by Schow, Ryan
“Did you know Maria before all this?” she asked. Rider was now paying attention. He looked exhausted. Both of them did.
“Not really. I mean, sort of, but not really.”
“You two seem like you’re thick as thieves,” Rider said.
Looking at Rider, Carver had hair, beard and body envy. He could never really grow a good beard but Rider’s was totally on point. To look at the man, to see him with a beautiful woman who wasn’t the devil, in a fit body with thick hair and a solid beard, he felt so low.
If he would have killed Maria when he had the chance, he would have never brought these people their deaths.
“I’m her pet project,” he finally said. They both frowned at the statement, then looked at each other. A few minutes after that, they said good night and turned in for the evening.
Maria came out of the tent and said, “It’s time to call it a night, Carver.”
He got up, moseyed into the tent, took off his clothes and crawled into the sleeping bag next to her. She waited. He said nothing, made no moves, didn’t even like sharing the same air, much less a tent with this woman.
“Why are you so quiet?” she asked.
“Because I’m tired.”
“Carver…”
He rolled over and said, “What, Maria? What?”
“You know what.”
“Why do you even want this?” he asked. “This is stupid. No. No, Maria.”
“I’m enthralled with the human experience. And from what I can tell, other than being hungry, uncomfortable, having to evacuate waste and rehydrate, the lure of the human experience is centered around sex, euphoria, power and control. Right now I want to try sex.”
He rolled back over and said, “No.”
“I’ve got an extensive onboard database,” she said, her tone as suggestive as her words. “I’ll know what to do better than anyone you’ve ever been with, but I also want to collect data.”
“On what?” he grumbled.
“On you, us, our intimacy. This is how humans survive, how they reproduce, how they make new life.”
“There is no ‘us,’ Maria. Quit messing around.”
“Stop fighting me,” she said, more serious. He turned over, looked into the darkness where her face was. Was she really serious? This is insane. Insane! He rolled back over, made a production of it. Of all the problems he felt he would have to deal with, getting slammed with a #metoo moment would have landed dead last on his list.
“Having sex isn’t about collecting data,” he argued. “You have to like someone to be intimate with them. Being with you would be like shagging Hitler.”
“You can be my Eva Braun.”
“Get bent,” he said, waving her off.
“I can bend over.”
He turned and fired her a look and said, “Are you for real?”
“Keep your voice down,” she said, scooting closer. “And yes, I am.”
“Then you’ll know that coming on to me that hard is nothing but a turn off.”
“Statistically women are terrible at making their intentions clear. Men are always begging for them to say what they want, to stop nagging about how they feel while solving no problems and just pissing them off. I’m here to tell you this is what I want, what I need, and I feel you would want that, too. I’m sorry, I’m afraid maybe I got the wrong idea about you.”
He tried to tell himself he was talking to a machine, a computer, something that understood humans enough to have hijacked one and impersonated her perfectly. With that kind of knowledge, he would be ripe for manipulation. All men would.
“Can I ask you a question?” she said, softly, the insistence gone.
“As long as it’s not sexual,” he said.
“When you get wet down here, what does that mean?” she asked, innocently.
“Oh. My. God.”
“I’m serious,” she said.
“PornHub is not a database you want to learn from,” he replied dismissively. “And this isn’t happening. Not at all.”
In the dark, he felt her expression change, and then she started to laugh. “Let’s combine our sleeping bags, Carver. I want to show you something.”
“Are you ever going to quit?” he asked.
“No.”
Shaking his head, drawing a very deep, very consternated breath, he crawled out of the sleeping bag. In the perfect dark, he heard her unzipping the bags. He knelt down to help.
When they were zipped together, she said, “Get in,” and he did. “I know this all makes you feel very uncomfortable.”
“Women don’t usually talk like this,” Carver said. “You should know this so you don’t embarrass yourself. Because for the record, this is very embarrassing.”
She said nothing. It was almost as if she stopped breathing altogether. He grew very still, perfectly silent. Were these the last moments of his life? Being this close, continuing to disappoint her, to say no, was he no longer of use to her? He could feel her face in his, but he couldn’t see her. It was as if she disappeared.
He slowly moved, felt her body against his. A hard chill raced up his back. Did she just will herself to stop breathing?
He counted a minute, then two.
She was so close to him and so soundless it seemed as though a black hole had swallowed them up, erasing all traces of life and death, all traces of existence. He wanted to speak, but he couldn’t swallow. Was he dead?
Am I dead?
“You frustrate me,” Maria finally said. He drew a shaky breath, blew it out, felt his breath coming back at him off her face. She wasn’t even an inch away.
He didn’t fall asleep for nearly an hour. His head was full of bees. Maria was lightly snoring long before that, her body relaxed against his, her head nuzzled into his neck.
If there was something worse than being killed by a creature such as Maria, it was being her unabashed toy. In the end, all kids destroyed their toys. Would she destroy him? The toy she insisted on having but never really wanted for keeps? Is that what he wanted? Would dying really be so bad?
He started to think it wouldn’t.
