Darker Shade of Pale - HER FREEDOM

by Serra, Mandi Rei

  "I could relocate anywhere, couldn't I?"

  "You'll need some serious cash… but I can help you out with that. Adventure tomorrow."

  "What kind of adventure?"

  "The kind I don't tell people."

  "That sounds ominous."

  Tyb leaned back in his chair. "In a very good way, Izzy. Ever been gold panning before?"

  I shook my head in the negative. "Never." People still go prospecting?

  "I happen to know a very nice spot, not too far. The nuggets I've pulled from there have funded my life quite nicely. You've built up some muscle… so whatever you can carry back home from the gold mine is yours to keep. There's a fellow in Covelo that buys gold. At almost two grand an ounce, it's a good way to make some cash." Tyb cracked a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Whatever may come, I want you prepared and taken care of. If I die, you can stay here. I emailed my dad and let him know. He can show you the way down the mountain."

  "Why do you keep thinking you're going to die?" His fixation on the subject bothered me. "I don't know if I could stay up here without you."

  "You know the basics of survival up here. You'd do well. You'd be safe." Tyb's voice was assured, calming, and to me, seemed to hold a touch of longing.

  I'd be intensely lonely up here, without him. "And you think zompires are going to get us all?" Why else would I need to be protected in a world where Christos Haytham no longer existed? "Besides, would I really be safe up here if your sister—my husband's mistress—found out I was living in her brother's home? No matter how long I'd live here, it'd always be your house."

  He wasn't willing to discuss. "Well, good thing we'll make you fiscally solvent tomorrow so you can move back to civilization and mingle with normal people."

  "You, my dear Tyb, are remarkably normal in extraordinary circumstances."

  "You're too generous."

  "No I'm not. I'm selfish. I can admit it."

  "Not as selfish as me, I'm sure of that."

  "You don't have a selfish bone in your body, Tyb."

  He tilted his head back and laughed. "Oh, I do too. And right now it's hard as a rock for you."

  Chapter Sixteen

  I will say that making internet porn is interesting.

  Mara sent Tyb a selection of high-definition video cameras, tripods, lights and reflectors, and software for the computer. Another package contained thumb drives and a handful of paper, all detailing IPs, Proxy information, Passwords, details for connecting to a secure Navy satellite for a new internet connection and contact email addresses for not just FBI and CIA, but the Department of Homeland Defense and the Pentagon as well.

  Tyb installed the software to secure the connection while I unpacked the small cameras and slim tripods. Three cameras, total. One completely secure connection later, and we were in business.

  The porn biz, that is. Oh, my parents would be proud, I'm sure.

  We didn't use a script. I laid out my gimmick, a frustrated housewife who would 'film' her indiscretions as a fuck you to her workaholic husband. Sometimes the truth can be a caricature, much like my marriage. We filmed in Tyb's room since it was larger and had the computer. Also included in the box were a set of white sheets, with a note written in Sharpie on the outside, reading 'Put this on your fuck zones. For software, you'll see.'

  Our first attempt was an adventure. We turned the cameras on and took our positions. I lay atop the snowy white flannel on the bed while Tyb waited in the living room.

  Tyb came busting in his door, wearing camouflage pants and boots. Shirtless, his torso muscles rippled underneath the strategically placed compact flood lights. His face smudged with green, brown, and black, seemed to make his eyes glitter with a dangerous gleam.

  I wore a white cotton camisole that reached the tops of my thighs, and nothing else. Sat up and faked surprise. "You came! I don't know when my husband will be back, but oh! Fuck me, Philippe! I want that horse cock I know you have hiding for me." Every time Tyb and I make one of these Fuck You messages, I was going to call him by another name.

  Tyb lost his composure for a moment after I said horse cock. His teeth, startling white against his face paint, showed his amusement when he smiled. "I'm AWOL right now. I knew you'd be wet, waiting for me." He started unbuttoning his pants to reveal a trail of hair leading south. "Want to know what I've been thinking of every night?"

  I arose from the bed and sauntered his way, only to wrap my arms around his neck and nibble on his chin. "Tell me you've been thinking about me sucking your cock, because that's constantly on my mind." True, too.

