Strain

by Amelia C. Gormley

  But if Rhys was his to ruin, Rhys was also his to protect.

  “I’ve got you.” Darius bent down to kiss him. Not with the desperate passion and possessiveness with which their mouths had clashed every other time, but gently, reassuring and seeking reassurance.

  Rhys gave it, embracing Darius with his arms and legs, pressing close to him. His mouth opened to the soft exploration of Darius’s tongue, and he breathed a soft moan as Darius’s cock slipped out of his ass.

  It startled Darius how quickly his dick began to fill and ache again while they lingered in that clinch. Even for a Jug, that seemed excessive. Rhys had to be sore, and yet he kissed Darius as if welcoming him and held him as if he never meant to let go.

  Not even when Darius gripped him under the ass and straightened. He clung to Darius like a limpet, without the slightest hint of mistrust for Darius’s unnatural strength, and let Darius carry him back to the bedroom and do it all again.

  Rhys felt naked without the beard and self-conscious when all the men who had done their duty to help infect him with the Alpha strain looked appalled at the sight of him.

  “They’re afraid they robbed the cradle.” Toby shrugged, easily hefting rucksacks into a pair of inflatable boats. They were equipping the next squadron to go out on patrol. “Can’t say I blame them. The beard added a few years. No one knew it was hiding such a baby face.”

  Rhys groaned as he handed Toby another pack. “I’m nineteen. They can get over it.”

  “Yeah, well, you look a lot younger now. Luckily, I’m perv enough not to mind.”

  “Me, too.” Kaleo came strolling down the sloping bank toward the river. “We still owe Schuyler a show.”

  Before Kaleo could collect, however, Rhys received a reprieve of sorts. Three days later, Xolani pronounced he no longer had to have sex with multiple partners if he chose not to. If he hadn’t been infected by now, after four weeks of daily exposure to strains from multiple sources, it almost certainly wouldn’t make any difference. Now they simply needed to wait for the Alpha strain to manifest.

  The or not, hung in the air, heavy but unspoken.

  She recommended he continue having daily sex with a Jug until infection was confirmed, just in case, a fact for which Rhys was grateful. He wasn’t sure what he’d do once Darius didn’t have to help him. Though to all appearances he was no closer to acquiring the immunity of the Alpha strain, neither did he show any signs of illness from Beta or Gamma. He could be content with that if it put off the day Darius no longer had to be with him.

  Jacob was keeping his distance from Rhys since that day Titus had intervened. It helped that Rhys was rarely alone, and there were too many witnesses for Jacob to continue his covert harassment. But there were grumbles from the barracks, carried back to Darius and Xolani by Titus.

  “Houtman’s keeping his nose clean enough to not give us an excuse to take action, but pretty much everyone is sick of his shit,” Titus reported when he and Xolani had Rhys and Darius over to plan their squadron’s next patrol. “He’s proselytizing. Talking about how God gave us the gift of the Alpha strain so we could redeem humanity. Fucker thinks he’s Christ or something.”

  “His dad was insane,” Rhys said grimly.

  Xolani frowned. “You think he’s absorbed his father’s crazy?”

  Rhys bit his lip and shook his head. “I don’t think Jacob’s crazy; I think he’s just an egotistical dick. He liked being in charge at the monastery. He liked people being scared of him and his dad. He liked making people obey. If he believed all his talk about religion, he’d never have become a Jug. And he’s talked about turning the Jugs into an army for God.”

  They all went still.

  “He said that?” Xolani asked, looking grave. “He actually said that?”

  Rhys nodded. “But Jacob’s always talked big, you know. He’s always been full of himself. He referred to his dad as our God-appointed leader at the monastery, stuff like that.”

  Darius leaned forward in his chair, his expression intent. “You know him best, boy. Could it be more than just talk?”

  Rhys nearly replied with an automatic and emphatic affirmative, but the looks on their faces stopped him, and he remembered Titus mentioning that they’d kill Jacob if he got too far out of line. The fact that someone’s death—even Jacob’s, God help him—might result from his answer made Rhys swallow his reflexive yes and think about it.

