“I’m sorry,” he said, his joy drained as completely as if it had never existed. “I’d not realized you were unable to swim.”
“T-take me to the f-fire,” she said through chattering teeth, her body still wrapped around his. Even under such circumstances, a flame of desire had risen in him at her closeness, her desperate embrace. When her legs released their grip and she slid down him, the flame burst into a raging fire. He put her away from him in the water, although more than anything, he wanted to wrap her around him again, to possess her more completely than a Superior should possess a human no matter how much he’d paid for her.
“I…can’t,” he said slowly. “You know the way back, yes?”
Since he could not walk out of the water naked before her, he stood helplessly watching as she waded to shore, her underpants clinging, translucent, to her curves. Water trickled over her contracted skin. A dusting of the finest hairs covered her body, each one holding a miniscule water droplet cupped in its grasp.
When she had gone, he let himself fall backwards into the water, rigid as a tree trunk. He sank to the bottom, cursing himself once again for his carelessness—in what he’d done and what he’d allowed himself to want until he could no longer control the longing, and he had to admit it, own it, and conceal it every minute of every day he was with her.
*
After a time, Draven returned to the fire to find Cali sitting very near to it, wearing her woolen jumpsuit and a pair of his denim trousers. Her hair was a tangle of golden brown, hanging to one side of her shoulder and dripping next to the fire. She held a small branch of kindling with her underpants on it, swinging it back and forth over the fire.
He smiled when he saw her, but he passed her and retrieved his undershorts before sitting next to her. “I’m sorry, Cali,” he said. “I’m…very sorry. I hadn’t any idea, or I never would have…I’m only sorry. That is all.”
“I know you didn’t know,” she said.
“I will make food.” He retrieved his sunshades, as the sun was bright with morning. After pulling on clean clothes, he went into the woods, where he was violently ill, holding onto a tree and leaning over to vomit again and again until the foreignness of what he’d ingested was gone. When he’d recovered, he gathered green sapling boughs that were budding with tiny yellow-green leaves like the new grass. He brought them back, arranged them above the fire, and skewered some of the meat. Cali had crawled into the mummy bag and was staring at the fire with wide, blank eyes.
Draven busied himself with the day’s tasks. He washed his stained clothing, filled the pan with water and set it in the fire. He searched the woods until he found some edible plants, which he brought back, along with a few mushrooms. He then cut the green stems and leaves from some plants, adding them to the water along with some chunks of meat. When he’d added the mushrooms to the pan and covered it with the well-used sheet of foil, he turned to Cali, only to find her sleeping.
He repacked the fire with wood and hung meat to dry. He did not worry about predators as he had in winter. Once the forest had frightened him more than anything, but now it was a comfort, his only safety and freedom from others. Only in solitude with Cali did he feel safe, far from the city and prying eyes. If he killed Byron, they could stay a very long time.
And do what?
The thought was so sudden it startled him, as if it had come from somewhere outside himself. He rubbed his wrist absently, the pain having returned, though he’d hardly noticed such a small thing in his urgency to escape. Again he brushed the irritation aside. If they could find a cave for shelter, they could make a home there.
But suppose she was injured. He could feed her, but he had never learned the plants best used for medicinal and healing purposes. Suppose she broke a bone and he was unable to set it, or one of the scratches she sustained so often became infected, or she was attacked by an animal, or poisoned by some plant. Dozens, perhaps hundreds of small things could kill a sapien, while only two could kill a Superior.
When Cali awakened, she struggled from the mummy bag like a thing being birthed. The fire and sun had warmed the black bag, and inside it, she’d worn the woolen winter suit. Sweat plastered her hair to her face, and she stood shaking her limbs and pulling at the suit, airing her sweat.
“I must take sleep,” Draven said, handing her the pan of soup. “Eat anything on the fire if you’re hungry. Wake me if you need.”
“Do you need to eat first?” Cali asked, sinking to the ground beside the bag that he’d already slipped into.
“Thank you.” He accepted her arm and ate gently, only taking a ration, as he suspected this was an offer of peace. Her sweet taste replaced the unpleasant one of animal sap and lingered in his mouth while he fell asleep.
When he awakened in the evening, he suggested they go on, but Cali was quite convincing in her arguments for staying another night. The meat needed to dry fully, and Cali wanted to bathe. Afterwards, she took sleep while Draven kept watch. As he sat by the fire, he whittled away at another stake, this one longer and with only one sharp edge. He threw the fawn’s bones over the ledge so they fell near the water, and later he heard two animals fighting over the scraps. Their growls made his skin cold, and he moved close to Cali and lay the knives across his lap. He used a bit of fat to rub the new blade until it shone like the fine knife he had used on his first kill.
In the morning, they packed in silence, Cali did her business, and they set out once more. At midday, Draven had to stop and rest, and both he and Cali ate before he took sleep. They were safe from most predators and Superiors during the day, so Cali came and lay beside him. When he’d drawn from her, she rolled towards him.
“Is it safe for me to sleep, too?” she asked.
“I imagine. Would you like to use the bag?”
