by Clare Murray
No wonder they preferred to share a woman. Mari trundled her oilcan a little farther along before setting it down at Gareth’s direction. Then they walked back to fetch more cans. He kept shooting her looks, but said nothing as they worked.
“What is it?” she finally asked.
“Does it make you uncomfortable?”
“What, that you feel everything Finn does?”
“Yes. The…sex part of that. Some women say we’re voyeuristic.”
Mari blinked. “But you can’t help it. You’re wired that way, always connected to Finn. It affects you more than me, anyway, but anyone calling you a voyeur is wrong.”
His oilcan crunched in the gravel at the end of the runway. For a moment, he was quiet, and Mari turned to look anxiously up at him as he studied the skies. Had she been too direct? For that matter, was she handling this relationship—relationships, she amended—in a correct manner? She’d only ever had Tim Johnston on her radar, and he’d never sparked anything. Certainly not the storm the Twins provoked within her.
She was on the cusp of asking whether everything was all right when Gareth turned to her, his green eyes holding a tender look that she rarely saw in him. “Thanks, Mari. I guess that voyeur comment has been eating away at me for a few years. Come on, let’s go sit down. We’ve done everything we can for now.”
A few minutes later, seated between the Twins, Mari felt cozy, comfortable and protected. They were calm, if alert. She couldn’t help testing herself for any vestiges of panic, but her heart rate was only a little bit elevated, and she was feeling downright levelheaded. Patrice and Tank perched on an old battered bench nearby, the former making occasional acerbic comments about the state of the City. Mari listened, occasionally cracking a smile at a particularly witty comment.
At the other end of the airfield, a small group of people occupied the former air control tower. Gareth saw where she was looking and draped a companionable arm around her shoulders. “Those refugees are from the train station. I dropped them a quiet word and they chose to come here since they were last in line. The soldier managing the platform said there was a chance they wouldn’t be able to fit on the last train.”
Finn frowned. “Yeah, thought I told you to get single, able-bodied men. There’s a woman in there with a baby.”
“Then she’ll have to board first,” Gareth said. “I’m not turning anyone away.”
“Even her?” Patrice nodded toward a woman sidling through the broken airfield gates.
Finn shook his head as the woman drew closer. “Junkie.”
“Hey.” Gareth’s sharp tone surprised them all. “She might have had an addiction in the past, judging from the state of her face and body, but that woman was right there helping out last night. Couldn’t say the same for some of the soldiers. So if she wants a place on the plane, she can have one.”
“Fair enough,” Patrice said. She got to her feet, waving her cane at the woman until she changed direction and hesitantly approached them. She clearly recognized Gareth, dipping her head in a quick nod.
“You’re welcome here,” Gareth told her. “I won’t forget the way you lit that fire and called out that countdown to dawn.”
“I hope it helped,” the woman said. Her face was blotched around the mouth, a clear sign of addiction to Turquoise, although upon further scrutiny, Mari noticed the marks were older and scabbed over. “I couldn’t sit and do nothin’. You really mean that about me being welcome?”
“Yeah. Plane’s due at twilight, so as long as you hop on quick, you’re good,” Gareth said.
“Thanks. I really appreciate that. The train guard said there was no more room for anyone on the last one. He told me to check here.”
“How many people are stranded?” Finn got to his feet, brushing off his jeans.
“Only a handful, and I came here with them. Then, of course, there’s those that are staying in the City. They’ve holed up in the basement of one of the big buildings, boarded it right up and taken their drugs and bags inside with ’em. I don’t think you got a shot at convincing them to come out.”
“Are there any children in there?” Mari asked.
“No, purely adults. They’re responsible in their irresponsibility.” The woman shrugged. “Some other folks went to the gates, driving their own cars. A handful went with the guard in that armored truck of his, but I could tell he didn’t want me in there, so I came here.”
“We’re heading to Antarctica, you know,” Finn deadpanned.
“Pull the other one. Aren’t there sleeping aliens there?”
“That’s the theory, although they might not be sleeping any longer.” Gareth tucked a hand into his pocket as he stood. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“I’m Kendal. I’ve been…in a bad place for the past six months, and I reckon that’s evident. So I’d like to thank you for letting me evac with you.”
“Don’t thank us yet,” Gareth said, nodding at the sky. Everyone’s gaze went toward the horizon, where the sun was large and golden—and rapidly descending into twilight. All conversation evaporated as the Twins began to light the oil in the cans. That drew the knot of people at the far end of the airfield over to them, and soon Mari stood in the middle of about forty nervous people, of which two were babies. They were quiet too.
