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Condemned

Page 4

by Cari Silverwood


  None of the townsfolk had followed this far out but the clerk watched from a small ridge.

  It was far enough away that they could deceive him and talk about options as they picked up the shovels.

  Timin fired the pistol shot next to her head and they shoveled in the dirt, having flipped baskets over her head and body. Those had been left in the grave from the hour they’d dug it. It was Takk’s forethought—he planned everything he could, left little to chance. Those baskets were her best hope. If the soil squashed them flat, she’d die. Enough weight of soil could stop anyone’s chest from moving, would crush this girl down and suffocate her even if she had air around her mouth.

  His stoical expression was faked when they threw the first shovelful. Under that basket were her rosy lips, those pretty eyes. She was alive and they buried her.

  Zo cursed the obstinacy of the clerk.

  They patted down the grave lightly and left with the clerk, riding away from her.

  All of them were wishing her luck.

  That she wouldn’t be dead.

  The clerk had made it plain they needed to go to the town and sign the death form before they could go elsewhere.

  Fuck. That word was heavy in Zo’s mind and he rarely swore.

  This was the only problem they could not have predicted or allowed for—having to ride back into town. He glanced backward. Birds flew overhead, cawing. Black ones. The trees around the grave site were backlit by the late morning sun, branches clawing the sky.

  His florse heaved beneath him and he realized someone had flicked at its flank.

  Takk raised a glove, gave him the knowing eye, and Zo nodded back. Yes, he could try something.

  After years of soldiering, they could read each other’s thoughts, or close enough.

  “Sir!” he called to the clerk, Benelo, who shared his belief in zendokai philosophy. Zo leveraged that yet again by casually brushing away hair from over his eye. On his temple he wore the scarlet-and-black zendokai tattoo of interlocked circles and stars. “I believe I left a talisman given to me by my sister at the grave. It may have fallen into the dirt.”

  He raised his eyebrows in obvious hope.

  “Oh! I see.” The clerk, a small, lightweight mauleon, looked startled, shifted sideways. The paleness of face he’d suffered on seeing the blood running down Avalon had reverted to a healthy pink. “It cannot wait?”

  “I’d prefer to retrieve it. My brother soldiers can sign for me. I trust them not to steal my bonus.” Zo smiled. “May I?”

  “Of course. Yes. You can do that. I know your honesty, sir.”

  And at that blessing, Zo turned his mount and rode back to the buried girl. Only Kondio’s scythefox, Gia, paused in mid-lope and sat watching after him, her red ears twitching. The rest of the troop trotted onward and after a few seconds Gia turned swiftly to follow them.

  All up to him.

  He’d get there on time. Surely he would? Strange how much he needed that to be true.

  Was it just that they’d devoted so much effort to this, he wondered as the hooves drummed on the track.

  No.

  He thought not.

  Avalon had become a sort of mission for them, a project. A way to dismiss the insanity of war?

  As of this moment, he felt unsure of his own reasons. Which was very unlike him.

  Fate had something in mind.

  He touched his zendokai tattoo and did the little genuflection to the heavens.

  Fate trumped the endeavors of both mauleon and mankind.

  Once they were around the bend and out of sight, he touched his heels to his dark-haired mount, spurring it. The florse surged, leaving the road completely for a microsecond, the semi-useless wings flapping as they took off at full gallop.

  Chapter Eight

  Avalon had remembered to wriggle as they piled the dirt on her. Not too much though. She also remembered someone might be watching. Of course, the assholes had left her hands tied. Anything to make life difficult.

  Something had been chewing at the rope, shifting the turns of rope, and she prayed it was Nibbles. If not, she might think about screaming any second now. How did he even get there? Definitely Nibbles was not an organic, oxygen-breathing mouse.

  Panicking in fits and starts, she nevertheless waited to the count of fifty breaths before attempting to worm her way upward.

