Wasteland Treasure (The Deviant Future Book 2)

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Wasteland Treasure (The Deviant Future Book 2) Page 9

by Eve Langlais


  “I know where we can go, but you’ll have to squeeze through a tight spot,” she said.

  “Meaning it will be very hard for them to follow. That’s good. We should make this place look abandoned. Toss some dirt around, spread some leaves.”

  “If they’ve seen me, it won’t matter.”

  “Let’s assume they haven’t.” Because he doubted they’d wait to attack if they had. “If they think this place abandoned, they won’t look as hard.”

  “Leaving the door opens makes it easier for things to come in, you do realize that?”

  “If any come close, then that will mean fresh meat for breakfast.”

  The remark made her laugh. “If it doesn’t eat you first.”

  “I’ve got tough skin. Let’s set the scene.”

  It didn’t take long with her doing most of the work quickly, hiding anything that might appear as if someone still lived here, while he stole the blankets from the bed then bundled the fur covering the foliage mattress. Taking handfuls of the mattress, he did his best to throw it around.

  Sofia grumbled, “You’re making a huge mess.”

  “Better a bit of tidying later than not waking up at all.”

  He wished he knew if there were more soldiers out here. He’d smashed the headset of the one he’d disposed of, meaning he couldn’t check if he’d had a comm system active. For all he knew, the guy relayed the fact they weren’t alone to others.

  But surely if he had, they’d have attacked by now.

  “I don’t think there’s anything more we can do to wreck the place,” she said.

  “Both doors are wide open?”

  “Front door is leaning partially on the floor. Looks like someone used to live here but nature is slowly taking over.”

  “Perfect. You have a weapon?”

  “A knife.”

  “Gun?”

  “A broken one in my bag.”

  “Which is useless.” A rule learned young was never use a damaged firearm. It tended to fuck up the person pulling the trigger.

  “Well excuse me. I found it today and grabbed it.”

  “Lead me to this hiding spot you were talking about.”

  “It’s through the collapsed hall to the right of the table.”

  He knew the hole she meant. He’d groped it earlier. It would be tight. “Have you used it often for hiding?”

  “In the beginning, I slept there every night. It’s only got a small hole in the ceiling, meaning fresh air to breathe, but only one way in.”

  Which meant one way out. He didn’t quite like it, but then again, defending one entrance would be simpler than two. He had to hope it didn’t come to them fighting anyone off.

  Kitty had left as they prepped, and Sofia didn’t seem concerned. Given the size of the feline, it seemed doubtful much would bother it. He just hoped Kitty knew to stay clear of any soldiers. Bullets would easily penetrate the soft fur.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  She placed his hand on the rubble forming the hole. “It’s tight only for the first few crawls, and then it gets wider.”

  Not the most reassuring thing, but then again, he couldn’t see, which meant he just had to pretend there were big open spaces around him. He heard her scooting, her arms full of fabric. He had his own bundle, and he tucked it to his chest as he crouched.

  The slanted slab that formed the triangular entrance required him going in at an angle then doing a weird side shuffle until the slant tilted, making it easier to waddle. They kept quiet as they moved, only the brush of feet marring the silence. He did his best to pretend the ruins weren’t closing in. Fought to not think of what might happen if the rubble suddenly shifted. Seismic vibrations still happened from time to time. What if a tremor hit while they were trapped in here?

  She whispered softly, “We’ve reached the room.”

  “Can I stand?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Still clutching the blankets, he rose, feeling some of his tension ease as he felt the space around him expand. He trailed his fingers over the wall and counted in his head, trying to get a sense of size for the space. Larger than expected. Taller, too, enough he couldn’t touch a ceiling.

  “It’s big,” he said softly, the sound louder than he liked in the echoey space.

  “It is. I’m not sure what it used to be. I do know it was used before by someone else.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “It was clean. Emptied of debris.”

  “Why did you stop sleeping in here?” he asked.

  “Well, having a large cat as your companion helps, but mostly because at one point I realized I didn’t want to be hiding all the time. And what if an earthquake brought the place down.”

  He grumbled, “Not the most reassuring thing.”

  She laughed but quickly stifled it. “Shhh.”

  A good point. Their hiding place wouldn’t be worth anything if someone heard them and decided to collapse it.

  “Let’s get some sleep so we can start our hunt early in the morning,” he whispered.

  “We?” she scoffed.

  The reminder set his lips. He wasn’t used to be seen as useless. He didn’t feel useless. Losing his sight hadn’t affected his ability to fight. He could still wield his knives with deadly accuracy. He’d spend time tomorrow practicing throwing blind. If he was going to be relying on sound to be his guide, then he’d better hone that skill.

  “You are not hunting soldiers alone,” he stated firmly.

  “Do you really think there are more?” she asked softly.

  “Doubtful.” A lie. With those suits, they would have fared better than he did in that storm.

  But they could do nothing at night, and they needed to rest. He lay on the ground with the bundle of furs under his head.

  He could hear her shifting not far from him.

  “It’s not as comfortable as your bed,” he remarked.

  She didn’t reply.

