Tower in the Woods

by Tara Quan

  Carefully sidling over to the left, Dane turned into an even smaller room that was filled with broken pieces of wood. From the looks of the randomly sized splinters, everything that had been blown up by the explosion had been carted into the small closet, ensuring Nel would have enough firewood for the foreseeable future. There was another room slightly farther down the hall that seemed filled with an assortment of books—it looked as if a small public library had been raided and the entire contents brought into the tower. Dane figured this cult leader wanted to make sure Nel didn’t blow her brains out due to boredom. It was a good thing the sniper liked to read.

  It then occurred to Dane that if Nel had really wanted to leave she could have brought over a large enough pile of wood and textbooks to create a weighted anchor before tying the rope around the collected mass in order to climb down. It wouldn’t be the safest way out but it definitely was possible. Then he remembered she didn’t even have shoes let alone any kind of backpack to hold items necessary for survival. She was situated in a forest literally filled with the undead. She didn’t even know the URV vaccine existed so she couldn’t possibly have been inoculated. Even taking the cult’s propaganda out of the equation, leaving the tower blind would be a death sentence.

  The sniper may be brainwashed, but she definitely wasn’t naive. What little space was left in the wood closet was filled with food, weapons, and bullets, along with a number of other essential supplies. Combined with the items in the sniper’s nest, Dane’s conservative estimation told him Nel could survive in this tower for years, even without any significant resupplying from the WITCH’s headquarters. The sniper was prepared to be isolated, and precautions had been made in case the cult abandoned her. Dane stored away that information for future use—such caution made the sniper’s loyalty more questionable than he had first assumed.

  Grabbing an armful of firewood, Dane carefully stepped back into Nel’s room and closed the door. It had been draftier outside, and they needed to conserve heat. The sniper had been busy in his absence. A few sheepskins were spread onto the floor directly in front of the fireplace, making a small pallet that could be slept on. The covered area was too small for his large body but it was going to have to do. What looked like an extremely large hand-knitted blanket was bundled over Nel’s body, and his jacket was draped on top of the blanket over her shoulders. She sat on the covered floor with her arms around her legs, that pointed chin perched forlornly on her knees. After quickly feeding the wood into the dying flames, Dane sat behind the sniper.

  “The best way to warm both of us up is to share body heat. Are you okay with that?” Dane asked even as he pulled his jacket off those small shoulders and proceeded to unwind the wool blanket from her body.

  Nel glanced at him without turning her head. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” she questioned as she positioned herself against his chest, her firm butt nestling between Dane’s legs so her entire body was cocooned in his warmth.

  He slung his jacket over his shoulders before bundling the wool blanket around both of them like a tent. Immediately, Dane felt warmer, and his taut body slowly relaxed. For now the crisis was over.

  They both stayed in that position for a long while until the fire burned brightly and their bodies warmed up enough for both of them to stop shivering. Dane was amazed he had been able to remain perfectly still. He felt every womanly inch of Nel’s back. He smelled the almost lemony scent wafting off her skin. Being a normal, healthy male, he had a stiff boner straining against his zipper the entire time. In fact, his erection was still pressing squarely into the cleft of Nel’s buttocks. Luckily she didn’t seem to notice. Hell, even if she did, she probably didn’t know what it meant. Her innocent obliviousness made the past hour the most exquisite torture he had ever experienced.

  “If you reach over to that black box over there,” Nel said as she pointed her chin toward a standard military issue first-aid kit by the fireplace, “I can help patch up your wounds.”

  Very reluctantly Dane unwrapped himself from around Nel’s body and moved his jacket back onto her shoulders before leaning over to grab the case. He dropped the kit into Nel’s lap upon his return, sitting so he faced her rather than enveloping her from behind. She shook a little because of the absence of his body heat, but her cheeks were now healthily flushed. That calm blue-eyed gaze was fixed on the blood smears on his chest. “I know it’s cold but I need you to take off your shirt.”