  The time might not be enough for whoever might be out there to have departed, but the air was growing stale, or it felt so to her muddled head, and moving her chest was becoming harder and harder to do.

  The cold earth hugged her, pushed her down, and even raising her arm was nearly impossible. The grave seemed determined to keep her with it, forever. She put her back into it, dragged her legs closer, up to her body, huddling under a blanket of solid dirt.

  The bonds on her wrists snapped. Fuck, yes.

  She wriggled some more, whimpering when the basket over her head leaked dirt onto her face. Heart thudding loud enough to wake the worms that counted this place as home, she went into full-on panic mode and thrust with every muscle, only to find soil spilling into her mouth.

  Cold, heavy, bitter, flesh-rotting, plant-feeding soil. She was not a plant.

  She spat and the earth in her mouth moistened.

  If she stayed where she was, this was her fate. To be swallowed by the ground.

  She clamped her mouth shut and tried again; her shoulders seemed to shift what held her down. Mouth tight, holding onto what little air she had left in her lungs, bursting to breathe, she thrust and rammed through the dirt, and surfaced into glaring sunlight and a riffling cool breeze.

  The world of dirt was once again under her palms, where it should be.

  The sound of her gasping overwhelmed her ears, but she spat and let her body recover, shaking, snorting out dirt, brushing more dirt from her hair and mouth.

  Avalon lay down, splayed half out of the grave, with her lower half still covered. This grave she’d come close to remaining inside to the end of time.

  “Almost got me, but you didn’t. Fuck you.” She extended a finger at everything in general. At the world, and at those mauleons.

  Protect her? Hah. She’d protect herself, thank you very much.

  Naked though. She crawled fully out, grimacing at the frayed ropes on her wrists. Nibbles scampered up and sat on a small mound. His pink spots were pretty in the light, despite the dirt on his coat. She’d swear he was smiling back.

  “Thank you, my small friend.” Her voice was croaky.

  She frowned. If he was a mouse-bot, which he seemed to be, unless he was some genetically superior supermouse, then he would be hundreds of years old? No one could make anything like this, not since the Quarantine. The technology had been crushed, had rusted into only a ghost of its old self.

  “You are an enigma, Nibbles.”

  He squeaked back then ran off into the grass.

  Maybe this was his payback? She might never see him again, which actually saddened her. She’d dug him out from under some rubble when she’d glimpsed movement. Pulled on a tail, found a mouse-bot. Find of the century.

  Avalon looked around. Clothes would be nice but escaping into the forest was better. She’d head south to the mountains she’d traversed on the way in, backtrack to Montague. But before she could go over the mountain range, she’d need some clothes.

  Stealing was her forte. Easy.

  She climbed to her feet and found the world spinning again. The drink they’d given her was still in her blood. Which reminded her... she looked down. Her legs were covered in the red stuff, as well as dirt. That would draw wild animals. A flush of greener foliage showed on some trees peaking above the nearby forest. That seemed to promise water. She should wash, drink, get her bearings.

  “Let’s go,” she muttered to her legs, and took the first step, staggered sideways, readjusted her sense of up and down. She could do this.

  The trees took a while to reach via her zigzag path, but the morning was fre
sh and already she’d saved herself from being buried forever and lost those mauleon idiots. Go me.

  She plunged into the forest and soon lost sight of sky and sun, except for tiny patches shimmering between the leaves far above. Twigs cracked underfoot and she swore quietly at the discomfort as roots and rocks assaulted her bare soles. It was bearable though. Her calluses were thick from days on the road and her love of climbing—trees, buildings, rock walls, all those had succumbed to her.

  Dappled in muted light, shielded from the wind, for the first time in many days, she felt safe. Well, safer. There’d be beasts in here. She’d have to be careful.

  Half an hour later, when she stopped to listen, she was sure she heard the gurgle of a stream. As luck would have it, she also heard someone shoving their way through the underbrush.

  Frozen in place, she strained to see them. They were behind her. Climbing to hide herself was out—too obvious.

