Wild Wastes

by Randi Darren

  Her choice had been only two possibilities. To accept that banishment, or fight them to the death to claim her place as the leader.

  She’d allowed herself to accept the banishment. Taking what little possessions she had with her she set out.

  Unfortunately she’d met nothing but misfortune. Water came to her easily, and she’d always been able to find it readily enough. Food had been another matter altogether. She had no formal hunting experience.

  By the point that she’d gotten the basics down from trial and error, she hadn’t the strength or time to spare anymore.

  Gathering fruits, berries, and wild vegetables didn’t fill her stomach either. It left her wanting more. Craving protein.

  She was an Orc warrior with an athletic body.

  She had a need for meat that she couldn’t ignore at a racial level.

  Her plan had been to steal their meat when they fell asleep. It wasn’t until Marcus had spotted her, and Vince had sprung over with weapon in hand, that she’d changed her plans.

  Giving his head a shake, Vince returned to his own mind. Dark black eyes gazed up at him, waiting. They were large eyes. To the point that she nearly had no whites.

  Willing his arm to move he wanted to separate her head from her neck and be done with it.

  And he couldn’t.

  He’d killed quite a few wasters. No small number of Orcs.

  And he couldn’t.

  Gritting his teeth he felt his heart deny him the ability to kill her.

  She was too human now.

  He knew her.

  Her skin was green, and she had a set of tusk, her strength was higher than a humans, pointed ears, but other than that as a race they shared more than they differed.

  Instead of letting his thinking go further, or killing her, he untied the pouch of rabbit meat on his hip and dropped it into her lap.

  Dislodging the sword from her flesh he carefully slid the edge from her throat. He watched her for a few seconds without really seeing her.

  Slowly he lifted his sword up and wiped the blade clean on the edge of his tunic. Her blood smearing the fabric in a bright red streak.

  Deliberately, he sheathed his sword and then began to take slow cautious steps back from her.

  Her eyes darted from him to the sack and then back to him.

  Holding up his hands, empty hands, he took another step, and then turned around. Putting his back to her.

  Calmly, slowly, he walked out of the trees and back to his companions. They had a number of months to go. He’d have to catch more wild game tomorrow.

  They had more than enough dried rations for a bland but filling meal.

  Most of all, he knew without a doubt the Orc woman wouldn’t trouble them further.

  Chapter 2

  They’d spent longer in the central Wastes then he wanted. Marcus managed to hurt himself climbing a ruin foolishly. It forced them to a much slower pace for far too long.

  Their destination was Jacksonville, down in what was once called Florida.

  Whatever Jacksonville had been in it’s past life, it was more of a fort now. A city perched on a shore that they didn’t dare leave. The fear of the monsters that inhabited the deep waters kept humanity land based.

  Vince and his wards had yet to cross the Mississippi river but they were only a few hours from one of the few maintained outposts in the Wastes.

  The Wastelanders were on both sides of the river of course, but for whatever reason, their presence on the eastern side of the river was diminished. The wasters that could be found past the river were typically far closer to human in appearance and temperament.

  Vince was on high alert because they were so close to the river. The few times he’d had a true brush with death had almost always been near the river. Local wasters had figured out a long time ago that humans would cross the river. And only in certain places.

  Many had begun treating it as a predator would a watering hole.

  Wait, watch, ambush.

  Marcus and Gator were chatting amicably as they walked along the dirt path. Vince hadn’t wanted to risk much and so had them taking a back brush path rather than the patrolled and more frequently traveled road.

  He’d already tried to hush the two men several times and had finally given up. They spoken in hushed voices but seemed unable to remain silent for any length of time.

  Drop’em off, get our pay, get to the board, pick up several courier messages, get back home.

  Vince couldn’t deny he was looking forward to a return to his little home on the edges of wasteland territory.

  In fact he’d privately cursed himself almost every step of the way on this agonizing escort job. He promised himself over and over again he’d never do another one after this.

  At least until I can’t get a courier job. Again.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d promised himself such a thing. Nor did he doubt it to be the last.

  Vince’s ears picked up the sounds of someone, or something, crashing through the bushes off to their right. Heading right for them.

  Only thing off in that direction is swamp.

  At that moment a group of reptile-men burst out of the brush, growling and hissing. They were on the nastier side of the waster population.

  Wasters could be anything really. From undead to elementals. Creatures that more resembled Humans with animal traits and monsters that looked more like animals on two legs.

  These were the monsters on two legs version. They truly looked like alligators on two legs.

  And to Vince, they looked as if they knew what they planned to do before having even seen the humans. All six of them were already moving straight for Marcus and Gator.

  Unsheathing his saber Vince stepped off the path and into the way of the six assailants.

  “Make for the crossing. Don’t wait. Go,” Vince hissed bringing his blade up. Marcus and Gator took to flight, their booted feet pounding at the dirt as they listened immediately.

  If they could have listened when I told them to shut up, that would have been great. This is why I don’t do escort missions. I could outrun these damn things.

  The alligator-men clutched small crude weapons in their scaly paws. The lead attacker leapt at him, forgetting the weapon in his hand and looking to try and clamp his massive jaws around Vince.