  Feeling a sexual thrill course through his body, Dane wordlessly pulled off his T-shirt. Smug male satisfaction filled him when he saw the way that blue-eyed gaze appreciatively glanced over his muscled torso. The fact Nel noticed his muscle tone made the countless hours of physical exertion completely worth the effort. Her pupils were slightly dilated and she breathed a little harder as her face turned a darker shade of pink. She was sexually responding to him; she just didn’t have the wherewithal to notice the signs.

  With efficient movements, Nel pulled out what was probably an expired antiseptic wipe. Expertly, she ran the moist tissue over the scratches on Dane’s shoulder before using a Q-tip to spread first-aid cream on the gashes. Once she finished cleaning off the caked-over blood, she concluded, “I don’t think you need stitches.”

  Dane left his shirt off as he turned his hands palms up in front him. “Would you mind?”

  He didn’t know why, but there was something utterly erotic about having Nel delicately touch his hands. As he watched those small fingers move deftly to clean his wounds, Dane couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel to have this female touch other parts of his body with the same focused determination or, better yet, how it would feel to run his own hands over her smooth, silky skin. She was completely absorbed by her task, her head bent so far down blonde tendrils of hair fell to veil the sides of her face. With an unconscious movement, she tucked the golden strands behind her ears, biting slightly on her lower lip as she dabbed at the abrasions that were already scabbing over.

  “What was that rope made out of, anyway?” Dane asked as he recalled the biting feel of fibers digging into his skin. While climbing up it had felt as if he were running his hands along copper wires.

  “Most raw materials are scavenged off the bodies of zombies,” the sniper replied vaguely as she cleaned off the last of his wounds.

  Horror curled at the pit of his stomach, momentarily subduing his erection. Dane practically yelled, “Shit. That was zombie hair, wasn’t it?” A shudder ran down his spine, one that had nothing to do with the room’s low temperature. Some things were just simply too disgusting for words.

  “Human hair is one of the strongest fibers on this planet,” Nel noted emotionlessly as she tossed the dirtied wipes into the fire. “Would you like me to bandage your hands?”

  “Nah. I heal quickly. It’s one of the side effects of the URV vaccine. I bet the fact that the rope is slippery as hell has more to do with your escape options than tensile strength,” Dane noted, carefully watching those troubled blue eyes.

  Nel simply shrugged. “You can stop making innuendos. I’m not ignorant. I understand perfectly what lengths Mother went through to deter me from trying to leave. It was logical.”

  “Do you seriously believe there’s a big bad she-god out there looking over you?” Dane couldn’t help but ask. Despite the wide variety of books he glimpsed outside he couldn’t help but notice everything Nel had brought into her sniper’s nest were related to science and medicine. It didn’t make sense for someone with such a deep interest in a fact-based vocation to buy into the teachings of this cult.

  Nel let out a beleaguered sigh. “No. I do not believe in Mother as a god. I follow the dictates of the prophet because it is part of a system that has kept all of us alive, a system that has protected me and everyone I know from the death and destruction that surrounds us. I don’t have faith in a supernatural being but I have faith in the WITCH.”

  Surprised by her candor, Dane felt his esteem for the sniper rise a few notches. She might b
e brainwashed, but she had the smarts to see through most of the rubbish. Given she didn’t know an alternative to the WITCH existed, he wasn’t sure he could blame her for accepting the hand she was dealt. “And what if I told you the WITCH was evil?” Dane asked.

  The gaze that met his was cool and emotionless. “There is no such thing as good and evil. We all need to find a way to survive and there are costs to that.”

  “Costs like locking a girl up in a tower for her entire life?” Dane asked. “How long have you been in this prison? When was the last time you stepped out into the sun?”

  For an instant, the resolve in those eyes wavered. “It was better that it was me,” Nel said finally. “I was the only one in the WITCH who had the personality type that wouldn’t make this assignment a living hell. I am self-contained. I can subsist without the company of others. I volunteered so no one else would have to.”

