Argurma Monster (The Argurma Chronicles #2)

Chapter 3

Beverly groaned loudly and the sound echoed around her. That was odd. Her last memory was of the beach and sand and the horrible pain that had consumed her when E302 attacked. Fucking alien monsters. The memory of being stabbed by something, followed by the sharp rake of its claws and the foul scent of its fetid breath surrounding her, was one that she would take to her grave.

But she wasn’t dead yet. Somehow she was still alive. And, unfortunately, in excruciating pain. Why the hell wasn’t she drifting within a medicated euphoria? There wasn’t even dullness to the ache that was a residual effect of coming down from pain medication. Instead, she felt raw, as if every nerve ending around her wounds were screaming with hot white agony as if freshly sewn back together. She was also certain that, aside from the gashes carved into her body, half of her body would also soon be covered in a massive bruise. Pain pulsed through her side and back as she moved with the familiar pull of stitches. Her stomach pitched with nausea in response, and she was sure that her skin felt feverish—perhaps due to an infection setting in. She would need antibodies administered quickly.

Someone had sewn her up. That realization rose above the frantic chaos of her thoughts, and she focused on it through the haze of pain filling her. How was that even possible? She had been left behind at her insistence, alone on the island as far as she knew. Unless Kaylar and Meg had ignored her and stayed behind to care for her? Her jaw clenched furiously—anger at her orders being ignored, and at herself for the sense of relief that swept through her that she hadn’t been abandoned to die alone. All the same, she was going to cuss them out for stupidly risking themselves when she’d told them not to. She wasn’t entirely sure if she otherwise wanted to punch them or kiss them for saving her and subjecting her to her current misery.

Especially since the stitches didn’t feel as seamless as the repairs conducted by a medical bed. Did Kaylar dig up a needle somewhere and just go at it? She was for sure going to thank him with a fist to the face...from Meg, naturally. There was no way she was going to punch an Argurma alien. Even if she had the ability to deliver that kind of punch, she didn’t want to be murdered for her effort. She would just have to appeal to Meg’s sense of fairness with the hope that she might humor her request.

Blinking the grit out of her eyes, Beverly peered groggily at the domed light above her as she became aware of the smell of antiseptic spray. Was she in the lab or the adjacent medical station? And why were the lights on? The power grid had failed... unless this was a backup generator that she hadn’t been aware of. Although she had familiarized herself with the primary systems, she was not one of the technicians running the facility. If so, it didn’t mean that the facility was fully, or even partially, operational. It only meant that it would only run minimal systems. Security wouldn’t be functioning, nor would most of the terminals within the labs. She whispered a frantic prayer that she wasn’t in one of the old labs.

Her gaze shifted to the side and slid along a pale green wall before coming to rest on the bed railing directly parallel with her face. Below the railing, she could see the control panel. A soft sigh of relief escaped her. She was in medical. Excellent. One of them had the sense to bring her here rather than elsewhere within the lab. That meant everything she needed was nearby even if her rescuer was not. And surely the med bed would be supported by a backup generator in case of an emergency. She squinted at the med bed’s code printed above the panel.

“MB-720,” she croaked and promptly winced at the dry ache in her throat. It felt as if she had gargled with glass. Despite the pain, she nearly shouted with relief when she heard the bed respond with a ping. “Scan and administer required doses of morphine and antibiotics.”

The bed pinged again, and a metallic arm promptly unfolded above her head. A blue light lit the bottom side of the arm, and it proceeded to run down her body, followed by two abrupt jabs as the medicine was distributed.

“Fuck!” she shouted and then whimpered, tears springing to her eyes and slipping free as a fresh lance of pain ran through her throat. Wiping away the tears with one shaky hand, she glanced uncertainly around what little of the room she could see. “Meg? Kaylar? Is anyone there? I could really use some water.”

Her words were greeted by the sound of someone shifting and standing at her other side. Her eyes fluttered closed with relief. Someone was there after all. Beverly turned her head toward it as a familiar rattling sound filled the room. Strange. She didn’t recall Kaylar being so expressive except when he was truly pissed off, but she was glad to hear it. She wasn’t alone in medical after all. Where Kaylar was, Meg wouldn’t be far away. Despite their differences, the other woman wouldn’t leave her to suffer. Kaylar she was not sure about—she didn’t imagine that they processed the pain the same way. Meg would know what to do, however. And once she had something to drink and a bit of bone broth from the kitchen, she was certain she would feel better. Already she could feel the pain meds flooding through her, distancing her from the pain ravaging her. Food would help settle her stomach.

“Kaylar, thank the gods. Where is Me—” Her words died on her lips and her eyes rounded with horror at the sight of the large male moving toward her bed.

Fear rose sharply from her gut, souring with a bitter, acrid taste that filled her mouth as she stared up at the large male looming over the medical bed, his blue eyes burning with their cold cybernetic light as he focused on her.

“Y... you aren’t Kaylar,” she whispered in a choked voice.

Taller and broader than Kaylar, and possessing a rougher, hardened appearance, this was a male that she couldn’t possibly confuse for anyone else. Especially not with the experimental additions that were a product of the lab. And he haunted her for it. His image had been burned into her mind for the decades she slept in stasis.

“A02,” she murmured in greeting, her mouth trembling as she spoke his file designation aloud for the first time in a great many years.

As if to reply in the affirmative, long spidery legs unfolded from around him and his mandibles clicked softly. He appeared every inch a looming monster closing in to devour her. His lips parted, revealing his sharp teeth.

“Talech,” he corrected in a hiss of sound that made her tremble.

“Talech,” she echoed. “You may not remember me, but I am Beverly.”

Her eyes widened as her mouth snapped shut in horror. What was wrong with her? Had she suddenly become suicidal? Or maybe the morphine had made her tongue far too loose. The last thing he needed to know was that she was responsible in part for the pain he experienced toward the end.

To her surprise, he shook his head, his eyes narrowing on her face.

“I am not?” She gave him a befuddled look, wondering just how badly the drugs were impacting her.

“You are only one thing,” he rumbled.

“Which is?”

“Mine.”

Her lips parted as she exhaled sharply in disbelief. She wished she could laugh and claim that it was not true, but a grimness had settled onto his features making them appear colder than ever, daring her to contradict him. Was this some sort of justice distributed by the universe for what she had been party to? He had once been hers... But now the tables had turned, and he was letting her know irrefutably that it was her life now in another’s hands. His.