Keeping Their Human: Monrok Warriors 2

by Aubrey Cara

  “I distracted him.”

  She shakes her head. “The fight was over. Baza blasted him in his back.”

  “But how?” I didn’t even see him raise a weapon.

  “The Monrok have weapons in their hands. The men themselves are weapons. Brilliant, all-knowing weapons. They were designed and created to guard the Zapex against the Ko’sars.”

  I know who the Zapex are. They are the blue men who somehow stole us from Earth. Drugged me. They are who we have escaped. I do not know who these Ko’sars are.

  Across the space, I hear Allyson’s mate say, “You have had how many cycles with your female, and you have not explained we are not human?”

  “Hst,” Jual complains from where they work over Situs. A sizzle of smoke rises, carrying the stench of burning flesh. If I angle my head just so, I can see a laser-like blue light coming out of Jual’s index finger, suturing Situs’s back.

  “They’re not human,” I mumble to myself. Allyson told me this, but seeing a laser come out of flesh and bone makes my head spin.

  “We are Monrok,” Allyson’s mates answer in unison.

  Jual turns searching my gaze for what, I’m not sure. He holds out his hand. “Come, little mate.”

  Cautiously, I take one step in front of the other and place my hand in his much larger, stronger one. His grip is light but reassuring, which is ridiculous. A nervous laugh, edged with tears, bubbles out of my mouth before I can stifle it. He’s killed with this hand that holds mine so gently. He’s wiped it off, but there are still smears of drying blood covering his skin.

  Aryl’s blood.

  Situs’s blood.

  And, now, my tears.

  My skin appears pale and fragile skin against his rough, dark hand. Breakable. Is that how he sees me? That’s how he’s gazing at me. Like I’m about to shatter into a million little pieces. That’s how they always look at me. Fragile Hannah. And I proved them right, tonight.

  I bow my head in shame.

  Jual nudges a knuckle under my chin and lifts my face. “I do not understand the reason for the emotions you are releasing.”

  “Can you really sense what I’m feeling?”

  Jual nods. “Confusion. Shame. Fear. They roll off you. I can smell them.”

  “But how?”

  He turns me around to look at Situs’s back. The skin is torn apart and pulled across his back in jagged strips, barely covering…a network of metallic glowing blue veins, much like wires, that cover his back where blood and sinew should be.

  “What you see are his cybernetics,” he says. Jual’s big hands come up to bracket my shoulders as he stands behind me. His touch gives me comfort and strength I didn’t know I needed. “All of us Monroks have them. They are a living thing inside us. They fill our bodies, allowing us to control our organs, thoughts, even our emotions. Our bodies do not get warm or cold like yours. We do not experience hunger or pain the same way humans do. Our quantum computing capabilities allow us knowledge of anything in the known universe. It’s easily obtained through frequencies our minds control. And, as you can see, we heal much more efficiently.”

  I gasp. The skin on Situs’s back is growing right before my eyes.

  “See, already his body regenerates. By tomorrow, he will be as good as new. Or at least his old self,” he jokes.

  I can’t find the humor. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Allyson and her men leaving. I don’t even raise my hand in farewell. My mind is running in a million directions.

  By all rights, I should find these men to be abominations. They weren’t created by God. I should be horrified to find myself possibly tied to such beings for the rest of my life. But I cannot find the disdain within me to condemn them.

  “I’m glad you’re both alive.” As soon as I say it, I realize I am.

  A heavy flood of relief rushes over me. After everything that has happened in the past few weeks, I’m not sure I could have handled losing them. They are my only protection in my new existence. An existence that makes me sorry I ran from my old life.

  So very sorry.

  I cover my mouth and choke on a sob, tears making hot trails down my face.

  Jual carefully, awkwardly pats me on the back, and it’s the most comforting gesture I’ve ever received. It’s clear Jual and Situs have no experience with women. Possibly not with any humans. They do not know how to comfort. They are unsure in their dealing with me, but they have natural kindness within them. Every day it shines through in the little things they do for me.