  Would Jacob take action? Rhys saw the look in Jacob’s eyes that day in Salem when he’d “accidentally” pointed his gun at Rhys. But he hadn’t shot. He could have, but he didn’t. He was just threatening, and Rhys was used to that. Jacob had been making threats against Rhys’s life since Rhys was twelve.

  “I don’t—” It went against the grain to say anything charitable about Jacob. “I don’t think so. I mean, he’s said a lot of stuff over the years and never really carried through on any of it. I mean, he hardly ever even touched me when we were at the monastery. He just tattled to his dad and had his dad do it.”

  Xolani’s posture eased. “So you think he’s just self-aggrandizing.”

  Rhys lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “Probably.”

  Darius drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Titus, get with a few of the most trusted people in the barracks and see if they’ll monitor things for us and report back. If Houtman tries to actually recruit or make a real plan of action, the sooner we know, the faster we can take him down. I’ll talk to Luis tomorrow, but I’m pretty sure he’s not going to sign off on eliminating a guy we just recruited for showing off. Not without something more solid.”

  Titus snorted. “Let him try to recruit. He won’t get far with that in Delta Company, that’s for damn sure.”

  “Don’t be so certain.” Darius gave them both a long look. “Most of our people aren’t listening because we took care of the ones who thought to set themselves up as dictators years ago, but there might be a few who’ve changed their minds since then. Could be they’re tired of exile, thinking it’s time to get their due.”

  “That sounds an awful lot like insubordination to me.” Xolani fingered one of her knives. “Or the next thing to it.”

  “And if we were still actually in the Army, that’d be a problem we could do something about.” Darius stretched his legs out in front of him, taking a sip of the liquor Titus had poured for them all. “It was different when we purged the ranks early on. We’d been serving with those people for years. We knew them, knew what they were capable of, knew which ones were seriously thinking about how they could use being Jugs in all the wrong ways versus the ones who were just bellyachin’ about the situation. We take action against Houtman this soon, it’s gonna raise a lot of questions about any recruitment policy we put in place, and even our judgment and fitness to command. If we do have people who are moving in the direction of being disaffected, it could give them grounds to challenge us. I’ll answer to that if we have something real to go on, but we need to be sure.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on him.” Titus draped an arm across the back of Xolani’s chair. “That’s about all we can do right now.”

  Rhys bowed his head, an inarticulate dread scratching at the back of his mind.

  His fears were pushed aside, however, when they left Titus and Xolani’s, and Darius got him alone. The next morning, on Darius’s command, he resumed wearing the plug throughout the day, even though no one else would be attempting to infect him now. His wearing it wasn’t functional, and they both knew it.

  He wore it because Darius wanted him to wear it. It pleased Darius to have Rhys walk around all day filled with Darius’s semen. And it pleased Rhys for Darius to flex that sort of control. He spent the morning in the warehouse, helping inventory supplies for the winter at Fort Vancouver and cataloging provisions needed by the detachment escorting the civilians back to Colorado Springs. He worked cheerfully, with the omnipresent buzz of low-grade arousal singing along his nerves each time a movement reminded him of the
plug’s presence. He even went back to Darius’s apartment at lunch hoping to find Darius there and in an indulgent mood, but in that he was disappointed. After a few bites of leftover smoked venison and scavenged fruit, he returned to the warehouse well before anyone else, hoping to make an impression on Delta Company as a whole by being useful and pulling his weight.

  It was immediately apparent that someone had been in the warehouse. Several rucksacks full of supplies now sat by the door, ready to go. This wasn’t unusual, since patrols were arriving and departing all the time. Rhys spared a moment to hope that whatever had been packed wouldn’t mess too badly with the inventory counts he’d already completed.

