Wild Passions

by A Storm Moon Press Anthology

  I growled again and Daddy Frank slapped me again. That time I opened my mouth and roared.

  I saw Gordon's head come up. He looked over his bare shoulder at us. Oh, God. Oh Father God, if you love us all like Daddy Frank says, how could you have let these men put that look on his face?

  Bitter, hopeless green eyes looked and saw me. There was no spark of recognition, no joy in the imminent rescue, only deep pain and dull resignation to whatever came next.

  He turned back to staring at the canvas, apparently having given me up for as lost as he was. He might be lost, but we had found him, and he would lose that haunted hopeless look. Mama would help, and Daddy Frank would help, and I would hold him close every night until he could laugh again and play.

  "This will be a fun one. We'll give you three hundred dollars."

  Daddy Frank laughed in a nasty way I'd never heard. "Three hundred? That might get you a used human boy. I"m offering you a virgin construct, a construct that no lab will come looking for because he is supposed to have died in a fire."

  The man who had been stroking my chest still hadn't stopped. Now his hand drifted lower and grabbed my cock. It had gotten hard thinking about Gordon, as it often did these days, so he stroked it.

  "Teddy bear likes me touching him," he crowed. The other men laughed and got up from their game.

  "I'll auction him off. Winner gets his virgin ass, and you can fight among yourselves as to how to share him." Daddy Frank hadn't let go of my leash. He held it up and started to chant like an auctioneer, "Who'll give a thousand bid? Thousand dollar bid now a half?"

  "Frank, don't be ridiculous. Ain't none of us seen a thousand since the bank job."

  "What do you have then?"

  "Got six hundred between us, and we'll fill up your truck. You still got that old beater?" they laughed. "Who's gonna drive you home, blind man, once you sell your boy?"

  "Thought you might let me have the lion for good measure. I think he can drive. Or I can teach him. Throw in a couple crates of canned goods and you got a deal."

  "All right, six hundred, gas, canned food and the lion. Fair enough."

  I watched them poking around. A couple of crates marked GI ended up beside me. Food that was meant for our allies overseas, and these men were stealing it. I growled again. Then one of them started unchaining Gordon.

  "Come on, Leo. You got a new owner now. You gonna go with him, drive for him, and eat government peaches happily ever after," Joe taunted.

  I tensed again as I watched him walk on the end of the human's leash, all stiff and sore, limping where he'd been so graceful. There were no hairs left in the tuft of his tail or his mane. They'd shaved him of all male markers.

  Daddy Frank took the leash and gave me a shove toward them. I felt the soft motion as he undid my bonds. It was time.

  With a full-throated roar, I charged the men, sweeping two into a crushing bear hug. I felt their ribs and backs snap and they screamed in my arms. I squeezed until they quit screaming.

  The tent got a lot brighter and I saw the headlights of the truck in the door. Now we had parked it a quarter mile away. But I didn't ask questions as I peeled the muzzle off.

  Joe was backing away from where Daddy Frank had pulled a gun. "Frank, who do you think you're going to shoot?" he asked, fear plain on his face. The muzzle never left his chest.

  I took a swipe with one heavy paw at the last man, leaving bloody claw marks on the side of his head. He went down and I dropped to all fours. His blood tasted better than coffee, better than chocolate, better even than ripe berries and fresh fish. I ripped and tore, liking the taste of the new meat and the hot wetness that poured down my throat.

  A shot brought me back to myself. I turned and saw Joe fall, pinned in the headlights, bleeding between the eyes. Daddy Frank had the cheaters off. I had never seen his eyes look so focused.

  "All right, boys, grab whatever's worth taking and we'll burn the rest."

  Gordon just stared, trapped in the headlights like a terrified deer. "You're blind, Mr. Frank."

  "I am." He nodded. "But I can see in the truck's headlights."

  "Magic," I said.

  "Technology," he corrected. "Quickly now. I don't want the lice from these scum fleeing their corpses and deciding they're hungry for bear, or lion."

