Chapter Six

We may have been out in the wilderness, but it seemed as if the entire world obeyed Jack’s command to stand still and be quiet.  From what I could tell, not one bird, not one rabbit, or rodent, or even an insect made a move or a sound. We all waited with anticipation for whatever it was he was warning us about to show itself.

Jack, on the other hand, had no intention of waiting to see what was rapidly making its way through the trees in our direction.  He scooped me up into his arms, like I was nothing more than a bag of laundry, and leapt into the air.  I sucked in my gasp of shock as we rocketed into the tree tops.  I could feel his flesh wrap around my nails as I clung to him for dear life while he perched on the top branch of an enormous sycamore tree.

I buried my face into his chest and closed my eyes as tight as they’d allow.  I’d always had a fear of heights.  I couldn’t remember ever being on anything that brought me higher than a six-foot step ladder without getting dizzy and nauseous.  I peeked with one eye and regretted it instantly.

Below me were a dozen of those horrific lizard people. This was the first I’d seen them with a clear head.  They were incredibly tall. I’d have to say that if one was six foot tall he would have been considered short.  I remembered them being ugly, but not this ugly.  The drugs and time must have dimmed the impact of their appearance.  Below me moved bodies that looked like lizards walking upright with heads shaped in a way to make one wonder if the lizards might have stumbled upon a way to mate with primates.  Thick gray-green scales reflected the sunlight in the most eerie manner.   My body trembled involuntarily as fear consumed me.  Now, not only was I dealing with my fear of heights, but I had to contend with the paralyzing realization that the monsters I’d almost been a meal to meandered the grounds beneath me without a care in the world.

A brief question of Sergeant Org and L’oana’s whereabouts flashed through my mind before I caught a whiff of the ever familiar Dragos stench as it billowed through the trees and filled the air.  Even Jack’s body jolted as the overwhelming foulness reached us. It was all too much for me.  Slapping my hand over my mouth, I did my best to subdue the urge to vomit. 

I was unsuccessful.

Jack stiffened with what I’m sure was revulsion as my body jerked and jolted while silently purging the contents of my stomach.  I kept my hands steadfast over my mouth as the thick mass oozed between my fingers.  The scent of bile blended with the morning’s ration of stew mixed with the stench of the Dragos.  I was completely grossed out and could only imagine the state Jack was in. To his credit, other than the stiffening of every muscle he possessed, he showed no reaction as we waited for the Dragos to continue on their way.

It seemed like eternity before my lizard-like abductors were finally far enough away for Jack to feel comfortable taking us back to ground. By then, I was almost feverish from the ordeal. Both Jack and I were covered in vomit, although I’ll admit I took the brunt of it. If his sense of smell was as acute as his hearing abilities, I could only imagine what he was going through at that moment.

Of course L’oana was the first to vocalize the disgusting sight we made and how abhorrent my actions were.  She found my inability to control my bodily functions completely unacceptable and irresponsible on my part. She moaned and groaned about being unable to take a breath as the air was thick and tainted with Dragos stench and my vomit.

Jack silently slipped off his tunic and wiped the vomit off as best he could on the grass.  I had no intention of baring my body to the world to clean up and, quite frankly, the mess on me was beyond wiping off on the grass.

“There’s a creek not far from here,” Sergeant Org volunteered sympathetically while scowling at L’oana.

“Let’s go,” Jack muttered before grabbing my hand and pulling me along while he followed Sergeant Org’s lead.

Our detour to the creek took us off the intended path by at least two miles.  I felt badly about it.  I knew I was holding us up.  Earlier, Sergeant Org praised me for my hiking ability and mentioned we were making good time because of it. He estimated we’d reach our destination by nightfall with a sigh of relief.  Now, because of the delay, that might not happen.

I vowed silently to step up my game to make up for time.  Clearly my three companions were holding back their speed of travel for my benefit.  I was healthy, fit, and used to trekking through the woods.  I’d show them I could keep up with the best of them.

