Two intense looking men with large swaying guns walked off of the ship in unison. The natives turned to them in sheer surprise, locking black eyes with the men before being brutally shot to the ground like pests in a cornfield. The natives further away from us scattered, but few made it into the tree line.

I clutched James' hand and looked at the ground where clusters of mangled bodies lay, speckled with gunshot wounds. A river of pink blood soaked my worn shoes. The two men stared at us with looks of pure excitement. They both wore heavy clothing, worn much like my shoes. There was a certain air about them, not one that I trusted.

"Perfect," the one on the right said. He was older than the boy on the left, who seemed to be only a teenager. The man on the right had dark eyes almost as dead as the natives sprawled beside us. He had grey hair and skin wrinkled like old leather. 

The boy on the left scowled at the older man, he seemed disgusted by the bodies but said nothing. His blonde hair danced in the wind. He seemed almost perfect, his skin untouched by freckles or blemishes. Just by the way he held himself so confidently I could tell that he didn't come from earth.

"Jacoy," the man said, referring to the boy, "bring our guests aboard why don't you?" James grabbed my arm hard and pushed me behind him. The man had a strange accent I didn't recognize, almost like a snake. 

"Who are you?" James growled. I held his arm and touched the soft fur of his jacket, convinced that something bad was about to happen.

"Bounty hunters, of course," said the boy- Jacoy. He slung his gun over his shoulder and pulled a sharp knife from a sheath in his belt. It sparkled in the sunlight, reflecting in his wicked blue eyes. "Don't worry," he seemed to smile at me, "we'll be nice."

"We're not going anywhere," James muttered loudly, pushing us both back. The blonde boy didn't look surprised, he twirled the knife in delicate hands a few times and threw it right at my head. Before I even had time to react, it buzzed right by my head. The knife had only missed me by a few millimeters.  

I gasped as a large lock of hair fell to the ground, staring at the fallen lock of curls shimmering in the sun. "How dare you?" I exclaimed. I pulled my own knife out and ran at him with force, just as I was about to hit him he swerved and grabbed my waist. I was frozen mid-stride, my hands pinned behind my back.

"Relax honey," he purred, "your man's sister sent us." Jacoy let me go and I turned to face him with anger in my eyes.

"You cut my hair!" 

"It's pretty gross," he laughed sadistically. James ran up to my side and pulled me away. We stared at the two men, and the older one gestured for us to come aboard. I looked to James, wondering what he'd thought of the whole situation.

He looked back at all the dead crabs, old ones and children among them. James nodded quickly, following as Jacoy led us up the metal stairs. 

The interior of the ship was very posh compared to the men's outward appearances. There was new metal flooring and white cabinetry hiding much of the electrical wires. The older man led us to some chairs and sat us down, standing before us to talk and strapping seatbelts to our waists. 

He had a very authoritative tone, as if he were accustomed to bossing people around. "My name is Drable," he spoke in a deep voice. "There are many people looking for you, and I think that if I hold you hostage, I can get more money than your sister originally offered." 

I gasped, realizing that Jacoy hadn't tied us in with seatbelts, but instead a wire that tightened the more you moved. James struggled until the wire was almost cutting off his air, "Stop, it will only get tighter," I whispered. He went limp and looked at me with an expression that seemed a lot like defeat. 

"You trusted the wrong men," Drable smiled.