Bones on Mars - A paranormal, sci-fi, fantasy romance

Awakening

An ocean surged through Floyd's dreams, something which wasn't only totally ridiculous, but downright impossible. There were no oceans on Mars, not anymore. There also shouldn't be this odd reek of woodsmoke, fish, moldy walls and—what? A hairy and dusty smell, as if an old pet was cuddled up next to him. He could almost feel its fur in his hands.

Actually, he did. A thick, woolly pelt tickled his palms.

There were no pelts in the hab.

He sneezed.

Some dream.

"Floyd?" A woman's voice, gentle but insistent. "Floyd wake up. I gave you as long as possible, but I dozed off twice already, and that's no good."

"Huh?"

He sat and blinked.

"Wakey, wakey."

He was lying on a heap of furs, with more fur piled on top. A fire was roaring away, roasting his front with life-giving warmth.

His back wasn't quite so warm, but still okay.

Next to him sat Leela, yawning and stretching. It all came back to him. The strange woman who called herself El. The sea, the cave, the odd noises and lights in the sky.

If this was a dream, it was bloody realistic.

Shit.

"Sorry."

"It's fine. You weren't doing too well before we, eh...left, so it was logical to let you sleep. Do you feel better?"

Did he? Floyd listened to his heartbeat, a reassuringly steady rhythm in his chest. His head was doing okay as well, there was neither pressure, nor pain.

"I'll live. You go to sleep." Reluctantly, he rose from his warm nest and held a pelt out for her.

Leela nodded and settled herself on the furs. "Wake me if something happens."

"Sure."

As if he would. Her tawny face was gray with fatigue, her eyes bloodshot. She should have woken him a lot earlier, not when the pearly light of an early dawn was already lightening the shadows that lurked in their shelter.

She huddled in the pelts and closed her eyes. Only seconds later, her breath slowed and her face relaxed.

She was beautiful, really, with her high cheekbones and long lashes. Her hair was silky, made to cascade over her shoulders not be cut short to accommodate bloody space helmets.

If she could read his thoughts, she'd probably bop him one.

Floyd rose to check for firewood. There wasn't much left. If they stayed another night in this place they would have to—what was that?

Did he hear a noise coming from the crawl tunnel?

He strained his ears.

Nothing. He must have imagined things.

Crchh.

The faintest of noises reached his ears, a gentle brushing and a crunch so soft, it almost wasn't there. He tiptoed back to the fire and grabbed Leela's spear with one hand and a sturdy branch with another.

Armed stone-age style, he then crept to the entrance of the crawl tunnel.

The rustling had faded. In its stead white noise crackled in his ears, though that could also have been the fire. It was making a bloody racket—.

A hand appeared in the opening. Hairy, strong fingers with broad, flat nails grabbed the edge and held on.

Someone grunted, and there was a shuffling as if something heavy was trying to push through.