by Eve Langlais
The dim light in the parking area showed only the expected storage inside, the wire shelves mostly empty. A pile of cloth sacks had cushioned the woman’s fall. But what of the treasure supposedly inside the vehicle?
Reaching the lip of the cargo area, he managed to get a better look at the woman.
Not as young as first expected, despite how she’d seemed when facing him. He noted her mature features, the lips full and a pale pink color. Her lashes were thick and dark despite the golden hair pulled back in a braid. Strands of it curled in disarray around her.
She wore a white robe, an uncolored sash around the hips to mark her. An unassigned Madre being moved in secret. Which, in and of itself, appeared odd. Most Madres were assigned to the Incubaii Dome in the latter bloom of their teens. Once they began breeding, they were rarely ever moved.
Unless they were valuable.
He watched as Vera heaved the woman out of the truck, sliding her from the sacks and laying her over a shoulder. Despite Vera grunting, he didn’t offer to help.
In Hill Haven, everyone did their part, and he never asked them to do something they couldn’t handle. Vera would be insulted if he implied otherwise.
But he did needle her. “Don’t get distracted if her eyes are pretty.”
“Don’t even think of saying that in front of Nikki.” Vera glared at him. “You know how she gets.”
He did know. Nikki had a hot temper where Vera was concerned. Yet another reason they needed to spread out. Nikki and Vera needed their own place. They all did.
Placing his hands on the edge of the truck, Axel hoisted himself inside, the height of it tall enough to allow him to stand. A press of a dome inset inside the ceiling turned on a light. Not a super bright light but enough he could search top to bottom. He found a few things.
A barrel of protein slop, which they tried calling by the fancy name, Minnilla. It looked like sludge. It tasted like shit. But in a world where gardens struggled and wildlife proved scarce, it kept them fed and healthy.
A top shelf revealed the newer heat panels. The ones being sent for rehab lined the bottom. He scored an emergency kit and tools. They could always use tools. There wasn’t much else other than a satchel in the front with a letter, the scribbles on it incomprehensible. He shoved it into a pocket. He’d have someone look at it later.
He didn’t spot a single loose credit nor any kind of special machine. Nothing incredible for trading. Just a woman.
The thought of her had him jumping from the truck to the floor and eyeing the direction of his room. Was she supposed to be the treasure? Who would buy her? Perhaps he should stick with his initial idea. Send out feelers and see what the price was these days for a missing Madre.
It should be noted he would never ever sell one of his own people. Slavery was a barbaric practice. But the woman he’d found wasn’t his concern. She wasn’t a Wastelander. Having encountered her type before, he knew she would probably beg for him to return her to the Enclave. She and the others in the Creches and domed cities all abided by their strange beliefs. To them, a lack of freedom seemed preferable. They feared anything outside those sanitized worlds. Only a few citizens ever broke from the Enclave’s control looking for a different kind of life. For freedom.
As Axel rolled down the door to the rear of the truck, Vera returned, looking quite happy with herself.
It brought a groaned, “What did you do?”
“Don’t worry, boss. I took care of it.” She retrieved her rifle and sauntered to her post.
He followed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means the woman woke up when we got to your room and screamed. Acted as if I was some kind of demon.”
He could almost predict what she’d say but asked anyway. “How bad is it? Can she still talk?” Too much bruising and he’d have to delay any sale.
“She’s fine. Just a little tied up right now. Gagged, too, mostly because her pathetic pleas made me sick. Why are dome citizens so weak?”
“They haven’t had to grow up like we did.” Out in the wild, where everything wanted to kill you, only the toughest made it to adulthood.
“So glad my parents ran away from the factory.” An assembly line position that simply involved watching over machines doing some work. Every day. Until they died. They had the highest rate of citizens leaving.
“Did you injure her?”
“She won’t have a mark. She wasn’t hard to subdue. Which means you could probably handle the little virgin if you decided to set her loose for some fun.”
“Are you really encouraging me to rape her?”
“Are you not capable of seduction instead?” Vera rolled her eyes. “If you want to know who and what she is, getting close to her, making her think you’re friends, is the best way to get answers quick.”
“Or I could demand she talk to me.”
Vera gaped at him and laughed. “Do you honestly think that will work?”
“You saw what happened. She’s terrified of us. I say boo and she’ll be crying to tell me anything she knows.”
The claim was met with a snort. “You’re such a lying idiot.”
“Why?”
“Because you talk a tough game now, but you watch. You’ll get in that room, and she’ll bat her big eyes.“ Vera blinked furiously and pushed out her lips. “Then she’ll use a little girl wobbly voice and beg you not to hurt her. And that quick”—Vera snapped her fingers—“you’ll be inviting her to stay in Haven.”
“Oh no, I won’t. No more people.” He slashed a hand.
“We don’t have the room,” Vera agreed.
“Here’s to hoping someone wants her.”
“Someone will want her. She’s a hot number,” Vera said with a low chuckle.
