Children Of Fiends: Book 2 of the Of Sudden Origin saga

by C. Chase Harwood

  She pulled back and said, “ I wish I could still think of you as an insufferable chauvinist jerk. A handsome insufferable jerk.”

  “Thank you? You don’t have a clue how beautiful you are, do you?”

  Her mouth sort of fell open then she shut it again, pulling his face in for another kiss. The train car was not warm and he was thrilled when her cold hands wormed their way underneath his shirt to touch his skin. His fingers played with the elastic edge on her panties. She pulled back. “Okay. Hold on.” They both breathed hard into each other’s mouths. She whispered, “Can’t. We can’t. Timing… I’m… Dammit, I’m ovulating.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “How… very… scientific.”

  She smiled, “Fine. Bad time of the month. Plus I don’t jump in bed – no matter how much I want you. Besides, we’d have a potential problem if we did slip up. I mean worse than just getting pregnant. No babies. Not for this world. Not now.” She nodded in the direction of the sleeping twins. “Despite the fact that we have been able to control the bug, there’s still a chance that you and I would have one of those.”

  Dean smiled warmly and held her close. “Cold shower aside, you’re forgetting one thing. They sterilize us Halflies. Part of the deal. We can’t make babies. I’m kind of surprised that you haven’t been.”

  Eliza found herself suddenly conflicted and she laughed at herself on the inside. She didn’t dare make a child, yet she was somehow crestfallen that it would be impossible with this man. He kissed her again, keeping it gentle. She kissed him back and she felt her heart speed up again, her legs sort of going numb, scalp tingling, and they were back at it and she was lifting her buttocks so he could pull her panties down. She slapped her hand on his again, pulling her panties back up, saying, “Wait wait wait. It’s just – well, it’s not like we can just… do it. I mean, look where we are.”

  He chuckled and nibbled her ear. “Okay.”

  They chose not to sleep apart so they zipped their sleeping bags together and made their bed behind the partition. Dean took off his jacket and boots, but otherwise remained dressed. Like everyone on the train, it had been days since they had bathed (a water stop in Alabama having offered a chance to quickly wash up). The strong odors that the two of them shared seemed to intensify their attraction rather than prevent it. The right combination of pheromones served only to make them feel closer. In the back of both of their minds they new that this was a dangerous distraction, but like a person who becomes a smack addict after the first taste, Stewart Dean and Elizaandra Sherr became hooked on each other. As they lay wrapped together, they whispered their stories – life before Omega. Neither was a typical life. She accepted that he had led a violent one. He mentioned his brief marriage. “It was short. High School sweetheart. We almost never saw each other because I was away so much. We had a son.” He paused to let that sink in.

  Eliza said, “And?”

  “And he would be twelve now. He lives along the New York Strip, near Connecticut. We haven’t spoken since I became infected. I don’t know him past being a toddler. I have a picture from a year ago. After nine years, his mother, in a moment of kindness, sent it on his birthday. As far as my kid is concerned, I’m long gone. His mom and the man who looked after him died in a storm a week after she sent it. Another woman watches him now and I’ve finally completely lost touch.”

  She lay silently for a while and then held him tight. “I’m sorry. That’s very hard.”

  “But for the best. Until now, I never expected to get a reprieve.”

  “I wouldn’t hold your breath. All the experts, including myself, agree that I am not contagious, but that hasn’t persuaded the politicians to let me roam. No amount of science seems to overcome their fear.”

  “But MacAfee-”

  “MacAfee would have told you anything to get you to go on this mission.”

  He harrumphed and found her mouth, kissing her gently for a long time until reality tapped him on the shoulder with a wisp of Gretel’s mind probing about. Dean reached for his helmet, but Eliza stopped him, saying, “She’s dreaming.”

  “That’s worse.”

  “No. You can stop it. You just –” She tensed. “And here’s Hansel. They dream as one. They often think as one. It’s bizarre.”