  He rewarded me with another smile and lifted me up as he walked to the bed. He set me down in front of a camera at the bed's foot, and Tyb stepped away. I loved the view. His cock was hard and peeping up from the waistband of his fatigues. I'm just saying, I probably should have practiced unzipping his pants with my teeth. Oh well, edit that out later. I went to town licking his shaft that I didn't notice for a couple minutes that he was holding a camcorder for a POV shot of me giving him head. I tried giving him my best sloe-eyed look as I licked the bottom of his cock, from balls to tip. Tyb spoke, his voice as rich with lust. "Tell me what you want, Selesta."

  I'm sure for a moment I looked dumbfounded. Never before has he addressed me by my real name and it felt weird and a bit forced on his part. But once I got my equilibrium again, the most wickedest idea came to me. With one hand, I worked Tyb's shaft, and the other meandered south to tease my clit. "Mmmm, all I want from you Philippe, is some jewelry."

  Tyb quirked his eyebrow and echoed, "Jewelry? What kind of bling does my naughty housewife want? I'm only on a soldier's salary, so if you want diamonds, better ask your husband."

  I rubbed the tip of Tyb's cock around on my lips, enjoying the throbbing shaft in my hand. "I don't want diamonds." Lick. "Besides, my husband won't ever give me what I want… I want pearls. A pearl necklace." With that, I began sucking and licking Tyb, while working him with my hand. He tilted his head back and moaned low, in such a way that sent tiny, snowboarding snowmen down my spine in delight. "You can afford a pearl necklace, right?"

  "I'd give you a pearl necklace any time you ask."

  I let go of Tyb's joystick and whipped my camisole over my head. "I'm asking for one now. Before my husband comes back." I licked my lips.

  Tyb, ever the sex-magician, gave me what I asked for. Hot spurts covered my neck and breasts. "You're a bad girl, Mrs. Haytham. Will you show your new pearls to your husband?"

  "No, he wouldn't appreciate them."

  Tyb smacked my ass. "He doesn't know what he's missing."

  After that, we turned off the flood lights and went to the computer to survey our first attempt at making porn for Christos's eyes. By the miracle of software, using one still camera and the POV shot, and Mara's photos of what once was my home which Christos, oh, it looked like I was sucking Tyb off at the foot of my marital bed in my gilded cage. That would piss my dear, delusional ex off, hopefully incite him to recklessness and lower his guard, the thought of me fooling around with various men in our home while he was away at work.

  Hell hath no fury like a wife abused and resenting it…

  The first porn site we choose had over ten million members—paying members. Webcam shots of my fake ID verified I was over the age of 18 to the satisfaction of the porn site admin. After having my membership approved, the vid got uploaded. Every megabyte transferred through the proxy servers made my heart beat a bit faster than before. Then it was done. I looked to Tyb when he clicked on the vid to fetch the URL. I had my cell in hand, typing in the web address to text. I wrote, You need to see what Selesta did.

  Pushed send, and away it went via satellite connection.

  Tyb went to the bathroom to clean up and I sat with the cellphone Zamara gave me, resting on my bare knee. Christos fulfilled my expectation with a quick and indignant reply.

  Who are you and how did you get this number?

  I smirked as I wrote, Someone who
knows Selesta and her secrets.

  HOW DID YOU GET THIS NUMBER?

  Tyb walked in on my chortling like a teenager while typing my response. Ana told me. Watch the vid at link I sent you. Ana says you'll like it.

  My wife is dead.

  When I read that, I laughed. "Oh am I? Think again, asshole."

  You sure about that? I have it on good authority she's quite happy being away from you. How's the Siberian Sea, by the way? Can't be as nice as Northern California. Ana would tell you to kiss her ass, but she doesn't speak crazy person.

  Whoever this is, I will kill you after I kill my wife again, if she were alive.

  I thought, HA! Not if I get you first. Come on, Haytham. Where's your sense of wonder at seeing the woman you married getting off with a gigantic cock? Besides, do you really want to document your intention to commit a felony? Don't you know you're always being watched?

  Chapter Seventeen

  I WILL GIVE YOU ONE CHANCE TO TELL ME WHO YOU ARE BEFORE I FIND OUT MYSELF AND RIP YOUR SPINE OUT YOUR ASS WHEN I TRACK YOU DOWN.

