by L M Lacee
She reminded her. ‘You would, so the ladies, or have you forgotten your mission already?’
Sighing wistfully, Peyton looked at Melody with a frown. ‘Oh, them and so rude.’
Melody and most of her guards laughed at the comment. They traversed the building, dodging children and harried women, until they came to two large swing doors leading into a makeshift kitchen.
Someone had created a small dining area with a few tables and chairs. It looked as though morning tea had just finished. Several women sat around drinking or desolately wiping down counters. Peyton’s nose twitched at the delightful smells wafting from the stove. She placed her hands on her hips and bellowed.
‘Esther Lioni, Helen Merson and Brenda Wilkson. Why are you and your ladies not on the shuttle?’
Brenda yelped as she dropped the plate she was holding. Several of the other women let go small screams of panic.
Melody sighed and softly said to her guards. ‘Such a sweet, delicately refined lady, we have as a leader.’
Brenda Wilkson was of medium height and a little on the plump side, due to her Irish ancestry. She was blessed with the English peaches and cream complexion and soft hazel eyes, which meshed nicely with her auburn hair. It always amused her she was often thought of as many years younger than her actual age.
Her best friend, Helen Merson, was the complete opposite to her, taller by three inches and slender, she had medium length blonde hair and blue eyes. Occasionally she had been heard to say she was three years older than Brenda. As yet no one had asked Brenda her age, because once again on occasion Helen was known to have a very cutting turn of phrase. And no one wanted to be on the wrong side of that blade.
The women had been friends since childhood and had grown up in a small village in England, called Lost-on-Trent. Peyton and Heather had found the name adorable, at least that was what Heather said. Peyton used other words that nobody listened to. Once they learned the name was not uncommon in England, the friends had spent countless hours researching similar place names to see who could find the most outrageous one.
Heather told the others that when Brenda and Helen’s village was wiped out from the Virus, only the two women remained. Over two thousand people died, including their families in that outbreak. Heather said, Helen told her, the army in those days roamed the country and when they came upon a village like theirs, they burned it to the ground. Unlike other countries who just had funeral pyres. The English Government mandated the army to burn any village that was ravaged by the Virus. When Heather asked Helen why they did that, she said she thought it was just expedient for them. Maybe because there were so many villages like hers, or the army were just numb to the deaths by then.
Brenda and Helen were forced to leave the only security they had ever known. Neither of them had ever left their village for anything other than the occasional vacation and never overseas. The friends had been forced to confront traveling throughout the desolate wastelands of England. Searching for another populated village or town, in the hopes, they would find a new home. Sadly, they found exactly what they had left, burnt out villages and towns ravaged by disease and uninhabitable. Finally, desperation made them pluck up the nerve to get a passage across the ocean to America. Where for a few years they along with several women their age and older banded together and ran a large hotel. Using the Undernet, they contacted women like themselves, skilled and alone. Offering them a home if needed or directing them to safe places to work and live. Some women had worked in the orphanages that Heather consulted with.
Peyton had come across Brenda, Helen and Esther’s names, when she had hijacked the list from the Government official, and saw what the future held for them. She had personally contacted each woman and explained what she and the others were doing and inviting them to take a chance at a new life.
Over a two-month period. Helen, Esther and Brenda contacted the five hundred plus woman they knew, and with Melody’s help, they all disappeared from the cities and towns they were living in. Then Darby slowly removed their names from records, making it appear as though the Virus had finally taken the women’s lives.
The three women had formed the Ladies' club, an organization that helped and organized life in Runnerdale and the surrounding towns. It had been a very fortuitous meeting for Peyton, when she had finally met both Brenda and Helen. One quiet and sweet with a will of iron and a kind word for everyone, the other a bit more reserved but bold with a heart of a lion. Then there was Esther Lioni, an American Italian who did not suffer fools and spoke her mind. She was invaluable to seeing to the heart of a matter and advising a solution.