  Gordon moved, still sluggish. Daddy Frank took hold of him and pulled one of his eyes open wide in the headlights. "Uh-hunh. I was afraid of that. Gordon, son, get in the truck. Arthur, work fast. He's too doped to be much use tonight."

  Gordon slouched along and climbed into the truck. He curled up on the seat trying to look small. I grabbed every crate marked GI and all the money off the table. Boxes of tools, coils of rope, even the cast-iron spider that sat by the fire and old tin coffee pot went into the back of the truck. Daddy Frank held out the last lone can of kerosene.

  "Do the honors, son. I'm proud of you."

  I doused all the bodies, the table, the tent poles and everything, as far as the can would spread. I tipped it up, flinging the last drops around. "All out," I said.

  Daddy Frank made his way back to the truck and climbed in the passenger seat. "Get as far out as possible and light it."

  I gathered a handful of flaming sticks from the cooking fire. My loved ones were safe. I stood in the door of the tent and tossed one as far in as it could go. It landed on one of the bandits I had crushed and he caught. I tossed a second to the other side. The third I fanned to great flames and set right at the door as I bolted out and climbed in the truck.

  We backed up fast, and then I turned around and followed the headlights back to the main road. My heart hammered, and my breathing came fast. I laughed, but tears burned cold and wet on my face. My hands started to shake on the wheel. I made it a few miles down the road and pulled over in a roadside park.

  Gordon sat beside me, staring with the big drugged eyes, not really comprehending what had happened. I saw the glow back in the woods. I'd started a forest fire, maybe, but it was worth it to eliminate those scum.

  And I was still naked.

  I laughed until I screamed at that idea, pounding on the dash. Daddy Frank said nothing. I felt a hesitant hand on my shoulder and turned.

  Gordon laid one hand on the side of my face. I turned into it and kissed his palm. He smiled a slow, drowsy smile. "Arthur," he said softly.

  "Yes, I'm here." I wanted to grab him and hold him in close and never let go of him. But that wouldn't be a good idea, not the way he looked. Instead, I opened my arms and let him move into them instead.

  "Are we going home?" he asked, nestling right into my embrace.

  "Yes. Home to Mama for the winter. And then in the spring, you can dance while Daddy Frank plays."

  He laid his head on my shoulder and flicked his tongue over my chin. "Home," he whispered, making it sound liked the best word in the world.

  "You boys take the bed, and I'll sleep up here," Frank said. "We had a busy night. Arthur, you might wash up a little. You smell pretty messy."

  I took a breath and boy, did I stink. Sweat and blood and other things all kind of came together to gag me. "Yeah. Sorry."

  I got out and helped Gordon climb out of the cab. I sniffed around, wondering if there was water nearby. Even muddy ditch water would be better than this reek. How had they stood it all this way? I wondered as I dug clothing for myself and Gordon out of the vardo.

  Gordon didn't let go of me as we walked down to a nearby creek. His movements were still sluggish. I expected they would be for a day or two more. "What were they giving you?" I asked as I splashed in the water. The blood fouled the icy water around me. I felt very ashamed of myself. I was a construct, a thinking being with a soul, and I had behaved like an animal. I rinsed my mouth over and over, the taste of the man's blood that had pleased me so earlier sickened me now. The water might be cold enough to get me clean.

  "Opium," Gordon said, sliding into the moonlit water beside me as if
it was high June and not the shank of the year. "It makes me one sleepy and contented kitty. I'm quite addicted." He stretched on his back and floated in the knee-deep little creek, a picture of feline ease and pleasure. I wanted him desperately.

  "May I kiss you?" I asked. I held my breath, waiting to be told no.

  He gave me a lazy smile and reached up a hand. "Arthur...of course."

  I took his hand and went to my knees in the cold, clear water. I stared for a moment, barely believing he was really here in front of me, holding my hand. Then I bent in to kiss him.

  We had kissed a very few times before, but this was the first, real true lover's kiss. Mama had told me a lot of stories when I was a cub, so I knew it for what it was. It was everything a kiss in the silver moonlight while freezing in a December creek somewhere in the backwoods of Georgia should be, and more. His lips met mine with an odd reluctance, as if he was afraid I would pull away.

