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Area 51
2.2 Hunting for Survivors

2.2 Hunting for Survivors

As I continue down the halls towards the bunk rooms the lights begin to flicker.

...

On, off, on.

...

No, wait a moment, that isn’t flickering, it’s too rhythmic and the backup power wouldn’t fail so soon.

It must be Morse code!

Ah, shit, I forgot how to translate Morse code.

The lights continue to flicker steadily like a strobe light.

Off and on.

At least I know there is at least one survivor somewhere on this floor.

Now I may not know what they are trying to say but the intent seems clear,

‘If there is anyone out there, help me, I’m here somewhere.’

There is only one place that someone could send a signal via the lights from, This floors sub-generator.

Luckily I am not too far away from there.

Once again I am rerouted.

The sub generator is in the opposite direction as I was going. So I turn back and head in the direction I came from.

“Ahos grit daa hoshos.”

“Cadagrit As hoshos grithahafora.”

Suddenly I hear two, very alien sounding voices and footsteps approaching from a perpendicular hallway ahead of me.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

‘Shit. I can’t catch a break’

It was stupid of me to don the hazard suit so soon.

I can’t run in this suit, I sure as hell can't hide, and fightings going to be difficult, additionally I am probably not going to be able to take down two aliens with just a pair of scissors.

I need to think.

There is no way to escape.

Fuck it. If I’m going to die, I’m going to die fighting.

The two aliens turn the corner and come into sight.

One of them is injured and is holding a wound on its upper torso. The wound is oozing syrup-like bright red blood. The other alien has a heavy limp, it’s leg is twisted in a way that looks wrong even on an alien.

They both have four arms ending in thick stubby fingers. Each stands at a height of around seven feet tall. Much of their height is from their long sinuous necks which end with an avian looking head with large black eyes and a narrow bone white beak. The intimidation factor is somewhat negated by the bright yellow feathers that they are covered in from head to toe.

“Hadaaha!”

The bleeding bird alien speaks, sounding halfway between a cherp and wheeze.

It seems that they can breath in this atmosphere, but not very well.

Even though they are weakened I shouldn’t underestimate them.

I grab my improvised weapons and charge at the injured one.

Training dictates that when you are in a two vs one scenario you should strike first, and aim for the weakest opponent first.

Instead of trying to punch me as I anticipated, the bleeding one charges right at me and tackles me to the floor.

The two of us grapple on the floor. I can feel that I have an advantage in strength and weight, but It’s four arms reduce all of my leverage.

As I am caught in a vice grip, It begins hammering my head like a woodpecker. The rapid blows fail to break the glass of my hazard suit, but do disorientate me.

If I was unarmed this would have been the end of me, it’s beak would penetrate the glass eventually, and the second alien would join in.

But the bleeding alien made one massive error.

In a fight, you never try to grapple with someone who has a knife, or in this case a pair of blades from a scissor.

The blades edge may be dull but the points certainly are not.

I struggle and flail, eventually I manage to stab it at the base of it’s lower left arm.

The wound shocks the alien, it momentary stops pecking and it’s grip briefly loosens.

Which gives me the chance to escape it’s hold.

I capitalize on this by wildly stabbing it as many times as I can all over it’s torso. I must have hit an artery or something because it starts to spray thick blood all over my

suit.

The exchange lasted less than a minute, but it feels like forever, I catch my breath for a moment.

Suddenly the second alien jumps on top of my back.

Now it was my turn to make a mistake, always be aware of your opponents.

Now I am really screwed.

This is the worst position to be in a fight.

I can’t defend, and attacking is difficult.

“As’ gritfora grit hosha daa daamitasfora did!”

The alien begins to rant. Probably something along the lines of, ‘I’m going to kill you for killing my friend.’.

Talking to your enemy is another thing you don’t do when fighting, especially before you are going to kill them.

The alien’s ranting gives me a moment to think.

...

A sliver of an idea crystallizes in my mind.

‘Aim for the weak point.’

I manage to twist my body barely just enough that I am able to launch a weak kick into the aliens leg.

“Daaa”

Weak kick or not, my gamble pays off, the attack aggravates a preexisting injury and causes the alien to chirp in what I assume is pain.

The aliens grip loosens and giving me the chance to score a lucky hit, right at the base of the neck.

The alien rag dolls, I must of severed it’s spinal cord or whatever it’s equivalent is.

I turn around and push the corpse off of me.

I am bruised, battered, tired and covered in sticky alien blood, but otherwise alright.