Peyton knew they needed these women in the new world, and not just for their wisdom and patience, which she knew she and the others lacked. These women liked Darby and found her fascinating, rather than off-putting. This was always a vote in their favor as far as Peyton, Heather, and Melody were concerned. More importantly, the older women really liked the Warriors and had taken them all into their care, and the Warriors responded to their kindness.
Now, it seemed these thirty or so women were like the other women, Peyton and Melody had spent the morning rounding up and ensuring were placed on shuttles. For some unexplainable reason, all these women seemed to think they were not wanted or needed and no one would tell Melody or Peyton why. Which was why they were here to gather the last of the ladies and finally find out why her friends were not ready to leave.
Helen standing next to Brenda growled at Peyton. ‘What are you yelling about?’
Peyton stomped forward. ‘I am yelling because I was told when I woke this morning that you were not on board your ships. Melody and I have just spent the time since then and now making sure all the women, are on shuttles where you should be. Would one of you like to tell me why?’
‘We are too old, that is why.’ Brenda stated near tears.
Helen said as she wrung a cloth between her hands.
‘We…’ she waved her hand about. ‘Are all too old, we know that.’
‘Bullshit. Who the hell told you that?’ Demanded Peyton.
They all stopped talking as they watched Melody’s nemesis, sauntered into the room.
Peyton heard Melody softly curse. ‘Marta fucking Aude, I just knew it!’ She bet the bitch had something to do with this. She had often taken the woman to task about rumors she suspected she spread about Peyton. Melody had decided not long after the woman arrived at Runnerdale that Marta had a fascination with Peyton that was not healthy. She thought about having the woman banished from town but after careful consideration allowed her to stay where she could monitor her. She would be unsurprised to find the woman had been spying on Peyton or lying in wait for her to arrive here. Either way it was creepy.
Like Melody, Peyton neither liked nor trusted Marta Aude. She eyed her now with a feeling of exasperation. It was never good when Marta appeared out of the blue like this. In truth, she and Peyton seldom spoke since she had rebuffed Marta’s friendship. It seemed she had quickly discovered after arriving at Runnerdale that Peyton ran the towns. She had then made it her business to be wherever Peyton was, offering advice, criticizing people in her hearing, insinuating herself into situations and conversations. Peyton had even found her in the kitchen of her home, much to Melody’s fury.
Marta was the exact opposite of Peyton in every way possible; she was a tall, slim, dark-haired and dark-eyed French beauty, with a smooth unlined face. It was not genetics or age that had given her a youthful look, even though she let people believe it was. There was a lot of cosmetic surgery involved to make her appear as young as she did. She was closer to seventy-five than the twenty-five she purported to be.
Peyton had no problems with that, seriously who cared what age she was or how she maintained her looks, other than Marta it seemed. Both secrets had been published on the Undernet a few weeks after her arrival, thanks to one of Darby’s unnamed cyber-hackers, who they believe Marta angered.
Melody and Marta had clashed over Darby’s unwilling
ness to supply a name. Marta wanted Darby jailed or banished from Runnerdale unless she told her who had posted the information. Melody had laughed and told her the only one to leave would be her. The woman had then stupidly threatened Darby’s life, only to retract the threat when she had been dragged forcibly to a jail for three days by Melody.
Unfortunately, the woman had been the favored spokeswoman for the Government in the early days of the Virus. A fact she often told anyone stupid enough to listen to her and because of her fame, she decided that was enough to warrant her special considerations. Marta’s sisters and cousins were on Darby’s recommended list of scientists and had only been at Runnerdale for the last three months. Her cousin told Peyton, Marta was their older cousin, and it seemed she had been offered huge rewards to go off world, but had avoided leaving the planet so far.
She apparently felt she had not been adequately offered the right incentive to go to another world. Her sister had confided the actual truth to Peyton. Marta could not have children, because of a requested not medically required hysterectomy in her teenage years. She made it clear to Peyton, her family had very little love for the selfish woman. The only reason she was here was she had been hiding with them, when Melody’s soldiers had retrieved them. They feared what she would have done if they had not brought her with them.