  I cradled him closer and kissed him more deeply, not forcefully, but entering when he opened for me. He purred under my tongue and mouth. I felt the missing fang, but kept kissing and holding him. He shivered and I kept kissing him, pulling him right against my body to keep him warm.

  My cock woke up at the feeling of my Gordon pressed all along my body. He felt it and shoved away.

  "I'm sorry," I said, letting go of him and climbing out of the cold water.

  He shook his head a little and came to join me on the bank. We dried off and dressed in the clothes I'd brought. He stayed out of my reach, and that hurt.

  "Come on back to the vardo. We'll curl up together like we used to and sleep safe and warm."

  That got a smile from him. I suspected with the opium addiction it might be his last safe and warm night for a long time. Daddy Frank could probably get him more, but I wanted to get him off of it. I opened the door and he climbed into the vardo, then crawled into the bed up near the cab.

  "I love you," I whispered as I shut the door and curled around him. He tensed and then let me cuddle him close. He didn't say anything, but he did kiss me again. This time, I held down my arousal better and didn't scare him. He fell asleep before I did.

  I lay there, in the dark, holding him, smelling him and memorizing the moment. I wanted to remember it all, forever. The warm weight of him in my arms, the soft curve of his back, the smell of the back of his neck, the little snoring purrs he made, they all added to my memories. There would be a lot of pain and a lot of work in the coming days, but this one night was worth it all.

  I woke up first and took myself and my morning wood out for a leak before Gordon woke up and panicked from the feel of it. I heard him tossing around a little as I started a breakfast fire. I got biscuits going and opened a can of GI bacon. The coffee pot started perking about the time Daddy Frank came out of the cab, wrapping his coat around him.

  Gordon finally stirred. I heard him dressing, putting a coat on. "I'm cold," he grumbled as he came out of the vardo. He yawned hugely, his pink tongue curling in his mouth.

  "Sleep all right, son?" Daddy Frank asked him.

  "Fine." He sat down near the fire and watched me.

  I poured him coffee and served up the food.

  "I'll get us onto a highway today, and we'll find our way home in a couple of days."

  "Make it sooner," Daddy Frank said. "Gordon is going to get very sick soon, as the drug leaves his system, and I'd rather he did it at the cottage than in a roadside park. If I remember right, it's going to be two to four weeks of hell for us all."

  Gordon's hand shook around the coffee cup. "I'm sorry to be such trouble."

  "Not a worry, son. You helped your country, and my boy loves you. That makes you worth the trouble."

  Gordon gulped the coffee and huddled closer to the fire. He didn't touch his food. "My country?"

  "Boys, war is coming. You know it and I know it. Those men were wanted war-profiteers and arms dealers. They're also responsible for damaging a number of labs and munitions depots. I've been tracking men like them for several years now. Old Franklin knows what's in the offing and there are a number of us drifting around the country, eyes and ears open. We'll stay out of war as long as we can, but mostly to build ourselves up. By cutting that leak in our supplies, our allies will have food, and so will our soldiers when the time comes. You've done us a valuable service, Gordon."

  "Daddy Frank, how can you see in the headlights?" I had to know. I always knew the truck was different, but not that it could make a blind man see, even for a little while. That was the stuff of pulp stories, not real life.

  "That's a very long story and I think we'd better get moving. I'll tell you on the way home. You do remember how to get home?"

  I thought a long time about that. There had been mornings when I had awakened in places I'd never seen. I had written that off to being too tired to remember right. But when asked how to get home, I really had no idea. "Uh...no. I thought we'd stop in the next town and let you ask directions. I think we're in Georgia."

  Daddy Frank laughed. "Clear up, boys, and let's be on the road."

  I got the fire out, and Gordon packed. He looked clear eyed, but shaky, like he was getting sick. I put him in the middle of the seat, so we could keep him warm. The road led us into a little town, and I pulled up outside the store.

  Daddy Frank got out, and we waited. I cuddled Gordon close, wrapping a blanket around us, partly for concealment. Constructs weren't at all common in public, so we decided to stay out of sight.

