Pursuit

by Val St. Crowe

  He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a human being. You shouldn’t say things like that.” He went back to wiggling. Aha. There. He’d caught something. The beams flickered.

  “Hey!” said Eve, excited.

  But then he lost it. “Damn it.” He wiggled the metal piece around again, looking for the right spot. “Hold on, I’ll get it. Give me another minute.”

  “Anyway, why do you care?” she said.

  “About what?”

  “About what I do with my body,” she said.

  “Well, you’re my…” He trailed off.

  “I’m your what?”

  He gave the metal piece another wiggle. “Just don’t it again, okay? That made me crazy.” The plasma beams flickered again, and then were extinguished.

  “You did it!”

  He gave her a lopsided grin.

  She went over to the place where the bars had been and carefully reached out. Nothing happened as she extended her arm. She hopped out of the cell.

  Gunner got up and followed her.

  Together, they moved around the crates so that they could climb up into the ducts. It took a bit of doing, but it wasn’t difficult.

  As Gunner had remembered, the ducts were a tight squeeze, but it was doable to crawl through them.

  Gunner went first. He had to lie flat on his belly and use his arms to drag himself through. He could use his legs to help push through, but there definitely wasn’t room to do anything like crawling.

  Eve came behind him. “You know where we’re going?”

  “Well, assuming this ship is laid out like the leon I was imprisoned in before, then we’re not too far from the docking bay,” he said.

  “Great,” she said. “I’ll follow you, then.”

  Gunner led them further and further down the ducts. After about ten minutes, they came to the end of the duct they were in. There were two choices of where to go next, left or right.

  Suddenly, he realized he was pretty foggy on the layout of that old leon ship. It had been a really long time ago, and the entire experience had been pretty traumatic. He was fairly sure he had a general idea of where the docking bay should be, but now he wasn’t sure if he hadn’t somehow switched everything around in his head and—

  “Captain? Everything all right?”

  “Uh, yeah,” he said. And he turned right and headed up that way.

  “If you’re lost, you would tell me, right, because—”

  “Quiet,” he said. “If the pirates are close, they’ll be able to hear us talking.”

  She was quiet.

  They moved through the ducts, and when they came to other turns, he took the ones he thought were right without a lot of hesitation. He figured that what he needed to do was trust his instincts, right? He must know where they were going, deep down inside. His subconscious knew.

  But then they heard voices beneath them, and they both stopped.

  There was a small grate ahead, and Gunner nudged himself up to it to look out.

  He was looking down into the kitchen on the ship. The kitchen? Was this the right way, or had he taken them in the complete opposite direction of where they needed to go?

  “…just kill them both,” a voice drifted up. “I don’t know why you’re all soft on it these days, Chote.”

  “He’s sweet on the girl,” said another voice. “She promised to suck him off or something, right?”

  “I’ve been over this before,” said Chote’s voice. “We don’t want to end up like the vidya. As a species, I mean. So, killing other humans, it’s a bad idea. We gotta stay alive.”

  “Sure, sure,” said the first voice, “but what are we going to do with them? They’re just eating our food and draining our resources.”

  Gunner slowly began to inch his way forward. He couldn’t very well turn around here, so he had to keep going. If they were going the wrong direction, he’d know it soon enough. At least he hoped so.

  “Did you hear that?” came a voice from below.

  “Hear what?” said Chote.

  Gunner froze again, glancing over his shoulder at Eve.

  She gazed at him with wide eyes.

  “There’s something up there,” said the first voice.

  Abruptly, a plasma blade punched up right under Gunner’s chin. Nearly any gun could be adjusted to a makeshift blade instead. They were typically only about three inches long, but they cut through most anything. Gunner scrambled back, his feet and knees thudding against the bottom of the air duct.

  “You cutting the ceiling, Mills?” said Chote.

  “You tell me you didn’t hear that?” said the first voice, presumably Mills.

  The blade went out and then came up again, this time dangerously near Gunner’s foot. He scurried forward, avoiding the blade. Damn it all. They needed to get clear of the people below them as quickly as possible.

  But the blade came up again, this time right in front of him. And now, whoever had it dragged it in a line, coming straight for him.

  Gunner hissed.

  Then the ducts gave way, too labored under his weight while being cut, and he and Eve tumbled out of the air ducts and into the kitchen on the leon ship.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  He landed face down on the floor, and Eve landed on top of him.

  He grunted.

  She scrambled off of him.

  The kitchen was spacious, big enough for heating units and a sink and four round tables with chairs. There were five pirates in the room, and they all had their guns out now, trained on Eve and him.

  “Never should have trusted you, girly,” said Chote. He gestured with the barrel of his rifle at Gunner. “You. On your feet.”

  Gunner stood up, raising his arms over his head. Well, this had gone real well. He glanced around in his immediate vicinity for something, anything, he could use as a weapon. There were some utensils on a nearby table and a metal tray that still had food on it. Not that he could really reach either of those things without the pirates blowing him away, though.

  Damn it.

  Chote nodded at Eve. “Come here.”

  Eve didn’t move.

  “Girly, I have a gun in your face,” said Chote. “Move.”

