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06 June 2016 @ 06:44 am
_Aliens and Shifters_ part 10  

She left the road and climbed a farmer's fence. Better move cross country, for a little while. She stayed mostly in the open, climbing fences and ditches. She tried to run, or at least trot a bit, but she was unbelievably tired. How long had it been since she'd slept? What day was this?

As the sun sank beneath the horizon, movement caught her eye. Up in the sky. Well, surely she was as invisible to a pilot as she was to a man on the ground. But that wasn't a plane. Long wings swept through the air, skin over long bones. The Bat? What had happened? What had gone wrong?

_Visible_ She ran up on a low hill and waved to attract his attention.

The wings folded and he swooped down toward her, skimming the ground. His neck was longer than she remembered, and the tail. She started backing away. This wasn't a bat of any sort. She crossed her wrists and the dragon pounced. Knocked her flat and pinned her to the ground with its weight. For a moment she thought she was going to be eaten, but the scaly red body changed. Crackled, shrunk, but weighed heavier on her, as the weight all concentrated into a man sized shape. A large one.

"Mark?" she croaked.

"Dat's right." he didn't show any inclination to get off of her, There was something wrong with his eyes, a glazed beastal shine, as if the dragon was looking out of the man's eyes. "Now I'm really getting' shagged out of yer escapin'. I fink dis time I'll keep yer."

"What?" His accent was thicker than he'd used even with von Gruenewald. She tried to squirm out from under him. His eyes were shining in the dark, wolfish, or should she say draconish? He was quite naked, and definitely, err, male.

"I've 'eard South America is nice dis time of year. And I 'appen to 'ave a rather large bank account in Argentina." He kissed her, then shifted off her enough to pull both her hands up over her head, where he could hold them in one hand. His free hand slid down her body, back up, under her sweater to cup a breast. "Come wiv me. I can smell yer, I know yer're one of us." His eyes gleamed, shifted to the their usual warm brown, then started gleaming again.

Her stomach clenched in fear, and she could hear herself pant against his naked chest. "I'm not, I'm not one of you, whatever you are." She heard the fear in her voice, and tried to pull away. He was much stronger than she was. Still had most of his weight on her, as his free hand slipped back down to fumble at her pants. "Mark. Stop. Right now. Stop. Don't do this." She could taste the tears running down her face, as he tugged at her pants. He had to remove his weight to remove her pants and she heaved, trying to get enough freedom to kick, trying to kick anyway and tangling now in her loose pants, she jerked her head away and back, but missed his nose or, or anything she could hit. He kept her arms pinned above her head with no effort at all.

He dodged an attempt to bite his face, anywhere, met it with his own teeth clashing against hers as he forced her head still against the ground, she tried kicking, but his legs were tangled with hers.

Then he froze.

He lay there on her for a long moment. His eyes slowly switched to brown and remained human, this time.

He sighed finally. "If there was any way I could 'ave lowered meself further, in your eyes, I suppose that was it." He got off her and pulled her to her feet. She grabbed the pants sagging around her ankles and pulled them up one handed. He wasn't letting go of her. "We've got a long way to fly tonight." He looked around and nodded. "I better nosh-up before we go. Don't run. I can find you."

And then he changed. A crackling sound, like a fire, or breaking bones. He was taking deep breaths, huge breaths, as if he were blowing himself up like a balloon, for he was growing, and with a pained gasp, wings fought free from under the skin of his back and peeled away from the back of his arms, and lengthened. His bulky muscles lengthened to whip cord, looking immensely strong, like the wires of a suspension bridge. He looked down at her, and it was with a beast's hunger, not a mans. The jaws quivered above her. Then he shoved her away from him and leaped into the air. The dragon sailed across the pasture, and stooped like a hawk on the cattle grazing there. Four stampeded away, but he'd brought one down and she saw a flash teeth and the spurt of blood, before she turned and ran for the nearest and thickest trees she could see.


