DECIMATED (The Nameless Invasion Book 1)

by Sean Shake

  “See?” Abigail said. “I told you it’s better to stay away from population centers.”

  “It’s not a bit cold to be boating?” I asked. Her grandparents, it turned out, lived across the border in Canada, a block away from Lake Erie, and she’d said it would be quicker to boat over than drive to Michigan to cross.

  Abigail shook her head. “The lake doesn’t usually freeze over this early. Not till January or February. If it freezes over at all.” She climbed into the front seat and over Emma, then opened the door—causing a cold gust of wind to blow into the cab of the truck—and hopped out.

  Emma glanced at me and gave a little smile before getting out herself.

  Amazing what difference rescuing a teenage girl could do for your prospects.

  I got Hunter unloaded from the truck and into the wheelchair, Abigail covering her up with the clothes she took from Walmart.

  “Aren’t you cold in that?” Abigail asked me.

  I glanced down at my ninja suit. I should’ve been cold, since I wasn’t wearing anything under it, but I wasn’t.

  “Like you said at Walmart, it’s only ‘like forty degrees’.”

  She snorted. “Only.” She looked at Emma. “What about you, you’re still in your scrubs.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Weirdos. Where can I get some of this run-warm serum?”

  I looked around the marina. There were plenty of boats. “You have a boat here?” I asked her.

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  That manner of speaking turned out to be, no, she did not have a boat: We were going to steal one.

  I was learning the girl had no qualms when it came to theft.

  Or breaking and entering, which was exactly what we did to get into the marina office.

  Abigail went through a few drawers, before coming up with a set of keys.

  She held them up to us. “I’ve always wanted to drive this boat. Couldn’t afford it before. They charter it out for fifteen K a day. But now…” She grinned. “Thank you apocalypse.”

  30

  We followed Abigail down the docks and through a gate which she had to unlock, until we reached a rather large yacht.

  It was black and white, three levels, maybe seventy feet long, and looked quite expensive.

  “This?” I asked.

  “Why not ride in luxury? The crossing will take a couple hours, might as well enjoy ourselves.”

  “Can you drive this thing?” I asked. This was one area I was lacking. I knew the basics of sailing, and motorboats weren’t that hard to pilot, but this was much bigger than anything I’d ever driven, although I imagined it had bow thrusters, which were propellers in the front sides of a boat to make it easier to maneuver. Dual rear engines could also provide a similar functionality.

  “No problem.”

  What was a problem, was getting Hunter and her wheelchair onto the boat, since there was no gangway.

  I ended up just having to carry her on, Emma lugging the wheelchair over the gap between the dock and the deck.

  Once on the boat, we went into the saloon. Polished teak, mahogany, and chrome were everywhere. The floors were a dark wood, and overall the impression was one of overwhelming luxury.

  For some reason I couldn’t put my finger on, it made me miss prison.

  I got Hunter laid out on a settee and covered again as Abigail went to the helm and started up the boat.

  Emma got the heating turned on to warm up the saloon.

  Which might take a while, as the saloon was incredibly spacious, the size of a large apartment. It was decked out with many modern-looking features, including a large flatscreen TV—one larger than any I’d ever seen. It had a full-size kitchen, and at the front of the boat, on a raised platform, the helm looked like something out of Star Trek, with all its switches and touchscreens.

  But Abigail, true to her word, seemed to know what she was doing, and maneuvered us out of the slip, into the harbor, and then into Lake Erie itself.

  Then she got up from the helm as we were moving.

  She saw how I looked at her.

  “Don’t worry, it’s on autopilot.”

  “Yeah, I figured. But we’re on a lake.”

  “Yeah, one that’s like fifty miles across and two-hundred long. The only thing we’re going to pass close by is Pelee Island, and that’s not for a while. We’ll be fine. Besides, I’m starving.”

  “Why don’t you fix us all something,” Emma told her. “I need to clean his wounds.”

  “You got it babe,” Abigail responded, going to the kitchen and opening the refrigerator.

