by Aaron Hodges
Chris sucked in a breath, his eyes devouring every inch of her naked body. Her breasts shone in the darkness. He cupped them in his hands and felt a tremor go through her. Her eyes narrowed to slits and groaning, she leaned down, pressing herself against him. Chris jumped as her teeth nipped lightly at his neck, a moan escaping him. Together they rolled across the soft pine needles, bodies and wings entwined.
The heat spread to Chris’s stomach as Liz’s hands continued to explore, making their way down his back, sliding beneath his pants. She grinned, pinching his backside, and Chris quickly followed suit, enjoying the smooth feel of her skin beneath his fingers.
He could see the lust in Liz’s eyes, a mirror of his own. Their lips came together again. Chris’s pants were unceremoniously tossed aside, then Liz’s. They pressed against one another, hip to hip, chest to chest, mouth to mouth. Their wings rustled and spread, wrapping them both in a blanket of feathers.
Panting, they separated for a second, taking the moment to regain their breath, to recover their sanity. Liz’s eyes were huge as she watched him, her pupils narrowed to tiny points. Her fingers trailed their way down his stomach, as his own hand drew circles on her hip. They kissed again, softly now, all their concentration on the exploring hands.
Chris heard Liz’s breath quicken as his hand drifted lower, finding the softness of her pubic hair. Then it was all he could do to breathe himself, as her hand found its way to him. A moan rumbled from his chest she grabbed him, and he pushed his own fingers further, felt her wetness.
He could feel Liz trembling, her body moving in concert with his own, encouraging him to greater heights. His other hand slid up her body, brushing across her nipples. Her breasts were soft, yielding beneath his touch. As he grasped them Liz gave another groan, her eyes turning feral.
“Oh, Chris…” she whispered, her breath hot in his ear.
Then she was atop him, her hand drawing him to her. Chris gasped as they came together, the last of his breath stolen away. But it didn’t matter, because Liz was moving against him, every thrust of her hips drawing him deeper. Sitting up, he kissed her breasts, his tongue circling, his teeth nibbling.
Amidst their passion, he realized their wings had spread, their movement sending quivers down their length. As quickly as it came, the thought was gone, consumed by a tide of ecstasy.
Growling, he grasped Liz by the waist and lifted her, flipping her to her back. Her arms wrapped tightly around him, her fingers curling in his hair, his feathers. A moan tore from Liz as he pressed down, their pursuers, their torments, their danger all forgotten now. Black hair hung across her face, but gently Chris brushed it aside, his lips finding hers again, stealing her breath.
A pressure built within Chris, growing with every thrust, with every gasp of the girl beneath him. Liz groaned again, her legs wrapping around him as she begged him to go faster. Pain shot from his shoulder as she bit him, hard now, but he no longer cared. With a cry she threw back her head and started to convulse, her hips still locked tight around him. Her movements shattered the dam within Chris, and he found himself gasping atop her, their cries echoing through the trees.
Finally, they both collapsed to the ground. Bodies entwined, arms wrapped around one another, they panted in the darkness. The shudders rippling through their bodies slowed, their breath returning. Opening his eyes, Chris found Liz watching him. A smile tugged at her lips as her arms tightened around him.
“Well, I’d say that was living.”
46
Darkness hung over the forest like a blanket, turning the pale trees to ghostly specters. The dense canopy stretched overhead, the thick leaves and branches hiding even the brilliance of the half-moon. Not a breath of wind stirred, and only the far-off hoot of an owl broke the heavy quiet.
Through the darkness came the soldiers—one, two, a dozen. They moved with measured steps, each taken with painstaking care, every man striving for silence. One misstep, one twig broken beneath a careless boot, and they would be exposed. But these men were professionals, and they did not make mistakes.