  Stepping to one Vince flourished his blade. Separating from it’s neck, the gator-man’s head tumbled to the ground, it’s body slapping into the ground.

  The second gator in line tracked Vince and came in swinging. It was a low swipe, aimed for Vince’s knee.

  Sliding back a step and then darting forward Vince unleashed a piercing strike. Skewering the reptile between the eyes it went limp and nearly took Vince’s sword with it.

  Unfortunately the third opponent attacked Vince before he could recover from slaying the second.

  An obsidian dagger was slammed into his shoulder above the line of his leather armor chest guard. Then it was ripped out of his shoulder with a vicious jerk.

  Before Vince could respond the fourth leaned in and clamped it’s wide mouth around Vince’s forearm protector.

  Growling, Vince managed to get his saber up and run it through the throat of the biter.

  Pushing off from the slumping dead weight of the dying gator Vince felt the knife sink into the side of his stomach.

  His foe had angled up under the edge of the leather armor. It sank in a few inches from his navel.

  Stumbling backwards Vince got his saber up into position again. The three remaining gator’s looked to him and then to their dead on the ground.

  Vince fell to a knee as his body started to give out underneath him. He wasn’t sure if the bastard had nicked something but he knew he was in trouble. He was sure he’d been in worse scenarios but none came to mind.

  Pressing a hand to his side for a moment he pulled it away to check his palm. It was coated in bright blood.

  Damn.

  Pushing his hand back i
nto place to try and staunch the blood Vince started to rise. A pulse of blackness washed over him and threatened to put him back to the dirt.

  A forearm came over the top of his head and clamped down around his chest from behind. A light green hand gripped tightly to his wrist, locking his weapon in place and began dragging him backwards.

  Looking over his shoulder he saw the profile of an Orc as the edges of his vision continued to darken.

  Damn, damn.

  Looking straight ahead as his chin began to feel far to heavy for his neck he watched as the living gator men fell on their dead and dying companions for a feast.

  As the last of his strength fled him he realized the Orc was dragging him deep into the bushes.

  Damn, damn, damn.

  Vince’s eyes creaked open then closed again.

  Alive?

  Slowly, determinedly, he managed to pry his eyelids apart.

  Up above him the foliage of trees danced to and fro, leaves spinning in a gentle breeze. Far beyond that was the blue sky.

  Screwing his eyes up in pain Vince started to go through a checklist of body parts.

  Head, shoulders, elbows, hands. Ok, good. Chest, stomach… specialized manly gear that he couldn’t imagine living without, knees, feet.

  Everything was accounted for.

  Tilting his head he tried to get a look at his shoulder. That gator had punched a hole deep into the muscle.

  The wound was sutured closed and smeared liberally with… something. Something that stank.

  Turning his attention down south, and discovering that he was naked, he found his stomach had similar work done.

  That and apparently his specialized equipment was giving him a proud and strong salute.

  Can’t be too much wrong with me if the little soldier is standing at attention.

  Looking around he did a surroundings check.

  Wedged into a clump of bushes, he was laid out in the dead center of them. To his eyes it looked like an animal had denned here for a while and then left. It was a small enclosure, protected from prying eyes and the wind. Which might even help obscure his scent.

  Then he noticed the motionless Orc. It was crouched low in one of the walls of bushes.

  A second after noticing it, he realized it was the same one he’d come across months previously

  She was staring back at him with those large dark eyes.

  Blinking once he strained to look at her, wanting to make sure it really was the same Orc.

  Long black hair pulled back behind her long tipped ears. Where her arms and legs had been exposed previously she now had roughly cured and tanned hides covering her limbs.

  Her face was smooth, lacking all emotion. As if she were studying him as he studied her.

  Her lips were generous, her nose straight and slim, her cheekbones high, her jaw sleek and trim.

  In terms of beauty, he found her oddly disconcerting. She had a face that would actually be considered cute. Perhaps bordering on being a little pretty.

  Then again, when was the last time I really looked at an Orc like this. When was the last time I didn’t kill them simply out of hand?

  The Orc move forward, her eyes settling on his torso.

  Her lips peeled back as she sniffed twice at him. She had tusks, as all members of her race did. But they tucked cleanly into her upper lip. They looked like large canniness more than anything.

  Unable to move or do much of anything, Vince watched. Wondering what the hell she was up to. Orcs didn’t patch humans up. They didn’t drag them off from a fight they were losing to save them.

  Then she wrapped a green hand around his member. Her hands were callused but the touch was soft. Light. Hesitant.

  Betraying Vince’s own desires, his little soldier simply continued to direct all attention skyward.

  Vince’s eyes had gone wide at the suddenness of her action.

  Giving him a thoughtful tug she sniffed again at the air. The pull had been cautious, a curious testing.

  He got the impression she wasn’t sure about his genitalia. Then again he could be the first human she’s seen in person. Let alone naked.

  Much to his embarrassment he felt his heart rate speed up. Though on second thought he couldn’t tell if it was fear of what the fuck she was doing or excitement at what the fuck she could do.

