Escape 1: Escape From Aliens Read Online Free PDF Page B

zipped closed the half full baggy, then pulled out the wound tape, bit off two pieces and repeated the X-pattern seal over the exhaust hole. Looking up he saw that the ceiling was now five feet above him.
    “Shit!”
    He kicked back to the Turn On water spout, reached down and put one hand against the water flow control. New water surged in. Time to make his final statement to the Alien who controlled his module.
    “Mr. Diligent Taskmaster of the species Hard Shell, you breathe through spiracle holes in the shell of your exoskeleton. That limits your breathing to what you can take in at any moment. Well, we Humans can suck in plenty of air and hold our breath before breathing again. Unlike most insects!” He looked up and gave a smile to the vidcam spyeye that lay somewhere in the ceiling. “But we cannot survive when the oxygen in the air gets too low. We hyperventilate. We get headaches. Then our heart stops working when there is no fresh oxygen to energize the cells of my heart muscle. So. You may have captured me with your fancy collector pod. Which zapped me with that red laser taser thingie. But now, you will have one less captive to sell at this Market world you are heading for! And since I prefer privacy while I die, I’m covering this cell’s ceiling with shit! Try to look through that , you mother fucker!”
    Moments later he finished smearing the second bag’s shit load across the ceiling. He’d not felt any vidcame bead. Which did not surprise him since on Earth vidcam motion-eyes were usually flat and the size of a lemon seed. Leastwise, that had been the size of the vidcam he and his platoon mates had worn on their BDUs during their last chute drop insert.
    With a sigh he kicked back to the center of the cell and waited for the water to go down to shin level. He might even remove the refuse hole blockage so the cell floor would be dry. Once more. Leaving him with his backpack, his flashlight, his canteen and his leather belt to confront the eventual arrival of an Alien crewman. Who had to come to remove the air inflow and exit blockages. Otherwise he would die. Moving to the right side of the door outline, he squatted, fed his belt strap into the buckle so it formed a loop-type garrote, and waited for the arrival of the Alien crewman.
    Bill had no idea what size or shape the Alien might possess, nor how many arms and eyes it might have. But the Taskmaster’s early statement that all captives breathed oxy-nitro air told him it was very likely both Diligent Taskmaster and his crew also breathed Earth-like air. Which meant the arriving Alien had to have some kind of mouth or nose to suck in air. Which location could be closed off. If you applied enough pressure. Asphyxiation would eventually shut off the Alien’s brain and make it pass out. He’d considered trying to kill the arriving Alien with one of the sewing needles taped to the pencil-type flashlight. But if it had a hard exoskeleton that would not work. However, every creature had to breath, even fishes. So he’d placed his bet. A second bet had been to assume any Alien critter would be right-handled, or right-clawed, like most humans. Being right-handed made a person most attentive to the front and right side, not the left. Which meant Bill had to be on the right side of the door as he viewed it. The handedness assumption was a guess, a gamble that he hoped would gain him an extra few seconds to attack the arriving Alien. Now, he would rest, breath slowly and wait until the atmosphere sensors in his cell told some living crewperson that the Earth captive module was becoming unlivable. Which meant some crewman would be sent to fix it. Likely with some kind of weapon to knock him senseless. Well, he’d been trained in ambush tactics. No doubt the Alien expected him to try an attack. But thanks to the shit-smeared ceiling it would not know just where in the cell he would be waiting. And placing his flashlight atop his backpack at the south end of