  I was rather enjoying my game of Fuck You Text Messages. Being away from him and his physical presence gave me an audacity I never felt before. You couldn't keep tabs on Selesta, what makes you think you can find me? You won't be able to get a lock on my position via GPS coordinates. Face it, buckaroo, without your crack IT team, you're nothing but a rich jizz stain on society.

  ARE YOU THE MAN IN THAT VIDEO WITH MY WIFE? I WILL FUCKING GUT YOU.

  No. I'm not a tauntaun and you are no Han Solo. Maybe Hand Solo, at best. I'm the female Ana likes to sleep with at night. I keep her snuggly and safe.

  LIAR.

  You'd know all about liars, wouldn't you, Christos? Still have your testicles, or has the Siberian cold neutered you?

  Tyb read over my shoulder and whistled low. "Jesus, Izzy. Going for the nuts? Low blow."

  "Having his masculinity questioned always angered him. When I suggested I had better reading comprehension than he, because you know, I worked in publishing and it was kinda my job to understand that which I am reading, Christos backhanded me. Then… it was a night I wish I could forget, Tyb. The first of many nights I wish I could forget, or at least pretend didn't happen. I will talk mad shit to Christos now that he can't hurt me tonight, and I'll say all the shit I've kept bottled up. He's earned an earful, would be a shame to keep him from knowing not all are in awe of his wealth or intellect." Vir caput est mulieris. I hate that phrase. Latin for 'Man is head of the woman." The phrase Christos would utter every time he punished me. The phase I needed to use as a mantra during punishment to appease the madman I married. Vir caput est mulieris, the song of my anguish and dehumanization.

  "Has he replied yet?"

  "No. He's angry now. He's brainstorming retribution, I bet." Stewing and mulling and boiling in anger. In hindsight, I hoped Christos didn't take his anger out on Aisha, but instead directed it toward finding the one mocking him.

  "Well, tomorrow is another day. It's late and I'm tired. Sorry to put off gold panning to accomplish this," Tyb swept his arm around in a grand gesture towards cameras and lights on tripods. "Did you still want to go?"

  "Yeah, I'm interested in playing a '49er." I started putting the photo gear away. Tyb stored the boxes under his bed. When that was done, I meandered to my room, white cotton chemise in hand, and slipped into bed.

  Damn dreams.

  Rough hands grabbed me by the hair, did things… Stop! No! That voice, no…Say it!… Vir caput est mulieris! Vir caput est mulieris! Please! Stop now! Please! You are the master, you are my master, without you I am nothing… No, not the paddle! I said the words…No, I will never leave you…I hate you… please stop! Please! No, don't put the plastic bag over my head again, I'll be good! I promise! I love you! Why are you doing this to me? Please! You said you loved me! Why….. Vir caput est mulieris!

  Tyb's voice woke me. "Izzy, you okay?" He stood in the doorway to my room, hands braced against the doorjamb.

  Groggy and tired, I replied, "Don't know." I felt like crying. The first time he hit me was three weeks after the wedding. I was secure in the thought that, yay married life! Was just as cool as the honeymoon period. It wasn't. My honeymoon was a mask Christos wore. The real Christos came out overtime. First, slowly. But then it was like a toilet paper roll; the further along we got, the faster it seemed Christos seemed to cycle between his moods of kindness and generosity to vicious and evil.

  Me tormenting Christos has a side effect of tormenting myself as well. "Christos will kill me first chance he gets. I guaranteed that tonight when I sent him the text messages." I tried suppressing a shudder.

  "He won't kill you." Tyb meandered from the door to my bed. He sat down on the side. "Were you dreaming of him?"

  "Yes. I was dreaming of him and his many shades of being fucked up in the head." And wishing it was all a dream and not based whatsoever in reality.

  "Can I get you anything? Water?"

  "No, I'm fine. Well, I'm not… but I think once this is over and I know he's no longer a threat to me, I'll be very fine indeed." Or dead, and I wouldn't care.

  "How about a hug?"

  The man sitting on my bed is pure Kryptonite. "A hug sounds good."

  I sat up more while Tyb leaned over to engulf me in a gentle bear hug. I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed. Hugs are awesomely healing.