  After a heartbeat of nothing further from her, she turned her head to stare into his eyes.

  The Orc warrior murmured something in a feminine yet low rumbling voice. He swore it had a question attached to the end of it.

  “I’m-I’m sorry I don’t speak your language. Ah…” Vince said unhelpfully.

  The Orc repeated the same phrase, though this time the question sounded more like a statement. He only made out the last word that sounded a lot like Fes.

  “Fes.” Vince said aloud. Nodding his head. At this point he’d repeat whatever the hell she wanted like a parrot so long as she didn’t tear his member clean off.

  The Orcs eyebrows came together over her dark black eyes. With her free hand she reached out and tapped his chest with her fingers and said something.

  Then she touched her own chest, and repeated “Fes.”

  It’s her name?

  “Fes,” Vince parroted.

  At that the Orc grunted, her eyebrows smoothing again. Apparently she was satisfied with that response.

  Dismissing him, her eyes turned back down to his private part held in her hand. Speaking quietly to what he assumed was herself she waggled him a little. Her words sounded like she was speaking her thoughts aloud.

  Finally she released him. Much to his great joy and secret shame. Then she gently pressed her fingers to his side. She pushed at the wound, dragging her thumb along the stitches. Then she repeated the process for his shoulder.

  Now that he thought about it, they looked markedly healed. Far more than they should be.

  Actually, how long have I been out?

  Content with whatever she saw there she reached to his side.

  He recognized his canteen in her hand at the same time his mouth told him he was as parched as a desert.

  Unscrewing the cap with long green fingers she held it over his mouth.

  Opening it in mute acceptance for her, she began to pour it’s contents into his mouth.

  It had a slight woody taste to it but the sweet wetness of it on his dry tongue nearly brought him to tears.

  She paused at times allowing him to swallow. All too soon she re-stoppered the canteen and set it to one side.

  His head started to tingle, and his hands and feet went numb within minutes.

  Oh. I see.

  It was the only thought he managed before he was swept into the nothing that was a medicated sleep.

  Vince’s eyes snapped open. He recognized the leaves above him, even though it was nightfall now. The air had a bite to it but he didn’t feel cold. He caught the twinkle of a star or two between the branches.

  Feeling weak all over, sore, and tender at the same time, he realized he wasn’t going to be getting himself to safety anytime soon. He doubted he could wrestle a kitten right now.

  His eyes began to take in the small amount of light available. He always had better than normal night vision and for once felt thankful for those non-normal gifts of his.

  Inspecting his surroundings again his eyes found he was unmoved from where he awoke last.

  He couldn’t even assume this was the same day from when he was last awake.

  Well, that wasn’t quite right. He’d clearly been moved an inch or two, but he imagined that had been probably to check either his wounds or… well, to clean him up if he had an accident while he slept.

  Being forced to sleep didn’t preclude his body from relieving itself of waste after all.

  Looking down to himself he found the Orc woman pressed up into his side, her knee draped over his hips and one hand on his shoulder. Her head on the grass next to his injured shoulder.

  Not being cold made
a bit more sense now. That and the fact that the woman felt like a damn furnace. She put out enough body heat for her and him.

  Belatedly he realized she was awake. Awake and watching him from inches away.

  Clearing his throat softly he tried the only word he knew. That he assumed was her name.

  “Fes?” he asked.

  She nodded once at that, lifting her head fractionally from the grass.

  Again came a stream of words, none of which he knew. He swore he could pick out a few in there that he’d heard before.

  Unable to appropriately ask what she’d done to treat his wounds he decided to try pointing. She’d clearly attempted the same method to him earlier.

  Pointing at his shoulder in front of her nose he waited a second. Her eyes focused on his finger before looking back to him.

  Moving his hand again he pointed at the wound on his stomach.

  Her eyes followed his finger towards the wound.

  “What did you do?” Vince asked, moving his pointing finger to his shoulder and then back to his stomach. “Infection is easy to get out here. Oh hell, she won’t know what I’m saying, what am I doing?”

  Dropping his hand to his side and laying his head back down on the grass he stared up at the tree canopy above him.

  Check it in the morning.

  Beside him, the warrior shifted to an upright sitting position, withdrawing her hand and knee both. His skin felt cold as she drew back. Letting his eyes move to his apparent savior he watched her.

  Her eyebrows were drawn together and her lips were pursed. She looked like she was contemplating something.

  “Fes?” Vince asked, hoping that nothing was wrong.

  Blinking rapidly at the question, the Orc looked to his face.

  “Fes,” she said with a nod of her head.

  Her right hand snaked down along his stomach. Her fingers brushed over the wound gently and then straight down to his privates.

  Her fingers immediately curled around his girth and gave him a light squeeze. Soft callused fingers with a careful grip. She cradled him in her palm and brushed a thumb over his tip.

  The whisper of the touch made his skin prickle. Vince’s breath caught between his teeth as his heart lurched.

  Reaching out with his left hand to stop her he encountered her free hand. She lightly swatted his hand back and then pointedly looked into his eyes.