by Imogene Nix
“Stay behind me.” The voice echoed low and deep, the sound bouncing off the walls.
The command had to come from a human male, for a clone wouldn’t show such concern for his comrades. After all, they were each trained to kill with equal lethal ability. Humans, however, relied on a chain of command to make themselves feel superior.
“There will likely be bats in some of these passages, and they’re bigger than the ones found on Earth. We’ll try not to wake them.” This time the voice was whispered, but Damon was accustomed to silence, so the words rang loud and clear to him.
The intruder was probably only one hundred yards away, nearing the fork in the cavern passage. If they approached his section, they would indeed encounter bats. Damon chose to reside in his section for that very purpose—it would deter anyone else from entry. Unfortunately for his intruder, if they took the other passage, they would encounter a foe much worse than the blood-thirsty bats.
“These night-vision glasses are showing ten of the massive beasts. I don’t think we can get through there without waking them up.”
Damon stilled at the soft voice. Humans had spoken of women in the base, but now Damon heard one for the first time. He listened, his muscles taut with tension, curiosity racking his bones.
“We’ll go down this passage instead.” Another softly pitched voice spoke, but this one was different. The words dripped with authority, as if not used to being questioned. It left a bitter taste in Damon’s mouth. So human females were not much different from the men who’d held him captive. Disappointing. His curiosity diminished. Let the humans reap what they deserved in the dark cavern.
“Elara, I think we should take our chances with the bats.” A soft voice questioned the leader’s resolve. He imagined the voice belonged to a dainty creature. Again, his curiosity stirred. What would a woman look like in the flesh?
“Don’t worry, Angela. We won’t encounter anything I haven’t already dealt with before.” The man spoke with confidence, but it wasn’t cocky like the other human men that had run Base 23.
As their footfalls treaded away, Damon found himself following them. He silently moved through the dark stone halls, creeping beneath the slumbering nocturnal beasts until he arrived at the fork. He listened before he turned, ensuring he’d follow the humans at a safe distance. If they did indeed have night-vision glasses, he’d easily be spotted since there were few places to hide in that particular passage.
At home within the pitch-black caverns, his eyes had already adjusted to the darkness. He detected the faint outline of the humans ahead. The male led, his towering seven foot form followed by two shorter forms—one around five foot seven, the other even smaller. He waited for them to speak, but they didn’t. They treaded lightly. When they made their way two hundred yards deeper, Damon hung back. Any minute now they’d find—
“Go back!” the male shouted, pushing the women to go back the way they came.
Excitement coursed through Damon’s veins. Would he get a closer look at the females?
Instead of retreating, they ran into the fray, battling a small colony of sand mites. The giant monsters would surely slaughter the women. He started forward, a reflex that caught him by surprise. He halted, listening to the sound of metal slicing into the thick hides of the mites. A loud thump signaled that one of the monsters had been felled.
“I got the one on the right.” The soft voice still managed to sound like a battle cry. Her knife pierced through the thick shell of the mite. It fell to the ground, but she continued stabbing it.
The other two humans quickly dispatched more of the pests and didn’t notice another approaching the tiny woman’s dark form. Would she realize before the mite sank its teeth into her?
Damon didn’t hesitate. He threw himself into the fight and drove his own blade into the beast. When the monster fell, the woman screamed, turning quickly. Through the dark he made out the blood oozing down her blade. He gazed at her face, mostly obscured by the night-vision goggles. Still, her blonde hair was so bright it nearly glowed in the dark, helping to illuminate her delicate jawline and ivory skin. She must not have been on the planet long.
Strong hands wrapped around Damon’s neck from behind, wringing the life out of him. Damon yanked his blade from the mite to drive it into the foe.
“No!” the woman screamed, so he halted the blow. His fingers tightened around the blade as the air continued to be cut off from his lungs. “Rogue, stop.”
The man called Rogue released him. Damon didn’t bother glancing behind at his attacker, his eyes rapt on the woman before him. His fingers twitched as if charged with electricity, buzzing with the need to touch her. He reached forward slowly. When she didn’t try to lob his hand off, he removed her night-vision glasses. Rogue jabbed the barrel of a gun into his back, but Damon donned them anyway.
His breath was taken away all over again and this time he didn’t need Rogue’s help. “Beautiful.” He exhaled slowly, afraid once the breath was complete, he’d awaken and realize her visage had only been a dream.
The night-vision glasses were ripped off him from behind, but Damon still saw the woman’s face clearly through the dark. Her eyes widened ever so slightly under his appraisal. For a moment, he thought her afraid.
The gun jabbed deeper into his back. “Identify yourself.”
“He saved my life. Drop the gun, Rogue.”
“Still,” the other woman interjected. “Identify yourself.”
Damon didn’t take his eyes off the stunning image before him. “I’ve been dwelling in this cave since the revolution. My name is Damon.”
“A refugee.” Her brows knit in concern. Damon fought the urge to take his thumb and smooth out the tiny dimple in her forehead and erase her worry.
“What is your name?” He had to know.
“Maybe we should learn more about him first,” the other woman warned.