  My family is gone.

  Everything I have ever known does not exist here.

  I’ve been thinking of Situs and Jual as my jailers. The ones sent by God to punish me for leaving my family and husband long before I was taken by the Zapex. But they are not my punishers, they are my protectors.

  Maybe even angels of mercy sent to protect me.

  And they are all I have.

  I cannot lose them, too.

  I slide my hand over Situs’s, twining my fingers with his. It’s the first time I’ve purposely touched him. It’s my extension of an olive branch, though I’m not sure if he would appreciate the reach if he were awake.

  CHAPTER SIX

  HANNAH

  Ten Long Days Later

  On my knees, I pray.

  I clasp my hands tightly together, willing myself to focus.

  Since the battle, we’ve fallen into something of a routine. Breakfast is usually whatever game the men caught the night before. After our meals, I kneel at the side of my mat and ask God to forgive me. To guide me to my purpose, for there must be a purpose to all this.

  I have to believe that.

  Though they won the right to claim me, they don’t let me leave the shuttle during the day, except to walk the immediate area and relieve myself. This shuttle has become my prison, and the inactivity and loneliness wear on me.

  The silence on Kadeema is different from Earth, the buzz of insects more of a whirr. There are no sounds of children’s laughter. The hum of tractors, or the thumping of people coming and going in a steady stream of activity is absent.

  I wonder if this is what the world was like before Adam and Eve set foot on its hallowed ground. Alone with my thoughts, I have nothing but time to think about these things. I’ve searched for my purpose through years of being childless and disdained by my husband. I lost my way and was angry with God more than a few times.

  Now, sitting on another planet, I’m questioning the scriptures in other ways. I question how Adam and Eve came to be on Earth, and I question my path and purpose here.

  Some days, I wonder if I’m dead and this is my purgatory. If so, I’m not sure how I should go about atoning. Too often, I find myself dwelling on what I should have done differently in my life.

  Head bowed, I try to ignore the men but sense their eyes on me. My thighs clench in anticipation. I try to will the sensation tingling through me to disappear and the sinful thoughts clouding my prayers to go away.

  In a moment, Jual will take my shoulder or stroke my hair as he does every day, and then he’ll tell me it’s time, and I’ll lie back and bare myself to him. He’ll tell me how much I please him, which, in turn, pleases me much more than it should.

  Some days he asks me to touch myself like that first day. Others he asks me to touch him.

  His length is always hot and heavy in my hand. I find myself mesmerized by the way he pulses in my grip. The way his eyes roll closed in rapture. The hot splash of his seed hitting my skin. Shame washes through me the second he finishes, but it’s because I enjoy his attention. It should disgust me when he does it, but it only makes me feel closer to him.

  And, God forgive me, but I look forward to his doing it.

  My breasts swell, my nipples tighten, and I wait.

  Praying.

  The men move on unbelievably silent feet around me. Another of their abilities as Monrok. Their bruises after the fight barely formed before they were fading away. Broken bones healed by th
e time the sun rose that first day.

  The hatch opens and, in my peripheral vision, I see Situs leave. He doesn’t offer a farewell but glances over his shoulder in my direction. It’s on the tip of my tongue to wish him a good day, but he’s gone before I work up the nerve. This is nothing unusual. I don’t know why I can’t talk to him. I grow nervous and clam up every time I’m near him, but I have to try.

  Logically, I know he keeps his distance as a courtesy to me, but it’s beginning to sting. I’m drawn to him, and I’m not sure why. I think it’s his guilt. I don’t like the idea the darkness he carries is because of me. He hates himself for what he did, but the Zapex drugged him.

  They took his will, as they did mine.

  Or perhaps he resents having me here, a maudlin part of me reasons.

  Jual moves to follow Situs out the door, and I protest, my heart sinking. “Wait! Where are you going?”

  “I’m scheduled to work digging safety tunnels.”

