by Michael Todd
Monroe chuckled. “Yeah, well, risking your squad’s specialist might seem stupid in hindsight, but considering that you would all die if you didn’t do something, it was a calculated risk.”
“It was a calculated risk, Monroe,” he said and sipped his beer. “But I clearly suck balls at math.”
“You can call me Courtney while we’re not in the field,” she said. “And, well, I always had a low opinion of independent contractors. You know, people brought in here by third parties almost against their will. It seems like a lose-lose situation, since they don’t actually want to be here, and we’re stuck with a person who isn’t committed to the whole operation, you know? It’s always best when they bring in volunteers, but you proved me wrong about the other guys.”
“Wait, what?” Sal asked. “What do you mean, third parties? I thought the government bought out my contract.”
“The government can’t buy out contracts from private companies,” Courtney said matter-of-factly.
“But agents dragged me out of my home,” Sal growled. “They wore suits and carried badges. It was very official. They kicked my door in for good measure.”
Courtney tilted her head as she considered this. “Well, I guess the government can help with bringing in new contractors considering it is a government project.”
“So the whole reason I was rushed over here was that one of the specialists was wounded in the last trip he took into the Zoo, and they couldn’t find a replacement in time?” He shook his head. “I won’t lie, I feel fucked over right now.”
She nodded. “Well, there is a silver lining to all this. Kennedy says you’re one of the best specialists she’s ever worked with. I’d say, from what little I saw of you in action, that I agree. And considering the list of specialists we’ve both worked with in the past, that’s quite an honor.”
Sal couldn’t help a smirk. “Well. Thanks, Mo—Courtney. I really appreciate it. Although I can’t imagine being in a place like that and not helping everyone get out alive. I seem to recall you saved my bacon once, so that makes you the best specialist I’ve ever worked with. Since you’re my first, though, it’s not as high an honor.”
“I’m your first?” Courtney said and raised an eyebrow.
“My first…specialist,” he added lamely.
“Right.” She laughed and winked, but Sal’s eyes were drawn to the other side of the room. Kennedy and Addams talked privately at a nearby table. He remembered the closeness they’d shared and the idiotic twinge of jealousy he’d felt when he first saw it. Stupidly, he felt it now too.
Courtney followed his eyes and looked away. She made a face. “Well, Jacobs—”
“If I can call you Courtney,” he interrupted, “you can call me Sal. My friends do. It’s much easier than saying ‘Salinger.’”
“Right,” she said with a chuckle. “Well, Sal, I have to say that I look forward to working with you in the future.”
Sal smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. “Likewise,” he said, but he was distracted by the fact that he had initiated physical contact himself. It seemed so out of character for him. His gaze followed Kennedy and Addams as they made a subtle exit from the pub, but he shook his head, pushed those annoying thoughts aside, and he decided to join the conversation.
He was only a beer in, but he already felt more outgoing. Pub talk and the shoulder touch were two things he didn’t do. Maybe he felt bolder because of the hell they’d all gone through together.
Or maybe he was simply a lightweight when it came to alcohol.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sal dragged himself into bed. He’d slept most of the day so wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t tired, but he couldn’t help feeling that he should probably get as much sleep as he could during the off times. There was no telling how much he’d get when the times were on again.
He’d tossed and turned in his new little bed in his new little apartment—not exactly what he’d call restful. The fact that any wrong movement sent shafts of pain through his body didn’t help either, so he’d consigned himself to the shittiest night of sleep ever.
Which was why frustration surged when someone knocked at the door as he finally dozed off.
Sal groaned and stood. He swayed and took a moment to find his balance before he limped to the door. Another knock sounded, lighter than the first.
“Yeah, yeah, wake me up in the dead of night, and I’m the asshole because you had to wait,” he grumbled. He fumbled his first attempt to open the door when he groped for a handle instead of the knob. Annoyed, he muttered a curse and twisted to pull it wide.
“Evening, sailor.” For a moment, he wasn’t sure whose voice it was. It sounded familiar but throatier than he remembered.
“Kennedy?” he asked but she put a finger on his lips to shut him up as she slipped inside, close enough to press her body against his as she closed and locked the door behind her.
“No need for formalities tonight, Sal,” she whispered. She trailed her finger lightly down his cheek and over his neck. Tingles of sensation shivered through his body as she moved closer and pressed her lips where her fingers had been.
Sal sucked in a breath when she pulled away. It was odd to hear her call him Sal. It had been ‘Jacobs’ or ‘Doctor’ or some combination of the two since they’d met, and he hadn’t expected that to change.
She slipped around him, took him by the hand, and guided him to the bedroom.
“What are you doing here?” he finally managed to ask.
“I’m here for a little fun,” Kennedy murmured, pulled him in, and pressed her lips to his neck. She slid her hands down his back to grip his ass firmly.
“Are you drunk?” he asked, not sure why he was reluctant. It had to be a dream. Even drunk, she hadn’t seemed like the kind of person to jump someone she barely knew. But what the hell did he know about her anyway?
