Page 9 of Bonded Queen: to the Alien Warlord Triad

“Asking the wrong questions. Watch.” She grabs a matte black piece of metal from the crate, then holds it sideways, showing us that it has bullets in it. Then she slides it into her gun with a practiced movement, ejects it, and slides it in again.

“What bullets did I load the gun with?” she asks us both, but her eyes flit to me, waiting for my response.

“Red tipped.”

“Good eye.”

“Maybe I had a fifty-fifty chance.”

She snorts in disbelief. “Your turn, hotshot. Load the clip.”

It takes me a few tries, mostly because my hands are shaking. I’ll never be as smooth as Kat, but I get the clip into the gun while Summer is still fumbling. I need Kat’s help to eject it, and I curse myself for not watching carefully. Under her hawk gaze, I slide it back in and eject it myself.

I raise the rifle and Kat slaps it down. “Keep it down. Remember. It’s always loaded.”

“Fucking thing!” complains Summer. Kat gives me an expectant look, and I go to help her, making sure she has the movement down. It takes her a few tries, but she gets it, too.

“Yes!” she celebrates, when she manages to do it herself. She turns to Kat. “This thing will stop Scorp?”

“Good question. I’ll punch through their armor. But it won’t stop them outright. Not unless you get a lucky hit. With Scorp, you keep firing until they’re down, then you fire again.” She gets a far-off look. “They want one thing. To grab you and take you back to their Queen. You know what happens if they bring you to her?”

I want to throw up. “Yes,” I say, my voice breaking. It’ll be different trying to load and unload a weapon while those things are running towards me, their tails swaying and their claws clacking together. My heart starts pounding quicker, and the terror extends on either side of me, ready to swallow me up and make my hands shake so hard they’ll be useless.

I bite my lip, hard. The taste of blood and the pain pulls me back.

Kat gives us both a long, empty look. “Save a bullet in case they get close. Don’t think. Just use it on yourself.”

Tears stream down Summer’s face. “Hey, Summer, we’ve got a chance,” I say, trying to console her, not sure if I believe my own words.

I want to give her a big hug but I keep my rifle pointed to the ground. My arm’s already aching from holding it. It uses a completely different set of muscles than the ones I worked carrying silver trays laden with fruits from the kitchen.

Kat looks us both down. “A chance. That we do have. Alright. Here’s what we’ll do. Summer? You go to Paul’s tower. Grab as many rounds as you can—black tip—then come back for red tips. Use the black tips for target practice. Get in reps. They’ll count later. Rachel, you’re coming with me. We’re going to practice firing from Princess Bitch’s bedroom. The other girls will hear us shooting. Some of them will be brave enough to join us. The rest, I’ll put in the cellars, out of our way.”

“The cellars!” Summer gasps, hope in her voice. “It’ll be safer there, right?” She walks to the wall, but Kat grabs her before she can put her weapon back.

“You don’t want to go there. No one’s coming to save us. You go into the cellars, you’re never seeing the sun again. There’s two months of food left. I checked this morning. Then you get hungrier and hungrier, and you hear the Scorp skittering above…and if you make a sound…they’ll dig, and dig, and they’ll dig until they find you, and there’s nowhere to run.”

I swallow hard. Summer wipes her wet eyes, wincing in horror. “Fuck. Okay. As long as I hear you two shooting, I’ll know you’re alive. I… Shit, if we don’t get through this, Rachel, you were like a sister to me.”

“Don’t talk that way,” says Kat. “We’re going to get through this.”

Summer nods and starts grabbing ammo. She lifts the bottom of her white dress, filling it with the metal bullet holders, and balances the rifle over her shoulder as she leaves the cellar. Kat winces and ducks as the rifle points towards her, but refrains from admonishing Summer.

Neither Kat nor I speak as we haul a box of ammo up the spiral stairs to Brianna’s chambers. As soon as we’re inside, I wish the door wasn’t broken.

“It wouldn’t have helped,” says Kat, noticing my glance. “A Scorp is stronger than me with an axe.” She sets up at the window, propping her rifle up against the sill. “You ever find yourself against humans or Aurelians, you stay back from windows so they can’t get a clean shot. Doesn’t matter against Scorp. You can keep your gun poking out.”

She looks down the sights. My mouth is dry, but I have to ask. I have to ask if we’re really alone here. If there’s really no chance of rescue.

I don’t get a chance when thunder thumps. Kat’s firing out the window. My ears ring and I step back, shocked at the violence of the weapon, nearly dropping my own rifle.

A tree shatters under the round, a tree that’s grown for the nine years I worked on this damned planet. It falls with a thunderous crack. I open my mouth, and the question dies when I see the expression on her face.

She looks out the window, her jaw set, eyes sharp. “Shit. Someone’s coming.”

“Who is it?”

“Raiders. They’re coming for a last bit of fun. Set up. You’re going to get some live training.”

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