Threshold Volume 2

by Shelby Morgen

  Never had her seen the like. This is what Gethla was striving so hard to protect? These…mutated bugs? But a low sob drew his attention from the sight of the bug stampede to the woman behind him. “Gethla?”

  “It’s gone. They are all gone! My people will starve! We are lost.”

  And despite the fact that she was crying over things that needed the world’s largest roach motel, Gray felt a strange urge to hold her in his arms and offer her what comfort he could.

  Chapter Eight

  Gray looked around at the ruined campsite and shook his head, feeling sorry for himself. His clothes were gone. His last link to his real life was nowhere to be seen, and he had never felt so lost.

  He looked over at Gethla, noting the slumped shoulders and the dispassionate gaze as she glanced from the ruins of her camp to the wide swath of destruction the retreating Chroan left in their wake. He didn’t know who he felt the sorriest for.

  “Can’t we…get them back?” he asked, turning to look at the beast that had carried them on their hunt, the only Chroan left in the area. The large pink and white thing was not too bad to look at, he decided. It stood placidly as it kept beady eyes on its mistress, as if it felt her depression as well.

  “Get them back? Gray, the Chroan will be of no use to anyone now. Most will be killed in the stampede and the rest will scatter as their instinct tells them. It is hopeless.”

  “Did the rustlers get any of them?”

  “No. If they can’t have them, they destroy so that no one will benefit.”

  “Okay. This is beyond weird. They rustle bugs and are maniacal enough to destroy what they can’t have, and there is no law. What kind of place is this?”

  “This is my home.”

  Her calm answer took some of the fire out of his anger, and he stared at her, one question in his mind. “What is this place?”

  “I told you, we are at the magical and mysterious lake, Gray. It is one of Earth’s great remaining mysteries.”

  “Earth?”

  “The name of our planet.”

  “This can’t be Earth!” Gray suddenly felt off kilter, like his world had been shifted off its axis and he was falling. “This isn’t Earth. Earth is where I live, it is where people choose to have children if they so desire, and almost everyone can do it at will. Earth is where people don’t stampede bugs big enough to saddle up and go for a ride. On Earth, we stomp on the bugs. Earth is where I was last night. This is not Earth!”

  “It is.”

  “Is not!”

  “It is.”

  “It’s the twenty-first century, Gethla. We have a president who keeps failing, but goodness knows he keeps trying. We have our share of problems and crimes, but we do not have bug rustlers who stampede six foot excuses for pesticides!”

  “It is two hundred years after the disaster, we have several villages and settlements, only those who possess the jewels are capable of reproduction, and what is a president?”

  Gray stared at Gethla in amazement before he stuttered out, “Disaster?”

  “When the skies burned and the great cold came. When the survivors had to go underground to survive the cold and the ash. When the skies cleared and the air was slightly pure, the only things that survived were the Chroan and a few plants. It has been told that we struggled for years after coming out from the under, but a few remembered the old ways and we started over. This is Earth, Gray. And I believe the mysteries in the lake brought you here for a reason.”

  Gray shuddered as he stared around him in horror. The only thing that came to mind was that old ape movie with Charlton Heston. “Those idiots! They really blew it up.”

  Then there was the startling realization that he had to have gone forward in time. There was no other explanation for this. The facts were standing in front of him. Gethla, with her pink hair and her yellow eyes that glistened with tears she tried to be too strong to shed. The dry, arid land, the huge bugs that they all seemed to rely on so much, the stark severity of their lives.

  He had gone forward in time, and there seemed to be no way to get home. But he shook off that problem for now, pushed it into the back of his mind. If he were forced to dwell on it, he would go mad. Already, there was this tiny voice in the back of his mind that was shrieking and screaming that this was impossible.

  If he paid too much attention to that that voice, he knew that what mental sanity he had left would snap and he would be lost in the void of fear and confusion. So he turned his attention to problems he could handle, easy things, things that would improve their immediate situation.

  “We have to make a plan,” he began. “We have to do what we can to help, and then these mystical people of yours can help me.”

  “You would do that, Gray?” Gethla turned amazed eyes to the man she had fished out of the lake, the man that seemed so strange to her, and wondered what he wanted.

  “I would do that, and then you can do something for me.”

  She’d known there would be a catch. “What?”

  “You can help me get back home.”

  Chapter Nine

  “The legs on the bug go round and round, round and round, round and round,” Gray sang, his deep baritone ringing out over the countryside, as they loped over the parched land.

  He could almost forget that he was traveling by bug, he thought as he shifted to a more comfortable position. Gethla sat before him, her arms loosely holding the reins as they followed the massive trail of destruction the bugs left in their wake.

  Confused was a good way to describe her. Even if he was singing those ridiculous songs, his voice vibrated through her. As she sat before the man, his thighs lined up behind hers, all she wanted to do was to melt into a puddle in his lap. His crotch was so warm she could feel it through her robes and against the flesh of her ass.

