My Xenomorph

CH 15: Safe?

All I could do is stare blankly, I just wanted to break down and cry. He seemed different, he was wearing a military combat vest over his torn filthy jeans and t-shirt,  the same black hair and green eye's. It was the tone of his voice though, the way he moved towards me asking a million questions, "Jesus, where have you been? What happened? Kat? Are you ok? Say something?".

I wondered how different I looked. "Hold up, you saying this girl is your sister you've been talking about?" It was hard to keep track of everything they were saying, my shoulder hurt and everything was getting fuzzy.

One of the other marines that escorted me chimed in, "Wow, small world after all. What'd you do, carpet-bomb a village of leprechauns for luck like this?"

"Very funny Stephen.." I tried to keep up with their conversation, but felt so sleepy. It was like everyone was talking far away really quietly. I don't really remember what happened, I must have blacked out since the next thing I knew someone was standing over me.

"...be shock, Emmanuel take her to quarantine, Stephen, get Vance."

Roman seemed worried, "Quarantine? Porter..."

The marine named Porter standing next to him sighed, "I'm sorry, but we can't take any chances." Roman didn't say anything. The marine named Emmanuel gently picked me up and quietly carried me to a small tent away from the others.

I felt like sleeping, he put me down on a cot inside and I started to drift off when another Marine came in and dismissed Emmanuel. "Hey there, Kat is it? Name's Vance, I'm just going to tend to your injuries, so lets take a look shall we?" He sat down in a chair next to me and took off my jacket and vest , then tried to take my shirt off.

'Wait.. What's he doing!?' I pushed his hands away and struggled to get him to stop. "Now, hey, quit fussing here, I need your shirt off so I can clean and stitch those scratches." This seemed really creepy, I didn't want him to take my shirt off and thrashed against him. "Hey, com'on now dammit!"

"Vat is going on in here?" The voice with the strange accent came from a woman standing in the doorway.

"Ah christ. Nothing Sasha, I'm just trying to tend to some injuries here."

"Clearly, here, let me help you." She walked over to the side of the cot.

"H-hey, I don't need your damn help Sasha!" I lay there and looked at her fearfully as she reached over and suddenly tore the sleeves right off my shirt. "Dat is how you remove shirt." He sat there motionless as she turned around and walked out of the tent, "Let me know if you need any more help, yes?"

"Well.. That's one way of doing it. Lets just get this over with, ok?" I drowsily lay there as he dabbed my scratches with antiseptic, I winced a bit as it hurt. Then he took out a curved needle and thread, 'what's he going to do with that?'

"Alright, I'm going to stitch those scratches, so this may hurt a bit." 'Wait, what? No!' I whined as he loomed over me with the needle, and started crying as it pierced my skin as he worked it through. Then again, and again, and again...

 My eyes fluttered open as light hit my face and I yawned as I tried to remember where I was. I looked down at my ripped shirt and the bandages on my shoulder, vaguely remembering someone giving me stitches. There was something about Roman? 'Roman's here?' I thought about that for a moment, trying to digest it.

I shifted slightly on the cot, I was in a green military tent, sunlight peeking through the tent flaps that were moving slightly. My eye's drifted around the room and I noticed my backpack was sitting on a small bench that was a few feet away, next to the bench was a small hanger that held my vest and jacket. My knife and gun's were missing.