  “How long has it been, Nel?” Dane pushed her, sensing weakness. Carefully, he pulled that reluctant body against his chest, circling his arms around her small frame even as he felt humbled by her strength. “How long has it been since you’ve touched anyone besides me?”

  There were only a few seconds of resistance before Nel completely relaxed against him. Whether she cared to admit it or not, every person craved human contact. Her isolation was going to make intimacy between them irresistible, and Dane intended to take every advantage of it.

  *

  “Eleven years,” Nel whispered as she surrendered herself in the warmth of Dane’s hold. It felt incredible to be touched, to simply be held by another this way. She hadn’t realized how much she craved this basic connection, how she missed the easy ebb and flow of warmth between two bodies. She had needed this. She hadn’t realized until this very moment she had needed to be touched almost as much as she needed to breathe.

  As she closed her eyes and let Dane fold her into his warm arms, Nel’s thoughts drifted to the night she had turned sixteen. It had been a sunny day with nary a cloud in the sky, and she had been excited at the prospect of finding out what she was going to be doing for the rest of her life. Recruits didn’t get to choose their vocation but instead were assigned tasks based on attributes and skills. She had hoped she would be assigned the same task as Michelle, her best friend, who was going to spend the rest of her days patrolling the outer perimeter of the WITCH’s compound.

  Then Mother Gothel had told Nel about the Tower in the woods, and Nel had barely been able to hold herself together as she practically stumbled out of the door of the prophet’s office. She accepted, of course she accepted, for she hadn’t exactly been given a choice. She understood it was a huge honor, that it was her duty to do what was best for the collective, and that she was the best person for the job. But the thought of spending her life without ever speaking to another person, the thought of never being touched, of never sharing a meal, of never making eye contact with anyone else but the prophet made her feel as if her heart had turned to lead.

  “Shit, Zapper. So the rumors are true,” Michelle said as she ran toward Nel, who had made her way blindly to the outermost warehouse where she and Michelle often met. They were in the same age group, and the soldier was one of the best fighters Nel had ever seen. The only person in the compound taller than Nel, they had first met when Michelle was eight and Nel was six, and the two had been joined at the hip ever since. With dark chocolate skin and bulging muscles, the eighteen-year-old soldier cut a striking image even from a distance.

  Numbly, Nel nodded. “I should have seen it coming. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

  “When do you go?” Michelle asked urgently as they both sat on the floor. “Here, drink this.”

  The clear liquid burned as it went down Nel’s throat, somehow instantly numbing the fear and apprehension she felt. “Tonight. Mother already had my personal items taken over there, wherever this Tower is supposed to be.”

  “The old lady wants to make sure you don’t have time to cut and run,” Michelle remarked with a hint of hatred. “You’re the best sniper she has.”

  Nel shook her head, taking another long swill of whatever Michelle had given her. Now that she expected the feel of liquid heat, she found the drink rather appealing, and it seemed to dull the sharp desolation she felt when she thought about her future. Despite her natural reserve, Nel found herself giving away more information than she should. “Mother knows I won’t run. If I do, she’ll send you to the Tower instead. She more or less told me so. You’d go crazy in less than a week and you know it.”

  Michelle’s hard jaw clenched, her almost ebony eyes flashing with temper. “I hope you didn’t accept because of some harebrained notion that you need to save me. If she made me that offer I would just run. I’m sick and tired of this place.”

  Slowly Nel shook her head as she took another careful sip. “I accepted because someone has to do it, and I can’t think of anyone else who will suffer from it less than me. I’m not good with people like you are, and I don’t like being surrounded by others the way you do. I can spend time inside my head without driving myself insane. I’ve already asked Mother to put the entire contents of the public library into the Tower to keep me occupied. She thought it was a good idea, especially once I mentioned the books can be burned for fuel. I can keep myself occupied in the Tower, Michelle. No one else I know would survive that kind of isolation.”