  "Do you mean it?" he asked, although I hadn't said anything.

  "Mean what?"

  "When you say you love me. Or is it just an old habit and too much time by yourself?"

  I held him close, smelling him. The golden desert, clean and dry, was gone. Only the sickly decay smell of mummies and tombs remained. "I mean it. I hunted half the south for you. I killed a human, lots of humans, for you. I love you, Gordon."

  "You want me." He sniffed and then rubbed his head under my chin. I felt the first hint of stubble from his shorn mane.

  "Yes, but only when you want me. I have paws until then. I don't ever want to hurt you or scare you."

  He licked me then, a long slow lick from chin to temple, his wide tongue rough on my fur. I slurped him back, gentle but insistent. He smiled at that.

  "Just a couple of crazy kids in love," he said and nestled closer under the blanket with a big yawn.

  I held him until Daddy Frank came out with directions. We were in northern Georgia, it turned out, and there was a highway not too far away that would take us straight down to Florida. We might stop in Gibsonton and send for Mama. Someone would know how to help us there. Opium wasn't an uncommon problem for the carnival folks.

  The store man came out and filled the truck full of gas. Daddy Frank paid him, and I saw the man try to cheat him by keeping an extra dollar. I growled low and vicious.

  "Whatcha got in there, fella, a dog?" The man counted the last dollar into Frank's hand.

  "Something like that." He climbed in, and I came out from under the quilt to drive. The man gaped as we pulled away.

  The road rolled away, smooth and black. Gordon slept, a warm weight beside me. Daddy Frank played his French harp softly as I drove.

  "Tell me about the truck," I said.

  "His name is Joseph. We served together in the War. We were bright young men then, and we volunteered to be in an experimental weapons unit, even though that unit had a bad reputation for the occasional explosion."

  "The truck is a person?"

  "Let me tell this in my own way, son." Daddy Frank ran his hands over the dash. "We volunteered, like I said. And the things we did would leave other men gibbering and crying. War is like that, and I hope you never have to experience it. I have a bad feeling that when this next one comes, they're going to put constructs on the front lines. Shocktroops of bears and tigers, jaguar spies, canine medics that can get anywhere a dog can, the possibilities are endless. And I'
ve been listening."

  "You always do. Listen twice as much as you talk, you always taught me."

  He reached over and patted my shoulder."You're a good lad. So, we were out committing atrocities of blood and fire and ice when Joseph got hit by a mortar round. I cauterized the missing parts so he didn't bleed out and kept him alive by sheer force of will until we made it back to the base."

  I shivered and watched the road. I could almost see the two young men, one carrying the badly damaged other, straggling into the barracks. I would, for Gordon.

  "One of the doctors in the unit rushed over, more excited than a little kid at Christmas time. You'd have thought I just brought him a new wagon and a pony to pull it, the way he fussed over us. And when it was all over, Joseph didn't have a body anymore."

  It took everything I had in me not to stand on the brake pedal. "No body?"

  "No body. His was too damaged. He was hanging onto life mostly because I was making him. That bright young doctor got his brain and eyes and ears settled into a jar and kept it alive. Joseph hated it. He let me know by telepathy. You know what that is?"

  I'd never heard the word. "No."

  "Thoughts. I could hear his thoughts in my head, like my own thoughts. He hated the jar, he hated being able to perceive but not act. So, I built the truck."

  "He is the truck," I repeated. "I knew it was different."

  "When the headlights are in use, they serve him for eyes. He still communicates telepathically with me. That's how I managed to shoot. That's how I can drive at night and how we found your boy. He heard the scum and passed it along."

  "And that's why I was lost, too. I knew I was waking up in places I never went to sleep, but I knew you couldn't drive."

  "Joseph and I can drive. Not fast and not often, but we manage now and then. Joseph likes you, son. And he likes your mother. He never liked my other drivers, said they were too weak minded to be good company."

  I wasn't sure what to make of all this, so I just followed the highway, letting Joseph have his head. We were going home. I thought I felt a vague echo of the word like a smile in my mind, but it could just have been my imagination.