Trake slowed to a stop and signaled to Deja with a sweeping motion of his arm. Deja nodded and pulled an electronic tablet from her backpack before ducking into the woods. Trake’s eyes fell on Faith, and she met them, not sure what she would find.
He looked worried and tired, but gave her a warm smile. “Deja will check the area and set up an electronic net around our perimeter to warn us if anyone approaches.”
Faith shouldered off her backpack and set it on the ground at her feet. Her pack was less than half of the weight of what Trake and Deja carried, but it was nearly killing her. “You said all that by just waving your arm?”
Trake laughed. “Standard military training. I suspect the Resistance will be glad to have two more trained soldiers.” He glanced sharply at her as if he realized she might take his comment as a slight, since she wasn’t a trained soldier.
Faith shrugged in answer to his unspoken query. Then she considered her situation. She wasn’t in the strongest position. What if Trake realized Faith was dead weight and had nothing to offer? They were about to join an army, and she didn’t know how to fight. Perhaps he was already coming to his senses and wondering how to get rid of her.
“What about food?” Faith asked, changing the subject, but immediately, she was sorry she asked because she sounded like she was complaining.
Trake paused from unpacking his backpack, giving her an apologetic look. “I’m afraid it will be MREs tonight. Too risky to throw a heat signature trying to warm something up. That’s why Deja got the special thermal camouflage sleeping bags.” The tone of his voice conveyed more concern for her than his actual words.
Faith admonished herself for thinking he’d want to get rid of her. It was obvious he cared for her as strongly as she cared for him. “Oh, that’s okay. No problem.” Faith sent him a reassuring smile, while she wondered what an MRE was, but she didn’t want to ask. She would wait to find out when they ate.
Deja returned, holding a much lighter backpack, absorbed in the readouts from her tablet. “Fifty meters, level five, nothing bigger than a reptile. It’s on channel twenty-four code niner, niner alpha,” she reported to Trake.
Trake pulled out his tablet and entered the codes. “Okay. Rise at dawn. We should arrive by noon.”
Faith looked up from the sleeping bag she’d pulled out of her backpack. She hadn’t considered asking if they knew exactly where they were going. She figured they would simply head for the hills and ask around. How naive she’d been. “You know precisely where the Resistance is?”
Trake exchanged a look with Deja. “It’s not the best kept secret. The military knows where the Resistance has its camps, but no one will think to search for us there. If I were looking for us, I would guess we planned to join up with one of the mercenary outfits based around the Harvard military academy up north.”
“Why doesn’t the military just attack the Resistance and wipe them out?” Faith asked.
Trake and Deja exchanged another look, and Trake shrugged.
Deja squatted and pulled out her sleeping bag from her backpack. “Because then the military wouldn’t know where the enemy was once they scattered.” She glanced up, and Faith detected longing for her as their eyes met.
“You can’t completely wipe out a rebellion force. You can only contain it,” Deja continued.
Trake unrolled his thermal sleeping bag. “And it seems this rebellion force has been pretty well contained. They have not had a major offensive in years. I’m not sure what we will find.” He watched Faith as she unrolled her bag. “Here, give me that.” He reached out to help.
I can unroll a damn sleeping bag! Faith bit back the comment, tired of feeling so inadequate around these two well-trained soldiers. She was glad she’d kept her mouth shut because after she handed over the bag, Trake zipped hers with his, forming a single large sleeping bag. Her pussy tingled in anticipation of being wrapped in his arms all night.
Deja briefly regarded the dual sleeping bag before turning away. “What do you want for your MRE, A, B or C?” she asked over her shoulder.
“I’ll take a C,” Trake said as he laid out the doubled bag.
“What’s an MRE?” Faith finally asked.
Trake and Deja shared a laugh, breaking the tension that had settled over them, though it didn’t necessarily help Faith feel any more competent around them.
Smiling, Deja expertly tossed Faith a wrapped package about the size of a deck of playing cards. “It’s dinner.”
Chapter Eight
In the sleeping bag that night, Faith couldn’t keep the grin off her face as Trake’s heavily muscled arms wrapped around her. He hardened against her thigh, and wet heat gathered between her legs, as her body prepared to satisfy him, however he desired. He was hers. She would make him happy for as long as they managed to stay alive. Life could no longer be taken for granted; every moment was a gift.
He shifted against her as he made room for his erection. Faith’s thoughts briefly went to Deja. How was she handling this? If Faith were in the other woman’s position, she’d feel awful as the third wheel.
Even though Deja was a first-class warrior who could more than take care of herself, Faith felt responsible for her. They had developed a bond—a bond of the heart. Deja wouldn’t have come with them if that bond hadn’t existed. Faith determined she’d do everything she could to make sure Deja found happiness.
However, right now Faith needed to attend to her man. Trake had risked his life multiple times for others; he deserved to be taken care of for a change. She wanted a long slow night of lovemaking, so she could enjoy his wonderfully hard body taking her for as long as possible, but that would have to wait for another time, another place.
“Trake?” she whispered into his ear.
“Yeah?” he replied in an equally low voice.
“I want you to know I belong to you.”