The fact that she was sandwiched between the Twins went a long way to reassure her. Nobody spoke for long minutes, but Mari noticed that several people held weapons and were surreptitiously fanning out, ready to defend themselves to the last.
The sound of the cargo plane was a distant rumble, nearly eclipsed by the first howls of the aliens. The unearthly, ghoulish cries made her shiver, and Tank let out a hoarse growl. Gareth shifted, brushing against Mari’s arm as he peered upward.
“Gonna be five minutes before they land,” he said. “There might be incoming around that time, depends on how fast the fuckers can clear the gap.”
Mari looked at the horizon. The last glint of gold disappeared even as she watched, leaving the sky a mottled dark blue with a rapidly-dissipating line of pink. Her breath came quicker—she was both terrified and ready to fight. But not, she realized, in the throes of a panic attack. Her head was clear, even if her heart raced.
The cargo plane cleared the wall, coming in low and fast. There was a chorus of muttered curses when it aborted the landing and roared past for a go-around. As it executed a sharp turn, its lights illuminated the pale forms of Barks running through the City.
“Bastards must have holed up nearby to get here so quickly,” someone muttered.
“Or they’re developing a resistance to UV light,” Kendal quipped. “Which is just what the world needs.”
The plane’s engines roared, drowning out further conversation. Mari was suddenly propelled forward as the Twins half dragged, half carried her along, running toward the end of the runway where the cargo plane ground to a halt. Its rear compartment opened, and a complement of soldiers jumped out, all wielding lasers and bright, UV headlamps.
As Mari ran, several men pointed their lasers right at them and fired. The world seemed to implode as she slammed into the cracked concrete of the runway.
Chapter Nine
She scrambled up, half-blind, her knees and hands stinging from impact. Men and women—and a child, God, why was a child here?—screamed and yelled. Laser beams scorched the air.
Yet they weren’t aimed at them, but over their heads.
Mari looked back at the group of Barks facing them from the other side of the airfield. Only half a dozen, but they were all the larger-sized leaders, each as big as a draft horse and twice as mean as the most vicious dinosaurs in Jurassic Park. They snarled their challenges, the sound rippling through the rapidly cooling air.
To her horror, Finn and Gareth faced off with them. And the aliens’ attention was focused solely on them—on Finn, in particular
.
Patrice tugged at her arm. “Hurry! Get in the plane! They’ll come when they can.”
Mari took a few steps toward the plane, where soldiers—Twins, she now realized—were helping people get in and strapped down. Two of them headed toward Finn and Gareth, their expressions grim.
Mari looked back again, her steps faltering. She saw the danger a moment before one of the other Twins called a warning. She was already running as the man yelled, pouring all her energy into reaching the men she loved.
By the time she was halfway down the runway, the largest alien leader had cleared the wall, sandwiching the Twins between him and his companions. His tattered jowls flapped a grisly reminder that Mari had tried and failed to kill him once. He didn’t even bother looking her way.
“Mari, get back to the plane. Now!”
Normally, she would have obeyed Gareth, especially given his furious tone. Now she stood her ground. “Give them the device,” she yelled.
“What? No.” That from Finn, who half spluttered it.
“Throw it into their ranks. You have to. That’s the only way they’ll let us go.”
“She’s right. If there was enough firepower in the plane, they’d have opened up on them by now. But there’s only two sets of Twins along, and they need to concentrate on protecting the plane.” Gareth kept his laser trained on the knot of aliens while Finn held the injured one at bay.
“Fucking hell.” Finn rummaged in his pocket. “I don’t want to let the bastards win.”
“They’ve already won,” Mari said. “It’s activated. They’re probably hard-wired to want it back, to covet it. Maybe whoever has it becomes de facto leader.”
One of the aliens snarled, setting off a round of guttural noises from the rest of them. This standoff wasn’t going to last much longer.
“Throw it,” Gareth said. “Let them fight over it while we run.” He raised his hand in a signal to the Twins watching at the airplane.
Finn took out the device with a curse. He threw the two triangles end over end into the middle of the waiting aliens. Mari, holding her breath, raised her own gun as the injured leader leaped. One of its six legs lashed out toward the Twins, and she shot. The bullet lodged in the creature’s pale body, but the alien hardly faltered.
It landed in the midst of its comrades, tearing at their flesh with its shark teeth as they fought over the device.
“Run!”
She had no idea which Twin shouted that, but she obeyed without even looking, sprinting toward the slowly closing door of the cargo plane. As she made the leap onto the ramp, the Twins grabbed her arms and hauled her inside. The plane was already moving, gathering speed. Just as the pilot lifted off, Mari found a seat, grabbing onto the straps as they lurched into the air.