  I followed Emma below decks, and into a large suite with a king-size bed and another large flatscreen TV.

  Directly off the stateroom was a head with two sinks, a shower with a gleaming glass door, and an actual bathtub with jacuzzi jets.

  “Come on,” Emma urged. “Off with that. Let me see your wounds.”

  “You’re just trying to get me naked,” I teased. Though, I was starting to feel a stirring. Two years, I thought. Two fucking years.

  She rolled her eyes at me. “I’m a nurse, I’ve seen more than my share of naked bodies. I don’t know that I want to see any more.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh really? You don’t want to see any more at all?”

  She shook her head, but was grinning. “I’m gonna go fill that bath up. When I get back, you better be naked.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  So I undressed, and was surprised I wasn’t even a bit cold, despite the boat having not heated up yet, though I could feel warm air coming from a vent somewhere above me.

  I unwrapped the bandages from my leg and then midsection. My wounds were now nearly healed.

  I also noticed that my chest had a faint glow in the area where I felt Gabriel’s stone.

  I ran my hand over the spot, but it felt just like normal skin.

  Interesting.

  Unable to wait any longer, I walked into the head and found Emma sitting by the tub, which was filling up rapidly, steam rising off the hot water.

  “Hey,” I said.

  She turned to look at me, then stopped when she saw that I was naked.

  Her eyes scanned up and down my body, briefly catching on the glow in my chest, more firmly catching further down, and I bit my tongue and just grinned at her.

  Under her attention, I couldn’t help but grow aroused, and she saw this and licked her lips.

  Her eyes flicked back to my chest, then down to my midsection, seeing my nearly healed wounds. “Looks like maybe you don’t need my attention.”

  I walked up to her and put my hand under her chin, getting her to stand to her feet. “I need your attention very badly.” I trailed my hand down her bare arm, taking her hand and guiding it to me.

  Her breathing sped up as her fingers touched me, then, to my surprise, wrapped around me and squeezed.

  She let out a little sound, that could have been a moan of pleasure, or could’ve been a cry of surprise at what she was doing.

  Then I kissed her, and she kissed me back, and everything started to blur, my mind losing all rational thought as our bodies and tongues pressed together.

  I almost couldn’t believe it was real, that this was happening, as I slid my hands under her clothes, then stripped her naked.

  Then our bodies were pressed together once more, this time with nothing between us, her skin hot and smooth against mine, and I felt such relief, that I actually felt my eyes start to burn, as though I was going to cry. I didn’t—that’s not something I’d done for a long time—but I came close as I ever had to shedding tears of joy.

  We nearly fell into the tub together, splashing water everywhere, and then she was atop me, our bodies mostly underwater, but her breasts above, and I squeezed them as she rode me, ran my hands everywhere on her body, unable to get enough of her.

  I didn’t know how long we were there for, but it must’ve been a while, because not long after we had fini
shed—an experience that was explosive for me—just as Emma said she had a surprise for me, and did I want to see it, Abigail came in then froze, wide-eyed, mouth agape, when she saw us naked in the tub together.

  “Don’t you knock?” Emma said, looking at her roommate.

  “I didn’t realize I needed to. I made us dinner. They had a lot of stuff, but nothing easy, so I had to cook something from scratch. I hope you like Mexican food. That’s really all they had.”

  “That sounds fine,” Emma said.

  “Um, well, when are you guys coming up? Are you done?”

  “Abigail!” Emma scolded.

  “It’s not like I don’t see what you two are doing. Or were doing.” She grinned. “Want some company?”

  “Abigail!” Emma scolded again, this time even harsher, though she was now smiling.

  “Fine fine. Just hurry up. No need to get dressed, Gage, if you don’t want to.”

  “Leave, Abigail,” Emma said, though now her smile was even wider.

  “All right, but hurry up and come.” Then she left.

  “Sorry about that,” Emma said when she was gone.

  “You don’t have to apologize at all,” I said.