“No, I’ll only sleep a little,” she said, rolling into the leaves beside it. That day, she’d walked a bit for the first time since her leg injury.
“Good day, then,” he said, and he slid into the bag and zipped it over his head. As he was sinking into sleep, Cali’s hand found his hip. He thought she meant to wake him, but she only lay beside him, not moving, until his mind went blank and he took sleep.
CHAPTER thirty-three
Meyer watched the green dot move away from Moines, towards Texas, at an infuriatingly slow pace. It was enough to make him think Byron had killed Draven and let the sap escape with the backpack. That suited him fine. The danger of Byron’s interest in him, Meyer, was slipping away. He was more than happy to help either Draven or the sap if it meant keeping Byron’s attention diverted.
Meyer checked his office one last time to make sure his affairs were in order before he left for Texas. He brought all but one of his girls with him. He liked to keep them near so he could keep eyes on them. Yes, they owed him, but sometimes people turned against their creators, their employers, their closest friends. He was all of these things to his servant girls. To him, they were a liability at times, his greatest asset at others. They knew the crime he had committed in their evolution. They all had papers, of course, and were now legal. But there was always risk in having witnesses.
Molly had been his first successful evolution, and he always felt a certain pride in her. She had returned to her own house now, but his mansion was much more luxurious, and he expected she’d rather live there than in the little stone house he’d bought for her. So he allowed her to occupy and watch over his Moines home in his absence.
Upon arrival in Texas, Meyer visited his beautiful friend Ginger at her sapien farm, read to his little group of saplings, and brought them treats. When he left, he took his favorite girl and boy for himself and one sap for each of his girls.
His Texas home was elaborate, full of wall screens and the newest gadgets and toys. He’d even had a 5-D theater installed in his absence over the winter. Now he invited his girls and sapiens to watch a vid, and they all accepted. The little saps screamed every time the robot knife-thrower lurched towards t
hem from the screen, and Meyer laughed as he slayed them. They were part of the vid and couldn’t hurt the girls, of course, but they crowded against him and hid their faces in his shoulders just the same. It was his duty to make them feel protected and safe, and it ensured their loyalty as well.
After the vid he checked in with Eva.
“I did it,” she said. “I did what you wanted, sir. It’s done.”
“See, that didn’t take long. Was it so bad?”
Eva shrugged. “No. It was easy.”
“How was it?”
“Excuse me?”
“How was it? Was she any good? Did you enjoy it?”
For a moment he thought she wouldn’t answer, but then she smiled a falsely bright smile. “It was fine, Boss. Of course I liked it.”
“I thought you would.”
“What now, Boss?”
“Keep doing it.”
“Oh—really?”
“Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. You don’t have to do the shagging again if you don’t want. Just earn her trust and keep it. You’re on the poshest assignment I’ve ever given. If you don’t like it, I’ll find someone else.”
“No, I like it,” she said quickly.
“Good. Now all you’ve got to do is be her mate. You don’t have to like her. You’re a paid party girl. When the time comes, and I need you to do more, I’ll let you know. If anything important happens before then, call immediately.”
“How do I know if it’s important?”
“Anything that happens is important. Put it in our private file on her so I can look over it. And stay there until you hear from me.”
“I’m not a prostitute, you know. I don’t have sex for money.”
“Of course you’re a prostitute. All Thirds are prostitutes.”
“How do you mean?”
“Most of us would do anything for money, wouldn’t we? If the price is right, you’ll do it. I’m not talking about sex, but anything. Most people are whores for something. You sell your time to me, don’t you, and your skills at PR, and your looks to get clients to do what you want. If you get paid for a service, aren’t you a prostitute?”
“Not you.”
“Of course I am. I’m the government’s prostitute. They subsidize my turbines, pay me to make them, and I sell my time, brainpower, and my cleverness. We’re all whores, Eva. Don’t forget it, and don’t be offended.”
“Of course not, Boss.”
“Now go have some fun with that beautiful, married woman. If there’s opportunity to get her talking about her husband, pursue it. And if there’s a chance for you to put in an opinion, make it negative, but don’t be obvious. You’re her skeptical friend who doesn’t believe in marriage.”
“I got it, Boss.”
Meyer shut her off and climbed into his huge bed with his little family of saps. He held a fat little baby until it pissed itself, and then he passed it off to one of his girls, who took it away to clean. Another little one squirmed into his arms in its place, and Meyer sipped off it contentedly as his thoughts returned to Byron. Almost as much as he loved his Texas mansion and his huge bed, he loved what he was doing to the Enforcer without any effort whatsoever. The man thought he could destroy Meyer by harassing him a little? Meyer could play the game even better. He’d show Byron how to destroy a man.
CHAPTER thirty-Four
Cali clung to Draven’s neck and tightened her legs around him. They had been walking for a while, and the trees had grown thicker and the hills steeper. Draven walked up each hill, but ran down the other side, which both scared and exhilarated Cali. Both his speed and the way he moved through the dark, never stumbling or even scraping her on a tree, amazed her. Sometimes she hid her face in Draven’s shoulder, sure he’d put her eye out on a branch. When the terrain grew rough, they had to climb over boulders, fallen tangles of trees, thorn bushes, vines, and briars. But tonight they were in deep woods, and the forest floor was mostly clear.