“Brave words, given we both know if you so much as stare too long at her Nikki is liable to carve your breasts from your body and make you eat them.”
Vera grinned. “Yes. Yes, she would.” Spoken with utmost pride. “Guess the little virgin is all yours, boss.”
“Don’t call me boss.” A lost cause but he kept trying. “And what makes you call her a virgin?”
“Instinct.” Vera tapped her nose. “And the way I hear it, those in the Creche are encouraged to abstain.”
“And you think they listen?” He snorted. When it came to pleasures of the flesh, rules never seemed to get in the way. Some of the people he’d rescued over the years had been victims of lust. Or the illegal product of it.
“Don’t be surprised if she has a hissy fit when you go to bed with her. Virgins can be loud that way.”
“What do you know of virgins?”
“More than you.” She winked. “Who do you think used to rescue them from botched attempts by males?”
And they said men were cocky. “I don’t suppose you learned anything useful from chatting with our guest.”
“Other than ‘Don’t kill me’?” Vera arched a brow.
“I guess I should go handle this.” He grimaced. A fainting virgin. As if he didn’t have enough to deal with.
“Indeed, you should. You are the boss.”
“And who decided that?” he grumbled.
“We had a vote in absentia. You won.”
A glare in her direction didn’t remove the smirk.
“I don’t know why I was so unlucky as to be saddled with the lot of you.”
“Stop whining. More leadering. You have a woman tied to your bed waiting for you.”
“And what do you suggest I do about it?” Too late he realized what he’d said.
Vera’s smirk widened. “If you need pointers…”
“Might be time you went for a patrol in the Ajatarai Forest.” A wild place that ate the unwary. Quite literally. Even the bones tended to disappear. It took constant vigilance to live amongst its trees.
“Go ahead and send me away.” Vera tossed her head. “I could use the vacation. Shall I leave tomorrow?”
He scowled. “Tonight.”
“Thanks. I’ll grab my stuff.”
“This is supposed to be a punishment. Stop acting so happy about it.”
“I am simply accepting my just due with grace. I know what will make you feel better. You are a horrible leader. Oh, woe is me. Just horrible.” Said in the flattest voice as she sauntered away. She headed back to her post but not before offering a raised middle finger. With a waggle.
Rude. Very much her. And it brought a chuckle. “Leader my ass. No one here obeys me unless they want to,” he muttered as he headed for his room. Most were just as outspoken as Vera. But good people.
People he’d come to rely on and who helped him handle shit that concerned Haven. They had Benny of the kitchens and supplies. He also happened to know everything that occurred around Haven.
Vera was one of their fiercest members. He’d come across her years ago, fighting off a group of marauders. He evened the odds. She chose to follow him. Nikki came along a few months after.
Gunner was his field guy. He had a way of charming people, getting them to put down their guards—and was luckier than any man had a right to be.
The twins, found in the desert by Benny, were his dynamic duo. They could do just about anything.
Oliander was their doctor. He really needed an assistant because he spent a lot of time patching people up. Good thing he had that third arm.
Used to be Titan was part of their group, but an injury saw him splintering from the crew.
Then there was Karlos. Thank God for him. Benny’s partner and a voice of reason, Karlos somehow kept everyone on track instead of killing each other.
A good person to have in tight quarters. Not for the first time, Axel admitted they had to move. But where? The question that plagued him. Where could they go that would fit them all, allow them to survive and even grow?
All the decent places were already taken. So either they had to carve themselves a new home or steal one from someone else. Both had their drawbacks.
No one stopped Axel as he strode along the hall, but he did see nods of acknowledgement from those who perused his passage. He returned them. He never ignored the people who put their trust in him. Complacency would kill.
He climbed the stairs to the second level, a shelf on stilts separating it from the floor built from scrap salvaged in the other humps. He aimed for the ladder that led to a catwalk crossing overhead to the center of Haven and a metal box suspended over it all. It wasn’t much to look at with all its mismatched parts, but he’d come back from a mission to acquire goods and his people had built it for him in secret. Even installed windows looking out and a door to give him privacy.
It almost brought him to tears because he knew it wasn’t easy to build, but they’d somehow managed, giving him a much-needed spot to hide away. To pace and rant and wonder how the fuck a loner ended up surrounded by people.
He stood outside the door and glanced out over Haven. The air up here felt cleaner, less thick. Just another indication that they’d exceeded their welcome. The vents probably worked fine; they just couldn’t keep up.
The lock on the outside of the door turned easily. It had been installed because sometimes they captured people and needed to keep them secure while they questioned them. Survival sometimes meant doing torturous things.
He remembered the first time he killed someone intentionally. How he closed his ears to their pleas. He couldn’t even argue he did it in self-defense, but it was for the greater good. That person would have brought harm to Haven. They couldn’t go free.
After the execution, it took him months to sleep at night. The screams woke him in a sweat. Eventually he mastered his repugnance at his actions. The nightmares never completely fled, but at least he could console him himself that he did the best he could to give them better than they thought they could have.
