Dark Future

by KC Klein

  So here I was, in desperate need of soap, playing P.I. as I staked out the showers in the heart of the men’s quarters. Of course, the word “COMMUNITY” wasn’t lost on me. I wasn’t a complete idiot, though one might not realize that from my current situation. I had no intention of giving a whole group of testosterone-laden men a peep show for free. Hence, my semi-brilliant plan.

  Nervousness flip-flopped in my belly as I hefted the metal chair high on my shoulder. I’d originally thought I could take my time to check the room and make sure it was empty and then slip in without being seen. I’d brought the chair—a stroke of genius if I do say so myself—with the idea I could prop it against the door from the inside in case there was no lock. Growing up in a household of brothers I knew I could take a true three-minute shower. I’d be in and out before anyone, especially ConRad, found out.

  My plan would’ve worked, except I didn’t take into account how busy the hallway would be. There hadn’t been a second in all of the fifteen minutes I’d been standing there where there wasn’t some bone-brained man lounging around or running through. Didn’t these people have a planet to save? I wasn’t into making a spectacle of myself, and in a world of men, one thing I learned was never offer an open invitation if you weren’t willing.

  I was having second thoughts, okay more like third and fourths. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t tried other options. I’d asked Quinn where the showers where, thinking there may’ve been other women only showers, but she’d given me that “look” and pointed me in this direction. I don’t know, maybe goddesses here don’t stink, but I was a mere mortal and had sweated like a whore in church.

  The sound of booted feet had faded, and I did a cautionary glance. The coast was clear; but once I started, I’d have to commit. Swallowing hard, I made a run for it. I shuffled as fast as I could with arms full and a chair banging against my leg with every stride. Damn, but the hallway was long—didn’t seem such a distance from the safety of my corner. The sound of men’s laughter bounced off the walls a distance away. I didn’t have much time. I’d have to count on Lady Luck that the shower was empty. I opened the door and ran through. Come on baby, just this once.

  Lady Luck hated me.

  In another life I must’ve been her bastard stepchild because standing under a spray of water and a lather of suds was a broad back, a magnificent pair of buns, and thick, muscular legs that would’ve shamed a Tour de France cyclist.

  Time slowed to a crawl. The door slammed closed behind me as I saw his head start to twist my way. In my mind’s eye, I’d turned, opened the door, and ran down the hallway before I was even noticed. But reality was different. My feet stuck to the floor like all the swamp mud in Florida had contrived to attack my boots at this precise moment.

  My eyes widened and my mouth slacked open. My cheeks burned as an undignified squeak slipped out of my gaping mouth. Having such exquisite control over my vocal cords, I tried my feet. I turned so quickly I nearly knocked myself out with the door. Desperation had me seeing spots. I tried to find the knob to facilitate my escape, but the universe conspired against me . . . or maybe the damn chair, my towel, the soap, and everything else I was carrying.

  “Hey, what’s your hurry?”

  I knew him. We hadn’t been formally introduced, but I had seen him before working closely with ConRad.

  “Um, listen I’m sorry,” I said, holding up my hand as a gesture and feeling stupid because I was talking to a door instead. “I didn’t mean to barge in on you. I didn’t know anyone was here.”

  “Well, I’m not quite done, but I’d be more than willing to share.”

  Oh, I’m sure you would, buddy. I heard his cheesy smile even though I was missing the actual visual.

  “Ha,” I said, forcing a fake laugh. “Really, I’m okay.” I was still working on the door knob and becoming increasingly aware of how bad this whole situation could go for me. Being stuck in a small room with a naked man twice my size that I didn’t know was becoming progressively uncomfortable.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart. ConRad would never have to find out.”

  Like hell he wouldn’t, because I’d be the first one to tell him. The bloody door knob was stuck, how the hell could a door knob get stuck? “Do I need to remind you I am under ConRad’s protection?”

  And how’s that for my life. Less than twelve hours ago I was bristling under his high-handedness and now I was grabbing for it like a lifeline.

  “No, I got that, but sweetheart . . . ConRad’s not here.”