  “Still not dead, cocksucker?” Rhys whipped around from counting crates of medical supplies, panic lancing through him at the sound of the familiar sneer. He was completely alone here with Jacob. “It’s been, what, four weeks now? Hear you’re not a Jug yet, even though you’re still bending over for the whole company. Guess it’s just a matter of time until you die, huh?”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Rhys made himself meet Jacob’s glare without flinching. If Jacob decided to attack him, he’d be dead before anyone could reach him, but he’d be damned if he’d let Jacob see him afraid. Despite what he’d told Darius and the others, now that he was looking in Jacob’s eyes, it seemed like maybe he was capable of anything. There was something off about Jacob today. His diction wasn’t as crisp as it usually was, his words slightly less pompous than the arrogant speeches he usually made. “But seeing how you’re a Jug now, it might be a good time to remind you that members of Delta Company aren’t allowed to abuse recruits.”

  “I know the rules.” Jacob loomed over him. “Not that you’re much of a recruit. More like useless worm bait. But the company’s enjoying having its own whore. I’m just here to put you to work. You’re going to help me haul some packs. Let’s go.”

  Unable to think of a reason not to help Jacob other than his fear and dislike of the prick, Rhys shouldered one of the rucksacks and accompanied Jacob from the warehouse, his mouth pressed into a tense line.

  “Where are we taking them?” Rhys’s shoulders began to ache from the weight of the pack as he tried to keep pace with Jacob’s effortless stride. They passed out of the West Barracks area and began skirting the East Barracks, which was not the usual route either to the docks for the patrols that would leave by boat or to the gates for the ones leaving on foot.

  “Officer’s Row. The quarantine zone. We’re outfitting the civilians for the journey back to Colorado Springs in a few weeks.”

  Rhys stopped in his tracks, setting down his burden with a vehement shake of his head. “No, I can’t. I can’t go near the survivors.”

  “I’m trying to help you, freak.” Jacob gave him a taunting look. “Or don’t you want to go see your boyfriend?”

  “You don’t help anyone.” Rhys began to shake with adrenaline, standing near the old war memorial as Jacob set down his own rucksack and advanced toward him. Rhys had become so content with his situation, he almost hadn’t thought of Gabe since the morning Darius had shaved him, but now another wave of panic surged. Whatever Jacob had planned involving Rhys and Gabe, it couldn’t be good. “And you especially don’t help me. Leave Gabe alone. That’s over. He’s got nothing to do with anything anymore.”

  Jacob’s face twisted into an ugly scowl. “You pick up that fucking bag and follow me, or we’ll see just how little your boyfriend has to do with anything when I throw my blood on him.”

  It was almost eerie, the calm that came over Rhys, a stillness that seemed to let him feel the contraction of each muscle in his arm as he clenched his fist at his side. He would die in the next moment. He knew that before he moved. Titus had been wrong. There was nothing strategic or thought-out in the instant when Rhys finally attacked Jacob. His only objective was to stop Jacob, or slow him down, even if it meant his own death.

  And his only advantage was surprise.

  He swung like Titus had taught him, trying to drive his fist through Jacob’s face rather than landing the punch on it. His shout was as much an attempt to call out for help as a grunt of effort and pain as he threw every feeble bit of strength he had, from his feet upward, into the blow. Caught unprepared, Jacob rocked back, and Rhys pressed his advantage, turning his momentum into an immediate follow-up, fast and hard, and then another. Blood blossomed from Jacob’s nose on the third blow. Rhys was dimly aware that his hand was a mass of agony, but he wouldn’t let himself stop.

  Then Jacob caught him by the throat, and it was over. He lifted Rhys off the ground before Rhys could land the fourth punch. It took only seconds for black spots to begin to dance in front of his eyes as the grip cut off his air and endangered the blood flow to his brain. In another instant, Jacob would crush his windpipe, and it would be finished.

  He had a split second to regret that it wouldn’t be Darius who killed him when the time came, and then he was on the ground, trying futilely to suck in desperate breaths through a useless throat. There were hands on him and commotion around him.

  “That little bastard tried to kill me!” he heard Jacob yell. “I tried to stop him when I found out he was heading for the quarantine zone. He thinks he can infect his friend with the Alpha strain!”

  He couldn’t speak, could barely see, but Rhys shook his head in wild denial, sobbing for air. He could feel the suspicious looks he knew the Jugs must have been turning toward him. No one had ever believed him over Jacob’s lies, and anyone in Darius’s squad who saw his reaction to discovering Gabe down in Salem would be all too willing to accept Jacob’s version.

