by Naomi Lucas
Elodie imagined him with a treasure trove of fresh produce, the kind that was so rare out in deep space, genetically enhanced space fruit and vegetables. Coffee beans that had come straight from the ground instead of the fake powdery stuff that was more common. Gunner didn’t have tattoos of guns on his cheeks but of slices of cake. She’d lick the blood and dirt off his face if there was a promise of chocolate cake beneath.
Her stomach cried at her to stop but she couldn’t.
“You’re thinking about food, aren’t you?”
Her little fantasy died so fast she couldn’t even remember when it began. Her eyes snapped open and she lifted her head up to find an empty space where her rations were normally placed by the androids. Minutes went by as she stared, hoping that they’d magically appear. The tapping beside her continued through her disappointment and her pain, forcing her to look back his way.
“Looking for this?” Gunner held something up.
Between his fingers was a ration, knocking back and forth like his finger had. He was no longer lying on his side, but mirrored her new position and continued to do so as she slid up and leaned her back to the wall.
It wasn’t quite the fantasy she pictured but it was close enough that it frightened her.
“You can have it back if you talk to me. And if you haven’t figured it out by now, I reached through and stole it while you were out. Out like a light, like a bulb, practically already dead. Didn’t want it to go to waste if that was the case.” He leaned in closer. “And your friend over there was reaching for it too.”
The pain in her stomach wailed its sad song, and for the first time, she lashed out and went for it, snatching her ration from his hand. She couldn’t believe she’d gotten it, or her audacity, but the next instant she scurried away with her prize.
Raucous laughter followed her and fuck if she cared. She sank her teeth into the tasteless, chewy gunk and savored every quick bite for the mere moments they lasted.
Kallan grumbled beside her and she knew she’d made herself entertainment again, but was beyond caring as a high of satiation settled in.
When it was over, she found herself sitting and facing Gunner. Her curiosity returned.
He watched her like a predator. She suppressed her sudden unease and nausea that threatened to upend her food.
Elodie made her way back to the wall, knowing his eyes trailed after her the whole way.
“Not going to reward me?” Gunner asked, chuckling. “I think I deserve a reward.”
Reward systems between low-life prisoners... Hah!
Kallan answered for her. “No use trying with our boy here. I offered him the sun and the moon when he first got thrown in and found the more you try, the stiffer his lips get. My boy likes listening though... When he’s in the mood.” He laughed hoarsely. Everything Kallan said sounded disgusting.
Gunner’s eyes flickered with red light, just for an instant, before they went milky again. She was about to lean in to get a closer look when he turned from her and looked at Kallan, his face harder than before.
“Your...boy?” he asked, low and deep. Frighteningly.
“The best boy a man like me could have! Isn’t that right, Ely? Daddy left but a new one took his place. A boy always needs a dad.”
Fuck you, Kallan.
“Is that so? Ely doesn’t look like a boy to me, he looks like—”
“A woman?” Kallan interjected.
“I was going to say man,” Gunner finished, deadpan.
Kallan broke out into another laugh. “Shame that. Still, he only talks to his daddy and we decided who that was now before you arrived. If you want to talk, better pick someone else.” He spat. “Like your jacket buddy.”
“What if I want to talk to you, Kallan?”
“You should’ve thought about that before you gave away your fucking leverage!”
The next moment Gunner moved from her side and crouched at the other end of his cell, startling her. Something shiny and round rolled across the floor, through her space, with enough speed that it wasn’t until it perfectly slipped through the other bars and into Kallan’s unit that she realized it was a water gel. Her stolen water gel.
Kallan caught it, ready for it, taking it before she had a chance to move. He drank it as she watched in despair, smiling cruelly at her through yellow teeth when he was done.
“I have new leverage now,” Gunner said, lifting up the second gel. “I have extra water.”
My water.
“If you’re certain you can get it past Ely here again, I guess I can answer some questions,” Kallan grumbled.
Elodie was gazing longingly at the water in his hand and hadn’t realized that Gunner was speaking to her now. “You can have this back if you say one word to me.”
Her lips parted.
His face was back at the bars in a flash, in line with her head. She jerked back.
Gunner pinned her with his gaze.
She could almost taste the refreshing liquid in her mouth, feel it move across her lips and over her tongue, down her throat, hydrating her from the outside in.
Her lips moved to give him one word...
“Waste of time! I told you!” Kallan’s shrill voice was edged with laughter.
Elodie shut her mouth.
Gunner stood up and gripped the bars they shared, his countenance shifting so precisely, so carefully, that it was almost indiscernible. He sucked up the space and had been sucking it up since he arrived. Elodie watched him uneasily, wondering if he was angry, knowing Kallan held his attention, and really saw him for the first time. Not in comparison to other men, not as a prisoner, or a man with bad luck deteriorating on a cell floor, but as a singular being. One with a lot more power than he should have.
She had been scared before, but now she was haunted.
He’s restraining himself. Elodie didn’t know how she knew, she just did, half expecting the metal in his hands to shatter like glass. Once again, the intimidation his presence created had her imagining him actually destroying the bars. Freeing himself.