  The trees stretched their trunks upward toward the distant light, slicing up her surroundings the same as had the bars of her cell. Between them she glimpsed a flicker of shadows and the stalking gait of someone larger than her.

  She crouched then squirmed her way into the ferns and discarded debris of the trees. Here she could hide, be invisible, surely? She only needed to wait for him to pass by.

  Silence reigned, except for the rustle as he moved to her left. With her head turned, she watched, her eyes slits, praying. Unless he was a consummate tracker, he’d be unaware of her presence.

  He halted, raised his head and she saw who this was.

  Zo, the sneaky one. His head was tilted back then cocked to the side. He was close enough that she could see the expansion of his chest as he inhaled.

  Could a mauleon scent blood?

  Ignoring the crawl of bugs as much as possible, she pressed herself closer to the earth, though a tiny blue critter paused by her hand. Antennae questing, it kissed her forefinger.

  She cursed in a minuscule whisper and shifted her hand, knocked a broken branch held upright in the ferns. It fell, the ferns quivered.

  Fucker-fucker-fucker.

  Out there, the mauleon shifted and came closer, much closer.

  Avalon heard him breathe through his nose and hold it.

  The mauleon was smelling for her.

  Chapter Nine

  Zo might have lost the scent of blood, he might have continued on, except for the flash of white then the shivery wave of some plants to his right. As he moved toward the area, the white flashed again. Something small had run across his line of sight, fast, and he was sure it was the creature the girl huleon kept as some sort of pet.

  He’d known she was alive, had followed the crooked path she’d taken through the grass on the way to this forest.

  There. The curve of something that could only be the bare calf of a female. Slowly he took three more steps, bent a little, then slid his gaze to the left. If this was a girl there should be... yes, as predicted, there was the high, pale mound of her ass. Most of her was hidden, but not enough. Zo smiled.

  He’d found her. He straightened, sensing the likelihood of her fleeing, imagining himself wrestling her down.

  The blood on her had only given him a clue as to where she had gone. Her pet had revealed her.

  Pet.

  She would make a fine pet for him, and the others. His balls told him so.

  Cautious, he advanced another step, twigs crackling despite his attempt to be silent.

  She broke for it, rising from the undergrowth and dashing.

  With a roar, exulting at the chase, Zo sprinted after her, sweeping aside the hanging plants, his boots crushing over the mess on the forest floor. In ten strides he ran her down, caught her arm, and wrenched her to a halt, spinning.

  She tried to kick him. He caught her leg and threw her down, pinned her under the weight of his body. The struggle was crazily intense, with her bucking and flailing, but it was over in seconds.

  Both of them were panting, but he was the one grinning with all his teeth.

  “Be still. It’s no use.” He smacked her butt, gulped in a breath. “I’m bigger than you.”

  She bucked again, cursing him, and he trapped both her hands at her back, sat on her harder.

  Despite her wriggling between his thighs, he leaned in and bit the angle of her shoulder.

  Fangs fastened deep—though not quite enough to break her skin.

  He shook his head lightly, jaw tight and twisting her muscle, tasting her. Dirty, grimy, but all female. Her spluttering exhalations could be felt through his thighs and seen on her face where she’d turned it to the side, her mouth half-buried in leaves.

  His growl and the bite-hold made her freeze, whimpering.

  “Be good.” He released her shoulder then slowly sat up. “I’ll let you stand. I can run you down again if you force me.”

  Zo looked around, noted the signs of a nearby creek.

  “Come.” He rose, dragging her with him.

  The defiance in her eyes and his own perverse inclinations made him whip loose his smaller weapons belt. He turned her, spun her really, wrapped the belt about her wrists, and cinched it tight with the buckle. He wasn’t inclined to be gentle at this moment, not with a raw scratch from her claws burning down his neck.