  Tyb's phone rang, splitting us apart. "It's two in the morning. Whoever is calling, is calling for a good reason." He left my room to fetch his cell. He was speaking on nit when he came back into my room. "Okay Mara, I'm going to put you on speakerphone. You tell us both what's going on." He pressed a button and set the phone face down on my bed.

  Zamara's voice echoed in the room. "Whatever you guys did, it worked. He and Aisha have left the Isle of Twilight earlier today. In fact, they are off the coast in Noyo harbor, using really bad fake IDs as a mister and missus Valtoris, renting a houseboat. However, with a face as recognizable as Haytham's, especially with his mug blasted on every television for a couple months, it didn't work. He was detained by the sheriff."

  "It's over?" The words were out of my mouth before I realized it.

  Zamara laughed. "I wish. Was able to convince local law enforcement that he is, indeed, Claud Valtoris. So he's on the loose. Aisha, she's still in jail, but at least she's safe there."

  "Why didn't she get bailed out?" Tyb asked, his voice dark with building anger.

  "She tried cutting Haytham's throat. Her first generation implant is failing and she's getting hungry."

  "So that's the news?" I asked.

  "No. The news is that Aisha bit Haytham. So he's in a hurry to find you. He doesn't have his full lab anymore. Everything got taken for evidence at the Washington state lab. He doesn't have an implant to slow down the Virteria Serum. So there's a live bomb on its way to find you guys."

  Tyb spoke again, his tone calmer. "So, it's on like Donkey Kong?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "What are you doing?"

  "I'm on my way to Aisha. Need to ask her something. You guys, go make friends with the tree house—or at least start moving your root cellar in there. No telling how long you'll be on lockdown. There's a taskforce assigned to take Haytham down, alive, if possible. Don't put yourselves in harm's way. Stay low and keep an ear to the ground. I'll talk to you again when I have more information." She hung up.

  It was there, in the silence which lingered, when I realized my nightmare had only just begun this night.

  Chapter Eighteen

  By moonlight and lantern, Tyb and I filled the back of the Mule with boxes of his canned goods. "I'll be gone in the morning. Going to take my critters down the mountain to Bucky's." Bucky is the pig-farming, rabbit-fur trading neighbor. "Shouldn't be gone long, just a couple hours."

  I didn't like the thought of being up here alone with Christos running lose. In fact, that was deeply unsettling. The look on my face must have been epic for Tyb to tack on, "You'll
have the dogs with you too, Izzy. You'll be fine." He then offered me a smile.

  "What should I do while you're gone?"

  "I'll show you. Come on." We walked back to the house and went into his bedroom. He opened the secret door to the panic room and told me to follow. Anxiety heightened my awareness, that maybe in a few hours I'd be scurrying down this corridor and hiding in fear of the man who has haunted my world far too long. How stupid and naive was I when I got involved with him? Damn hindsight.

  When we reached the panic room we went through the door leading to the treehouse. It was a long walk in darkness until we reached the safety of the mini castle. We walked past the room where Tyb removed my implant to the next door.

  "This is what you can do." Tyb opened the door and revealed several closed circuit camera monitors, all focused on the outdoors. There was no feed from the house or panic room. "Keep an eye out. Anyone you don't recognize is probably going to be on the taskforce."

  "And if I see Christos…?" Sit here and hide? Do nothing and wait for the cowboys to save me? I didn't like the thought of sitting around and doing jack shit but get my anxiety going.

  Tyb looked at me in a manner I never noticed before. "What do you want to do?"

  "Not freak out."

  He cracked a smile. "That's a good start. You got a couple options. Sit tight and let the task force handle him or defend yourself if he's that close to you."

  Could I shoot Christos? Putting a bullet through a can is a lot different than putting one through flesh. I suppose I could imagine his torso as can of Dr. Pepper and let loose…

  "Guns are in the house. Should we go back and get them?" I asked, half-wondering if my revolver would do the job.

  "Oh, Izzy. I'm prepared." He turned around and shut the door to the monitor room. Behind the door, a large metal locker set into the wall. He opened the locker and revealed an arsenal that couldn't possibly be legal.

  At least a dozen long guns, half of which looked like assault guns with banana clips. Tyb reached in and pulled two out, one much larger than the other. "This is your gun. Make friends and follow me." He held out the smaller of the two to me. I expected it to weigh a lot more than it did when I took it from his hands.