If I say something, he’ll give me my water gel back. She knew she was trying to convince herself to talk to him but her instincts still warred.
There was something about Gunner that shook her to her bones, something about the way he moved and surveyed and...lurked that didn’t seem human. Even so, she could never trust his word alone. If she had a tablet she could write a bad rulebook about surviving in a prison, and the first rule she’d put down, the one that would be at the top of the page would be: never trust.
Don’t trust anyone, anything, and don’t trust yourself. Especially not yourself. The direr the circumstances were, the more likely your humanity was going to be buried by the beast.
Kallan appeared to notice the difference as well, and as she looked around at the other prisoners, many were also gazing warily at Gunner who had solidified into a terrifying, murderous-looking statue. The abrupt quiet filled the air with tension.
“Look, I’m only telling you the truth,” Kallan added, hesitantly.
Please be quiet.
“He’s not who you should be interested in anyway,” he continued, attempting to change the subject.
“Who should I be interested in?” Gunner hummed low.
The tension popped like a bubble the moment he spoke and Elodie was grateful for it.
“The men that obviously want something from you,” Kallan said. “My boy wants nothing from you.”
Royce added, “You’re the only one who’s been taken from here and returned. What’s so special about you?”
Gunner turned halfway to face him. “My ship.”
“They stole yours too?” Kallan asked, humphing. “Looks like we all have something in common here!”
“They did, but that’s where the similarities end.” Lethal, angry, low. Did no one see his clenching hands? She couldn’t take her eyes off them.
“Yeah, some of us don’t need to sport tattoos of guns to show how thre
atening we are,” Royce mocked, causing a slew of snickers throughout.
Elodie remained silent as the men around her jeered, listening, hoping to find out something. She itched to ask her own questions but didn’t want to risk her momentary invisibility.
No one’s paying attention to me. It felt like the first time in days. Her uneasy gaze remained on Gunner but even he no longer paid attention to her.
She leaned her head back and knocked it on the wall with a sigh. I should be thinking about dad and how to get the both of us out of here alive. The only idea that came to mind was to expose herself to the guards and hope for something... And she wasn’t ready for that.
“Here.” Gunner’s voice broke her thoughts.
Elodie turned to find him holding her gel through the bars with his fingers. The moment her eyes landed on it, he rolled it across the floor in her direction until it stopped a foot from her side, hidden to everyone else but them.
Was he just giving it to her? Why?
Her suspicion grew the longer she focused on the gel, so clearly hers once again, and waited to see if it was a trap.
She slid her fingers slowly across the cold floor and picked it up, keeping Gunner in her line of sight, and when he made no move, she lifted it to her lips and plopped it into her mouth, squeezing the rubbery elasticene until it dissolved and exploded in her mouth. Elodie clamped down her lips to keep any of it from escaping but the excitement of having it—when she had written it off—was too much. The water pooled down her throat and settled into her belly far too quickly for her liking. Regardless of her best effort, droplets escaped, and what her tongue couldn’t catch trailed down her chin.
She caught it on the back of her hand and rubbed the moisture back over her lips. No water, not even a drop, could be wasted. Elodie felt his piercing eyes on her the entire time. A heavy breath tickled the hair over her ear, growing heavier and more forceful by the second.
She forced herself to look.
Her lips dropped. Bloody-red irises filled her vision, brighter and deeper than before. They made the metal bars gleam crimson and beyond that, his mouth was parted. His breath came out in pants, and between his lips, she could see the sharpened points of teeth.
Teeth that weren’t human. Teeth that hadn’t been there before. She leaned closer to get a better view but his mouth snapped shut and his eyes returned to normal, startling her back.
He broke eye contact with her first and turned away, settling against the wall.
She continued to watch him for some time afterward, unsure if what she had seen was real or not. The longer she dwelled on it, the more she convinced herself that his incisors had been an illusion, a trick of her mind caused by exhaustion. That she was hallucinating.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered loud enough for only her to hear.
Elodie rubbed her palms across her pants and leaned back again, closing her eyes, drifting in and out of awareness.
Rule number two: don’t expect something for nothing.
If I give him what he wants and talk to him, he wins. If he wins, what does he win? My voice and his game. Elodie knew very well that the only reason why he wanted to hear her again was to satisfy his suspicions that she wasn’t a man. He gave me the water and the ration back for free and he doesn’t know, couldn’t know.
He doesn’t ever have to know.
Her eyes snapped open and she looked back his way. His were shut tight, his hair plastered in waves obscuring them, and his body relaxed.
Elodie gripped the cloth of her shirt and swallowed what she was going to say. It would have to wait.
Even men with crazy eyes, flashy tattoos, and possible fangs needed sleep too.
Chapter Six
WITHIN DAYS OF BEING caught, Gunner had enough power restored in his systems to spy through the cameras, leaving an indiscernible trail behind him. It wasn’t his forte, being in digital space, but he had enough knowledge to overpower outdated, non-governmental systems.