  “Again, worse.” Dean was feeling himself being pulled into a strange landscape filled with light. A perfect star filled night in a jungle valley at the edge of a vast lake, and everything was dark but also lit from within. If not for a terrible foreboding, he would have found it beautiful. And then Eliza was there, her mind mixing with his even as they still held each other. For the briefest of moments they dropped their guard and in their minds anyway, they were making love. She moaned both in the room and in the dream. Dean was stunned by the reality of it. That this was playing out parallel to the children’s subconscious quickly snapped them apart, leaving them back at the edge of the ominous lake – where death, sharp, merciless death waited. Eliza, still trying to shake off the passion, despite the fear that was creeping into both of them said, “This is how you stop it.” Like an echo, the mental equivalent of the word NO shot out from her. It was a scolding tone and like a vapor being sucked back into the bottle, the children where gone.

  Dean and Eliza’s sense refocused on the environment around them: the rocking of the train car, the click clack of the wheels rolling over the tracks. She let her fingernails gently drag along his hip, whispering, “See. No need for a helmet.” She let his hands explore her until it became too intense, her hips thrusting of their own accord. She stopped his fingers as they slid below her panty line, holding his wrists. “Anyway, I promise if the children’s minds wander again, I’ll be there to protect you.”

  He smiled at the notion of this beautiful petite woman protecting him, and then he remembered her heroics back on the Ginger Girl. Without trying to sound condescending, he said, “Okay,” and pulled his hands up to her waist, acknowledging the need to slow down. “The children,” he nodded toward where the pucks slept and then looked down at the narrow space between himself and Eliza, “Can they sense us doing any of this in their sleep?”

  She unconsciously ran her fingers up and down his chest. “I don’t think so. I’ve experimented with interacting with their dreams. For whatever reason, they didn’t actually invade my thoughts. I was more of an observer that they only vaguely remembered when they woke up. Kind of a reverse of what happens when they are conscious. She paused and held her lips close to his, cupping his cheek, A moment ago you were in the dream, the jungle, and we were... you know...”

  He kissed her, breathing her in. “Oh, I know.”

  She sighed and directed his hand away from her breasts. “That was unprecedented. Until today, I’ve only share minds with the children. Something changed when the four of us were connected upstairs. That jungle. That place. It was too real.” She pulled away from him with a worried look on her face. “They’ve never been to a jungle. They have never seen videos of a jungle.”

  “Maybe in a book?”

  “Nope. Not really. Not with anything like the detail in that dream.”

  He brushed some fallen hair out of her face. “Ever the scientist.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “We should try to sleep.”

  “Yes, we should. But it was so real.”

  Dean found himself pressing his hips against her. “Very.”

  She smiled coyly and raised a finger of caution, then broke their embrace. They shifted so they were lying on their backs, holding hands, neither of them at all sleepy. For fifteen minutes they listened to each other’s occasional sighs and forced yawns, until Eliza finally said, “Fools.”

  “Hmm?”

  “This is foolish. I want to tear your clothes off and I don’t need telepathy to know you want the same. You of all people need to stay focused. This is going to be too much of a distraction.”

  “True. But here’s the thing. The cat is already out of the bag. Even if we tri
ed, we couldn’t ignore it. Better to embrace it and deal with it on that level rather than to pretend it’s not what it is.”

  She didn’t answer, squeezing his hand instead. They lay quietly for a long time after that, still listening for signs that the other might be asleep. She finally rolled over and whispered into his ear, “I need to tell you something.”

  Her lips brushing his ear sent a shiver down his spin and fully reawakened his desire. “You need to sleep.”

  “You know this already from the dream, but I just need to tell you that it feels like someone poured lead in my heart while at the same time filling it with helium.”

  “I like that. Me too.” He turned his face and they kissed without the added heat. Loving, giving, not taking. A little while after, they fell into a deep and contented sleep. Hansel and Gretel lay awake as the lovers drifted off, and for a long time they batted their thoughts back and forth, finally concluding, I like how it feels.

  Yes, but also disgusting.

  I didn’t know that humans had this.

  No.

  I wonder if pucks have this?

  I hope so.