When had she last flown? She racked her brain, unable to think clearly. They had vacationed in Mexico the year before the Invasion, visiting her cousins who lived near Tijuana, but that flight had been smooth, comfortable. Nothing like this. Gritting her teeth, she held on and breathed a sigh of relief with the rest of the passengers when the plane evened out and the engines quit roaring so loudly.
“Laaaaadies and gentlemen, please feel free to move around the cabin and partake of any food or beverages you can scavenge up. There may be some turbulence here and there, but we should be in Chicago within three hours. This is your pilot speaking.”
“Cam is such a joker,” Gareth said, but his lips tugged upward in a smile. “Come here, Mari. Brave, foolish, crazy Mari. What were you thinking, running to us like that?”
Gladly, she threw the straps off to climb into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as she nuzzled into him. “I knew you guys wouldn’t willingly give that stupid device back to them. From what I read of my father’s journal, I know the aliens are possessive, territorial and very stubborn. So they weren’t going to give up that device without killing themselves in the process. It was their dead bodies or yours—I chose neither.”
“Pacifist.” Finn settled next to them, draping one of her legs over his.
“I wish I had the luxury to be one.” She ran a finger down his cheek, shuddering at how close she’d come to losing them. If she hadn’t been there to order them to give the device up, they would have fought to the death. Their training was so ingrained in them, such a vital part of everything they did.
Yet they chose to share her, to take her back home with them, in direct defiance of the “avoid long-term relationships” order.
They needed her. And she needed them.
* * * * *
She must have fallen asleep against Gareth’s chest, for the next thing she knew, she was being carried through a labyrinth of dimly lit hallways. Voices sounded all around her, thinning out as they went farther in, until there was only silence. Since she was confident both men were with her, she closed her eyes and fell back asleep.
When Mari woke up, Gareth was still there, watching her sleep as he toyed with a piece of paper. His smile lit up the room. “Hey, baby.”
“Urgh,” she said, sitting up inelegantly. “How long did I sleep?”
“Twelve solid hours.”
She washed her face in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and spending a few minutes combing out her hair. When she emerged, Gareth nodded at the table with a slightly triumphant air.
“Is that a croissant?” she blurted.
“Yep.”
“Wow. You have connections.”
“The very best.”
Mari resisted the urge to cram the confection in her mouth. She savored the buttery pastry, sipping apple juice as she looked around the room. This must be the Twins’ private quarters. There were two double beds, a large bathroom, and a dining area with a very unused kitchenette. Judging by the view, they were on the second or third floor. The windows looked out across a large courtyard.
“Nice digs,” she said.
“Nicer with you in them.”
“I’m…okay being here, right?” She polished off the last bite of croissant a little reluctantly. She didn’t want to get the Twins in trouble.
“Yes. Finn’s in a meeting right now. He says certain things are changing—like the long-term relationships rule. A bunch of us are mad, and Dr. Felton’s betrayal took the higher-ups down a few pegs. Not to mention the fact that he’s screwed up so royally that the aliens might now be able to breed.”
Mari sipped the last of her juice. “I always wanted to change the world when I was a young girl. I never thought it would be like this.”
“It is what it is, Mari. We’ll deal with it. Together.”
She looked down. “Is everyone else all right? Patrice? The babies?”
“Patrice and Tank have a small room downstairs, with access to the outdoors for the dog. She’s talking to a couple of the Twins about possibly finding Abigail. Kendal asked to stay here too, work as a dishwasher. A few of the other refugees are in the infirmary, nothing serious though, and the babies are fine. Right now, the Complex is working on locating housing for the rest of the folks we saved.”
“Good.” Mari’s heart lightened. It was a start. They couldn’t help everyone—but it wasn’t for lack of trying.
“This is your home now, Mari.” He sounded uncertain, and she looked up immediately. He was staring at her, worried.
“I won’t run from here, Gareth. I want to stay with you—and Finn.” No matter how complicated the situation, that was true. She felt it deep in her heart. Anywhere with Finn and Gareth was home.
Gareth came over to her then, bending to kiss her, and she was lost the moment his mouth touched hers. Never losing contact with each other, they fumbled their way to the bed. Gareth cradled her against him as they fell onto the mattress.
“Didn’t you say Finn was in a meeting?” she gasped as she came up for air.
“Revenge is sweet.” He grinne
d wickedly at her as he tugged down her pants.
About the Author
Clare Murray was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, living aboard a boat in her early childhood. She has a degree in Journalism and has worked in libraries in both California and London. In 2006 she moved to England, where she now lives happily with her husband and two children.
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