  She rubbed herself against me, feeling that I was hard again. “I guess I don’t. Think we have time for one more go?”

  In answer, I slid out from under her, got atop her, then slid inside. I kissed her as she gasped, and we spent the next few minutes in bliss.

  31

  Abigail was in the galley kitchen when we came up, the two of us wrapped in bathrobes.

  “Wow,” Abigail said. “You guys are treating this like a luxury cruise. Sex and bathrobes.”

  “And our own personal chef,” I said.

  Abigail pointed a chef’s knife at me. A real one this time. I was surprised she knew how to use it. “I am not the chef. If anything I’m the hot young mistress.”

  “Why would he need a mistress when I’m only a few years older than you?” Emma asked.

  “Because you’re a few years older than me. Duh.”

  Emma sat down. “This food better be good.”

  “It’s delicious.”

  I settled down beside Emma, and Abigail served both of us, then herself. It was delicious.

  Hunter was still half-conscious on the settee, but after we finished eating, Emma tried to get some water in her.

  Abigail looked down at the girl. “I’m not so sure this was a good idea. She kind of looks like one of them.”

  In getting her to drink water, Emma had lifted her head up, which caused the clothes we’d covered her with to slide down, revealing her shoulder, which was bare except for a bra strap. It also revealed the mark where I’d stabbed her.

  I reached down and ran my finger over it. While the rest of her skin was now a dusky red, the area around where I’d stabbed her was porcelain white, the swelling having gone down now. “Is this normal?” I asked.

  Emma looked. “Who knows what’s normal anymore. It’s healing fast I guess. Faster than you, even.”

  “You think she’ll wake up soon?” Abigail asked.

  Emma only shook her head and shrugged.

  “How much longer until we get there?” I asked.

  “We’re halfway across. About to cross the US-Canadian border.”

  “So another twenty minutes?” I asked.

  “Twenty minutes? No, more like an hour.”

  “You said we’re halfway across.”

  “Yeah.”

  I frowned. “Did you slow us down?”

  “No. You guys were down there for like an hour.”

  “No way,” I said.

  “Yes way. And you didn’t even invite me.” She pouted at me.

  “Okay,” Emma said, “I think we should take naps if we can. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m tired.”

  “Yeah, I would be too,” Abigail said, “after your little escapades below decks.”

  “Oh my God Abigail, drop it.”

  “You girls can get some sleep,” I told them. “I’m not tired.” I didn’t know if it was the energy drink, or that green gas from the hellspawn, but I felt energized now.

  “Are you sure you can monitor the ship?” Abigail asked. “Or no, wait, let me guess, you know how to do that too, don’t you?”

  “You already set the course on autopilot, all I have to do is make sure we don’t run into anything that’s not supposed to be there. I think I can figure out how to do that.”

  Abigail yawned. “I am kind of tired. I don’t know how much good an hour’s sleep will do me though.”

  “Now’s a good time to find out.”

  32

  I sat in the captain’s chair, playing with my shadow blade and shield now that I was alone.

  It was endlessly entertaining. Close my right fist, blade shoots out. My left, and a shield forms.

  Though calling it a shield was generous.

  While I was playing with my new toys at the helm, the girls slept in the cabins below.

  I’d checked on them ten minutes ago, which was about ten minutes after they’d gone down there, and both were sound asleep. They must have been pretty tired.

  I wasn’t, however. Even the low rumble of the engines wasn’t enough to lull me to sleep.

  Nor did it seem to for our demonic companion, Hunter. Instead of getting lulled to sleep, she seemed to be waking up more and more.

  When I wasn’t making my blade appear and disappear, I split my attention between the console and the view ahead—which both showed basically nothing, as we were in the middle of Lake Erie—and Hunter.

  Though I could see the distant shore now and a few faint lights, it wasn’t as many as I would’ve expected.

  Hunter moaned again, and I thought she might be trying to say something, so I glanced at her.

  And nearly jumped when I saw that she was staring at me from the settee she lay on.