  From my understanding the tunnels the men are working on are more like interconnecting underground bunkers.

  “Aren’t you going to mark me?” I cringe, embarrassed by my desperate tone.

  He seems distracted and only slightly regretful when he shakes his head. “Situs will mark you today, little mate. He went to check traps. He will be right back.”

  “But Situs hates me.” I know I’m being petulant.

  Jual shakes his head and gives me an odd frown. “He does not like how much he wants you.” And with that he’s gone, and it takes all my willpower to hold back my plea he come back.

  Liking me and wanting me are two different things. Jonah wanted me, but he didn’t like me at all. I’m crazy for longing for their attention, but constant loneliness has become my only companion. Every time they walk out the door has felt like an abandonment.

  Now, it feels like a rejection.

  It may be sinful of me to crave our time together, but those moments Jual marks me...he worships me with his eyes and treats me like I’m the most amazing thing in the world. No one has ever looked at me or made me feel like he does.

  Special.

  And I’m not used to being idle. It feels sinful not to be contributing in some way. Not to be working. I’m thankful for their protection, but frustration eats at me. I hate that they don’t see I am capable of doing so many things for myself. Helpful things, like making baskets and gardening.

  A little voice says I’m being selfish, but I wish to go outside on my own. It’s true. I won’t deny it. I can’t stay in this shuttle another day. I refuse to.

  Jual’s long stride carries him across the meadow I refer to as our yard, and soon he disappears over the hill. Suddenly I realize he’s left the hatch open. They only do this when one of them has stayed behind, allowing me more outdoor time, but I do not see Situs.

  Shoring up my courage, I stick my head out the doorway, looking right then left. Situs is nowhere to be found. “Hello?” There is no reply.

  I’ve never set foot outside the shuttle without one of the men near, and I have a moment of trepidation. One of the butterfly creatures the size of a small bird flies by, and I boldly step out of the shuttle, releasing a big burst of air.

  I’ve done it. I’m outside.

  The strange whir of insects and wildlife is amplified out here.

  The world looms around me, and I fight the desire to run inside but push back my shoulders and relish the breeze on my face. Kadeema smells wonderfully of sweet grass and clover. This is my new home. The day shines bright with possibilities, and the morning air is still crisp but will grow heavier with the warmth later in the afternoon. No one is around, but Situs might come back at any moment.

  Giddy anticipation wells up inside me as I sneak around the side of the shuttle. I’m going to walk to the river by myself. At the edge of the woods, my excitement dims a little. The sun is shining through the trees, lighting the path the men cleared, but Situs or Jual usually carry me.

  I glance down at my naked feet and wiggle my toes. Then I glance back at the path.

  I’ll just have to be careful where I step.

  ~*~*~*~

  Walking out here on my own is liberating, and my feet are less sensitive than I feared. It reminds me of when I was a child and ran barefooted around the farm. The babbling rush of water becomes prevalent before I see the river up ahead. I take a deep breath of earthy, fresh scents of trees and water, throwing my arms wide.

  It appears I’ve come to a part of the river much deeper than where Situs and Jual usually take me.

  Walking to the edge, I drop to my knees and peer into the depths. The current moves quickly here, meaning the water is safe to drink, so I scoop up a handful of cool liquid and bring it to my mouth.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  Sputtering, I nearly fall in.

  Up the bank stands a tall, shapely woman with long, black hair. She’s wearing rough leather pants, and her breasts are barely confined by a very little, very tight leather vest held together by crude brown leather strings.

  A veritable mural of tattoos cover her arms and run up her neck. What I can only guess to be handmade knives decorate the makeshift belt at her waist.

  “Who are you?” I ask, my eyebrows somewhere up in my hairline. “I’ve never seen you before.”

  “Not surprising,” she says strolling toward me. “It’s not like those men of yours let you out of your box too often.”

  I fidget uncomfortably. It seems this woman, who is out alone, knows something of me, while I know nothing of her. Though it’s obvious from her accent and cocksure swagger she’s American.

