The glow of the tendrils grew subtly brighter, the droning intonations of the natives louder, and Rosemary’s head lolled to the side, her eyes fluttering closed.
“Miss Wells!” The captain exclaimed, leaping forward as if to lay hold of the inhuman host that now had the young medic in some kind of grasp. But she lifted her red-rimmed eyes to Carter’s and shook her head slightly to stop him.
“It doesn’t hurt,” She insisted.
“What does it want?” Lamont asked, holding up his recorder.
“I don’t know yet,” Rosemary admitted. “But I think she wants to help.”
The eerie chanting rose and fell from the misshapen mouths of the human-like natives in the shadows of the cavern, echoing from the stone crooks and columns as if, Lamont found himself thinking, this were a natural cathedral. Meanwhile, another set of tendrils had emerged from the body of the centipidal alien and weaved with slow grace around its small torso until they touched the wound that had taken his life. Rosemary started to rise to her feet, but as she did so, the tendrils shifted color from a filmy white to a subtle, glowing pink. Rosemary gasped and fell to her knees once more.
“What are you doing to her?” Captain Carter demanded, stepping closer.
“It’s alright,” Rosemary assured him in a weak voice.
“Be careful, Francis,” Lamont warned him. Still participating in the drones and clicks of the chant, some of the men among the natives were reaching for their primitive weapons, eyes locked warily on the captain. Carter raised his hands and stood still, his long jaw working with conflicted emotions.
The glow of the tendrils grew subtly brighter, the droning intonations of the natives louder, and Rosemary’s head lolled to the side, her eyes fluttering closed. Then, suddenly, there was a spasm in the miniature body of the slain native. A profound silence fell over the cave, and a moment later the stillness was shattered by the sputtering gasps and coughs of the native as he inhaled deeply and rolled over on his side, revealing a wound that was still ugly, but clearly closed.
“The devil!” Carter cursed.
“I don’t believe it,” Lamont whispered.
Silently, the tendrils receded back into the complex folds of the alien’s underside, the pink glow fading. The resurrected native looked around in panic, taking in the presence of the alien creature and the kneeling woman nearby, and quickly scrambled to join his fellows in the shadows. Now, they did nothing to stop Francis from rushing to the young woman’s side.
“Miss Wells, are you hurt?” The captain asked.
Rosemary looked up at him languidly, dreamily. “No, sir. I just need a moment.”
“What the devil just happened?” Carter asked, wrapping his long arm around her to help her up.
“She—she connected us. I saw—I felt—I’m still processing it, captain. But she borrowed my life to return his.” Rosemary nodded weakly toward the native, who was now joining the others to prostrate himself in front of the alien creature.
Carter turned his eyes to the creature, who was slowly receding back toward the tunnel that led down to her home. “Thank you,” he said, earnestly.
The comb-like organ in the partially-raised middle section of the creature hummed and vibrated for a few seconds until it finally formed a steady droning sound. And from that drone emerged a distinct, weird and halting vocalization:
“A-A-A-LL GO-O-O…”
Next: Carter’s Bargain
I do believe that is godroachian for GTFO