Although the gun had been moved, Damon still felt it aimed in his direction. The humans wouldn’t react well if they knew he was a clone. In a way, he was a refugee. “I was at Base 23. After the revolt, I hid in this maze of caverns where I knew no one would find me. And if they did find me, I didn’t believe they would survive the entry.”
“You were at Base 23? What happened? Did you know General Radden?” The woman fired the questions at him, her voice shaky.
“Angela.” The other woman put a stop to the questions. “Maybe we should let Rogue have a talk with him.”
“No,” she answered. “I need to know.”
Know what? Damon decided to tell the truth. “Base 23 is overrun with clones. It was a massacre.” He instantly realized it was a mistake, a tear sliding down her cheek in response. He barely caught sight of it through the dark and she didn’t wipe it away.
The other woman spoke up. “I’m Elara, that’s Rogue and Angela. We need to know if there are any survivors at Base 23 or other refugees like you that are in hiding.”
Angela. What to tell her? What would she want to hear? He wondered why pleasing her mattered so much to him. “It’s possible.” The truth was every single human was dead.
Rogue shoved Damon and got in his face. “Then why are you hiding like a coward?”
Fury passed through Damon’s body in a wave of heat. He clenched his fists by his sides, trying to rein in his anger. He met the brute’s intense stare. “I guess I don’t like violence as much as you do.”
“Then you shouldn’t have been a soldier.”
Damon fought the urge to tell the asshole that it was never his choice. He bit his tongue. “You look like you were born to be a soldier.”
“As a matter of fact, I was.” His icy gaze challenged Damon.
“This pissing contest is a waste of time,” Elara cut in.
“She’s right.” Angela stepped between them and placed a hand on both of their chests, pushing them away from each other.
The minute her palm hit Damon’s skin, his heart surged in his chest. The blood quickened, p
umping through his veins as if her fingertips were charged with electricity.
She looked at him. “Take us to the camp. I know the way, but…you’ll have a better understanding of how we should approach.”
“You shouldn’t go.”
Her brows furrowed once more, this time in confusion. “Of course we will.”
“What if I told you there were no survivors?” He watched a storm of emotions pass across her expression.
She tipped her chin up, appearing very much a determined soldier. “We would still go.”
“I can’t go back.” The words were automatic, a mantra that he lived by. “I’m done killing, I’m done with death.”
Rogue grunted. “Let’s leave this asshole behind.”
“We’ll come for you on our way out,” Elara said flatly before walking away.
Only Angela was left before him. He stepped in front of her when she began to follow her comrades. “If you go to Base 23, the clones won’t show you any mercy.”
“Believe me, I already know that. I’ll die before I ever let a clone lay a hand on me again. Count on it.” With that, her form disappeared through the dark.
Chapter 2
Angela felt eyes on her back as she walked away. The human refugee, Damon, must have been watching her, and it left her heart beating rapidly. The man had looked at her as if she were an angel. Did the intensity of his gaze mean he would join them in the cause of rescuing the others? It was crazy, but for a moment she thought he’d do anything for her.
He couldn’t be scared to go back to the base with them, for he’d easily dispatched one of those sand mites. He was a well-trained soldier, and someone that would be good to have on their side. Obviously he had seen horrifying things go down at the base. She swallowed hard as she trudged on behind Rogue and Elara. Her father was at that base. Would he still be there?
Angela knew how Damon must feel. After her initial mission to planet US-2, she’d blacked out during a beating from blood-thirsty clones. When she’d woken, she’d already been saved by Elara and Rogue, but she was naked and wrapped in a blanket with no choice but to wonder if she’d been violated. She later found out she hadn’t been, but the feeling of utter helplessness and wondering had been devastating. Upon her return to Earth she’d remained catatonic for some time. The only thing that pulled her out? The thought of punishing those that had reduced her to that state and rescuing as many humans as possible.
“It’s hot as hell outside,” Rogue warned. “But I think we should move on. I don’t trust that guy.”
“He seemed harmless enough, needs our help more than we need his.” Elara plopped down on the ground near the mouth of the cave. Sweat already beaded her upper lip and forehead.
“He’s too lethal to be acting so helpless.” Rogue handed Elara his canteen for a drink.
Angela sucked in a deep breath and headed outside into the blistering hot sun. “Let’s move on.”
* * * *
An hour later they were still trudging in the direction where Angela and Rogue believed they would locate Base 23. They’d landed a good distance away to ensure they didn’t have a repeat of their first mission, in which their ship had been stormed and taken over. Rogue had led that charge, so he easily directed them to a more cavernous region where the craft could be hidden.
“Quiet.” Rogue halted, pushing Elara behind him. She shook her head and stepped forward, retrieving her rifle.
“I see movement.” Elara knelt on the ground to steady the scope.
Angela listened, the hairs standing on the back of her neck. Gunfire exploded around them, red dust kicking up from the ground. Angela whirled, dropping to her knees and firing into the nearest clone. Her bullet found its mark, felling the enemy.
The hiss of a bullet tore past her cheek, but she didn’t falter in her aim and took down another. Six towering men rushed toward them with both murder and lust written in their expressions. To clones, humans were hated, and women were non-existent on the planet. The hate pumping through Angela’s veins acted like adrenaline, and she’d cut the clones down with pleasure.