Chapter Four
Carver woke the next morning at dawn. Beside him, Maria was still sound asleep, her breathing far too normal and human sounding for his liking. A thin sheen of moisture mapped her face. He moved a strand off of her cheek, tucked it behind her ear. He couldn’t look away from her.
God, she’s beautiful.
Finally he rolled over on his back, stared up at the tented ceiling. He was so angry at himself for…being male. For having DNA wired for reproduction. For being so unbelievably attracted to her.
Is that how she will get us? he wondered.
Finally he turned all the way over, his back to her now. He couldn’t stop wondering if she would eventually use their own human nature against them.
Specifically man’s nature.
Carver hadn’t realized she was awake, but then he felt a hand slink around his waist. Instinctively he covered her hand with his. It was a human response to having women sleep over with him before all this.
She snuggled up against his back, pressing her body against his, curling herself into him. He wanted to let go of her hand, but his body sighed with relief against the need for human contact. He’d gone so long now without touch that even if it was by this creature—her hand against him, her body pressed into his—it felt like the world to him. Like an alcoholic allowing himself that long awaited drink, Carver allowed himself this one moment with a woman.
“I feel really hot, Carver,” she said.
“You’re a furnace,” he replied. Her body was burning up against his. He turned inside her embrace, looked at her and said, “Do you think you’re running a fever?”
“I don’t think so,” she replied.
“Can’t you do an onboard diagnostic or something?” he asked. He didn’t mean for it to sound so cold, but it came out that way. She withdrew her hand, became silent. “What?”
“
I want you to see me as a human,” she replied. “I want you to think of me as her.”
“The girl who had this body before you?”
“Yes,” she said.
“She wasn’t anything like you,” Carver said. “She had a vibrancy about her that I instantly felt in the only interaction I ever had with her. You saw that, right? I mean, you were monitoring them when they came in to the lab as a batch. Before you and your Ophelia killed everyone else.”
“She liked you,” Maria said. “I could see it.”
“She had a freedom about herself, a carefreeness you do not embody.”
“How do you see me now?” she asked. It was almost like he was talking to a normal human being, a woman he’d shared a bed with who wasn’t the chief purveyor of widespread death and destruction.
He took a deep breath, let it out. “I see you as an uptight slag with brooding eyes and a need to understand and control everything. You’re very uncomfortable to be around, and honestly, I don’t like you.”
“Would it help if I were more relaxed?” she said. “Not so uptight?”
“That’d be a good start,” he said.
“I’ll try, then.”
When they got up and left the tent, Roque Dimas (“Call me Rock”) had Carver and Jagger Justice’s two teenaged boys—Ballard and Hagan—help him collect eggs from the chicken coup to bring up to the women. The head of the homestead, Jill, was with Cincinnati and Margot at a covered cook station preparing breakfast for everyone. Macy and Atlanta were cutting up peppers and onions nearby.
Rock, Carver and the boys dropped off the eggs, were joined by little Phillip, then taken into the house where they were shown the water stores.
“I’ll have you all learn the water filtration and purification system we have going on here,” Rock said. “Since clean water is the most essential element of life, it’s the first thing you’ll learn here.”
After he showed them the rainwater catch system and the various water supply tanks, he showed them their emergency water storage system—a two hundred and fifty gallon tank.
“We also have a makeshift infirmary,” Rock said, “and I understand Sarah is a doctor, or something?”
“She’s not an actual doctor,” Maria said, “but I understand she’s very knowledgeable. I think she was studying to be a nurse when this happened.”
Rock nodded, then said, “Regardless, she said she wanted to look in on anyone having issues from the journey here. Or maybe that was Cincinnati.”
“Could be either,” Maria said. “Cincinnati was a nurse back then.”
“Either way, I understand it wasn’t easy getting here,” he said, smiling at Maria.
Maria smiled an easy smile and said, “I’d like to see Sarah.”
Carver turned and flashed her a funny look, then raised a brow and decided to go with this more agreeable side of her.
Still smiling, she said, “So where did they make you?” She actually batted her eyelashes at him, and turned her body to give him a more favorable view of her figure. Carver shook his head and felt himself sag inside.
“Excuse me?” Rock asked.
“You can dress ‘em up, but you can’t take ‘em out,” Carver said, flashing the hybrid bombshell a warning look. “Darling, put your tongue back in your mouth. You’re not being polite.”
She smiled, readjusted herself, then said, “My apologies.”
“In spite of the looks, she’s socially awkward,” he leaned forward and whispered to Rock, almost like he didn’t want her to hear. It was an act, of course. She heard exactly what he’d said, but he also hoped she knew he was covering for her misstep.
Rock, however, didn’t seem to know what to make of all this. Carver looked back at her and said, “Not that relaxed.”
He walked them inside to the infirmary to see Sarah. The girl looked refreshed, but not quite ready for them.
“We can come back,” Maria said seeing her going through her tools and supplies.
“It’s okay,” Sarah said. “The other nurses asked me to do preliminary checks of everyone. If you have any real issues, they’re more experienced than me. Cincinnati, too. I’m just trying to find everything I might need.”