Captain Scott’s eyes scanned the shadows ahead, seeking out the first sign of their quarry. Through the green glow of his night-vision goggles, he watched his men fan out around him, rifles held at the ready. In the darkness they were indistinguishable from one another, but all were his brothers. Each was a veteran of a dozen campaigns, with tours in foreign states as far afield as Texas and Spain.
Earlier they had watched from their vantage point as their prey emerged from the mountains and entered the woods. With long-range infrared sensors, they had tracked the group’s progress through the trees, unwilling to act until the party stopped for the night and slept.
It had been a long wait, but ultimately their patience had been rewarded. Maps of the Sierra Nevada had suggested this was one of three valleys the group could have emerged from. Teams were stationed at the other two, but Scott had never doubted theirs would be the one. After all, God was on his side.
Aware of the enhanced nature of their prey, he had waited until well after midnight to order the final approach. His dossier suggested their prey’s heightened sense of smell and hearing might warn them of an enemy’s presence, but with the group asleep, he hoped that advantage would be neutralized.
Shouldering his rifle, the captain paused as the first glow of a sleeping body came into view. He raised a hand, signaling to his men. All movement ceased. Scott waved to his two lieutenants, and together the three of them continued forward. He kept the barrel of his gun trained on the sleeping figure as two more came into view. Each of his men were armed with M16 rifles loaded with 5.56mm caliber rounds. Their orders were to take the group captive—but lethal force had been authorized if necessary. Their orders came from the very top, and Scott had no intention of allowing embarrassment to fall on his superiors.
A few feet from the campsite, he hesitated, his eyes flickering around the clearing. Through the ghostly tree trunks, he studied the three sleeping figures, and silently cursed.
Where were the other two?
One of the bodies moved, shifting silently on a bed of pine needles. The glowing green blob was slightly apart from the other two, and sat slumped sideways against a tree. Scott smirked as he realized the boy had fallen asleep on watch. No soldier in his team would dare commit such a dereliction of duty.
Suddenly the figure straightened, sitting bolt upright against the tree. His head lifted, and Scott cursed as the boy looked at him.
“Go!” he screamed through his earpiece.
47
Chris jerked awake as a scream shattered the night’s silence. Struggling up, he bit back a cry as he found himself trapped in a tangle of feathers and limbs. Liz cursed as he tripped over her wing and almost landed on her, before finally getting his extended limbs under control.
Movement came from nearby as Liz joined him, her eyes wide. He reached out and caught her arm, and for a moment she stilled. The two of them peered through the darkness, searching for the source the commotion.
Bang.
They jumped as the gunshot sounded in the trees. Together, they spun towards the sound. Chris had lost all sense of direction, but he had no doubt if they followed the noise, they would find the others. He glanced at Liz. She nodded back, and they began to run.
Another boom came from ahead and Chris cursed under his breath. How had the hunters found them? There was no time to ponder the answer. Ahead, silhouettes slid between the trees, closing on their campsite.
Leaping over a fallen tree, Chris gritted his teeth and picked up the pace. Liz landed softly beside him, her wings partly extended, her lips drawn back in a snarl. Branches cracked beneath their feet, but Chris took no notice. The woods were alive with sound now, as bodies crashed through the undergrowth, converging ahead of them.
Chris saw a ring of men standing between the trees. Without thinking, he leapt towards them, but Liz’s hand flashed out and caught him by the wrist, pulling him back. He cursed, bu
t she silently grasped him by the waist and dragged him down behind a fallen tree. She raised a finger to his lips as Chris opened his mouth to argue, and the words died on his tongue.
Silence fell as they crouched in their hiding place. Chris struggled to control his breathing, to slow the wild beating of his heart. Slowly the stupidity of their mad rush trickled into his consciousness. From his brief glimpse, there were at least a dozen men in the forest. If the government had sent them, they weren’t messing around. Only the chaos of men closing on the campsite had kept them from being noticed.
He glanced at Liz and nodded his thanks, but her attention was on the campsite. Silently, Chris lifted his head and peered out from behind the fallen tree.