Puffy clouds obscured the night sky, off and on, and the Moon wasn't up yet. She slowed down and tried to go quietly, and kept an eye on the sky, watching for Mark-the-dragon, and also for direction. A brief glimpse of the Big Dipper showed that she was still heading more or less west. Good. Of course Mark would expect that. Maybe she should angle south. If Erob could track her it wouldn't matter anyway.

She heard the vehicle, and then voices. Orders. Soldiers. She veered to the north-west, or what she thought was the north-west, and wondered if she should climb a tree. Did the soldiers know Mark was a dragon? She looked that thought over and decided she really, really, needed a whole lot of sleep. "Hallucinating, because of a lack of sleep. I like the idea." She slunk further away from the soldiers. Or should she? What could she do while she was invisible? She spotted the rutted lane and reluctantly left the trees for a field and trotted down to it. She moved cautiously until she saw the truck. The driver was still sitting in it, and an officer of some sort was leaning on the fence watching the woods.

The officer stood up suddenly, looking up. In the dark the dragon was nearly invisible. But the officer could see it and so could she, as it cruised westward, low and slow. Searching. She shivered. Could a dragon see her despite the light pass? She crouched down half under the truck. What would Mark do if he caught her again. What was he?

The officer whistled to his men and they crunched through the forest and climbed in the truck. The back of the truck was canvas covered, and she finally, reluctantly climbed up on the bonnet, and then stood facing forward, leaning on the wind screen and top. She didn't dare sit on the thin metal. She wrapped her legs and feet, and stood where the distortion of the light pass wouldn't be directly in front of the driver. The officer swung up beside the driver and snapped orders. Uma picked 'westen' out of the rest of it and hung on to the edges of the windscreen as the truck backed out of the narrow lane, and turned west on a better road. The officer had his head out the window, scanning the sky. They were hunting the dragon. Or maybe assisting him.

They rattled along for three hours, Uma clinging grimly to the top edge of the windscreen. The Moon rose behind them, but the clouds kept obscuring it. She thought she spotted the dragon twice, but after a long stretch of empty skies, the officer had the driver stop on a barren hill with a good view all around. Uma wiggled and stretched as the soldiers climbed down, then tried to stand quietly and not shake the truck and alert the driver.

The officer scanned the sky carefully, but it was empty. He placed his ///head gear for officers other than those helmets?/// back on his head. Then a crackling and movement along a brushy creek at the bottom of the hill that caught his attention. He swept his cap off again to see better and the generous sweep of his hand hit Uma. Caught by surprise, she slipped, and scrambled to get out of the way. The officer lunged and grabbed her foot and pulled. Completely over balanced, she crashed and fell in front of the truck. Gripping her foot and twisting it painfully, the officer reached down blindly and grabbed a handful of sweater and breast and hauled her up. She kept her scream of pain down to a shrill inhalation, then grunted as the officer slammed her back down and his knee hit her midriff. The next few minutes, she concentrated on trying to breath, while she was turned over and her hands pinned behind her. She turned her face enough to get it out of the dirt and saw what burst out of the brush and ran up the hill. Mark again, still naked, but this time running all hunched over – no, he was running awkwardly on hands and feet, bare butt up in the air. Behind him, Sir Trent did the same.

She figured it out just about the time the growling Mark-dog leaped at the officer and fastened his teeth into his shoulder. What little breath she had was squeezed out again as they rolled over her, then she scrambled out of the way and yanked her collar up over her head, and covered her hands as the soldiers pelted up to the truck. The other man-dog snarled and attacked the nearest soldier. She got up and limped down the road as fast as she could manage, between her twisted foot, abused diaphragm and incredulous laugher. Why the dogs had attacked the soldiers, she had no idea - unless her Father's little machines had something to do with it. The screams and yells and snarling died behind her, and scabbling hands and feet galloped up behind her. She turned cautiously and eyed the creatures. The Sir Trent-dog made her grin, but the naked Mark-dog was disturbing. They were wagging their tailess rear ends though. "Good dogs, err, Gut hunds. Umm, Sitzen." They sat awkwardly. "Poor puppies. I don't know if I can do anything for you." She cast a glance behind, but the truck wasn't moving. She crossed her wrists. _Normal_ _Dogs back to normal_ what other commands might work? _Return to natural state_ was all she could think of. And she had no idea how long it might take. She turned back down the road, "Kommen, hunds," and walked onward. The front couldn't be more than another twenty miles of so. She tried not to whimper at the thought.