  How achingly aware I was of that fact. Then, as if I could summon him by mere thought, the door was lifted out of my hand and off its hinge. And there stood ConRad. He completely filled the doorway. He took the door and flung it down the hall. I heard it clatter what seemed like yards away. His feet were shoulder width apart, hands on his hips, his face a mask of pure rage.

  “What the HELL is going on here?” He didn’t yell, his voice was actually quiet as he spoke through clenched teeth, his lips barely moving.

  “She walked in on me, Commander, while I was here, just taking my shower.”

  Ahh . . . what a snake, he threw me under the bus, before I could even form a word.

  ConRad took two seconds to switch his gaze from me to the solider and roared “OUT!”

  I glanced in the soldier’s direction. I’d never seen a man move so fast. He grabbed his clothes, covered himself fig-leaf style, and scrambled out the door, but not without ConRad giving him a shove for good measure.

  I looked on with longing. I too wanted to make an escape and peered around ConRad’s shoulder to check the possibility. Horror flooded my brain as I realized the entire command center was behind ConRad ogling the scene before them. A few soldiers in the back were actually jumping on other men’s shoulders trying to get a better view.

  Thick, hot embarrassment settled on me, causing a low roar in my ears. God, let this be it. Let my life end, let the floor open and swallow me whole.

  “I asked you a question,” he growled.

  “I . . . I . . . I” Was that me stuttering? For Pete’s sake, Kris, just spit it out. You have nothing to feel guilty about. But my tongue disagreed, sticking to the roof of my mouth. I swallowed hard and tried to dislodge the afflicted organ. “I was trying to take a shower.”

  “In the men’s shower?” he shouted. His body was rigid, a block wall of authority. ConRad had learned the art of intimidation well; he used it to control dozens of men with a mere withering glare. But I wasn’t under his command. Besides, his tendency to control brought out my tendency to rebel.

  “It’s a community shower!” I shouted back.

  “It’s a community of MEN!”

  He had a point, but a small one in the face of such need. The silence stretched a bit past uncomfortable, until I realized he was waiting for some type of rebuttal. The truth was I couldn’t think of a single answer that made any sense. That is well, except the truth.

  “Well, what did you expect me to do? I haven’t taken a real shower in over a week and . . . and it’s starting to become obvious.” I clutched my shower accessories as one would a security blanket.

  “What?” He seemed baffled, my explanation beyond him.

  “I am starting to stink. I can barely stand myself and if you weren’t so self-absorbed, you would’ve helped me with my dilemma before it got to this.”

  With that there was a bark of laughter from the peanut gallery. ConRad, just seeming to notice we had an audience, turned around and glared at the men behind him. Bodies went flying in every direction, and within seconds we were alone. I didn’t know if that was better.

  “You can’t take a shower here,” he said. I could hear the sound of teeth grinding together. I am sure he’d be eating flecks of enamel for weeks to come. He took a deep breath, as if drawing from patience he didn’t know he had. I could sympathize.

  “You don’t seem to grasp how precarious your situation is. I’m trying to fight a war that could determine the existenc
e of the entire human race, but instead I hear shouts ‘there’s a woman in the men’s shower.’ My entire command disappears. Instead of trying to catch the enemy, my men are trying to catch a peek of a naked woman. I had to wade through soldiers ten deep just to get to this door.”

  Well, the mystery of the jammed door knob was solved.

  “These men are holding on by a very thin, very frayed thread. They all know their lives are short lived. Many of them have never been with a woman, much less seen one naked. So when one seemingly extends an open invitation, there’s only going to be trouble.”

  “It wasn’t an invitation,” I shouted. “It was an accident.”

  “Do you think they care?” He shouted back. “Hell, they’re willing to take anything they can get.”p>

“So what? Women are not supposed to take showers here?”

  “Well, you don’t see the goddesses taking showers here, and they’re not stinking up the place.”

  I sucked in my breath. His comment aimed true. Did my embarrassment know no bounds? “Fine then. So what does a goddess do?”

  “Hell if I know. Do I look like a goddess?”