  I hope not.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Benson AZ

  As was his habit, Dean got up before the dawn. He kissed Eliza just hard enough to let her know that he was leaving their bed but not enough to fully wake her. She gently tasted her lips and a slight smile spread across them as she rolled onto her side and continued to snooze. He pulled on his boots, walked past the sleeping pucks and went into the observation car, quietly stepping between slumbering bodies until he reached the stairs where he spotted Cookie getting the morning’s meal together in the galley. Once up top he was greeted by Sanders who offered a “Mornin’, Cap.” Corporal Kelly was in the room as well, working as the rear lookout, and he gave her a lazy salute.

  “George. Where are we?”

  “Like you expected. Just outside Benson, Arizona.”

  “Okay, radio Blakely and tell them to slow it down to fifteen. Crawl until light so we can see what we’re coming into.”

  “Aye, Aye. Pot’s on. Still got coffee flavored crystals from that Kroger outside of Dallas.”

  As the dawn’s dim light revealed the cold wasteland that was the never-ending desert, the low buildings that made up the meager skyline of Benson, Arizona came into view. As they approached the San Pedro River Bridge, Dean had Wen bring the engine to a stop just before the crossing. The water was high and moving fast. While he and Sanders inspected the bridge, Bill Wall, Maggie Tender, Naoto Kitta and Tom Murphy got off and quickly ran through their water drill, lowering a big hose down to the rushing water and working a hand pump to get it up into the engine, and eventually the canteen. Just like El Paso, it was a time consuming process and they took turns, two at a time on a double handle. Dean ordered a scout and Hernandez and Kelly helmeted up to head toward the town with Mr. Kile, Bishop and Cinders rounding out the squad.

  The scout team immediately took notice of how green things were. The train tracks ran parallel to Interstate 10 Business Route and they stepped up to the roadway to make walking easier. To their surprise, it appeared that a system of newer looking pipes had been built along the road leading back to the river. Dez brushed a light layer of dirt off one of the pipes. “Has to be post-Omega.” They eventually walked through a tunnel that led under the tracks and entered a residential neighborhood. A brief look at back yards had them stopping in their tracks. The pipe system broke off into smaller systems that led into the neighborhood. The backyards were filled with lush gardens. Hernandez keyed her mic. “Captain, you seeing my heads up?”

  Dean, who had been distracted by Cookie handing him a shopping list, pulled his visor back down. “Uh, got it. Wow. What the hell?”

  “And this.” Hernandez looked at a line where fresh laundry was drying. “There is a working irrigation system running down the highway from the river. We got a live population.”

  “No contact?”

  “None yet.”

  “Okay. Sit tight. I’m going to suit-up with Green and Palmer.”

  “Sir, the situation calls for you to remain with-”

  “Thank you, Chief. Sit tight.”

  When Dean and his team arrived, he noted with satisfaction that Hernandez had followed his order. She had spread her squad out, but they hadn’t moved any further forward. As a cat wrapped itself back and forth around KK’s ankles, Dez said, “Tame, well-fed house cat. No other movement.”

  Dean felt relief for the cat that Hansel wasn’t nearby. “We break into two squads. Leave me Cinders. You go down to Sixth Street, I’ll take Fifth and we work west block to block.”

  As they walked, a slight breeze caused a variety of movement: flapping laundry, swinging tree branches and bushes, keeping them alert. The cat stuck close to KK’s heals, mewing for attention. House after house exhibited recent occupation, but still no people. At San Pedro Street, Dean took note of a swimming pool that had been converted to a fishpond. Trout swam in lazy circles in the greenish water. He touched his mic and said to Dez, “Let’s start poking through some of these places.”

  The house with the trout pond had an outdoor barbecue converted to a full time kitchen. Loose chickens scratched around the surrounding yards. Dean and Green went through the front door first, followed by Palmer and Cinders. They worked their way through the modest house in a classic urban warfare room-by-room search. The cheap furnishings were clean and dust free. An unspoiled meal was laid out at the dinning table with places set for five. Dean scattered a few flies as he touched some stewed carrots. “Cold.”

  Palmer said, “Last night’s dinner.”