  “You’re up,” I said. “How you feeling?” I stood up and slowly walked over to her, weary, but not really afraid. After all, I was the sword and shield now. One clenched fist and I would have a weapon. One the size of a letter opener, but still.

  She pushed herself up, and the blanket fell away from her, revealing her wound, the wound I’d made, which seemed even more healed now.

  My eyes flicked down to this, then back up.

  “Where am I?” she asked, looking around. “Are we on a boat?”

  “That we are.”

  “Where’s Jed? Mom and Dad?”

  Crap. I was terrible with this stuff. I wasn’t meant for comforting people. “I don’t know,” I said truthfully.

  She swung her feet down, pushing the covers away, revealing her stomach and panties.

  I forced myself to keep my eyes on her face.

  “It’s so warm,” she said, wiping her forehead, on which I saw no sweat, but I did see the little… well, horns, that were starting to grow there, and which her fingers had just missed swiping across.

  “How do you feel?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Thirsty.”

  I went to the kitchen and got her a bottle of water from the fridge.

  I turned around to walk it back to her, and found her right behind me.

  This time I did startle.

  She didn’t seem to notice, and took the bottle from me. “Thanks,” she said, cracked it open, and then chugged the whole thing down. She let out a sigh when she was done. “Wow, I was thirsty.”

  “No kidding.”

  My eyes scanned her body again, her full breasts, flat stomach, wide hips, and I was damn glad that I’d just been with Emma, otherwise…

  Well, it didn’t matter, because I had been, so I was under control.

  Hunter looked down at herself, then up at me. “Where’s my motorcycle gear?” She squinted at me, then seemed to remember something. “You stabbed me.” She looked at her right shoulder, which was uninjured, then her left, which had the wound from where I’d stabbed her.


  She ran her finger over it, frowned. Then she looked at me again. “I feel like I should thank you.”

  “Thank me?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know why exactly. I heard them, not talking. Maybe it wasn’t even hearing, but feeling. And something about my wound, it prevented them from… I don’t know what. I think it saved me.” She looked down at herself again, her dusky red skin. “Or, partially saved me. From turning into something worse. From losing control.”

  “Them? The aliens?”

  She nodded absently, then wiped at her forehead again, this time landing on one of the horns. She felt for the other one, found it. “I guess I’m not quite human anymore.” She looked down at my black hands, reached out and took one of them.

  I wanted to pull away, but I let her examine it. “I guess you aren’t either.” She pulled my hand against her chest, placing it under and against her left breast, the fabric of her bra soft against the edge of my open palm, which spanned the width of her narrow ribcage.

  “What—”

  “Do you feel my heart?”

  It took a moment, but yes, there it was. Faint, but there. I nodded.

  She sighed, and let my hand drop. “Good. I was too afraid to test it myself.” She looked around the boat. “We alone?”

  I shook my head. “Abigail and Emma—Emma is the nurse who saved you—they’re down below, sleeping.” This made me remember that this girl was supposed to have two broken legs.

  I looked down at them.

  And though I didn’t find the broken, gnarled things I was expecting—just smooth reddish skin—I for some reason lacked surprise at this discovery.

  She saw where I was looking, and looked down, herself. “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head. “Your legs don’t hurt?”

  “They feel fine. The only thing that hurts is my shoulder. And that doesn’t really hurt, just kind of… I don’t know, it throbs.”

  “How much do you remember?” I asked.

  “I remember everything. Chasing after you on the motorcycle, shooting your tire, you ramming me, jumping onto your truck—which was probably not very smart of me, but I got caught up in the moment—then seeing that you thought I was going to shoot you, then a moment later, before I could even react, that dark blade coming from your hand and entering me. Penetrating me.” She licked her lips, her eyes locked on mine as she said this. Then she swallowed, and went on. “Falling off and hitting the road so hard my whole body rattled, and then the pain—God how much it hurt—as I got run over. The sound, the vibration of my legs snapping in two.