  Undaunted, he made her an offer. “You can use me as a mattress if you’d like.”

  “The last man I shared my house with assaulted me,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “What? I—” Saying he was sorry seemed trite. But what else could he say? “I am sorry you were hurt. But I assure you not all men are assholes.”

  “I know. The only reason I’m telling you is because I will protect myself if you try and hurt me.”

  “Please do, because I would never do a thing like that.” In his mind, rapists deserved a slow, torturous death.

  “Oddly enough, for all your flirting, I don’t think you would. Braun was aggressive from the moment we met. I should have been firmer with him from the start about his behavior, but I was curious and alone. However, he proved to be quite brutish with no understanding of the word no. He attacked me.”

  “And Kitty killed him.”

  “No, but she did help distract him. When he shot her, I stabbed him.”

  It took him a moment before he could say in a low voice, “You should have poisoned him before that ever happened.”

  She chuckled. “I know that now, but the attack took me by surprise. Naïve, I know. I guess I assumed a soldier would abide by the Enclave laws and have some honor.”

  He uttered a disparaging sound. “That really was naïve. Most of them are power-hungry asses. I swear, something about the suit turns them into brutal thugs. I’m glad you managed to kill him.”

  “At times I can still feel his hot breath and hear the rip of fabric. Hear the report from his gun and the scream Kitty made.” She went silent, and he wondered what she was thinking. Wished he could see her expression.

  “A wise woman once told me that the hardest thing about survival wasn’t the things we must do in order to live but the haunting memories,” he said

  “She was right.”

  He wished he could reach out and…what? Console her? She probably wouldn’t welcome an overture given her experience.

  �
��Given what’s happened before, I can see why you’re leery about men.” He kept talking to her softly, the fact he couldn’t see her adding to the intimacy forming between them. When was the last time he’d talked this openly with anyone? “In Haven, that kind of thing isn’t allowed. Axel, the guy in charge of shit, would string any man up by his balls if he even suggested it. And I’d be right there helping him.”

  “Are there many people in this Haven place?”

  “Too many according to the boss.” How many times had he heard Axel complain? “But annoying and hard as it can be at times, we’re family. We take care of each other.”

  She sighed. “When I lived in the city, all I did was take care of others. The moment I left the Creche at the age of four, they had me apprenticed to a master of apothecary craft. I was one of three apprentices tasked with doing all the work in the shop. Cleaning, errands, crushing of herbs, sorting, and labeling. Then, as I got older, I began working shifts in the shop.”

  “Sounds boring.” His nose wrinkled.

  “Yes and no. I did enjoy the work. I just didn’t like serving the Enclave.”

  “Because they’re entitled assholes who take everything and don’t give shit back.”

  The soft chuckle made him smile. “According to them, they should be accorded every advantage because they protect the citizens.”

  “From what?” he asked. “Seriously, all those rules and what do citizens get? Because it’s not a choice. My understanding is you get told what you will do and how you will do it. If you don’t, punishment.”

  “Your understanding is correct,” she said. “And for a long time, I thought there was no choice.”

  “I’ll be honest, I can’t imagine what it’s like to grow up so restricted. I grew up in the Wastelands where we always made our own decisions. Which isn’t to say it was a better or easier life,” he hastened to add. “My parents were always moving around. Never staying for long anywhere.”

  “Why?”

  “Because of the danger. The lack of food. The patrols that never left us alone.” He went silent as he recalled those times he’d been woken in the middle of the night. Running, always running.

  “You said your parents. You actually knew the people who birthed you?”

  “I called them mom and dad,” he teased. “They had me the old-fashioned way. The way babies used to be made and raised.”

  “It seems so strange to me to think that in ancient times there was no Creche for babies and young ones, no academies for sorting. Or even apprenticeships of the children considered worthy enough.”

  “The Creche and all that hierarchy bullshit is an Enclave creation,” he muttered. “In the Wasteland, we are born from a woman, not a tank, and raised by our family. We choose our path in life.”

  “Is that such a good thing, though? You said it yourself. Your existence as a child was fraught with uncertainty and danger.”

  “I’ll take that any day, given it also means freedom.”

  “Look at what happened to the ancients, though. They had all the freedom in the world, and humanity was almost wiped out.”

  “It wasn’t completely their fault. The meteor fall did most of the damage.”

  “Now who’s making excuses?” She laughed, the low sound pleasing.

  She was pleasing.

  “Just saying that the Enclave curtailing the rights of its citizens isn’t necessarily in the best interest of those citizens.”

  “The Enclave might be corrupt now, but in the early days of rebuilding, their method proved most effective at maintaining and expanding the population.”

  “Wastelanders have been effectively procreating, too, sweetheart. The Enclave has been obsolete for a while now.”

  “Is this your revolution speech?” she mocked. “Trying to convert citizens to your side to overthrow the evil empire?”

  He smiled even if he knew she didn’t see it. “Maybe. Care to join the Deviant side of the battle?”

  “Technically I became a rebel the day they banished me.” She said it almost musingly.

  “Once you have my baby, you’ll be a seasoned criminal.” The words spilled out of him, and he could have choked. Since when had he come around to the idea of spreading his genetics?

