Deadliest of the Species

by Michael Oliveri

  He sipped, this time to hide his expression. Another victory. He seemed to remember having a lot of conversations with his ex-wife taking the same turn.

  Likewise, Alexandra hid behind her mug, staying there until her rage subsided.

  Smug in his success, Tim turned to one side and looked at the back yard. He sipped at his tea and welcomed the tingling which now ran rampant through his system.

  “Let’s finish off the tea,” she stated suddenly, snatching his still half-full mug from his mouth in mid-sip.

  Oh, this is great. First, uncontrollable flushing. Now, sulking. Perfect! He considered the rapid stirring and clatter of the spoon on the mug an added bonus.

  She returned and slammed his mug down hard as she plopped down heavily into her chair. The motion started her robe spilling off one shoulder, but she caught it and pulled it back up. He turned back, eyeing her and trying to gauge her next move.

  She didn’t say anything for some time. Instead, she sipped steadily at her tea. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply and evenly. He realized the time for gloating passed. Now he would have to watch for trouble.

  “You never got to tell me what you wanted with me,” he said carefully.

  “Yes, I did,” she replied, her eyes still shut.

  “Sex?”

  She nodded.

  “Why me? You have a town full of men.”

  Finally she opened her eyes and fixed her gaze upon him. “You’re different.”

  “In what way?”

  “You have a certain bloodline that I am looking for. We have a common ancestor.”

  “Isn’t that incest?” he asked.

  “No, of course not. I’m talking one gene if you want to put it in scientific terms. Or maybe a small percentage of them. A recessive trait that goes back centuries.”

  “One gene. So you’re looking to have a baby of the same blood?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And it’s recessive? How do you expect them to match up?”

  “They will,” she said, completely confident. “The Earth Mother will see to that.”

  Tim shrugged, not wanting to spark another argument. “Whatever you say, sister.”

  “You don’t need to understand. But I tell you what, I’ll make you a deal.”

  That piqued Tim’s interest. “What kind of deal?”

  “You get me pregnant, and stick around through delivery, and I’ll let you out of here with your life.”

  Wow. And he thought his wedding vows sounded weird while he listened to them. “That’s it? No other catches?”

  “That’s it,” she replied.

  “And if I refuse?”

  “Then I’ll find a way around your cooperation. You can either make it easy or hard. One way or another, you will get me pregnant.”

  Tim shrank into his chair. He suddenly saw the unpleasant image of himself frozen in a giant meat storage freezer, Alexandra occasionally coming in and scraping a sample off a testicle and microwaving it for artificial insemination. “Fine. I’ll do it. I’ve got nothing better to do and nowhere else to go.”

  She smiled. “I knew you would see it my way. Now, finish your tea.”

  He complied.

  “Feel that tingling? Take a deep breath. Give in to it.”

  He did and the tingling intensified. With each breath it grew stronger still, until suddenly his erection returned. “What’s in the tea?” he asked, thinking of the unidentifiable quality to the taste.

  “An aphrodisiac,” she replied.

  “Ah, shit,” he said dejectedly. Winning the argument suddenly seemed a shallow victory.

  “Too late to fight it.” She stood, untied her robe and allowed it to slide off her shoulders. It slipped to the floor with ease, giving him an eyeful of her slender body. He suddenly wanted her more than he ever wanted any other woman in his life. She stepped closer and he felt a touch of insecurity as he realized she intended to make love to him in front of an open patio window with two women standing right outside.

  She slid into his lap. “Too bad you wore the jeans. I was hoping you would opt for the robe,” she said as she caressed the bulge beneath his fly. She leaned closer, her mouth hovering inches from his. “Time to test your endurance, Timothy.”

  He not only gave in but he put his whole self into the effort. The two women in the back yard suddenly could not be any further from his mind.

  Chapter Ten

  Tim spent the next month biding his time and putting on the appearance that he intended to uphold his end of the bargain.