“Please,” she said and chuckled as she walked him backward until the single bed pressed against his hamstrings. “It takes more than a couple of beers to get me drunk. I’m…pleasantly buzzed, is all.” She pushed him back into the bed. He landed with a soft grunt, but she didn’t follow immediately.
Kennedy pulled her shirt over her head, shimmied out of it—more for his benefit than her own—and unclasped her bra. Her shoes were kicked off next, but when she pulled her pants down, she turned to give him a good view of her backside as she bent and guided them and her panties all the way down to her ankles. By the time she straightened and kicked them aside, Sal felt he could ignore a couple of aches and pains.
“I mean,” he said in one last weak attempt, “I thought you and—”
“Shh,” she said and placed her finger on his lips once again. “There’s only one word I want to hear on your lips tonight, Sal, and that’s Madigan.”
“M…Madigan?” Sal asked and raised an eyebrow. Oh, right, that was her first name. How could he forget? Well, the naked woman beside his bed might explain it. The light was off, and even though it was dark, his eyes had adjusted and the soft moonlight that filtered in made her body almost breathtaking. She was tall, lean, and athletic, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have curves. Her breasts were more than a handful each, and from what Sal could see, she possessed a firm, round ass too.
The finger on his lips trailed down over his bare chest to rest on the growing bulge under the pants he still wore. She curled her fingers around it and stroked slowly.
“Oh…fuck,” Sal breathed.
Kennedy smiled and licked her lips as she slipped her fingers into his pants. “You know, make that two words,” she whispered in his ear as she pulled his cock out. “Madigan and…fuck.”
Sal leaned back and watched her kiss lightly down his chest. She paused to twirl her tongue over his right nipple, kissed down his stomach, and used her hand to guide his cock into her mouth. He held his breath as she ran her tongue lightly over the head before she opened her lips around it and sucked and moaned softly.
Sal’s whole
body tightened at the sensation. His toes curled, and he gritted his teeth as a low growl rumbled from deep inside his chest. She bobbed her head and took more and more of his shaft into her mouth with each downward motion as her fingers cupped and caressed his balls.
Finally, he gripped the back of her head and pulled her away. She looked him defiantly in the eye.
Kennedy knew what he wanted, and he could tell that she wanted it too. She licked her lips again and climbed quickly on top of him to straddle his waist as she guided him into her and sank down slowly. Her eyes rolled toward the back of her head and her lips parted as a low groan of pleasure escaped her when she ground against him.
Sal put one hand on her waist to balance her as she rode him with increasing speed. He used the other to explore her body, stroke her hips, and cup her breasts. She rested her hands on either side of his head and pushed harder. He felt some small discomfort, but it was easily ignored as he held her close to him and his hips rose to meet hers.
She gasped, and her head dropped to kiss and bite at his shoulder as her pussy tightened around him.
“Oh, fuck…Sal,” she whispered and gripped him closer to her as she pushed harder for his sake now rather than hers. His hips bucked and his cock twitched inside her as he came quickly. His hands gripped her and his body tightened, pressing him into her as he kissed her lips.
“Fuck, Madigan,” he muttered hoarsely and bit her bottom lip before he fell back on his bed and gasped. She lay breathlessly on top of him.
They remained silent because nothing needed to be said. They wound down from their respective highs, and she slipped off and climbed out of bed.
She pressed a light kiss quickly to his lips. “And that’s my way of saying thank you,” she whispered and stroked his cheek.
“Any chance I get to say, ‘You’re welcome?’” he wondered aloud, and she chuckled.
“Maybe sometime,” she replied and pulled her clothes on hastily. Before he could ask her to stay the night, she had gone. He lay quietly, his brain still numb with disbelief, and finally, drowsiness took over and he drifted to sleep.
Chapter Thirty
Sal smirked and leaned back in his seat. He’d met up with Madigan a couple of times after that night and even headed out for another trip into the Zoo with her. She’d called him Jacobs and he’d called her Kennedy, and it was business as usual. She acted like she hadn‘t come to his room that night—almost three months ago now—and he decided he should probably do the same. He didn’t know what the protocol was for stuff like that. It wasn’t like he’d had to deal with one-night stands that often, but keeping his mouth shut seemed like the best option.
It had been almost surreal, and the next morning, Sal had thought it had all been a dream courtesy of the painkillers the doctors had given him and the admittedly small amount of alcohol he’d consumed. He’d always heard it was dangerous, and maybe the combination was responsible for an intense but pleasurable hallucination. He’d gotten up the next morning, chuckled about it, and promised himself he’d never mention it to her lest he die of shame.
But, as he’d started to unpack his meager belongings and arrange the place to suit his tastes, he’d found a pair of panties. They weren’t his and hadn’t been in his room the night before. Thin, lacy, and pure black, they had the initials M.K. embroidered on the back.
He now had irrefutable evidence that she’d really been there that night.
Sal glanced back at his work. He’d finished his dissertation, made all the adjustments, and caught all the typos, and it was ready for submission to the board.