L’oana grumbled her annoyance with the course of events so often I wanted to tape her mouth shut.  Although Jack and Sergeant Org remained consistent with their orders for her to keep quiet, she paid them little mind and tortured me with her whining all the way to the creek. When we finally reached the much anticipated water source I rushed ahead of them. I could hardly stand myself and was eager to get clean.  They were considerate enough to turn their backs while I removed my disgusting apparel and walked out into the creek.  Since I’d been washing myself with a bowl and pitcher set up since I’d awoken in the cave, washing in the creek was not only frigidly invigorating, but a foreign action.  It took me some time to develop a technique that allowed me to clean my body the way it needed to be cleaned in the shin deep water, but I eventually managed.

Feeling fresh and refreshed, I stumbled over the sharp stones that littered the creek bed to its silken grassy edge.  As I pulled my tunic from the ground I frowned.  The vomit had been wiped away in the same manner that Jack had removed it from his own tunic.  Unfortunately, not only was there a far greater amount to remove, but it had been sitting on my tunic for a considerable length of time and some of it clung as a dried and crusted film.  I shuddered as I pulled the tunic over my head.  The leather leggings had come clean, so that at least was a relief.

When I was satisfied that I was properly covered, I told them they could turn around.  It’s debatable whose face looked more distressed when Jack and Sergeant Org saw the state of my tunic.

“You said you’d cleaned her clothes,” Sergeant Org growled at L’oana.

“Why was I expected to deal with that disgusting mess?” she whined.

“You’re a woman,” Jack said matter-of-factly.

“What does that mean?” I demanded. 

Nothing got my burs up more than a sexist person.

“We were trying to respect your feminine modesty, your highness,” Sergeant Org explained.  “L’oana is the closest thing to feminine we have to assist you.”

“What does that mean?”  L’oana screeched. 

“Get over it,” Sergeant Org snapped as he pulled his own tunic from his torso.  “I know it’s fresh from my body, but I have nothing else to offer you to wear while I properly remove the soil from your tunic.  Please accept this as a temporary solution.”

I was speechless as I literally accepted the shirt off his back.  With gallant courtesy, Jack and the bare chested Sergeant turned their backs to me while I slipped back out of my soiled tunic and pulled his enormous one over my head.  There was a familiar scent in the tunic that I couldn’t place.  It soothed my senses.  I’d smelled it before in my life, but I couldn’t say when.  It gave me a sense of security.

I giggled when I realized it came down almost to my ankles, “It’s a little big.”

“Ha, ha!” L’oana roared, “You look like a little kid.  Of course your lack of boobs doesn’t help.”

“L’oana!” Jack barked.  “You’re being warned for the last time.  One more word and I’ll drain every ounce of blood from your evil body.”

“You love my blood, don’t you Jack,” she cooed as she pulled her hair to expose her neck and lowered her tunic to bare her shoulder. “It’s orgasmic, is it not?”

Jack threw his hands in the air with disgust before grabbing my tunic and stomping over to the creek.  Sergeant Org protested that he’d planned on cleaning my tunic, but Jack just waived him back. Cupping the clear, free flowing water in his hand, he splashed and rubbed at the crust of vomit until there was no sign of it.  He spun it in the air so rapidly it was almost invisible to the eye.  When he finished, he returned it to me.  It was only barely damp and incredibly clean.

I accepted the tunic gratefully and rushed to replace the one I wore with my own. As I tied the belt I noticed that although my breasts were still small, they’d grown.  They were actually defined against the tunic instead of barely noticeable.  I slid my hand over one and cupped it.  Yes, it was definitely larger.  I thought of Jack’s comment about my body catching up with my age the longer I stayed on Kurr.  It was clear he was speaking truth.

Jack caught me cupping my breast and slowly shook his head.  He grabbed Sergeant Org’s tunic from me and handed it to him, “We’d better hurry.  She’s starting to blossom.”

Sergeant Org looked at me thoughtfully while donning his tunic, “Once it starts it’s quick, you know.”

“Let’s go,” Jack said firmly.

“Right,” Sergeant Org replied as he spun on his heel to lead us out.