because she was hurt and female he might not have
fastened them tightly enough. Either way he guessed he’d been too
trusting. But now wasn’t the time to beat himself up about it.
She didn’t know
how to use a gun he guessed, for which he was truly grateful. She
clearly knew what it was and was holding it loosely in one hand,
while she waved it around like a pointer to express her obvious
anger and fear at him. But the safety catch was still on and her
finger - make that claw - wasn’t on the trigger. But in the other
hand she held one of the mechanical devices he’d removed from her
belt. A grey mechanical thing that looked most like a tiny
transistor radio. But it could also be a weapon, a ray gun of some
sort. Or a travel clock. He had no way of knowing.
In time she ran
out of words and he managed a quick smile at her, teeth definitely
not showing. Many animals he remembered would find exposed teeth
threatening. But then he wasn’t even sure she would understand a
smile.
“Ahh, do you
speak English?” He felt silly for asking, especially after having
listened to her telling him off in an alien tongue, but then the
previous day he had heard her asking for his help. There was at
least one English word she knew.
The answer was
not what he wanted, as she babbled even more angrily at him, and
the gun waving became more alarming. He gathered that the answer
was a definite no and decided not to say anything else for a while,
perhaps a long while.
Quite quickly
though he realized that no matter what else happened he would have
to act. As time passed she was becoming distinctly more wild, eyes
bulging and fangs gleaming, and he had the horrible feeling she was
simply working herself up into a killing rage. If by chance she
ever found the safety or if the transistor was actually a weapon,
he was in a lot of trouble. And without speaking her language he
couldn’t calm her down.
“Ohh thank
God!” He spoke to no one, just sighed and let his eyes wander to
the door behind her. A simple and ancient ruse but in this case
enough. She spun, far too quickly and was immediately off balance
while also having made the cardinal mistake of no longer having her
eyes on him. That was far more slack than he needed. Before she’d
even completed the turn he had risen and chopped at her left arm
just below the shoulder. In a man the chop would stun the arm
causing the weapon to drop, and it did the same for her, the gun
hitting the wooden floor with an almighty racket. They weren’t
entirely dissimilar.
But she was
fast, flexible and unexpected. Instead of turning back and firing
the other weapon which he was already dodging, she completed her
spin, and he had just time to see one set of her glass claws coming
at him and flinch before he felt them rake across his chest.
Fortunately he was quick too, even when caught by surprise, and he
managed to get out of the way. His shirt was ruined, but his skin
was barely scratched. Fast as she was, he knew she had overplayed
her hand, as with only one arm in action she couldn’t defend
herself. A second chop to the other shoulder left her with no
working arms and the second device slid across the floor a
heartbeat later.
She howled,
more out of anger than fear, and tried to kick him, but her feet
were nowhere near as fast as the rest of her, and he easily eluded
them and then tripped her. She fell backwards onto the floor, still
howling, and immediately he leapt on top of her, trying to tie her
down with his body weight. As a tactic it left a lot to be desired,
but at least it gave him a few moments to work out what to do next.
All the while she struggled, life quickly returning to her arms,
and he had to spend valuable seconds just flicking the various
devices away so she couldn’t reach them.
Soon there were
no more weapons, other than their own bodies, and he could relax a
little. Physically, he knew he was outgunned by her claws and her
speed. If