  “Well neither am I, you ass!” I was so pissed I threw the only thing I had as a weapon. The soap bounced off his chest, not even causing a flinch. We stood staring at each other, neither of us willing to back down.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so angry. All I wanted to do was rip his head off, and by the look on his face, he felt the same way.

  “Quinn!” He roared so loud dirt rattled loose from the ceiling. Before the dust settled I heard footsteps running toward us. We both looked out the doorway into the hall and saw a shocked Quinn skidding to a stop in front of us lose traction on the wet floor and slide right on past, crashing into the wall beyond. Quinn muttered an inappropriate curse, and I stifled a chuckle as she ungracefully stumbled back toward us.

  “Yes, Commander?” Quinn said as she tried to smooth her flyaway hair. Quinn’s antics broke the tension. ConRad ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Believe it or not, I held a little sympathy for him. He had no experience handling women, and I’m sure there was no rule book he could refer to.

  “I can’t believe this is my life,” he mumbled more to himself than anyone else.

  “Welcome to my world,” I said, my attempt at humor.

  He glanced at me. A small smile cracked his face. “Quinn, get her cleaned up.”

  ConRad took a step and reached out for the back of my neck, pulling me to him. He buried his face into the crease above my shoulder and inhaled deeply through his nose. With his lips brushing my traitorous skin, his husky voice sent a current through my body. “Don’t worry. You smell damn good to me.”

  Then he turned and left.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Quinn took me by the hand and led me down a flight of stone stairs. The passage way was lit with smoking torches, apparently the copper wires didn’t run this far below ground. At the bottom a cavern was hollowed out, and three small pools filled the room. Steam swirled invitingly above the bubbling water. Smooth black stones lined the pools. Farther back in the darkness was a small crawl space, but I couldn’t see where it led to. There was only a slight hint of sulfuric acid so I was hard pressed to know what smelled worse, me or the rotten egg odor. “What is this place?”

  Quinn took my towel and placed it on a rock ledge. “We call it the Three Pools. The first one is for washing,” she said, pointing to the nearest pool. “The second two are for soaking.”

  I stared in disbelief. Here was Heaven, smack in the middle of Hell. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  Quinn shrugged that careless one shoulder shrug. “You didn’t ask.”

  I shook my head. “Ahh . . . yes, I did. Remember I asked where the showers were?”

  “Men shower; women bathe.”

  And our communication barrier strikes again. “What about those?” I asked pointing toward the small tunnels. “Can anything—and by anything I mean aliens—get through?”

  Quinn shrugged. “They never have.”

  “Ah, the comfort you bring, Quinn.” But I decided to take a page from her book and not worry about it.

  Quinn smiled and headed up the stairs. It took three washes for my hair to feel clean. After a long bath I soaked until my skin was wrinkled and waterlogged. Finally, I forced myself to reenter the real world. I dried, put on fresh clothes, and made my way back to the infirmary to check on my patients.

  Once in the infirmary I couldn’t help but stare at Zimm. He was up and around and taking solid foods, which was a miracle. Sari, on the other hand, was not experiencing divine intervention. Her vitals were weak—respirations were shallow, pulse thready, and her eyes had sunk, creating deep black circles in her pale face. Her bones were more pronounced, as if their sharp angheionsles could tear her paper-thin skin. I knew if I had a way to check, her blood pressure would be at a critical level. She had all the signs of intracerebral hemorrhage, but there was nothing I could do about a bleed in her brain.

  The day crept to late afternoon with minor cuts and bruises coming through the door. Either the word was out that I was a competent healer or there was leftover curiosity from the morning shower incident. I chose to believe the former, hoping I’d gained the trust of some of the men, at least enough to stitch up their cuts.

  I groaned and dropped my head onto my folded arms on the table. The day’s events had finally caught up with me. Couple that with my latest bout of insomnia had my eyes burning like coals inside my throbbing head.

  “Why don’t you go and get some rest? I can handle things here,” Quinn said. She’d left earlier and had gotten some sleep. “Things should be pretty slow the rest of the night, and if anything happens, I’ll come and get you. I promise.”