Marta walked farther into the room and cooed to the Warriors, purring in a throaty voice. ‘Well, hello gentlemen.’
They stood unmoved, which had Trina trying to control her laughter. She had volunteered for the army and been accepted as a Warrior by Melody. Because she desperately wanted to be a soldier, and she had taught herself Coalition without a translator in three hours. She was now learning other languages from the Indorino Universe, it was not uncommon to see her in Peyton’s guard.
Marta kept her temper, losing it now would not accomplish anything more than getting her jailed again and that did not mesh with her long-range plans. She was no fool; she knew as far as the Government was concerned she had no commercial value, and because of that. She had decided very quickly, after the agreement was signed, to find a world she could rule or at least find a man she could influence. That was until she had come to Runnerdale, where she had looked around and realized she had a whole new game to play.
Unfortunately, it had not run as smoothly as she had hoped for. No one was enamoured by her beauty, wealth or status. Even being associated with her clever sisters did not endear her as she thought it should to Peyton or her weird sisters.
Now as she heard the snicker of laughter, her cheeks turned pink from temper rather than embarrassment, her eyes narrowed as she spied a smiling Trina.
Trina nudged Lukkas, whispering in Coalition knowing Marta would not have learned the language.
‘Touchy that one.’
Lukkas nodded, then whispered. ‘She hates Madam Peyton.’
‘Yep, that she does, but to be fair she hates any other female, especially Melody.’
Lukkas agreed then said. ‘Madam, more so, this female is not right in the head.’
‘You are right Lukkas.’ Trina agreed with him, thinking if someone did not like Peyton or Melody they were not in their right mind.
Marta swished her layered skirts and giggled in what she thought was a girly manner, which really wasn’t. Again Trina snickered.
Marta ignored the sound and affected surprise at seeing Peyton, an obvious fake response. Everyone who had been around town in the last few days, always knew when Peyton was about, due to the guards with her.
‘Oh Peyton, I didn’t see you there, which is strange really, as you are such a chubby little thing, aren’t you?’
A growl erupted from behind Peyton, Melody it seemed was unamused.
Marta smirked and quizzed. ‘Is that you Melody James, all dressed up playing soldier. You know chère you won’t attract a man like that.’
Irritated Melody made to move but Peyton’s hand on her arm stopped her. She hissed out a breath instead. When she was sure Melody would not move, Peyton crossed her arms and feigned boredom as she addressed the woman. ‘I have no time for your games this morning, Marta. What are you doing here?’
Smiling, she moved over to a table that four women were sitting around. When no one immediately vacated a chair, her lips tightened into a straight line of annoyance.
THIRTY-EIGHT:
Esther Lioni was of medium height and medium weight for an American Italian woman of seventy years. As far as she was concerned, she was not even middle-aged. When she noticed Peyton’s swift appraisal, she gave her hair a quick pat. She was still getting used to her new hairstyle.
Peyton hid her smile at Esther’s self-conscious reaction to her glance. She had been a little surprised to see her long black hair had been cut, but she liked what she saw. Esther was a beautiful woman, and Peyton thought the stylist had captured that well by framing her unlined face and emphasizing her bright blue eyes. She thought the woman had nothing to concern herself with, the new style suited her.
Esther ignored Marta’s attempts to get her to vacate her seat and frowned at the other three women when they made to stand up, stilling their movements. She sipped her tea as she eyed Marta with dislike.
Now Peyton and Melody were here, Esther knew the little French viper would be unable to get away with her bullying tactics. If Brenda had given the word, she and Helen would have seen to. ‘Miss better than everyone,’ weeks ago, but soft-hearted Brenda had not wanted to cause Marta’s family distress or make trouble for Peyton.
Giving up on the intimidation, Marta’s voice was a little sharper than she wanted as she smirked at Peyton over her shoulder and answered to her question.