The circle of men stood twenty feet away. As he watched, several more moved from the trees to join them. In the darkness, Chris couldn’t tell whether they were soldiers, but the rifles they carried were all he needed to see. The men held them with a professional ease, several pointed out at the surrounding trees, while the others were kept trained on the prisoners crouched in the center of the circle.
Richard, Jasmine, and the girl knelt between soldiers, their hands held behind their heads, eyes fixed on the ground.
Chris cursed silently, wondering how the three had been taken unawares. Studying the soldiers, he bit his lip, his heart sinking. He realized now they wore goggles over their eyes, no doubt some form of night vision technology. There would be no taking them by surprise.
“What do we do?” he whispered to Liz.
“We have to save them,” she replied.
Chris glanced at her. “You think they’d do the same for us?”
Her eyes found him in the darkness, clear and resolute. “It doesn’t matter. Whether we like it or not, they’re all we’ve got now. We can’t leave them.”
Chris let out a long sigh and looked away. He clenched his fingers in the dirt, trying and failing to find an argument against Liz’s words. But he knew in his heart she was right. Friend or foe, the five of them were all that remained now of the hundreds who had suffered the horrors of the facility. For better or worse, they were bound by that experience.
“Please.” Chris looked up as Richard’s voice carried through the trees. “Please, don’t do this. Don’t make us go back.”
Most of the men ignored the desperate plea, but one stepped in close and slammed the butt of his rifle into Richard’s face. Richard reeled backwards from the blow, his arms windmilling as he crashed to the dirt. He recovered quickly, and roaring, leapt to his feet.
“Don’t.” The soldier’s tone was calm, as though he were disciplining a toddler. “Unless you want your friends’ lives on your conscience.”
Richard froze, his body taut, fists clenched at his side. A long moment passed, and the shadowy men edged closer to the prisoners, their guns raised. Finally Richard’s shoulders slumped, and he bowed his head in defeat.
“Excellent,” the man said, then waved at the circle of soldiers. “Pack ’em up, boys. The other two are still out there somewhere. There’s a good chance they’ll be back. I want these subjects secured before then.”
Several of the soldiers lowered their weapons and leapt to do the man’s bidding. Pulling flexicuffs from their belts, they stepped towards the captives, while the remaining soldiers covered them with their rifles.
“Now’s our chance,” Liz whispered.
Chris nodded, eyeing the space between them and the soldiers. Preoccupied with their prisoners, the men had taken their eyes from the surrounding trees. If Chris and Liz were quick, they could take them by surprise. Even with their goggles, the soldiers would be at a disadvantage in the darkness. In the confusion, Richard and the others might have a chance to slip free.
Silently, Chris gathered himself to attack.
Before either of them could move, a whisper of movement came from behind them, and a voice growled from the darkness.
“Don’t move.”
48
Captain Scott crossed his arms and watched as his men secured the prisoners. Covered by their comrades, two slung their rifles over their backs and stepped towards the boy. They grabbed him by both arms and forced them behind his back. The half-folded wings sprouting from the small of his back made the task difficult, and the boy himself wasn’t making things any easier.
“Please,” he begged as a third soldier stepped forward with the cuffs. “You don’t know what you’re doing, what they’ll do to us.”
Scott stared down at the boy, reading the terror in his eyes. The prisoner tried to flinch away as he approached, but his men held him tight. Smiling, he drove a fist into the prisoner’s face. The boy reeled back, and only the men holding his arms kept him from falling.
“Silence,” Scott growled. “By the law of our land, you should be dead already. You were offered mercy, offered a chance at redemption. But you threw it all away.” He raised his fist again, his anger catching light.
Before the blow could fall, a bloodcurdling howl echoed through the forest. Scott froze. He stared at the prisoner for another second, and then whirled to face the trees. The darkness remained absolute, but with their goggles, any approaching enemies would be easily detected.
There was nothing.