Chapter Twelve

"Really. An actual dragon?" Erob frowned. "Do American's do that too? I lived with them for over ten years, and I never saw any such thing. Although," he added, "There were plenty of stories about men who changed into wolves."

"Oh yes, werewolves are much more common. Von Gruenewald's one, runs in the family. Mark's his half brother, did you know that? Mark's mother is British, we've some strong dragon lines there. That's why his father bred him."

"Bred him? Like livestock?" Erob turned the truck and dropped downward.

"Very much so. The German's are big on bloodlines, and nobility. He - Mark's father – wouldn't _marry_ a commoner, but he wanted a dragon bloodline." He looked down at a scruffy thicket of half grown trees. "I don't see her, but there are two animals of some sort . . . "

"Oh, she's right there." Erob pointed, and dropped the truck to the ground.

"What are those . . . " Sir Trent broke off at the sight of the naked men walking on all fours.

Erob grinned at his expression. "I see Uma found the two dogs I changed to look like you two and left in your place to face the firing squad." He triggered the back door.

Uma faded into sight, stumbling wearily up to the truck. Sir Trent hopped out gallantly and boosted her in. He looked dubiously at the 'dogs', but they jumped in without assistance.

"Can we go home now?" Uma asked. "I think I need to sleep for about thirty-six hours. Except I know I'll have nightmares. And I really, really need a shower."

Erob closed the door as soon as Sir Trent was in and they lifted off again.

"Do one of those one hour naps, like I showed you," her father recommended. "We're going to try and find the new guns."

Uma nodded, "Guess we have to, although I'll bet they're rusting to bits. No, I don't really want to sleep until we're safe out of this mess. Keep your eyes open for Mark, he's going to be angry."

"I hope you realize that the pair of you are perpetuating the myth that Alien Space Creatures will look just like humans, except that your women will be even more beautiful than Earthlings." He eyed Uma thoughtfully. "Although I must say you look a bit green, at the moment.

Uma looked at her hands and gave a half hysterical laugh. Erob glanced worriedly at her. She shook her head reassuringly at him, "I tried to turn off the dogs' little machines. I think I must have turned mine off instead. Can you help those poor beasties, they're horribly confused." She sank down on the floor and leaned on the wall.

ekuah on June 6th, 2016 01:13 pm (UTC)
Would the correct German commands for the dogs be acceptable?
matapampamuphoff on June 6th, 2016 06:15 pm (UTC)
She doesn't speak German, so no, I doubt she'd know the correct commands for a trained dog. Sir Trent might, though, not that it comes up in the story.
ekuah on June 6th, 2016 08:29 pm (UTC)
'She doesn't speak German, so no, I doubt she'd know the correct commands for a trained dog.'
I know that and I think I have paraphrased it wrong.
Right now, it sounds like right out of a dictionary.
The cases you used, are not used in normal speech.
I wanted to provide you phrases that she could have heard somewhere.
I mean, where else she could have learned the words?

"Gut hunds. Umm, Sitzen."
100% Correct: "Gute Hunde, Sitz"
What she could have used (not correct):"Gut hund, sitz"

"Kommen, hunds,"
100% Correct: "Kommt, Hunde" or "Bei Fuß" (aka 'heel')
What she could have used (not correct):"Komm, Hund"

Edited at 2016-06-06 08:34 pm (UTC)