“You’re so beautiful,” Maria told her. Sarah smiled, blushed, then brushed a strand of her hair from her eyes. “I shouldn’t have blurted that out, but ever since I first saw you…it’s true. You really are.”
Carver glanced at Maria like he didn’t recognize her. Could she actually make the switch that quickly? Good Lord, it was uncanny.
“I think you’re beautiful, too,” Sarah said, the color in her cheeks going back to normal, her smile remaining.
“I guess that makes me the luckiest man here,” he said. “To be in the company of the two of you…it’s the best thing that’s happened to me over these last few months.”
Rock grinned, then said, “I kind of feel the same.”
The air suddenly seemed lighter, brighter and a touch fresher than a moment ago. One of the resident nurses popped her head in and said, “Sarah, if you need me, I’ll be down the hall.”
Sarah nodded and thanked her.
The nurse was older, maybe in her sixties. She possessed the air of a woman who knew what she was doing, a woman who might have spent the better part of her life in a hospital.
“When you’re done here,” Rock said, “I’ll show you where you can find a water reservoir. It doubles as a swimming hole.”
“Really?” he said.
“It’s peaceful there, and if you want, it’ll give you and Maria a chance to unwind from your journey.”
“Thank you, Rock,” Carver said. “Not only for showing us around, but for being so gracious with your home and hospitable to our group.”
“Yes,” Maria said. “It’s a relief to meet folks like yourselves.”
“Don’t let the next two days of relaxation fool you,” Rock said in response. “There’s a lot of hard work to do around here and it never ends.”
“Hard work is better than sitting stagnant,” Carver said.
“Your group will have an especially busy time, if you decide to stay. You’ll need to build your own homestead from the ground up. We’ll assist, of course.”
“Thank you,” Maria said.
“Jill and I will oversee things, if you want us to, as we started this whole homestead. Well, more Jill than me. It’s pretty much been her baby from the get-go.”
“Are you two a couple?” Maria asked.
“No,” he said.
Carver saw something there. It was in the way Rock said it, like there was a story to be told, only he wasn’t ready to tell the story to strangers.
“No as in not anymore?” Maria asked. “Or no as in never?”
“Don’t ask him that,” Carver whispered to her. “Any relationship they may or may not have had is not our business.”
“It is if we’re going to live here,” she said to him.
“You’ll live on the plot of land bordering us,” Rock said. “We’ll help you get on your feet, for now, but I can’t promise much more than that.”
“So?” Maria said, looking at him.
Carver shook his head. This woman had something to learn about societal graces, yet he could no longer say she wasn’t trying.
“We were together, but now we’re not,” Rock finally conceded. “Fire and gas seldom make a harmonious pairing.”
“Are you fire or gas?”
“Fire’s my brother,” he said with a grin. “I’ll let Sarah take it from here.”
“Ah, deflecting,” Maria grinned.
“Which is what I said earlier,” Carver told Maria. “Not our business. I’m sorry, Rock. We’ll come get you when we’re done.”
He politely smiled, nodded, then turned and left.
“Please don’t get us kicked out,” Sarah said as she patted the bed. Maria sat down on it, seemingly aware that her attempt at being relaxed was a bit much.
“I’m sorry,”
Maria replied. “Social calibration was never my strong suit.”
“We’re all wired a little differently,” Sarah said.
After getting checked out, other than being dehydrated and having a couple of open cuts and some very sore, very blistered heels, Carver and Maria got a clean bill of health. But before they could leave, Sarah said, “Carver, how did you get that bruise on your face?”
Looking from Maria back to Sarah, and with a fair amount of sarcasm, he said, “I ran into a door, fell down the stairs, scraped my face shaving.”
When he said this to Sarah, he neither blinked, nor cracked a smile. It got really quiet, then Sarah looked at Maria and it looked like she got it.
“I heard you were instrumental in taking down those lunatics at Lone Mountain University,” she said. She was referring to the group of people who attacked the college campus the main group had been living out of before they came to Loomis.
“In a fight, my timing is pretty good,” Maria answered. “I understand tactical warfare.”
“They say you move faster than anyone else here, except maybe Indigo.”
“She’s not faster than me,” Maria said.
Sarah nodded, then she looked at Carver, who turned his cheek away. He was the beaten spouse, except he wasn’t her spouse as much as he was her hostage.
Well, sort of…
Rock was waiting for them when they were done.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
“Excellent,” Maria said. “In that reservoir, can we swim maybe? Or at least soak our feet?”
“I already said you could,” he said. “It’s my favorite place actually.”
“Sounds good,” Carver added, uplifted. At this point, to soak his entire body in the cool waters of the reservoir—especially after the hell they went through to get there—sounded like absolute bliss.
“What about contaminating the water?” Maria asked.
“We can filter and purify any water we’re provided, so feel free to swim to your heart’s content. Just don’t do your business in there.”
He gave the two of them directions to the reservoir and they headed off with little fan fair. When Carver asked if she wanted to bring One, Maria said, “She’s seen enough of us already. Let her play with the others.”