Despite the inner sense of achievement, he didn’t want to submit it yet. It wasn’t that he felt anxious about it. He knew it would blow minds and rock foundations. This was the first dissertation written on the biological findings of the alien life forms in the Kudzu, and he had no doubt that it would be enough to earn him the elusive doctorate everyone assumed he already had. It was more the knowledge that it would be studied and he would most likely have to defend his findings in front of the board. That was an unpleasant thought, one he was sure he would have to learn restraint for. Those people would question something he had experienced first-hand in three trips into the Zoo, after all.
But the biggest hurdle was that he didn’t actually want to leave. The man-child who complained about the hard life he was forced into was long gone. He’d turned over a new leaf that he had been determined to turn, and he was ready for more. Maybe in a couple years, when he’d made enough money and no longer wanted to risk his life to gather knowledge, he could go home. It wasn’t like there would be other doctoral students out there working on the same thing.
Sal turned to his other project. It was a letter of resignation which requested the termination of his contract and for him to remain involved in the missions that were launched into the Zoo from the Staging Area. It had been Courtney’s idea. She’d told him that so long as he was tied down by that damned contract, he had to share any and all findings with the government and the corporations that had this whole operation by the low and nasties. Even with the extra costs, the people who worked as freelancers without any contractual ties made a hell of a lot more money than their counterparts. He decided to test that hypothesis.
Sal had a lot to gain and very little to lose if he could drop that kind of dead weight. He had a lot of plans that he didn’t want to share with greedy and uninvolved higher-ups. He was done with them all.
The letter was ready, and he pressed send and dropped the file into the Staging Area’s database.
Less than a minute later, a response waited in his inbox. His letter of resignation was accepted, and they were all so very sad to hear about his decision and hoped he would reconsider in the future, blah blah blah. Oh, and attached was a bill for his living arrangements, rent, and health insurance included in a single package.
Sal assumed they had to do this since anyone living around there could drop dead at any given day or hour. It was better to have all the bills already paid so the government didn’t lose any of its paydays.
He was fine with that and saved the bill to be paid later.
That accomplished, he leaned back and spun his chair to look at the plant on his bedside table. It had grown considerably in the past couple of months and three flowers had already bloomed, with a fourth close to opening. Sal expected it to show bright blue color any day now. He kept meticulous records of the plant, even though he thought it was safer to keep it in the containment box. It allowed light and air but didn’t release any of the pesky pheromones. He really didn’t need the Zoo animals hunting it down and going crazy in the middle of the Staging Area. That was bad for business.
“What will we do, Madigan? Will to take over the world or save it?” he asked the plant as he stretched his arms. “That’s the problem with taking a young genius to his playground of choice. You never know which direction he’ll go in when he achieves the impossible.”
The plant said nothing in return. He’d started the habit of talking to it while he worked on his dissertation, and not once had it shown any sign of higher intelligence. Oh, well, a guy could dream.
He turned back to his computer and typed a new message, this one addressed to Sergeant Madigan Kennedy.
Dear Sergeant Kennedy,
I hope this letter finds you well. I’ve canceled my contract but have decided to continue my work here. I’ll start my own company and will call it Heavy Metal. If you are interested, confirm you will meet me at the Mechanized Merchants 800 tomorrow. Wear your mech pilot suit.
Regards, Salinger Jacobs.
He pressed Send, leaned back once again, and sighed. It was a shot in the dark. If she said no, he was both willing and able to fulfill his dream of working for himself there. He had learned enough over the few months to be able to take care of himself. Even so, Kennedy had been there when he first started, and he really wanted her to help him see his dreams through. He couldn’t imagine that all she wanted was to be able
to retire with a tidy little fortune.
Then again, what did he really know about her dreams?
His computer pinged, and he saw she had already replied. Sal’s heart hammered as he clicked it open. It was only one word, but it was enough to put a smile on his face.
Confirmed.
Chapter Thirty-One
Sal had adjusted to the early mornings. It came naturally when you alternated between living on a military base or in the field with military people. They didn’t force him to wake up early unless he was in the Zoo. But that was a hostile environment where adrenaline-filled action was one dumb mistake away. They’d kept the stupidity to a minimum over the past few trips, and Sal felt better about his abilities in there. He’d even bought a handgun of his own for the trips. It was smaller than the massive handguns they gave the gunners, but from his recent experience, it had sufficient stopping power against the small to mid-sized animals the Zoo threw at him. He hadn’t needed it as much in his last two trips as he would have in his first, but he felt safer with it around and ready for action.
Once or twice, he’d even taken it to the Staging Area’s shooting range for target practice. He hadn’t scored well with targets farther than fifty meters, but the sergeant in charge told him that it was to be expected from anything without the long barrel of a rifle. Sal decided to take him at his word and focused on his reaction time at short ranges instead.
This morning, though, he felt better about it all. He felt excited and a little terrified, but the whole situation was uncharted territory. That made him feel like he headed into the Zoo for the first time, but without the pants-shitting terror that had involved.
The renewed confidence faltered as he left his apartment and his gaze went instinctively to the Zoo. It inched relentlessly toward the wall they were building, but it approached the Staging Area as well. Not only that, it grew faster than anyone had anticipated, which made everyone who currently resided in the base worried that they’d be overtaken by the jungle. They’d altered the trajectory of the wall to include a section that would shield the base from the Zoo when it reached the area.