  That she barely protested as he handled her sang to the dominant side of him. His gaze ripped down her and he greedily took in her curves, her scent, the taste of her in his mouth. Sucking on her between her legs while she was tied up like this...

  He swallowed and tore his focus higher. The red bite mark on her neck was no less arousing.

  “Ouch.” Her fingers flexed and she twisted her hands against each other.

  “I’ll let you loose when you’ve calmed, and we’ve talked. Go before me. We’re heading for that water you can hear.”

  With one finger he nudged her into moving, found it pleasing how tall he was compared to her. The sway of her ample butt was distracting. His eyes kept straying there as they walked. Twice he had to hop after walking into a branch then a tangle of vines.

  His reactions bemused him.

  When had his libido decided to return? It could’ve given him fucking advance notice. The erection was making his pants uncomfortable and he was certain he’d leaked into them.

  Both of them needed cleaning.

  The others would track them. Kondio was good at that due to his scythefox. Though late pregnant, the scythefox could sniff out this girl as easily as a man could sink his cock into that ass.

  Zo sighed.

  She likely wasn’t going to take a mauleon properly yet.

  Even a little would be fun, his evil side suggested.

  So true.

  The leaves of one of the shrubs they passed were of a species that could substitute for soap, so he stripped off some and stuffed a few handfuls in his pockets.

  First, get her clean.

  Chapter Ten

  Sunshine shafted in through the foliage, lighting the clearing the stream ran through. Grassy banks edged the slow-moving water. As he urged her into the middle of the stream, Zo’s feet found sandy mud and water-smoothed boulders a few feet underwater. The water gurgled past at her waist level and he kept a hand tucked into her elbow. Wouldn’t do to let her drown.

  The stream strayed down from the mountains by a winding route and summer had warmed it to a few degrees under what the air held.

  It was a crisp skin-tingling temperature. They could stand it long enough for him to get both of them clean. He’d pulled off his shirt before they slipped over the bank. His pants held the soapy leaves and could stand for a cleansing too, so he’d kept them on.

  Besides they acted as a barrier.

  He needed to slow down. She was affecting him way too much.

  Zendokai philosophy had been his touchstone for much of his adult life. Self-control, be one with your feelings and with nature. Control of one’s self was always his weakness.

  Fucking was nature as far as he was
concerned. However, fucking girls with added sadism meant taking a step back... Breathe. Breathe some more.

  “We have some talking to do. You ran away when you saw me. Why? You agreed to be ours in return for us helping you escape execution.”

  Her sullen, pouting expression had him curious and amused. She stayed silent.

  Zo kept imagining the red stripes of a birching on that pristine ass of hers, and there was an abundance of young, whippy trees on both sides of this stream. The cold water had barely affected the ache in the rock-hard thing that was currently the master of his pants but not of his brain. He was pretty sure his cock didn’t believe in zendokai.

  “You would have been dead... Avalon.” Using her name would help him remember she was a person. “And not talking will only get you punished harder.”

  Her eyes flew wide open. “What do you mean punished? You cannot do that! It was a ridiculous agreement. Of course I ran away.”

  “And of course I can punish you.” He said that quietly. Though he’d leave the punishing for Takk. Didn’t quite trust himself, currently. “Stand still so you don’t fall.”

  He took some leaves from his pocket and began to rub and soap them into her hair, down her neck, lower... to her breasts, around them, making the gold nipple rings jiggle. With lower lip caught in her teeth, she watched him as if she were some innocent sprite. Innocent, yet her hands were tied at her back making those tits stick out.

  He turned her gently, soaped her back, her ass, even ran his fingers between her legs, where he came across that clit ring, though it was underwater. Then... she... wriggled.

  He almost groaned out loud.

  His zendokai was getting stretched to the fucking limits.

  Touching her was exquisite, awakening him in increasingly disturbing frissons. Repeatedly, he had to wrestle his primitive desires into submission. Skin on skin... smoothing the soap, the bubbles, over all her bumpy bits.

 

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