‘I need food; this is where you come for food, isn’t that why you are here chère?’
Peyton grinned in return. ‘Kitchen’s closed, the ladies are leaving.’ She frowned as a thought occurred to her. ‘Marta, have you been telling people the women are too old to travel with us?’
Marta turned around and smiled pityingly at Peyton as Helen came to stand beside Melody. ‘Why, of course I did. Honestly Peyton, it makes sense. Why would we take women like them, who can add nothing to this venture? Seriously, at their age, what value would they have on our new world?’
Peyton glowed softly as she said. ‘That’s a bit rich, isn’t it coming from you?’
‘What do you mean chère?’
‘Well, you are older than most of the ladies you called old. Are you not?’
A red blush of outrage swiftly colored her high cheekbones as Marta snarled. ‘How dare you, I am in the prime of my life, unlike these sows? They have no right to even expect to come with us.’
Melody wanted to say that unlike her, all the women she scorned were going. Peyton had drawn up the list days ago, naming the women who would remain behind. It had upset her, Melody knew, but the women she placed on the list did not care how many they hurt or killed to get what they wanted.
Every woman had been investigated and found wanting. Before Melody set her investigators, the task of researching the women, she told them. Life was going to be hard enough, having to adapt to a new Universe with all its challengers. Taking women who would make it harder seemed stupid.
Peyton sighed as she hid the revulsion and anger she felt for the woman in front of her. It was not only Marta’s attitude of entitlement and constant grab for power and control, which barred her from leaving with them. She had discovered Marta had paid someone a large sum of credits to make sure Darby never reached their destination. She had not told Melody about the threat against Darby’s life, in fear of what she would have done. Thankfully Willian had told her before he told Melody or Hawk, who she was positive would have killed them both instantly. Instead, she had dealt with the assassin and would now deal with Marta.
Trina said softly to Lukkas. ‘You will notice, she did not deny the age thing.’
Lukkas nodded. ‘She did not. What is a sow?’
She whispered back. ‘I will explain la
ter.’
Peyton calmly asked Marta. ‘Who gave you the right?’
Marta leaned back against the table, crossed her legs at the ankle and affected a bored attitude as she inspected her nails. ‘Oh, I have an understanding with the délicieux Commander Roeah, he and I are well… how can I put this délicatement... we pillow talk.’
She looked at Peyton through half-closed eyes and just knew she desired the gorgeous Commander Roeah, just as every red-blooded woman did. Even his name sent delicious tendrils of desire hot and heavy through her veins. She would have the Commander in her bed or wherever she wanted him. Then she would have Peyton St. Hill and her weird sisters and friends all right where she wanted them, under her thumb.
She laughed silently as she thought about how these people were imbéciles, they had a wonderful opportunity to rule Earth and were squandering it. All these Warriors under the Command of one man was a gold mine, a man she was determined to control. She knew the Earth soldiers would be no match for the Warriors; she had seen them in training. Marta had come to the conclusion very quickly after the Commander had arrived at Runnerdale, that together they would rule the world.
In her world it had been a logical plan. Now all those magnifique plans were destroyed, she had woken this morning to an almost empty town. It appeared as though an evacuation was taking place; they were really leaving Earth.
So over her breakfast she had devised another plan. She and the magnifique Commander would now rule this unknown world they were going to. It was a much better idea, the new world would worship her as the star she was. With the Commander and his Warriors at her command, there was no telling what heights she could reach. Now to make sure she set her plan in motion to take over from Peyton, she laughed as she said slyly.
‘It is called amour, chère, not something you would know anything about.’
Peyton glowed a little more as the Warriors moved away from her. She asked the smiling Marta. ‘Let me get this straight, you are trying to say you and Commander Roeah are having sex and he told you…’ She stabbed her finger at her for emphasis. ‘Esther, Brenda and Helen, along with all the other members of the Ladies' club are not worth taking. Is that what you are saying, Marta?’