Draven leapt over a log, and Cali clutched tighter so she wouldn’t be shaken off when he landed, but like usual, his landing was gentle and his hands came back to support her weight. Still, she shifted downwards, and he boosted her back up. He kept running as he did this, and Cali regained her grip on his shoulders. If she’d been running, she would have been all sweaty, but Draven only got damp from the dampness of the air. He never got gross and sweaty. He smelled like wet leaves. Everything smelled like wet leaves.
It had rained earlier, and now the night was warm and damp, almost steamy. An eerie shrieking sound that made Cali’s hair stand up surrounded them, growing louder until her ears rang.
“What is that noise?” she asked after they reached the bottom of the hill and began along a flat space at the bottom.
“Little frogs.”
“Where are they? It sounds like the air itself is alive.”
“They live on the trees. They blend in with the bark,” Draven said, stopping at a tree. He took one of Cali’s arms from around his neck and stretched it out. She held out her fingers, and he touched them to a cool, wet thing on the bark of the tree. She could feel it breathing. When she tried to pry it away from the tree, it detached and leapt away so suddenly she jerked her hand back.
“You frightened it,” Draven said as he resumed walking.
“Why do they make that sound?”
“They’re singing.”
“It’s kind of…scary and lonely sounding.”
Draven chuckled. “Do not be afraid. They’re only frogs. They can’t hurt you.”
“I know that,” Cali said. “But they sound scary.”
“Alright,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced.
“You think I’m scared,” she said. “I’m not scared. It’s that ghostly noise.”
“I see.”
“What do they mean? Are they…a bad thing? Like bad luck?”
“No,” he said. “But I do not know much about them. They’re not big enough to eat.”
“You only know about things to eat, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So you did catch things for food when you were human.”
“Yes.”
“Why? Why didn’t people just raise animals to eat, like they do now?”
“They did.”
“Okay, fine. I was just trying to make conversation,” Cali said. He was always so exact about everything. It took ages for him to explain something.
“What can you possibly be angry about now?” he asked. “I’ve answered all your questions. I don’t go on asking a hundred questions a night, do I?”
“I’d answer them if you did. Why wouldn’t I? It’s just that I have nothing interesting to say. I’ve only lived seventeen years. You’ve lived hundreds. I’m just curious. You don’t have to get mad about it.”
“I’m not. I only don’t understand why you’re upset.”
“I’m not mad, either. I just wanted you to tell me.”
“Tell you what? You haven’t asked a question.” He sounded exasperated.
“I don’t know. I just wanted you to talk to me.”
“About what?”
“About this. Anything. Why you caught animals when you were human. And how. Where did you learn all that?”
“Partly from a book a woman gave me and partly out of necessity. You learn quickly when you haven’t a choice.”
“So you lived out here, just like now.”
“Yes.”
“You ran away? You were a runaway, like me?”
“Yes.”
“Who went with you? Did you have a Superior help you, like you help me?”
He chuckled again. “No.”
Cali thought about this. If she didn’t have Draven, she wouldn’t last from one round moon to the next.
“How long were you out here?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t count days or months. Perhaps three or four years.”
“You lived like this for three or four years?” Cali asked,
trying to comprehend how that was possible. Without a Superior.
“Yes.”
“With the woman you talked about? Who gave you a book?”
Draven laughed, that soft chuckle in his throat. She couldn’t hear it over the peeping frogs, but she could feel it under her hands and her chest. “No,” he said. “She was a Superior. I was alone.”
“Wait, you lived out here alone for three or four years?”
“As I’ve said.”
“That’s…incredible. You’re a sapien success story.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not one anymore, or I’d make everyone run away, wouldn’t I?”
“Is that why you were evolved?”
“No.”
“So what happened?”
“I was caught, of course.”
“And then what?”
“And then, eventually, I was taken to a blood bank.”
“You were in a blood bank?” Cali asked. She could hardly imagine he’d been human, and now it turned out they had all this in common. He was a runaway, and he’d gone to the blood bank like she had. All jumbled together, she felt sorry for him, admired him, liked him more, and respected him. Still, she couldn’t imagine a Superior in a blood bank. It didn’t seem possible.
“What was it like?” she asked after a minute.
“You were there,” he said. “You know what it’s like.”
“Yes, I do,” Cali said, squeezing him unconsciously with her legs. She still had the scars on her thighs. She didn’t have a clear memory of the experience, just the hazy recollection of being tired and sore and foggy all the time; of lying on a bed, going crazy with boredom, and having to drink lots of water and vitamins.
“How’d you get out?” she asked. “Did you escape and run away again?”
“They let me get strong for a bit, and then they evolved me.”
“Why?”
The Fugitives, A Dystopian Vampire Novel: Book Four: The Superiors Series Page 18
