It swims away and then circles back, gliding past the spot where it initially stopped. I gulp as it continues forward.
“Okay, Avery,” I whisper to myself. “Now would be a good time to start moving.”
But my body doesn’t listen. My fight or flight instinct must be broken. Unless the textbooks got it wrong and it’s fight, flight, or stand there like a fucking moron. In that case, I’m doing just fine.
My pulse is racing and I start to hyperventilate as the first leg pops out of the water. It looks like one of those little legs that lobsters have on their sides, but only it’s the size of a telephone pole. Another one pops out, then another one, then the head.
My legs are weak and my chest is burning. I’ve never been so scared. Wet, cold, and scared. Not a fun combination.
The top of its head is covered in hard thick spikes and he has two white eyes that look as big as satellite dishes. And it’s mouth, oh, God, its mouth.
Let’s not focus on the mouth.
I don’t want to pass out and get eaten before the story starts really getting good so let’s just say that he has more teeth than the Kardashians have selfies.
Water pours off him in buckets as he lifts himself out of the river. His fin is sticking up on his head. It looked big in the water but now in perspective with his Godzilla-sized head, it looks like a toothpick.
I should run, really I should, but since the horrifying moment that I saw those dull white eyes, the thought never even crossed my terrified mind. I just stand there like a dope, waiting to get eaten. The only way I could make it any easier on him is if I pour BBQ sauce all over my head.
I cringe when I hear a booming war cry, but it’s not from the creature in front of me with the sweet tooth. It’s from the Super Smurf. He’s back and he looks pissed.
He explodes through the waterfall with a white knife clenched in his mouth. His loincloth sails up as he sails down. Yup. Definitely a male. And what a male!
He lands in the water with a gigantic splash and swims over in what looks like three strokes of his muscular arms. The creature in front of me turns back but the alien is too fast. He leaps onto the creature’s back and squeezes its disgusting head with his powerful thighs.
He takes the white knife out of his mouth and brings it down on the creature’s head, sliding it in between his horns. He does it again and again and finally, the creature’s chilling white eyes slide close and he goes limp.
The extra from the set of Avatar jumps down, washes the yellow blood off of his chest, rips off one of the scary legs from the dead creature, and walks over with his wet, dark blue hair plastered to his head. His muscles are shining from the water and jacked from the effort.
Okay. Judge all you want. He’s fucking hot.
“Thank you,” I say, unable to find any more suitable words. Not like it matters. I can say ‘banana chicken pie’ and he won’t know the difference.
I’m so hungry that a banana chicken pie actually sounds good right about now.
He just nods his massive head and walks past me, dragging the telephone pole-sized leg behind him. Yup. I’m going to stick with this blue Tarzan for a while.
I’m clearly not made for this planet and now I’m totally willing to show him my ta ta’s if he agrees to keep me alive.
He grunts something at me and then walks away into the forest. I don’t know what he said but I take it as an invitation and follow him past a thick tree with pink and orange leaves. The forest is so colorful with crazy hues of purple, pink, red, blue, and yellow. It looks like a paint store exploded in here.
I never realized how dull earth forests were with their boring greens and browns. Say what you want about this planet, but it gets an A plus for color.
I reach out to touch a gorgeous Caribbean blue flower the size of a dinner table but my alien guardian grabs my wrist just as I’m about to touch it.
“Ugatu,” he says, shaking his head. A whimper escapes my throat as he squeezes a little too hard with his vice-like fingers. He releases me at once and jerks his head back, looking horrified that he may have hurt me.
I cradle my burning wrist to my chest and glance at the flower.
“Ugatu,” he repeats, louder this time. He turns and keeps going with his shoulders tight and shaking his head, looking frustrated.
“Ugatu yourself,” I mumble as I follow him. I glance back over my shoulder at the flower and a creature that looks like a hairy spider with wings climbs out from between the petals.
“Ugatu, Avery, ugatu,” I whisper as a cold shiver snakes down my back. “Don’t touch anything.”