Most of them deserved a lot more.
Entering, he took in the room at a glance. The piled crates upon which were spread maps. Opposite, a table with mismatched chairs, for the times he met with the others, making the decisions affecting all these people.
Shoved against the far wall, a foam mattress atop more crates, forming a bed. A bed that wasn’t empty. Sitting with her knees drawn to her chest, her feet peeking from the gown, one foot wearing a white slipper, the other sporting only a sock, was the fainting woman. Once more that strange vibration hummed at the edge of his senses. It had to be coming from her but he didn’t know what it meant.
As promised, she had a gag in her mouth, the fabric stretched over her face but not digging too deeply into her skin. Her hands were tied together with a short length of rope looped to the lamp bolted into the wall.
At the sight of him, her breathing quickened. Panic filled her gaze. She scrambled, shoving herself into the wall as if she could merge with it. It wouldn’t take much to break her. A good thing for getting what he wanted from her but annoying that she would assume the worst of him without even giving him a chance.
“Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.” Not unless she made it necessary.
She blinked at him, and her breathing slowed a little.
“I’m Axel.” No point in hiding his name. “I’m the guy who stole the truck you were in.”
She stopped breathing.
“I have some questions for you, which means I’m going to take off the gag. Scream once, and it goes back in. Understand?”
She slowly nodded.
He reached for her, and she flinched. Jaw tight, he worked the gag free of her mouth and stepped back before she decided to take a bite.
She did nothing, just stared at him.
“Do you have a name?” he asked.
“Katannia.”
“Cute, but not your real name.” A wild guess that brought a scowl to her face.
He restrained his laughter at the attempt. He saw worse in the mirror each day.
“How would you know if I’m telling the truth or not? We just met.”
“Because you so obviously hesitated before saying it. So what’s your real name?” He’d need it to make inquiries about her.
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t. Which means if you keep being obstinate over even simple things, I might get annoyed and do something more drastic than tie and gag you.” He uttered the threat lowly as he prowled closer. Time she realized she didn’t control this situation.
“You’d actually hurt me?” She repeated it kind of dully.
He didn’t look at her when he said, “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.” Other than she was possibly more valuable alive than dead.
“My name is Laura.” Said so softly he almost missed it.
“You fought me over the name Laura?” He half turned to give her an arched brow. “I expected something a heck of a lot more unique. Longer, too. The kind of name no one can spell or pronounce. But it’s just an epic Laura.” He teased the name, and his lips curved.
It didn’t lighten her expression. “Where am I?”
“Nowhere.” His name he didn’t mind giving, but if he was going to sell her, then the less she knew, the better.
“What do you want with me?”
He couldn’t help but toy with her. “What do you think I want?”
Most women in the Wastelands assumed men wanted one thing, and they’d be right. Not this one.
“Are you going to kill me?” she huffed, panic quickening her breath again.
“Only if you annoy me. And you’re not going to annoy me, are you, Laura?”
“You can’t be doing this.” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “This can’t be happening. I’m dreaming. I’m still in the truck.”
Denial? That was a new one. He leaned down close enough that she startled and lifted her head. Their gazes locked. Her eyes were an interesting shade of brown, dark fading to light but hinting of mauve.
With her attention on him, Axel stated, “You are very much awake, and I want you to listen very carefully. You are currently my prisoner, which mean
s you will behave or bad things will happen to you.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why will you do bad things?”
Was she truly so innocent? Or did she play him? “Because that’s what I do.”
“Your job is to hurt?” she hiccupped.
“Sometimes. I do what I must to protect my people.”
“What people? No one can live in the Wastelands.”
“I’m living proof that’s a lie.”
“Says you,” she argued.
“Says me and everyone else that lives out here. Which now includes you. Hate to break it to you, but you are in the Wastelands.” Her expression brought a chuckle.
“Not technically since we’re not outside,” she observed, her gaze flitting around his room, still in denial.
“We are inside a shelter.”
“Not a dome, though.”
“Nope. We find it easier to hide underground.” Even as he hated it. The sense of being confined and cut off from nature where he drew his real strength.
“Like rats,” she muttered.
“I’d watch the name-calling, given you are my prisoner.”
Her nose scrunched. “I’ve committed no crime.”
“Perhaps not, but you do have information I’ll wager, which means you will tell me what I want to know or else.”
“Or else what?” she whispered.
“Or I’ll show you why Dome folk are right to be scared of Wasteland Rats,” he barked.
Threatening a woman. Vera and the others would applaud him for treating her as he should—despite her big eyes. But there was no honor in frightening someone so timid.
She hyperventilated as fat tears rolled down her cheeks.
He might have scared her a little too well. Time to soften her.
“Obey, and you’ll see things don’t have to turn out bad.” He produced an apple from his pocket. A shriveled lump of fruit, the mauve color of the skin turning dark, but a prize given how few their trees yielded each season.
She eyed it but didn’t reach. Could it be she didn’t know?
“I’ll trade you an apple for information.” He dangled it.