  “If I had a bug, I’d travel in the morning, I’d travel in the evening, all over this land!”

  “Gray?”

  “I’d travel through danger, I’d travel with warnings…”

  “Gray!”

  “I’d travel…”

  “Gray?”

  “Gethla?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m formulating a plan.”

  “How can you formulate anything when you are bellowing those stupid words?”

  “Stupid? I’ll have you know that they are traditional range songs.”

  “The legs on the bug?”

  “Close enough.”

  “You are going to scare any Chroan away, Gray.”

  “You said they were all gone anyway, Gethla. Besides, I’m singing to take my mind off of the fact that I’m riding on my worst nightmare.”

  “You don’t like Chroan?”

  “Chroan, where I come from, would start a panic in the street.”

  “Odd place. Please, tell me about Baltimoremaryland.”

  “Tell you about it? It’s a city.”

  “What’s a city?”

  Sighing, Gray settled back to tell her a bit about himself, and hopefully garner some information as well. This would be a peaceful exchange of information and ideals, he would help her, she would help him, he would be back to that blasted island before the next night was over. Simple.

  “A city is a place where hundreds of people gather to build homes and work.”

  “Hundreds?”

  “Thousands, actually. Baltimore is a pretty big city.”

  “What work did you do there, Gray? Were you a Warrior?”

  “Hardly. I’m an artist.”

  “An artist?”

  “I created things with metal and paint and a lot of time.”

  “Oh! You are a craftsman!”

  “You could say that, yes.”

  “And where did you live? Were you alone? What happened to your bearer and her partner?”

  “My mother and father are dead. They died when I was young.”

  “How awful! Who raised you?”

  “I raised myself, basically
. Well, the city has a system where children are placed with couples who will rear them for money.”

  “So someone paid them to love you? Children should be cherished.”

  “Well, love had nothing to do with it,” Gray sighed. “I ran away after some unpleasantness that no one would believe.”

  “Unpleasantness?”

  “Lets just say that the head of the household had an unnatural attachment to children. So I ran away when I was about thirteen and lived on the streets for a while.”

  “That is so sad, Gray. What is a street?”

  Laughing, Gray looked down at the curious woman riding between his legs and suddenly the dark thoughts of the past were washed away. “A street is a paved trail where vehicles can travel in safety. There are no Chroan in the past, Gethla.”

  “So you lived on a trail. What did you do for food?”

  “I, ah, ate out of garbage cans.” He shuddered as he recalled having to wipe the roaches off of a half-eaten sandwich when he was near starving. He recalled his hatred of the large things that seemed to be everywhere, getting into his sleeping quarters, crawling through anything that he left unattended, especially at night.

  “Garbage?”

  “Refuse. Things that people waste.”

  “Waste is bad, Gray. How can you survive if you waste?”

  “Well, I survived because people wasted. But then Jarvis found me and things changed.”

  “Who is Jarvis?”

  “Jarvis was my best friend,” he said, a soft look on his face. “Jarvis was a runaway too, but he kept us all together, and formed a family out of us.”

  “There were more of you?”

  “Every city has throwaway boys. I was just one of the lucky ones. Jarvis had a collection of us. If he felt we had potential, he would keep us. He was only five or so years older than me, but Jarvis had us organized into a real family.”

  “How wonderful!”

  “Some of it was,” he sighed, remembering times past. “Jarvis had Candy with him, and Candy was our unofficial mother. Then there was Paul, my older brother if you will. And Christian, and Mazie, and Ellain. I was the last one, I was the baby of the group, the last one he took in. Jarvis taught us a lot, like how to find food, to avoid a fight, to defend ourselves, and how to pick the trick that wouldn’t kill you.”

  “Trick?”

  “Never mind. Jarvis helped me a lot. He practically raised me. And when I got older, he saw to it that I got my GED and enrolled in college. He always saw to it that I could take care of myself.”

  “He sounds like a sire.”

  “Oh, he was. And he saw to it that I had money and I kept my dreams.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Jarvis? He’s still with Candy. They both live in Florida now. Jarvis is a psychologist, believe it or not.” At her blank look, he added, “A special doctor.”

  “Doctor?”

  “Healer?”

  “Oh! He takes care of the body!”

  “No, he is a healer of the mind.”

  “Oh.” Gethla was impressed. Those who had been touched, the insane ones, were usually driven out of villages, if not killed outright. It was said that insanity was contagious and had led to many deaths during the time when they lived below.

  “Yes, he’s very successful at what he does and he still takes care of castoff children.”

  “That is wonderful, Gray. You have a sire that seems to care for you deeply.”

  “As I care for him.” He grew silent for a moment, then prodded Gethla gently. “So tell me about your sire.”

  “My sire? Oh he was glorious, Gray. He was as tall as you, and his eyes sparkled. He always laughed and smiled and told me that he was lucky that I was born to him.”

