Page 36 of Grumpy Alien Bodyguard

"Fourteen... thirteen..."

I slip off my shoes, clutching one in my hand. Not much of a weapon, but better than nothing. The heel is metal-tipped and pointed.

"Twelve... eleven..."

My thoughts aren't on my own survival. They're on Varnok. Where is he? Is he alive? The connection I felt earlier—I reach for it now, desperate for any sense of him.

There. Faint but present. Determination. Pain. He's alive.

"Ten... nine..."

I move again, keeping low, following the curve of the path toward what I hope is the main exit. If I can reach the security station?—

"Eight... seven..."

The counting is closer now. He's tracking me, taking his time. Playing with his food.

I spot a maintenance door half-hidden behind a trellis of climbing vines. I dart toward it, yank it open, and slip inside.

It's dark. The air smells of soil and fertilizer. I feel my way forward, bumping into shelves of gardening supplies.

"Six... five..."

His voice is muffled through the door, but still audible. Still coming.

My hand closes around something solid—a garden trowel. I grip it tightly, backing deeper into the shed.

"Four... three..."

The maintenance door creaks open. Light spills in, silhouetting the massive Vakutan.

"Two... one..." He chuckles. "Ready or not, here I come."

I raise the trowel, heart hammering in my chest. But all I can think is: Varnok, please be alive. Please find me.

The Vakutan steps into the shed, his eyes gleaming in the darkness.

"There you are," he says. "Now the fun begins."

A blur of red scales crashes into the shed, slamming the assassin against a wall of gardening supplies. Tools clatter to the ground as Var and the black-scaled Vakutan collide in a tangle of limbs and snarls.

"Quinn! Run!" Var shouts, his massive fist connecting with the assassin's jaw.

But I can't move. My eyes lock on the dark stain spreading across Var's abdomen. Blood—his blood—soaking through his clothing. The wound is deep, and he's already lost too much.

"You're hurt," I whisper, though neither Vakutan can hear me over their combat.

They fight like titans, smashing through shelves and equipment. The black-scaled assassin moves with predatory grace, while Var's movements are powerful but sluggish. He's injured, weakening with each passing second.

The assassin notices too. His reptilian eyes narrow, calculating, and he begins targeting Var's wound with vicious precision. Each blow to Var's abdomen makes him roar in pain, makes me flinch as if I can feel it too.

"Not so mighty now, Annihilator," the assassin taunts, driving a knee into Var's wound.

Var doubles over, purple eyes clouding with pain. Blood drips onto the floor, forming a small pool at his feet.

Something inside me snaps.

I scramble across the floor, grabbing the first substantial tool I can find—a three-pronged cultivator with a long metal handle. It's heavy in my hands, but anger makes me strong.

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