  Depending how he looked at it, however, things were not all that bad. He had frequent (at times very frequent) sex, and better than ever before. Fortunately, his endurance held up. It amused him to think he stocked up during the last few months of his marriage, after his wife suddenly turned into a cold fish.

  Beyond the sex he got more rest than ever before in his life, and he had more than enough time for his calisthenics. He got into great shape and felt better than ever. He almost considered staying for the entire term of the bargain, treating it as a sort of vacation.

  Almost. Boredom became the first problem. One could only sleep, have sex, and exercise for so long each day. Even if any radio or television signals made it into the valley, Alexandra did not own a radio or television to receive them. Nor did she own any interesting books. He managed to find a blank notebook and some pencils, so he drew or wrote a little. Alexandra often turned her nose up at his “little creations.” He tried his hand at cooking, but couldn’t get the knack of it.

  Lack of freedom came next. She obviously did not trust him to stick to the bargain on his own, as several women always hung around the yard, even while Alexandra was home. Back on the third day of his stay he opened a window and suddenly three of them stood there, glaring at him, their arms crossed over their chests. Based on past experience he decided he did not want to take a chance messing with them.

  With a degree of patience he never imagined he possessed, he continued to wait until the perfect time came. He started to worry that he waited for the impossible, that if he waited for the right time, it would never come.

  * * *

  The day started like any other. He awoke in his basement bed early in the morning, did his exercises, dressed, and went upstairs. The coffeepot turned itself on a few minutes earlier and released a steady drip into the pot. He poured himself a cup and walked over to the window. He held his mug up in salute to the two women in the yard. As usual, they only glared at him.

  He sat down at the table to wait for Alexandra to come downstairs to cook breakfast. She banned him from the kitchen after his last meal disaster. A grease fire nearly took out the curtains of the small window over the sink. It felt almost like being married again. He fidgeted impatiently, finished his coffee, and poured himself another.

  At seven o’clock came the changing of the guard. Four women replaced those that stayed overnight. One glanced over at him and nodded curtly. His first impulse was to flip her the bird. Instead he returned the nod and turned back to his coffee. At twenty after he started thinking about trying to make breakfast himself.

  Finally he heard footsteps on the stairs. From where he sat he could see through the living room and the railing onto the stairs that descended toward the front door. He saw her bare feet, followed immediately by her bare legs, and, ultimately, her bare bottom. Totally nude, she rounded the banister and flashed him a broad smile.

  Uh-oh, he thought. She wants an early start today.

  “Good morning!” Her voice rang melodiously.

  “Morning,” he replied cautiously.

  Outside, the women saw her and respectfully turned their backs. Lately it was rare that Alexandra made love to him in their sight, but he never caught them sneaking a peak when she did.

  “Today is a very, very happy day,” she sang. She raised a finger into the air and turned it lazily. Tim’s chair twisted beneath him, slowly turning him to face her.

  “God I
hate it when you do that. It creeps me out.”

  Used to his quips, she ignored him and climbed into his lap. She draped her legs over one side rather than straddling him. “We have cause for celebration.”

  “Oh?” he asked. “It’s not my birthday. Let’s see…Why, is it your birthday?”

  “No.”

  “Is it…set your captives free day?”

  “No.”

  “Well then it must be the day all witches die. That would sure as hell make me one happy camper!”

  “Not quite,” she said icily. “But I will not let your poor attitude spoil it.”

  He sighed. Too bad. “Well, what then?”

  She traced a finger across his lips and jaw. “I’m pregnant.”

  “Really?” He was ecstatic, though not in the same manner as when he and his wife first conceived. Now he could now measure his time until freedom. Only nine long months…

  “Really,” she muttered, and pressed her lips to his. She kissed him until his hands caressed her sides and his penis poked the underside of her thigh. She then got up and pulled his clothes off and straddled him in the chair. So vigorous was she in her excitement he thought the chair would break beneath them. They came together, moaning noisily as he spent himself inside her.