  “You sound sure your seed will take root. Do you already have children?” she asked.

  “No. Not yet.” He’d been waiting. He just couldn’t have said for what. The right time? The right woman?

  “Are there many children in Haven?”

  “More than a few. My friend Sally, who already has a daughter, just had another kid. And I hear that two more women are pregnant.”

  “So it’s easy to have a baby?” she asked.

  He debated for a second what to say then stuck to the truth. Both sides of it. “It’s not. It’s hard, and sometimes things go wrong during the pregnancy or birth. Even having a doctor isn’t a surety.”

  “You seem to be implying I shouldn’t have a baby.”

  “No, that’s not what I said. As difficult and fraught with danger as it can be, the birth of a child is miraculous.” And how much greater would it be if that child was actually his? “If you want a kid, then by all means have one, but I would recommend you not have it in isolation. You shouldn’t go through that experience alone.”

  “It’s not as if I have a choice. I told you, there’s no escape.”

  Then he said the most unexpected thing. “Then I guess that means I’ll be around to give you a hand.”

  Seven

  Sofia’s mouth snapped shut. Gunner had implied he might stay. With her. To raise their child.

  A child they’d not yet created, but would.

  The very idea had her heart racing. Especially given he’d offered to impregnate her the ancient way. By touching her and…

  She knew all about sex. She’d provided lubricants that stimulated for Enclave members who didn’t try very hard to hide the fact they indulged. She’d experimented a bit but never understood the allure.

  Braun had tried to give her a violent version of sex. She still remembered the fear of being pinned under him, his breath hot on her face, his hands rough as he tore at her clothes. The scalding spray of his blood when Kitty slammed into him with her claws. When Braun shot Kitty, Sofia recovered her wits enough to deliver the killing blow. He didn’t look so big and scary bleeding out on the floor.

  Yet her experience with Braun hadn’t tainted her. She knew most people weren’t abusive jerks.

  Like Gunner, for example. She’d not known him long, but he showed his character in a few ways. His positive attitude really stuck out for her.

  He’d arrived injured, blind, and lost. How frightening. She knew that first-hand. Yet he took it all in stride, handling his new reality with good humor. Even flirting.

  Holes in the ceiling offered enough starlight that she could see his dark shape on the floor close enough that she could reach out and touch him. She had a feeling he’d let her. But after Braun, she found herself leery of the idea of being close to a man. Getting intimate meant putting trust in someone.

  Could Gunner change her mind about sex? Could it be her lack of interest was because she’d not been with the right person?

  She felt different about Gunner for many reasons. He was at times a strange man who spouted the most interesting statements about the Enclave. He disapproved of them and had valid reasons. He said the things she’d thought but never dared say aloud.

  His sharp mind engaged hers, and she loved it. Loved also checking out his body. His shape pleased, and his face, while battered, possessed good lines.

  But aside from his looks and intellect, the best part of Gunner was he didn’t frighten her. Although he did make her pulse race.

  She hadn’t said anything in reply to his offer to stay and raise their imaginary child, but she heard the scrape as he shifted on the floor. His hands went to his head. She imagined him toying with the bandage over his eyes.

  “Don’t play with that.


  “I’ll play with it if I want to,” he growled.

  “Are your injuries bothering you?” she asked.

  “The orbs are doing a weird stabby thing, and the skin on my face itches something fierce.”

  “That would be the cream at work,” she stated. “And probably a sign you need another layer.” She rummaged in her bag for the fat leaves she’d wrapped around some leftover paste then shuffled to his side. “I’m going to take off your bandage.” She gently tugged it free, but couldn’t see in the gloom if the swelling had gone down or not. “This will be wet.”

  He remained still while she smoothed the mixture over his skin, brushing it lightly over his lids. Then because she’d made it hours ago, she lightly pressed his face, making contact with the cream, and muttered the intent. “Heal.” A spark ignited inside her. Her hands heated, and he gasped. His fingers wrapped around her wrists lightly, but even when she removed her hands from his face, he held on.

  “That feels better. Thank you.” A sincere expression.

  It flustered. She pulled free her wrists. “I should wrap your eyes again.”

  “Let me sit up to help with the task.”

  Because he was taller, she had to kneel and move closer to manipulate the bandage around his head. She became very much aware of how near he was.

  Apparently, he noticed the proximity, too “How is it you smell so good?”

  “I bathe every day using a soap I made.” It had taken her a while to create something pleasant. It made her happier than it should have to hear him compliment it.

  “It’s a good thing I can’t see,” he grumbled.

  “Why?” she asked. Did he know of the scar on her cheek? The mark that took her once pretty features and turned them ugly.

  “Because then I’d be able to actually picture you bathing. Right now, you’re just this sexy and mysterious voice in the dark.”

  The admission should have startled. Yet, for all he might lust, he didn’t touch. Even though she had her breast right in front of his face, close enough that the air crackled between them. He could have touched her, yet he didn’t even try to stroke. His hands remained in his lap.

  Gunner was nothing like Braun. He was like no man she’d ever met.

 

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