He pulled back to look at her in the glow from the stars above their heads.
Smiling at him, she touched the tips of her fingers to his lips. “I love you so much. You’re a good man.”
His face changed as if he were overcome with emotion. “Faith…”
She pressed her lips to his in a passionate kiss.
“God, I love you so much,” he managed to say between her kisses.
Faith was on fire as she rolled on top of him. She had planned to have him take her hard, but she wanted him, needed him inside her right now. She placed her opening at the tip of his cock and slid down on him, impaling herself. She was wet, very wet, but he was also very large. A stab of pain stopped her momentarily, but it felt so good. She welcomed the pain, a small sacrifice for the incredible pleasure.
She squeezed her internal muscles as she ground herself on him. She was already at the edge of her orgasm, but what she wanted most was for him to flood her with his seed, to orgasm inside her, to validate their love.
Faith shuddered on top of him as she hit her peak. Pumping up and down fast and fierce, she rode it out and built to another.
“Ride me, Trake. Ride me hard!” she gasped in his ear, hoping her words would cause him to lose control.
Trake grabbed her, pressing her body to his as he rolled them over so he was on top. Faith sighed with pleasure and let her hands fall above her head as she surrendered herself to his assault. Trake didn’t disappoint. He grunted as he rapidly pistoned into her.
She wanted it to last, but she couldn’t resist telling him what was truly in her heart. “Take me any way you want!”
As she expected, he immediately came in her, violently. Faith wrapped her arms around him, tightly pulling him to her. They were both breathing fast. Trake’s orgasm had been strong and complete, and Faith couldn’t be happier.
A little while later, Faith lay quietly in Trake’s arms, wearing her smock as sleepwear. She could smell their sex on her skin, as she listened to him softly snoring. She glanced in the direction of Deja’s sleeping bag. What must she be thinking?
For now, Trake a
nd Deja were Faith’s little army, and she needed to take care of them both.
As Faith slipped out of their bag, Trake awakened. She put her finger to her lips then gave him a quick peck on the cheek. She scooted over to Deja’s sleeping bag as Trake’s gaze followed her.
Faith crouched next to Deja. Her eyes were closed, but Faith wasn’t fooled. There was no way Deja could have slept through the sounds of Faith and Trake making love.
Faith reached out to touch Deja, but stopped herself. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to touch a trained killer in her sleep. However, Deja wasn’t asleep; she was just acting as if she was. Besides, Deja wouldn’t hurt Faith, not anymore.
Faith touched Deja’s chin and gently turned her head. Deja’s eyes met hers, swimming with emotion. Faith stroked Deja’s hair and softly kissed her. Deja’s hot breath thrilled Faith. She belonged to Trake, but she enjoyed the touch of both of her Aristos.
Faith raised her head to end the kiss, but Deja leaned up to prolong their connection. They maintained contact, neither one apparently wanting to be the first to break away.
Faith eventually raised her head again. Deja sighed and lay back, closing her eyes. Faith got to her feet to walk away, but changed her mind. Reaching down, she pulled Deja’s arm.
Deja opened her eyes, surprise brightening them, and began to protest, but Faith tugged at her until she scrambled out of the sleeping bag. Faith didn’t look at the other woman as she led her toward Trake.
He sighed and held the bag open wider.
Faith grinned at him then motioned to Deja to enter. Deja looked hesitantly at Trake who shrugged and motioned for Deja to get in. It would be a cozy fit, but there was room.
Faith waited until Deja was fully situated. Then she crawled in headfirst through the opening at the top of the bag. Faith heard Deja gasp as she wrapped her lips around Deja’s clit. In return, Deja’s lips covered Faith’s clit, and her orgasm built fast and strong.
* * * *
Faith carried the supplies from the general store back toward the tent she and Trake had established in an open plot on the edge of the sprawling camp. She glanced across the clearing toward the central office, the largest permanent structure. At the two-story wooden building, people were preparing for elections. The candidate registration sign hung over a window.
The camp appeared to be a normal rural settlement. She watched a young Aristo walk hand-in-hand with her equally young, non-Aristo partner. The community was composed primarily of immigrants and people from the southern countries like United New Atlanta. There was also a large population of Aristos and their immigrant partners. Faith and Trake had raised no special notice when they’d joined the community.
However, Faith was troubled. She wanted to know where the Resistance was. They had been here a week, and she couldn’t find it. The series of interconnected camps was located where the original Resistance camp had been established decades ago, but the only official armed unit was the small police force the elected leaders of the community had established to keep the peace.
A nagging thought raced through Faith’s mind. Elections! This community has elections! Most of the people she had talked with agreed that the problem with New Washington, D.C. was that it needed elections, not a monarchy, yet no one had any plans to do anything toward bringing that about. Yes, there were people living in the Resistance camp, but Faith couldn’t actually find any Resistance.
Faith passed many people as she made her way back to Trake; there were hundreds of people of all ages here. The economy was based on work crews who harvested the illicit plants that were sold as drugs in the back alleys of New Washington, D.C. Anyone could farm anything they wanted simply by going into the hills and working a piece of land. There were also pirate gangs who based themselves in the camps, and a large market for illegal drugs, weapons and prostitution existed. Faith was glad she hadn’t come here alone.