Gunner spent a fair amount of time watching the guards throughout the ship, although he quickly grew bored and his focus returned to the bridge where the main security feeds ended and a new security feed began.
The bridge was going to give him trouble.
He thrummed the currents with his own and learned what he could with what he had.
Patience was something he struggled with, and now he had a means to get what he wanted. He wanted his ship back and he wanted it now.
He scanned the area, his eyes landing on each of the prisoners within his immediate surroundings. The world was quiet to his ears, and the heavy huffs of sleep, uncomfortable but distinct, filled them. The men were all in a state of rest, triggered from years of being programmed to relax when the lights were dim overhead.
He’d been out for three days and his body shook from being caged for that long. He had to wait—patiently—for the lead he needed.
There was a dozen camera feeds embedded in the lights of the brig, above and behind barriers he couldn’t reach physically, all placed in areas outside of the rows of cells.
His gaze settled on Ely and his attention zeroed in on his person. Gunner still couldn’t decide if Ely was a man or a woman.
Any time, Gunner could grab him, rip off his clothing and find out, but even he knew that was a terrible idea.
If he really was a she and he exposed her while in such a vulnerable space, she’d be fucked because he wouldn’t be sticking around long enough to do anything about it. My ship comes first, my gunner girls, my guns, and my AI. That’s what’s important to me. A few other thoughts came to mind, like his EPED acquisitions and the plants, animals, and monsters housed in his laboratory, but he wasn’t entirely worried about them. Not yet.
He was confident in his security systems, electronic and cybernetic.
Ely shivered under his perusal and hacked out a dry cough but his eyes remained closed tight.
He’d returned to the middle of his cell to rest and Gunner couldn’t blame him. It was the safest course of action even if he proved to truly have a cock between his legs. The guy is small. Easy to overpower. Smaller than most, and tall, Gunner gathered from the short instances he’d seen Ely standing up, but wiry, willowy if he actually was a she.
There was a hint of muscle definition outlined by Ely’s fraying, dirty clothes. At least, there had been muscle before being locked up in a cell for weeks without regular food and water.
There was also scarring on his hands and arms where flesh was exposed. Those scars signified hard, possibly dangerous work; maybe a welder, a builder, possibly even a cook. Whatever he did, there was a chance of damage.
Strike male?
Ely was on his side, curled in on himself to shield away the cold and encapsulate as much heat as possible. It was the same position Gunner had seen him in when he was brought back from interrogation, Many of the men around him rested the same way.
When there was no hope, no one really gave a damn what they looked like.
Gunner quietly clasped his hands together. He appreciated the internal heat from his mainframe that always kept him comfortable. He pressed his hands over his nose and breathed in his own scent, sighing from the familiarity and comfort it brought.
With his hands still poised over his face, he returned to the task at hand and moved to the center of his cell.
Where oh where can my little dog be? He weeded out long tendrils of electricity, powered from deep inside his hardware, looking for the closest connection—one that was within reach—to his cell. The electrical panel drew him but he ignored it, knowing he needed something closer... Something inside his space that he could touch at will and without pretending to break his arm to get at the lock.
The stream of lights overhead came next, and the mechanism that released the restraints soon after. His eyes shifted upward to the ceiling that was still several feet outside his reach. The old chrome sheen met his gaze.
Still too far.
Gunner crouched on t
he vents that ran across and under his feet, but felt nothing close at hand. The hole in the middle was no bigger than several inches in diameter, and under that, there was a grate system he spied with suction vents along the walls of it.
So it catches the crap and then sucks it into the walls.
With the continuous sounds of bad sleep filling his ears, Gunner stepped away and meticulously ran his hands over the walls, floors, and bars of his enclosure, finding little zaps of energy beneath the metal. When all was said and done, his attention returned to the crap chute.
Why the fuck was I made to be a goddamned jackal?
He crouched before the vent again and regarded it with disgust. Flexing his fingers, his claws elongated into razor sharp points. He ran the pad of his thumb over one of them until the skin sliced open and pulled away, dripping partial synthetic blood.
Gunner cut deeper, exposing the tip of his thumb bone and the sheen of uncorroded metal that made up his frame.
A movement to his left stopped him. He retracted his nails and closed his fingers over the cut that had already begun to heal. Ely appeared at his side and stared at his hand.
Gunner opened his fist and showed it healed anew. “Nothing to see here,” he whispered, but his focus was undeterred and once again zeroed in on Ely’s eyes, the way his hair fell, and the shape of his lips. Although the lights were low and hazy, he could see Ely’s face more clearly than he had any time before.
He had a straight nose, almond eyes, strong, high cheekbones, and a tapered jaw. All covered in layers of dirt, but there were also slithers of ghostly pale skin beneath the grime. The kind of pale that meant years of taking Vitamin D pills because it never saw sunlight.
His hair is blonde, or light brown. He couldn’t tell. It fell in thick strands over his ears and the sides of his face, pushed to the side, obscuring some of his features.
A pretty boy...or a beautiful girl.
“How long have you been in here?” Gunner asked, low enough for only the two of them to hear. He didn’t want to wake anyone up. Especially Kallan.