  “He loved you.”

  “Yes, he loved me and his partner loved me as well.”

  “They took care of you?”

  “They taught me to survive, Gray. And then they went away.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “I do not know. They went away and never returned. The elders think that the rustlers got them. We found their equipment, but we never found them again.”

  “I’m sorry, Gethla,” Gray sighed as he gave the woman a quick hug. “Losing the ones you love is always hard.”

  But Gethla lost her train of thought as she felt those strong arms encircle her from behind, pull her against a hard wall of chest, the voice murmuring comfortingly to her. How she wanted this man.

  She felt a strange dampness in her lower regions and felt her lower stomach ache with longing. Longing, she decided, that was all for this man who was trying so hard to help her. Longing to experience what her parents so enjoyed before they were gone, longing to be…normal.

  But as soon as the thoughts crossed her mind, she pushed them aside. She had a purpose and a duty. She had to do what she could to save her people. Since the Chroan were lost to her, she would have to go home now and become their breeder. She had expected to have a little more time.

  “It was long ago,” she said, pulling herself from his wanted embrace and looking around her yet again. “And I have to do what I have to.”

  And that included sending Gray home. He was clouding her thinking, making her want dangerous things that she knew that she couldn’t have.

  “I guess.” Gray also looked around the barren land, still seeing no sign of the bugs.

  “And then we send you home.”

  “Yes,” Gray readily agreed. But for some strange reason, the thought of leaving this woman was starting to bother him. And he hadn’t even seen her naked yet.

  “So we shall proceed directly to my village and talk to the elders.”

  “Without even trying?”

  “What is there to try for?”

  “How do you know that the bugs, the Chroan, are destroyed? Have you ever seen them after a stampede?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Then how do you know?”

  “Because the elders said so.”

  “And they know because?”

  “Because?” That was a good question.

  “Have they ever seen them, the destruction, I mean?”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  “Then how can they tell you?”

  “I…”

  “So I propose that we follow this trail and see where it leads. Then when we find the rustlers, who probably have your bugs with them, we steal back as many as we can and take them back to your people. Your problems are solved.”

  “This…has never been tried, Gray.”

  “Then what is stopping you? Fear?”

  “I…”

  “Look, you said you were willing to do anything for your people. I think this falls into that category.”

  “You are correct, Gary.”

  “Then stop whining and let’s get those things.”

  “I do not whine. What is whine?”

  “To whine, my dear, is to complain about your problems and do nothing to change them.”

  “I will change them, Gray!”

  “Then let’s go! The sooner you and your people are settled, the sooner you can get me home.”

  “Agreed!” Gethla shouted and Gray kicked the bug into what was its form of a gallop.

  “Yee ha!” he roared and away they flew, chasing the trail of bugs, following their destinies.

  Chapter Ten

  The trail of destruction led to a blind valley where the barren hills created a natural barrier. It was the perfect place to hold a pack of unruly…varmints.

  The journey to get there was long and tiring, and nothing like traveling through the ruins and trails that Mary often dragged him through, but it was fascinating nevertheless. Fascinating because the body of his hostess was full and firm, and felt good between his legs. As the bug rocked, it pressed her tighter and tighter against the ache that developed between his thighs. Her softly rounded ass ground against the free head of his cock as the bug cantered, and brushed against him as he
pushed it into a full gallop. It was those times that he could envision parting the robes and…

  “We have to be close now,” Gethla whispered, her words tearing Gray away from his fantasy and flinging him back into reality with a hard thump.

  “I guess,” he growled, his erection still throbbing behind his robe. Thank goodness she was too innocent to actually know what it meant.

  But then she turned and smirked at him, her expression knowing. “Maybe you would like a, um, rest?” she snickered as color exploded into his cheeks.

  Without a word, he pulled the bug up by a cluster of rocks and glared at Gethla.

  “Maybe you should take care of that,” she insisted as he climbed stiffly off of the bug. “And I can watch.”

  Gray stared at her, eyes wide as she winked. He snorted and rolled his eyes. “You just want to see how my cock works and I’m not giving you the satisfaction.”

  Of course he had no problem letting her watch. He insisted on a mutual masturbation session at one point with all of his lovers. It was the best way to find likes and dislikes, though the full body exploration was still one of the best methods in his book.

  But watching someone pleasure themselves seemed to strip away all pretense and show. When you were touching yourself, you couldn’t lie to yourself. All of your feelings, thoughts and emotions seemed to show up on your face. And that information was priceless, he’d learned when he was younger. It was still worth its weight in gold, but instead of a protective measure, it now showed you who you were really dealing with.

  “I want to see if the tales are true,” Gethla said, breaking his train of thought. “I want to see it in action.”

  “Well, the it in question is not to be ogled at by young girls about to give their lives away into a forced breeding program.”

  “I am not being forced.”

  “Sounds like force to me.”

  “You don’t understand!”

  “And I don’t want to understand either!”