“Damn!” Elara motioned toward a second wave of clones descending on them. She rushed toward the additional foe, firing. Rogue growled and ran after her.
Angela glanced to her side, and pain exploded in her right arm. She dropped her gun, crying out. She clutched at the wound with her left hand, and blood seeped between her fingertips from where the bullet had just grazed her.
“Get the bitch! Leave her alive.” The remaining three clones advanced on her.
Angela fumbled for the gun with her left hand. She finally caught hold of it, but when she raised the weapon it was kicked out of her hand. She looked up into the malicious smile of the clone before her just as his throat was slit from behind.
Angela gasped when the clone dropped to the ground and revealed the man they’d left behind. “Damon.”
Without the darkness of the cave she could see him clearly. His icy blue eyes surveyed her form with lethal disapproval. He grabbed the gun from her hand and fired two shots, one into the clone’s chest, another into the other’s ankle. Angela watched him have words with the one he’d left alive, but she couldn’t hear from so far away. When he was done, he stabbed the clone in the heart.
Angela clutched at her wound, still searing in pain. But her mind was occupied with Damon’s form. He was just as tall as he’d seemed in the cave, a massive tower of a man with enough muscle carved into him that he appeared to be born of granite. His skin wasn’t as tanned as the clones he’d just dispatched, which meant he’d been hiding in the cave for some time.
He stalked toward her, tearing the shirt over his head. Her mouth went dry when his long abdomen was revealed, a picture of masculine strength. He dropped to his knees before her and tied the white fabric over her wound.
“You came,” she uttered.
A strange feeling passed through Angela. Her whole life had been dedicated to her work, and after what happened during her last mission, she’d not wanted the company of men. But now, instead of feeling vulnerable, she felt safe. Even if she had just seen such an outburst of violence from him, it had been spent punishing the clones that sought to harm her.
“I followed you at a distance.” He finished tying a knot. “I knew you would be able to dispatch the six. When the others showed up, I came running.” He cursed. “But I was too late.”
He helped her stand, but she never took her eyes off his. “I would have taken care of them.”
“They only grazed you on purpose.” Damon gazed down at her, his jaw set as if he craved to punish the clones all over again.
“I know,” she stated. “They want me intact…” She sucked in a breath, the truth still too vivid. “They’re desperate to put hands on the only females they’ve ever seen.”
He didn’t say anything, just searched her eyes for the answers she refused to divulge. She’d not speak of the horror she’d experienced, it only left her feeling weak.
Rogue and Elara loped over a small hill, coming back into view. Elara wiped the sweat from her forehead, her brows furrowing when she reached Angela. “You’re hurt.” She dropped her backpack and rummaged through it for medical supplies.
“This bandaging will hold until we find cover. There will be another patrol,” Damon advised.
“How do you know?” Rogue questioned. Angela watched the two stare each other down.
“I don’t know, but I’m not willing to take the chance.”
“Let’s move then.” Elara grabbed for Angela’s backpack, but she shrugged away.
“I’ve got it.”
“I’ll carry it.” Damon’s deep voice left little to be questioned. Angela cast him a long glance before she let him slide the bag over her shoulder.
“Does this mean you’re going to join us?” Elara wiped some sweat off her forehead. “Rogue and Angela have an intricate understanding of this world, but we wouldn’t turn away more insight.”
“We would,” Rogue growled.
“I know a route that will allow us to remain undetected by the clones. There will be other beasts, but I’ve already seen you dispatch them easily enough.”
Together they made for the nearest dip in the landscape to be out of sight.
Rogue and Elara walked in front, hand in hand. Angela had meant to quicken pace, but instead, she hung back in the hope of getting to know their new guide.
“Thank you for coming. Our mission is to find as many refugees as possible left over from the revolution. I’m sorry to ask you to follow us into more danger. I know you’ve experienced your share of it.” Angela watched him look away. Strange. Ever since he’d removed her night-vision goggles, he’d not taken his eyes off her. But now he seemed riveted on the landscape.
When he didn’t answer, her concern and curiosity reached a new level.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “It’s clear you’ve been through much. We shouldn’t have asked you to come with us.”
“I said no, if you don’t recall. And yet I was urged to follow of my own volition.”
“Why?”
Before he could answer, they arrived at the sinkhole leading down into a cavern. Rogue halted Damon short of the entry. “Elara will tend to Angela’s wound. You and I will stand watch.”
“Better for us to remain out of sight,” Damon disagreed.
Angela watched the two as Elara helped her down into the hole and began pulling supplies out of the backpack. The men stared each other down, both of them daring one another to take the position as the alpha, neither of them backing down.
When Damon disappeared from view, she pondered the man. He was so opposed to fighting and violence, choosing to live as a recluse, hiding out in caves, and yet, he stood side by side with Rogue, a warrior, and didn’t back down.
It was wrong for Angela to want Damon to accompany them and possibly find more of the danger he had spent so much time avoiding. She was being selfish indeed, but she had to discover more about the intriguing man.
Chapter 3