  Heaving a sigh, Michelle laughed bitterly. “Well, well, aren’t you the little martyr. Next you’ll be telling me that you buy into the whole ‘god is Mother’ and ‘there is an afterlife’ bullshit the old lady spews.”

  Feeling a little dizzy, Nel closed her eyes. “No, I don’t buy it either. There’s nowhere to run, Michelle. Even if there were, we don’t have the supplies we would need to survive more than a day or two out there. If we run now, we’ll die. That much I know for sure.”

  “So what are you saying? We’ll never see each other again?” Michelle asked in a slightly choking voice.

  Not able to say the words, Nel nodded. This was it. This was good-bye. If she tried to fight this decision neither she nor Michelle would make it out of the compound alive. Nel didn’t cry often, especially not in front of other people, but this once she allowed emotion to overwhelm her. Before she knew it she was sobbing so hard her shoulders heaved and her face was buried against Michelle’s shoulder as her friend held her, gently rubbing her back and rocking her like a child. Through the misty haze, Nel realized Michelle too was crying silent tears. What else was there to do when all choice had been taken from them?

  Before she knew it, Nel felt Michelle’s plush lips moving against hers, and her eyes popped open as she realized what was happening. Michelle’s hands were moving against Nel’s body, touching her in a way that wasn’t platonic, crushing Nel’s chest against her more voluptuous breasts with a hint of desperation.

  Words of protest came to her lips. What they were doing was wrong—it was against every rule Mother had ever taught her. She didn’t want this to happen. But at the same time, Nel was curious. Considering the plans Mother had for her, ignoring doctrine just this once didn’t seem so terrible. After all, what could Mother do to her that was worse than her current sentence?

  “Don’t worry,” Nel heard Michelle say as the soldier’s rough hands pulled her T-shirt over her head. Nel felt her body being lowered to the ground before Michelle undid the bindings that covered her breasts. “No one will find out. I’ve seen you spy on me when I make out with Angela—I know you’ve always wondered what the bad girls do when the prophet’s not looking.”

  Horrified yet oddly aroused, Nel suddenly realized she had no idea what to do. Deciding to go along with what was happening, she held still as Michelle took the lead. Soon, she felt the cold air against her bare breasts. As Michelle pinched Nel’s nipple, the soldier continued to speak. “We couldn’t let you go off to this Tower without even experimenting, now can we?”

  Nel tried to surrender to what was happening as Michelle slowly un
did Nel’s pants and pulled them down. Then Michelle’s thumb probed the moist folds at her opening, slipping in and out of the tight sheath as the soldier’s lips closed over Nel’s breast. It didn’t feel wrong; it felt a little nice even, but after a while Nel realized she wasn’t responding the way the soldier wanted her to. Whatever was supposed to happen, whatever Michelle wanted her to feel, it just wasn’t there.

  It was Michelle who stopped, laughing a little as she slowly pulled her fingers out of Nel’s raw flesh. “So you don’t feel it, huh?” her best friend asked.

  Nel shook her head. “No, I don’t think you do either.”

  Flopping over to lie onto the floor next to Nel, Michelle remarked, “Damn it, Zapper. I don’t get it. You’re hot. I’m hot. We like each other. We get along so well. But, yeah, no sparks.”

  Rolling her eyes, Nel couldn’t resist pointing out, “It seems to work just fine when you and Angela do it. What possessed you to make a pass at me in the first place?”

  Smiling sheepishly, Michelle confessed. “I’m sorry. It’s just that Angela got me so hot and bothered, and I was frustrated as hell. The girl’s fanatical and I spend more time talking her down from a guilt-ridden ledge than I do fooling around. I thought if I tried doing it with someone else maybe I would get over the prude. She believes every last doctrine that comes out of the old lady’s mouth, and each time we do it she swears she’ll never let me touch her again. I figured since you are about to be sentenced to a lifetime of celibacy, you wouldn’t mind the experience.”