  “I didn’t!” Rhys’s voice was a barely audible gasp. He searched desperately for a supportive face. Most of the Jugs weren’t the ones he’d come to know out in the field with Darius’s squad. He knew they had no particular fondness for Jacob, but Rhys was an unknown. They regarded him uncertainly. A massive form resolved itself into Joe, and he stared down at Rhys with a grave expression. Rhys could hear other voices approaching and knew Darius and Xolani were on their way.

  “I wouldn’t,” Rhys pleaded in a cracking whisper. After what Darius had told him about Joe, even more than Darius or Titus or Xolani, it seemed critical that he make Joe understand. “Joe, I wouldn’t. I swear it.”

  His voice broke too badly for further speech, and so Rhys was left to listen in silence when Darius demanded a recounting and Joe overrode Jacob’s blustering to explain what he’d found. Rhys wished he understood the sober, impassive look Darius turned on him when Joe shared Jacob’s accusations. Rhys shook his head again in desperate denial, rubbing his throat and begging with his eyes.

  But Darius was one of their leaders, of course. He couldn’t afford to be partial. His mouth tightened as he looked back and forth between Jacob and Rhys.

  “Xolani, stop Houtman’s nosebleed and escort him to the barracks, then get Titus and meet me in Luis’s office. Joe, take Rhys home, make sure he’s all right. They’re both confined to quarters for the time being. I’ll be there to question both of them after I talk to the people who saw it.”

  Rhys accepted Joe’s help up and followed him miserably back to Darius’s quarters.

  “I wouldn’t, Joe.” His voice cracked painfully as he stood at the threshold, making further explanation impossible.

  Joe gave him a searching look, hesitating in the doorway. “I believe you,” he murmured at last, ducking his head, and left.

  “So who’s telling the truth?” Luis folded his hands across his stomach as he leaned back in his office chair, after they’d spoken to all the witnesses and questioned both Houtman and Rhys. The questioning hadn’t proven terribly enlightening. Houtman had been full of indignant bluster, and Rhys had barely been able to rasp out full sentences until Xolani had declared they could finish questioning him later. The boy’s eyes had been huge with fear, and Darius couldn’t quite manage to believe it was because he was afraid of being caught out at something. “Houtman says Cooper was headi
ng for the quarantine; Cooper swears he wasn’t. Who do we believe?”

  Xolani scoffed. “Is this even a subject for debate?”

  “I think after the obvious and blatant preferential treatment one of the recruits received from your entire squadron, we need to tread carefully.” Luis flicked a glance toward Darius, whose jaw flexed as Xolani shot back a protest.

  “If Rhys was treated better by all of us, it’s because he acted better,” she said bluntly. “Houtman has only himself to blame if he was marginalized. He’s self-important, self-aggrandizing, and narcissistic. He’s a coward and a bully. He thought he was big shit back at the monastery, and he thought he could become big shit here. Now that he hasn’t, he wants to salt the earth instead. I should have found a reason to slit his throat two weeks ago.”

  “That’s one way of looking at it,” Luis temporized. Darius suppressed a growl and forced himself to listen fairly. “The other way of looking at it is that on the surface, Cooper is cute, sweet, and small. He seems harmless, which makes it much easier for him to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes. Word is this isn’t the first time he’s attacked Houtman without provocation. And who is this civilian he was supposedly going after?”

  “Xolani and I both witnessed that first ‘attack,’” Titus grumbled. “Kid had plenty of provocation. Houtman’s so sleazy he leaves a trail of slime everywhere he drags his sorry ass. You go ahead and call it preferential treatment if you want, but fuck yeah, I’ll believe Cooper over that guy any day.”

  “What about this civilian?” Luis gave Darius a level look, and Darius rubbed his forehead.

  “Anyone on my squad can tell you Rhys was upset, finding someone important from his past and not being able to go near him. I was gonna try to find a way for them to talk, or write each other or some damn thing, if we didn’t get confirmation that Rhys was infected with Alpha strain soon.”