhallaix does not hunt.”
That’s not better. That sounds worse. Much worse.
“Why is he called Death Adder? What’s a Death Adder?”
“Zhallaix is gifted with exceedingly powerful venom. He is a rabid male who once tried to rule us with his power, but we have all fought him to keep our territory. He has survived us all. I don’t believe anything can kill him. Especially not a small human female.”
I tighten my arms over my chest. “How do you know he’ll hurt me?”
My plan to run wavers.
Vruksha snarls. “You underestimate me if you think us understanding each other means we are not savage creatures. I have fought him and nearly died on several occasions, and I am sure we will fight again, he and I. He will hurt you because he does not use nor trust the mechanical beings of this world. He destroys all technology he finds. Death Adders are rapists, of his kind and technology, and the reason why there are no more females.”
I don’t understand half the things Vruksha says, but his mention of the females of his species stops me. My eyes shift to him. “Where are your females?”
“Gone.”
My lips flatten. ‘Gone’ does not make me feel better. “Dead?” I ask warily.
He shakes his head in answer.
“Show the other snake,” Vruksha barks at the orb.
The orb glitters with lights again. “The other snake is no longer in range.”
Suddenly exhausted, I turn away from both Vruksha and the orb to take a look at my surroundings. Vruksha’s den. The hole I’m trapped in. He’s right, I concede. Just because Vruksha isn’t forcing me to mate with him doesn’t mean one of these other males wouldn’t.
For now, I won’t fight him to leave. I want to live, because I know I can survive this.
I can survive him. But maybe not the other...
I try to forget Zhallaix. He’s another problem I don’t need, same with the bears. Getting Vruksha’s spear is a requirement now—if I want to survive the trek back to the facility too. I won’t take my chances on luck.
Silence descends between us while I glance about, but I continue feeling the burn of Vruksha’s eyes on the back of my skin.
His bunker is long. It spans far out in front of me but comes to an abrupt stop at the end, where there’s a door. The ceiling is curved like a half-dome with ribbing, and between the cement ribs are lights—or what could’ve been lights long ago. None of them are on. And though there’s light throughout, the longer I stare, the more it seems to dim to a comforting multi-colored warmth.
The main chamber is crammed with so much stuff it eclipses a lot of my view. There’s no