His men shifted nervously around him as they scanned their surroundings, weapons at the ready. Scott took a step towards the trees, unslinging his rifle as he moved. Beyond his circle of men, the forest was empty.
Shaking his head, he cast one last glance at the pitch-black trees, and then started to bark fresh orders to his men. Before he could finish, an audible thud came from behind him.
Then someone began to scream.
Scott spun, raising his rifle to fire, already cursing his decision not to execute the prisoners. Whatever their orders, he should have trusted his instincts. He had seen Chead in action, had glimpsed the aftermath of their slaughter inside the facility. However pathetic the three teenagers seemed, they were far too dangerous to hold captive.
But as he turned, he found the prisoners still on their knees. He hesitated, then making up his mind, he lifted his rifle and aimed it at the boy. Before he could fire, one of his men staggered into his line of sight. The soldier reached out a hand, fumbling at Scott’s vest, and then collapsed soundlessly to the ground.
As the man went down, another figure moved within the circle. Even in the strange glow of his night vision goggles, Scott knew it was not one of his men. It wasn’t even human.
He stumbled back as the Chead leapt, its feral growl rumbling through the darkness. Movement came from overhead, and then ethereal green figures were falling from the trees, landing amongst his men with catlike grace.
Chaos engulfed the night.
Gunfire roared to Scott’s right, snapping him from his shock. He lifted his rifle and fired a round at the silhouette stalking towards him, but it dove into the glowing mess of men and Chead, and his bullets found only dirt. Cursing, Scott spun, barking fresh orders as he searched for another target.
“Men, form up on me! They’re in the trees!”
His orders fell on deaf ears as his men descended into panic. Disordered, they stumbled away from the onslaught of superhuman creatures. The Chead darted amongst them like wolves in a henhouse, rending and tearing as they went. To his left, a soldier reeled back, a fountain of green sprouting from his chest, his high-pitched scream dying to a whisper.
Scott fired as the Chead leapt from the soldier’s lifeless body. The bullets shrieked, tearing through a nearby tree trunk, but the creature was already gone, its powerful legs sending it soaring. It landed on another of his men, its weight driving him to the ground. A sharp crack followed as the creature slammed the man’s skull into the earth.
A flash of gunfire lit Scott’s night vision, momentarily blinding him. Turning away, he shouted again over clamor, his fear rising.
“Men, on me, goddammit!” He hurled himself to the side as a body flew past where he’d been standing. It crashed to the ground a
few feet away and did not move.
Rolling across the pine needles, Scott regained his feet. All around him, green figures blundered between the trees, all semblance of order lost. In the chaos, the prisoners had vanished, either killed or fled, but he no longer cared. Survival was his only goal now.
Scott realized he’d drifted from his circle of men. He now found himself away amongst the trees, standing on the edge of the desperate battle between his men and the Chead.
Heart pounding, the captain gripped his rifle tight and weighed his options. Though the chatter of gunfire still sounded, from where he stood it was clear the battle was lost. The Chead were too fast, too powerful in close quarters, especially in the darkness. The second it took his men to distinguish between friend and foe was all the creatures needed.
No, this was a lost cause. His men were as good as dead.
Scott forced himself to turn away. Shame rose in his throat as he started to run, fleeing the chaos. The screams of dying men chased after him, rising up through the howls of the Chead, piercing him to his soul. A voice inside screamed for him to turn back, to stand alongside his men, to die a soldier’s death.
But his terror was greater still, and he raced through the darkness, desperate to escape the slaughter.
Scott paused as silence fell over the forest. He glanced back in the direction of the battle, suddenly uncertain. Had they succeeded after all? Had his men done the impossible, and fought off the Chead? But he heard no triumphant cries, no wild shouts. No sound at all, in fact.
Swallowing, he looked around. The forest was deathly still now. Not so much as the chirp of a cricket broke the silence. He shuddered, and then he was running again, a pure, unadulterated horror gripping him.