  Eve made her way over to him, her face set. “Don’t call me girly.”

  Gunner glanced around again. There had to be something he could reach… maybe that chair, right there? If he could quick-like get it by the leg? How many guns were on him again?

  Chote snatched at Eve. He grasped her wrist and pulled her body against his, her back to his front. Then he put the barrel of his rifle under Eve’s chin.

  Eve whimpered.

  Gunner flinched. Well, at least it was one less gun on him. But he’d rather not have someone ready to blow off Eve’s face.

  “You know, girly,” said Chote, who was now stroking her hair absently with one hand, “I really did go out of my way for you, and it hurts me that you’re a lying little bitch.”

  Eve’s nostrils flared. She caught Gunner’s eye and barely nodded her head, like she was trying to signal him or something.

  He glanced back at the chair.

  “I don’t want to kill you,” said Chote, “because it’s a waste of perfectly good pussy. On the other hand, you’re still having your time until tomorrow, so I’m supposed to keep you locked up until then, and I know I can’t trust you to stay put, so—” He grunted, eyes widening.

  Eve had just elbowed him in the stomach.

  Gunner turned, bending down, grabbing for the chair. He picked it up and turned in a wide circle.

  Eve punched Chote in the face. He dropped his rifle.

  Gunner slammed the chair into one of the pirates, and he fell down.

  The other pirates were all shooting at them.

  A blast grazed Gunner’s arm. He cried out.

  Eve picked up Chote’s rifle and raised it. She pulled the trigger.

  Gunner had to duck, because it was coming right
for him. He yelled as he hit the floor.

  “Sorry,” said Eve.

  The pirate behind where Gunner had been standing fell down dead.

  Now, Gunner was on the ground with the pirate he’d knocked down.

  The guy was reaching out for the pistol he’d lost. His fingers brushed at the handle.

  Gunner grabbed the gun by the barrel. They struggled over it on the floor, a tug-of-war.

  Eve turned around and shot Chote in the head with his own rifle. She whirled and shot another pirate.

  He fell down too.

  Gunner got the gun away from the pirate on the ground. He turned it on the man and pulled the trigger. The plasma beam exploded in the man’s face.

  Eve screeched.

  Gunner got to his feet. “What?” He turned and shot the final pirate in the room, who’d just shot Eve.

  She was clutching her leg. It was bleeding.

  “You okay?” Gunner said to her.

  “Damn,” she said through gritted teeth.

  There was no one else in the room, but there were more pirates on the ship, and they were probably going to show up at any—

  A volley of plasma fire came through the doorway, signaling the approach of the remaining four pirates.

  Gunner tackled Eve, knocking her to the ground just in time to avoid being hit. They thudded against the floor. Gunner struggled to get his gun up. He pulled his trigger and held it, one long, extended beam, which he used to cut through the pirates coming in like he was holding a scythe.

  He cut two of them in half and got halfway into the third’s neck before the gun ran out of cartridge. Damn it, he knew doing that went hard on the gas, but he didn’t think he’d need that much to kill them all.

  There was one pirate left. He gripped his rifle and pointed it first at Gunner and then at Eve.

  Eve had dropped Chote’s rifle when they fell. It was lying about a foot away. She looked at the discarded gun and then up at the pirate.

  Gunner was still holding his useless pistol. Of course, the pirate aiming at them didn’t necessarily know it was useless. He leveled his arms, pointing it straight at that man. “Don’t try anything, or I will blow you away.”

  “Shut up,” said the pirate. “And don’t move.”

  “Eve,” said Gunner. “Now.”

  She dove for Chote’s rifle.

  The pirate fired. But he was surprised, and his shot didn’t hit anything.

  And then Eve shot him, and her beam hit him right between the eyes. He wavered on his feet for a moment, a stunned expression on his face. And then he fell to the ground, lifeless.

  Eve panted, looking around. “That all of them?”

  Gunner nodded. “Looks like.”

  * * *

  Eve sat on a cot in the med bay in the leon ship while the captain put synth skin and a bandage on the wound on her leg. It was high up on her thigh, and she couldn’t wear pants, but he wasn’t saying anything about the fact that she was half-dressed, and she was trying to pretend that it wasn’t happening either, even though he was basically standing between her thighs, and it reminded her of the position they’d been in back at the target range when they’d…

  Well, anyway, she was trying not to think of that.

  “Okay, you’re good,” he said, stepping back.

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling at him.

  “Not a problem.” He rolled up his sleeve to look at the place he’d been singed, right above his elbow.

  Eve hopped off the cot. “Do you want me to—”

  “No, I’ve got it, thanks,” he said, slapping a little bit of synth skin over it. “It’s nothing, you know.”

  She nodded. “Of course.” She wondered if maybe he just didn’t want her touching him.

  But then he applied the bandage and rolled down his sleeve and grinned at her. “You held your own back there. I think maybe you saved my life this time.”

  She blushed, looking down at her feet. When she looked up, he was closer. Her breath caught in her throat. “That a thank you?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

  She gave him a tiny smile. “You’re welcome, captain.”