  Afterwards she pulled off him and took a step back, spreading her arms as if presenting herself to him. “I hope you enjoyed it. Now get a good look. It will be your last for some time.”

  He jerked in surprise. “What?”

  She turned and headed upstairs. “We can’t jeopardize the baby,” she called over her shoulder.

  “No, we can’t have that.” If she didn’t want to threaten his only chance for freedom, that was fine by him. It just meant one less way to pass the time. He got his clothes back on, ignoring the stares and giggles from the women outside. He poured himself yet another cup of coffee, and, when he returned to the table, wondered what would come next.

  She did not stay upstairs long, and she started cooking some pancakes when she came back down. They ate silently. Tim had nothing to say to her and she knew it. Most of their conversations turned into arguments anyway. Again, he might as well have still been married.

  This time, however, Tim gathered his courage as he dropped his fork on the syrupy plate. “So now what do you plan to do with me?”

  “The bargain isn’t over, if that’s what you mean,” she replied simply.

  “I figured as much. But I meant what do you plan to do with me for the next nine months if you’re done having sex with me?” What a strange question to ask somebody, he thought. Ten years ago, when he still played around with girls in the back of his father’s station wagon, he never would have dreamed of saying such a thing.

  She shrugged as she pushed her last bite of pancake through a small pool of syrup. “Maybe I’ll give you to them,” she said, jerking her free thumb toward the ladies outside.

  He checked out the slender curves of one woman. Not an altogether bad idea…

  Alexandra let out a throaty chuckle. “It’s not so wonderful a fate as you might think at first. You don’t know the women of Rapture all that well.”

  With a chill he remembered the way many of the women looked at him his first couple of days in town. Perhaps she was right. “Otherwise?”

  She pushed her plate away and rose. “Do the dishes. We’ll talk later.” She went back upstairs without another word.

  Tim sighed and shook his head. “I’m not a fucking maid,” he muttered, taking the plates and coffee mugs into the kitchen anyway.

  * * *

  Having been exempted from the nightly ritual of frenetic sexual intercourse, Tim took a long, hot shower and went down to bed early. He could not remember the last time he went to bed feeling so refreshed.

  Early the next morning, despite his deep sleep, a commotion upstairs disturbed his sleep.

  He listened for a moment to soft footfalls and murmured phrases, all coming from maybe six or seven different women. He picked out a few words, like “child,” “pregnant,” and “birth,” but could not make sense of the rest. A few moved from the living room to the kitchen and back. Twice within a few moments the patio door slid open and closed.

  Suddenly the basement door opened and a bright stream of light stabbed down into his room. He quickly shut his eyes and turned his head the opposite direction, doing his best to keep his breathing deep and even. He heard footsteps descend to within a few steps of the foot of the stairs before pausing and returning to the kitchen. The door clicked shut, cutting off the light.

  “He’s sound asleep.” Alexandra’s voice, unmistakable. “Let’s go.”

  The patio door opened again and he faintly heard the women filing out. The door closed behind them. Tim listened carefully, unintentionally holding his breath for perfect silence. After a few moments of listening he decided they left him alone in the house. Undoubtedly, this was not a chance he could pass up.

  He sat up, nervous anticipation building in the pit of his stomach. He dared not hope the guards left as well. No way would it be easy getting out. Besides, where would he go? What would he do?

  Get out of Dodge, that’s what! If he could get past the guards, all he really needed to do is find a car and beat it. He’d been here long enough, and maybe now that the witch got pregnant she would not be so hot to keep him around. Fuck her bargain. If she miscarried or did not have her special kid, then it’s her own problem.

  Tim pushed the covers off and dressed in the dark. Remembering how his heavy boots made quite a racket on the stairs, he held them to his chest as he crept up the stairs. At the top, he leaned low to peer through the narrow gap between the floor and the door. Moonlight illuminated the kitchen and dining room, reassuring him nobody stood in the kitchen or dining room.