  “So, do the Boy Scouts you’re attached to know you’ve flown the coop?” she asks, standing over me, hands on hips.

  She has a glow of vitality about her. Her skin is flawless, and her dark hair falls around her in waves. She’s likely even younger than me, but her dark brown eyes seem old somehow.

  “What’s wrong with the water?” I ask, not answering her question. If she’s not going to answer my question, why should I answer hers?

  She smirks and holds out a hand. “I’m Raina.” I take her hand, and she helps me up. “And the water is safe to drink. Just not to hang out near.” She picks up a large stone and throws it at the water.

  Something with long black spikes pops to the surface. I shriek, scuttling back and Raina nods. “There’s shit in there that would haunt Freddy Krueger’s dreams.”

  I try not to cringe at her vulgar language. “Who’s Freddy Krueger?”

  Raina gives me a perplexed look. “You know, the movie Nightmare on Elm Street?”

  I shake my head. Televisions weren’t allowed where I’m from, but for some reason I don’t want her to know I’m from a religious colony. In this moment, I want to be a regular woman out for a stroll.

  “Well, he was a scary dude, and there’s even scarier shit in there.” She points to the water. “Your guys don’t know you’re out, do they?”

  I shrug.

  She eyes me up and down. “Good for you, hun. A little rebellion is good for the soul.” She pulls one of her knives off her belt and hands it to me.

  I stare at it stupidly. “What’s that for?”

  “Oh, my fuck.” She shakes her head in disgust. “Hun, if you have to ask, you need it more than you know.” She waves it at me, and this time I take it. It’s light and made out of some kind of stone, the hilt wrapped in rough brown leather string as a grip.

  “You gotta watch out for the animals, and those are just the perverts who think they’re in charge around here. There’s also actual weird critters I would give a wide berth, if I were you.” She turns to leave, but I’m not ready for her to go. It’s nice having another woman to talk to. Even an intimidating, somewhat scary woman like Raina.

  “Do you go out on your own often?” I ask, trying to draw out the conversation.

  She pauses, half turning. “Yeah, I guess I’m a bit of a rebel, too.” She waggles her eyebrow
s and starts walking.

  “I’m Hannah, by the way,” I call out.

  “Nice to meet you, hun,” she says, not stopping.

  “Thanks for the knife!”

  She raises her arm in acknowledgment and strides back into the woods.

  Her warnings echo in my mind, and my gaze darts around the river clearing with sudden foreboding, like I’ve wandered too far away from safety. I square my shoulders, shaking the prickling of unease threatening to steal my newfound freedom.

  I tighten my grip on the knife in my hand before jabbing it in front of me to try it out. It feels awkward. I’ve never killed anything.

  I wrinkle my nose.

  Not even livestock.

  The two suns rising higher in the sky and wonder if either of the men have realized I’m gone. I should probably get back, so as to not worry them.

  ~*~*~*~

  I’m not going to panic.

  But I’m lost.

  I stopped to empty my bladder and somehow got turned around. I’m on a path, but it’s not the right path, and the irony isn’t lost on me. I shouldn’t have gone out without one of the men, or at least not have wandered so far. I’ve been walking long enough that I should be back at our shuttle by now. I wince, stepping on another twig. The bottom of my feet are already cut, another won’t make a difference. I grit my teeth and keep walking, trying not to notice sinister bare spots on the trees.

  It’s easy to forget we’re on a different planet until I see something like that. Where bare spots on Earth’s trees are such a light brown they’re nearly white, here they’re such a dark-red they look to be bleeding.

  Or maybe that’s my imagination getting the best of me. I feel like I’m being watched. There’s a scuffling in the bushes, and I jump. The eerie chitter and buzz of insects and birds that aren’t really birds seem amplified to my ears.

  I’m letting myself be afraid when I shouldn’t.

  I take a deep breath and pick up my pace.

  I’m fine, I repeat again and again.