  “You could call me Gunner, you know? I ain’t exactly captaining anything these days.” He started out of the med bay. “You feel up to it, I could use some help getting rid of those bodies,” he called over his shoulder.

  She watched him go, feeling a wee bit lightheaded. Gunner? Okay, right. She could do that.

  Moving the bodies and cleaning up afterward was dreadful, back-breaking work, and she was happy when they were done. They lined up all the dead pirates in one of the airlock containers and Gunner stood over them, looking down at their bloody bodies.

  “These might have been good men if things had been different. We wouldn’t have taken their lives if they didn’t threaten ours. Rest in peace,” he said in a low voice.

  And then they jettisoned them off into the void.

  After, they stood there quietly for several minutes.

  “Well,” said Gunner, “this hasn’t turned out so bad, after all.”

  “How do you mean?” she said.

  “I mean, we were on the run from a vidya who knew our destination, but we were yanked off course, so now that thing has no idea where we are. And we have an entire leon ship to ourselves, probably a pretty well-stocked one. I figure we can float around in space undetected for some time.”

  She smiled. “Actually, you’re right. This has turned out pretty well. So, we just stay put for now?”

  “I think so,” he said.

  They were dirty and sweaty after moving the bodies around, so they each went and took showers—in pristine bathrooms, since they’d cleaned them all the day before.

  The shower felt great, Eve thought, even though she’d had one the day before. This time, she wasn’t worried about pirates barging in on her. She checked her feminine product, and it had done its work, so she removed it and stored it in the bathroom. She found more clothes like the ones she’d been given by Chote, and she dressed in those.

  Then, she and Gunner went exploring in the kitchen and managed to put together a fairly decent meal with the provisions that had been left behind. Gunner found a bottle of some kind of homemade wine that had been made from fruit grown on one of the planets in the Ceymia system, and it was sweet and potent. Before long, she was giggling at nearly everything he said, and he was laughing too.

  After dinner, they went into the cockpit, and Gunner looked in at all the onboard systems to see how much fuel they had and if everything was in good, working order. He said they were set for a while.

  She sat in a chair in the cockpit and gripped her cup full of wine with both hands. She stared out at the stars ahead of them. “You know everything about ships.”

  He laughed. “I don’t know everything, princess.”

  She struck out with one hand, hitting him on the arm. “Stop calling me that!”

  “Ouch, sun and stars!” he said. “Okay, okay.”

  She turned to look at him, cringing. “Did I really hurt you?”

  He was gingerly touching his arm through his shirt.

  “Oh, no, that’s where you were wounded!” She leaned over to be closer, and some of her wine spilled a little bit, sloshing over the edge of the cup. “Did I mess up the synth skin?”

  “It’s fine,” he said, and he was grinning at her again. “I think it’s practically healed.”

  “No,” she said, “let me see. Roll up your sleeve.”

  “It’s okay,” he insisted.

  She set down her cup of wine and grabbed his arm. “I’m going to look at it, because I didn’t mean to hurt you, and you need to let me do that.”

  He was laughing. “Listen, I am the person who knows if I’m hurt or not, so—”

  “Shh,” she said, concentrating on rolling his sleeve up. She got it all the way up to his elbow before it occurred to her that she had both of her hands on his skin and that he was warm
and close. And then she looked up at him. He was gazing at her. His face was close.

  She bit down on her lip.

  “You’re always doing that,” he said in a soft voice.

  “Doing what?” Her voice was quiet too.

  He glanced at her lips and then up into her eyes.

  She let out a shuddering breath.

  And then they were kissing.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  They kissed and kissed, and Eve climbed into his lap and felt bold and loose from all the sweet wine. She put her hands under his shirt to touch him, and he sighed and didn’t stop her.

  He didn’t seem much inhibited either. He peeled off her shirt and her bust supporter and put his mouth on her nipples, and she arched her back and threw her head back, grinding her hips against him, because it felt so good, and she never wanted him to stop.

  When he did stop, it was only so they could take off more of their clothes, and by that time, she was a boneless mess of pleasure and desire. She helped him undress, eager to loosen his belt, to get his pants off, to have them both wearing nothing again.

  Which was the case fairly quickly. And then it was bliss, skin sliding against skin. Her hand wrapped around Gunner’s cock, his fingers between her legs, his tongue in her mouth, and everything was sweet and bursting and perfect.

  They did it on the chair, her straddling him, his fingers digging into her hips, his forehead pressed into her chest.

  It was good. Better than before. She didn’t know if that was because she wasn’t as nervous, and she didn’t know if she was only not nervous because of all that wine, but whatever the case, her climax was bursting and intense and she’d never felt anything quite like it before.

  And afterward, she sagged against him, and he leaned his head back on the chair and shut his eyes. She was happy.

  She wanted to stay that way. Happy and basking in the afterglow of pleasure. She buried her face against his bare shoulder, and she resolved to stay that way. Forever, if need be. She was fairly sure that if they spoke to each other, it would all be ruined.

  And for his part, he seemed to be fairly content with his plan. He wasn’t moving either, except for one finger that was lazily tracing patterns over her left leg. He went from the hollow of her knee all the way up to the curve of her ass, and the trail left little shivers in its wake.