  He opened and closed the door cautiously, crawling through the kitchen to keep out of sight through the windows. He leaned forward around the cabinets to peer into the back yard, and saw motion near the tree line. He pulled on his boots and weighed his options against potential consequences.

  He could always go right back downstairs, and Alexandra would never be the wiser. He would sleep until daylight and pretend nothing ever happened. If she caught him, she might see him as expendable because of the pregnancy.

  Even if he did escape, he really did not have anywhere to go. He had been out of touch with most of his friends for some time now, and had no access to cash or shelter.

  No, he thought. There would be time enough to worry about that later. This could be his only chance. She did make it clear she wanted him around through the baby’s full term in the event of miscarriage or some other unfortunate occurrence. The worst she would probably do is lock him back up in the house. Hardly something to fear considering she already treated him like a prisoner. The comment about being “thrown to the women” had to be an idle threat. Obviously they wouldn’t be stupid enough to hurt him, and he endured enough humiliation already that he would be calloused to whatever they could do to him.

  With a decisive nod he pulled himself to his feet and, still careful to stay low, surveyed the back yard through the window over the sink. Beneath the shadows of the trees a large shape continued to pace to and fro, then suddenly came closer to the house.

  Definitely a woman, he saw, but different from the others. As he watched her silhouette emerge from the shadows he could see she carried a girth nearly three times that of the other women. Her pale, pasty white flesh shone like a lamp in the moonlight and her thin, wispy hair blew freely in the breeze.

  “Not going that way,” he whispered to himself. He moved through the living room to the front of the house. Though he could not see through the drawn curtains, he heard two more women talking through an opened window. The speaker recounted a most unflattering attempt by her husband to get her pregnant with their second child, egged on by the occasional snicker by the other. Despite their distraction with their conversation, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to sneak by them. />
  He really needed a diversion. It did not appear to be far from the house to the trees. He could easily sprint it in seconds, so it would not necessarily have to be a great diversion. Near as he could tell, there were two ways out to the backyard: through the patio door and the through the cellar door. He guessed the cellar would be locked, and the doors might be too noisy and unwieldy anyway.

  He passed the door to the garage as he explored his options. He stopped beside it, realizing he never looked in the garage. She never forbade him to be in there, he just never had reason to be. He slowly pulled the door open and slid through, careful to make contact with the cement floor softly.

  Tim stopped for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the greater darkness. A two car garage, it had two small roll-up doors rather than one wide one. Alexandra’s red Mustang sat in the nearest bay, and a tarp-covered vehicle sat in the second. Just beyond the covered car was a small door that opened onto the side of the house. Perfect.

  As he moved for it, however, the familiar contours of the covered car begged for his attention. He lifted the tarp enough to get a look at the front grill.

  The Camaro! he realized.

  He fought the temptation to throw off the tarp and hotwire the car to make his getaway. No way could he sneak this roaring beauty past his guards, provided they didn’t pounce on him as soon as he opened the garage door anyway. Assuming he did make it past them, the Camaro would be far too conspicuous on the way out of town.

  He dropped the end of the tarp back to the floor. At least now he knew where the car was. If he got out of town he could worry about recovering it later, maybe with the state police and the National Guard as backup. With a sigh he moved on, and with great care he opened the door. Only the softest whisper of the frame made a sound, just loud enough to set his nerves on end. He heard no reaction outside as he swung it all the way open.

  Unfortunately, as he feared, there was a metal storm door on the outside. On the other hand, luck was on his side, as the window pane or screen belonging in the middle portion of the door had been removed. He stuck his head out and looked both ways. Not seeing fatty or the women out front, he put one foot through the window. As he set down on the walk outside he carefully moved his body out, followed by his other leg. His heart pounded furiously as freedom fluttered within his grasp.