  They went through the house next door and the one across the street and kept coming across the same scene over and over: recent occupation with meals in various states, clothes, games, toys. There was no electricity, but candle making had come back into fashion. Some fireplaces still contained burning embers. Dez’s squad came upon the same things. Green climbed a telephone pole to get a look from a higher perspective. There were many chickens, a few cats and dogs and lizards skittering about, but not a single sign of people. The two squads reconnected in front of the Benson City Hall where a new looking American Flag flew at full mast. A search of the building showed a functioning space filled with the trappings of bureaucracy, but again no people.

  Dez said, “No signs of struggle, hasty exit, nothing. Like they were beamed aboard a spaceship.”

  Bishop blurted, “Way the world’s gone – probably what happened.”

  Dean said, “Dez, your squad keeps checking it out. Take Kile with you. The rest of you, round up a bunch of these chickens and whatever else looks good. Least we can do with this situation is get a few meals. Assuming that they survived those explosions last night, we still don’t know what or who is following us. I want to be out of here in an hour.”

  It was when Dez’s squad had finished searching the town and was heading back to the train, that KK saw the movement. They had been through dozens of houses, block after block, and had found nothing but life abandoned. Nearly every home lacked a basement, but as they passed one of the oldest houses in town, KK spotted a dimly lit face in a ground level window. “Contact. Basement window at our ninety.” The squad quickly broke into cover. From various angles, they used their helmets to zoom in on the basement window. The devices enhanced the image so that they could all see the face of a young girl standing three feet back, mostly in shadow. The girl looked terribly frightened while clutching a rag doll to her chest. Dez said, “I’ve got a girl, maybe nine or ten. Anybody see anyone else?”

  They entered the house from both back and front, leaving Kile on the street as look out. The doors had been locked, but the frames were feeble, leaving a single well placed kick to act as a key. Just like all the others, the house had been recently full of life. A quick sweep confirmed that the ground floor was empty and they met up at the basement door. Dez decided that
KK was the least frightening of the bunch and put her on point. The door was locked so Kelly stood to the side out of any potential line of fire and called out, “U.S. Army. You are safe. Will you please open the door?” She waited for perhaps ten seconds for a response and called out again. “I’m going to open this door. It’s going to be loud, but we have no intention of hurting you.” She waited for ten seconds more and looked at Dez who nodded to go ahead. A swift kick sent the door slamming wide open. Kelly peered around the corner. Everyone’s rifles pointed at the black hole that greeted her. Kelly called out, “Hello? We are friends. I repeat, we don’t want to hurt you. Could you please come up?” They waited in silence for perhaps thirty-seconds more and then Dez gave her a tap on the back. KK said, “I’m going to come down, okay? My name is Katherine. Can you hear me?” Nothing. She began her decent, with Bishop behind. She turned to him and said, “Give me some room to go down first. You might spook her.” The stairs were stereotypically squeaky, with each step causing an inner groan for Kelly. The helmet lit the darkness around her with a greenish glow and when she reached the floor she had to duck so she wouldn’t hit her head on low hanging pipes. In addition to a washer, dryer, hot water heater and furnace, the room was filled with the stored cast offs of American life. “Everybody seeing this?” asked KK rhetorically. “Bishop, stay on the stairs.” She started poking around a pile of boxes, looked behind the hot water heater. “Hello? It’s okay. You’re safe.” The dryer was empty and then she spotted the freezer chest. A glance at it told the tale; a hole cut in the door with a mesh screen over it. Clearly it was made to hide someone and not suffocate them. Kelly stepped to the machine and said, “I know you’re in there. I promise I won’t hurt you.” There was no response. “My name it Katherine Kelly. I was also a frightened little girl once. What’s your name?” Nothing. “I’m going to open the door, okay? I promise that you’re safe.” She reached out while holding her head back. Training for booby traps had her bracing herself like she was about to be blown to pieces. She lifted the door – and the freezer was empty. Smash! Behind her glass broke and she spun around to see the girl climbing a tool bench, knocking over jars of nails and scrambling out through one of the windows.