As she neared her tent, she noticed an overweight man wearing a speaker’s suit. The suit glowed and projected the speaker’s voice. Such a suit was not only expensive to purchase, it was expensive to operate due to the power cells required.
The gray-haired man spoke to the people walking through the nearby clearing. “Sector Fourteen residents, most of you should know me. I am Rowl Tolkan, your ward leader. In an hour, the voting will open, and it is time to cast your vote for your ward…”
Faith didn’t stop to hear the rest. She continued walking until she arrived at the entrance of their tent, their home.
Trake looked up from staking a tarp to cover the floor. He smiled at her then frowned. Ignoring his furrowed brow, Faith walked in and placed the supplies in the small utility cabinet they’d bartered for as they’d done to get the tent.
Faith couldn’t wait to get her hands on a cot, so they wouldn’t have to continue sleeping on the floor in the sleeping bag.
“What’s wrong?” Trake asked her.
Faith hesitated before she spoke. It was so tempting to simply settle into the camp life and work a plot of land for food and supplies, but she accepted she’d been forever changed by her recent experiences. Her entire family had been eliminated by a brutal regime. “Are you feeling okay?”
Trake placed the hammer on the ground and rubbed his hands together as he appeared to consider her question. “What do you mean by okay?”
Faith paced inside the tent. “I mean okay with this? We thought we were joining the Resistance.”
“Yes,” Trake said slowly, “but it appears there is no Resistance.”
She stopped and studied him. He returned her gaze evenly.
“I can’t just give up.”
Trake gave her a relieved look. “That’s good. We’re on the same page.”
Once again, she was amazed at how perfect they were for each other. She raised her arms for a hug.
Trake rose from his crouch and embraced her. She was glad she’d brought a smile to his face. Having a relationship such as this was new to her. “I love you, Trake.”
“I love you too, Faith.”
Trake held her tightly, as if he didn’t want to let go.
Their future was unsure, and all of their possessions fit in this single tent. However, she was happier than she’d ever been. Finding the Resistance camp, but not finding a Resistance force, had been very frustrating, but they had each other. However, she wasn’t content and wouldn’t just give up.
The sound of a speaker and a gathering crowd outside the tent drew Trake’s attention. “What’s going on?”
Faith shrugged as she stepped out of their embrace. “Just some stupid guy running for ward head.”
“What’s that, do you know?”
“Yeah, each section of the camp has a ward head who is elected each year…” Faith’s voice trailed off. Then an idea struck. She grabbed Trake’s hand and pulled him from the tent.
“Good water and reasonable rental fees, that’s what I promised last cycle and that’s what I will continue to deliver,” Rowl said to the small crowd of about twenty people.
Most of the residents had their arms crossed or were whispering among themselves, looking bored and apparently hoping something more exciting would happen.
Across the clearing, Faith watched Deja walk up, clearly coming to visit Faith and Trake. Faith’s pulse quickened at the sight of the beautiful dark-skinned woman.
After arriving at the camp, Deja had settled in the side populated by a large number of single gays, lesbians and transgender people. Deja had proven to be popular and found it easy to find a place to sleep each night. Faith hadn’t seen her in two days. The last time they’d talked, Faith had discovered Deja was smitten with a girl she’d met.
So much had changed in so little time. Faith was happier than she’d ever been. Not only had she made peace with Deja, she trusted the soldier woman with her life. Her brother was gone, and there was nothing she could do to bring him back. However, there was still something she could do for the Resistance. After walking out of a prison cam
p, she wasn’t the same person anymore.
“What about the Resistance?” Faith shouted to be heard over the crowd.
A quiet descended, and Trake stiffened beside her. Rowl appeared surprised by the unexpected interruption and turned to face her.
“I’m sorry?” he said in a calm, casual voice, his speaker’s suit not requiring him to raise his voice.
Faith’s ire grew hotter as the speaker seemed ready to brush her off as if she’d asked about some trivial matter. “The Resistance! Ever heard of it?” she fired back. She started to walk toward him, but realized more people would hear her if she stood away and shouted. She was prepared to yell until she lost her voice; she might not get a better opportunity.
“Yes, I have, of course, heard of the Resistance,” Rowl said, turning to the crowd with a smile.
Faith balled her hands into fists and stiffened her arms by her side. “Cut the shit, Mr. Ward Boss. I’m asking what you plan to do about fighting New Washington!” She was afraid to turn to see Trake’s reaction because if it wasn’t what she expected, she would lose her nerve. She glanced toward Deja and caught her smile, which gave Faith strength to continue. “What about those who want to fight?”
Rowl cleared his throat and lightly tapped his chest with the tips of his fingers. He glanced at the people in the crowd who were now clearly engaged. “That, um…that is not a ward issue,” he said finally.
“Then whose is it?” Faith shouted back. This time she did glance at Trake.
He returned a serious I am ready for battle stare.
Her heart leaped. He has no idea what I’m doing, but he’s ready to support me. This was real love—life and death love.
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