  Quinn was right. There wasn’t much I could do. So I left knowing my patients were in her capable hands and made my way to my quarters.

  I still wasn’t sure what ConRad’s schedule was, but I’d learned my lesson about walking in before checking. I knocked softly, waited, and then carefully cracked the door. The room was empty. I sighed with relief. The last thing I needed was another confrontation with ConRad. I wasn’t quite sure what my feelings were concerning the Commander. It was like a weekend in Vegas—fun while there, but afterwards, hung over and broke, the self-loathing begins.

  I pulled the rough blanket over my legs and threw my arm over my eyes. I needed just twenty minutes and closed my eyes in relief.

  The room was dark, but very familiar. The smell of roses and fabric softener told me this was my mother’s room, though I couldn’t see the slightly worn bedspread and antique cherry wood dresser. Even without the familiar scent I would’ve known where I was at. I’d walked this path a hundred times, maybe a thousand. At the far side of the room, the bathroom door was outlined with yellow light, a beacon in the darkness. My princess pink slippers didn’t make a sound as they stepped on the thick carpet. I told myself, like I did every time—stop, don’t take another step. Maybe this time I’d listen. But even as I screamed at myself to turn around, my child-sized hand reached for the tarnished gold doorknob.

  In a flash, I was on a cool beach. The sun shone bright and hot as it poured down from a brilliant blue sky. A clear turquoise ocean sung its lullaby as a cooling mist sprayed light kisses on my neck, arms, face. The mist lingered on my lips and coaxed them to part. A petal-like spray cooled my sun-warmed body. Chills spread down one side of my neck ae ok, nd arm like the effects of a good wine. I purred in the back of my throat, contentment—treasured and rare—spilled over me.

  The mist changed into fingers and restless hands—nips from sharp teeth, then soothing administrations from soft lips. A glow grew in the base of my belly and spread warm like brandy. A sigh slipped past my lips and was caught by an opened mouth, hot and wet. In one kiss I was drunk—intoxicated by a single s
troke of tongue. The flavor of male sparked a connection to the heated pool between my thighs.

  Moans purred in my chest. This was like no beach I’d ever been on. My eyes fluttered open. No beach, no white sand, no swirling freaking mist. Just a solid mass of muscled chest.

  My brain hurried to assimilate the reality with my dream fantasy. An incredible glorious man lay on top of me doing things to my neck that was deliriously distracting. My body recognized him before my mind did. It was ConRad. His hard body pushed me into the rough military mattress bringing different parts of my anatomy alive with slow purposeful friction. Ahh . . . that friction—it fed an insatiable heat. The more friction, the more burn. My body was always such a slut, but my brain had saved me on more than one occasion.

  “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

  The question sounded more like a reverent plea than a shocked outcry. His mouth came down, effectively stopping any more prudent questions. Our mouths were open and hot. Tongues danced, licked, and tasted. I smelled him—raw, musky, primitive. He growled, and I responded to the command. My body arched to meet his, and my legs wrapped around his hips and back. His teeth gently sunk into the softness of my lip, while I ran nails down his naked back.

  Naked? When did he get his shirt off? And better question, when did I? All that was separating us was the thin cotton of his army fatigues. The barrier was not enough to placate my logical mind, but my body, on the other hand, wanted to rip it off with my teeth. My constant battle—sensible brain meet gluttonous body.

  “Wait . . . wait,” I said, breathlessly. This was too fast. I needed a moment to think, though he didn’t seem to hear me. He trailed a sequence of hot kisses toward my already sensitive breasts, and I knew if he made it to his destination, I’d be more than willing to go down with the ship.

  “Stop, damn it.” This time for emphasis I boxed the side of his head. It had the same effect of hitting a brick wall with a rubber mallet. Christ, he gave thick skulled a whole new meaning, but he did get jostled and raised up on one elbow to look at me. That was all I needed. With his momentum working against him I pushed hard, throwing him off balance. He landed hard, on the floor, withhe bow a resounding thud, flat on his back. The bed vibrated from the impact.