"You were amazing tonight, my champ," Jenna smiled to him. "Why aren't you over here with me?"
"Just thinking is all," he said. Climbing into bed with her was tempting, especially after such a long, strange day as this one, but he wasn't sure that he wanted to clear his mind just yet. Things were going wrong and something felt off. He just couldn't put his finger on it. "What a fuckin' day."
"Oh baby," she slid out of bed, slinking across the room towards him wearing nothing but a pair of black laced panties, her breasts two perfect, perky orbs on her sleek torso. "Let me make it all better."
"Ah fuck," he said, feeling her hand slide down his chest, her breasts pressing against his back while her hand kept sliding down. "Jenna, look, I—"
"What?" She asked in an innocent tone, him stopping dead in his tracks when her hand plunged into his pants and wrapped around his cock. He felt himself growing in her tight grip, her hand starting to move up and down the length of it and his troubles melting away in her skilled hands. "See, that wasn't so difficult, was it?"
"No," he groaned, feeling her hand stroke up and down his engorged member. "It sure wasn't."
"Here," she moved towards the bed, holding onto his hand and leading him while she laid back down on the bed, legs agape while she pulled him in, wrapping them around him. His hands instinctively moved towards her breasts, her working her hands on his button, dropping his pants to the ground. "Mmm, see?" She was looking up at him, her lips moving in towards him. "Isn't this much better?"
Before he knew it he was inside of her mouth, her lips caressing him gently, her hand working its way up and down like a piston. The blood of those men, their cries, the call for mercy and the judgement of TK Gabriel was leaving his mind. Only the thought of her expert lips gliding along his cock remained. Vera wasn't there, which bugged him. They were having a conversation before when he had just dismissed her. She wasn't as hot as Jenna by any stretch, but that girl's mind did things to him.
None of it mattered when Jenna peeled off her panties and he was deep inside of her, thrusting and grunting away the pain of knowing that he might be disposable to Jordan Branch, knowing that things didn't feel right. How could things feel any differently while he was deep inside of this bombshell? She was there because of Branch, there because of his victories in the arena. That's who he was now; he was the man that ruled over the arena, the man who got the girl.
Eight
The Engineer
Vera couldn't help but fume while she stomped through the gilded hallways and the luxury suites at Branch Tower. She knew if she went back to their suite that Jenna would be fucking him, that he'd be drinking away the guilt like he always did and that she'd be disgusted as always. How that become her lot in life was beyond her, but she was supposed to be thankful for even being alive. Branch hadn't invented mind control—yet—but the "gift" of that girl and the unlimited booze was the easiest way to keep that brute from thinking for himself. She didn't hate Jenna, nor was she jealous of her, really, but she always felt like another way that Branch could control his "champion" into not questioning his own frail existence under the iron fist of Jordan Branch and his arena.
Eventually Will's luck would run out, no matter what she tried to do for him, and that scared the shit out of her. The night had mellowed into an eerie calm, the Branch elite resting their weary heads on their feather pillows in the face of humanity's extinction after a night of ultraviolence. She walked silently through the hall to the greenhouse on their floor, the superfluous one that wasn't needed for food production but existed as a hobby for Branch's elite guests if they felt so inclined, overlooking the arena, of course. There were a lot of things to do in Branch Tower for an industrious woman such as herself, none of them were related to what she was actually good at, none of them were official jobs that she was supposed to be doing, either. It had just seemed to her that everyone else was awful at their own jobs. Whoever was in charge with the greenhouse on this floor, for example, was lazy and didn't seem to know how to tend to any of the crops. There were mostly rows of tomato and lettuce, which just about anyone could grow under normal circumstances. Yet she'd find herself in the greenhouse every so often to see them wilting.
Vera grabbed the old, tin watering can and filled it up, the hose taking a while before it went from sputtering to pouring a steady stream of water out thanks to how the water purification system worked on-demand and didn't keep much of a supply of clean water. Apparently they didn't want to keep giant tanks of water around, each floor having its own reserve tank that emptied rather quickly, meaning that at times like this she'd have to wait for the system to purify water when she needed it. While it was a nuisance, she understood that outside of those walls the fight for water was a true struggle, especially clean water that wasn't contaminated by the bombs. Sometimes it was difficult to remember that while things within the confines of Branch Tower weren't great, there weren't many options. The little slice of humanity that she saw outside wasn't any better than what they found inside of there. At least they had food, water and a roof over their heads.
"Oh, sorry," a voice startled her. "I didn't know that there was anyone in here."
"Christ," Vera took a deep breath, turning to see TK Gabriel standing in the doorway. "You scared me half to death."
"Sorry."
"Wait, you are that movie guy, right?"
"I guess."
"We all were a lot of things before, weren't we?"
"Now we're puppets for a raving madman. Seems like an even tradeoff."
"If you mean Branch..." she said, "I'd keep that to yourself if I were you. He doesn't take kindly to being questioned. The walls have ears and all of that."
"Too late for that, I reckon."
"So you are leaving, then? You just got here and had a big welcome party thrown for you."
"And I'm already being asked to earn my keep," he said. "Since there don't seem to be any movie sets or cameras around, my best guess is that he wants to throw me into that pit with his monsters and put on a show for these people."
"Oh," a sudden feeling of shame consumed her. "You know, not all of us agree with the arena. It's just... a part of life here."
"Some life. Doesn't seem worth the price of admission to me."
"No, it doesn't," she said. "I mean, you were a movie star, I was an astrophysicist, now the only thing of worth that I do is water these plants and make sure that William's gauntlet is in working order."
"Farrington?"
"Yes, Farrington... why?"
"So you made that thing?"
"Oh, yeah, it's pretty cool, right?" She perked right up. "It's like the only thing that I've been able to do since everything fell apart that made use of my talents. William might seem like a brute and all, but he's not that bad, he actually was the one who brought me here and—"
"I should really be going..."
"Oh," she said. "Okay, I, uh, nice meeting you?"
"Right," with that he exited the room, leaving Vera alone inside of the greenhouse feeling uneasy. If Branch was going to toss Gabriel into the arena, there was a very good reason for it. There was also a chance that he'd have to fight Will. In fact, that scenario made a lot of sense to her. Gabriel was brought in to a lot of pomp and fanfare, then Will, who was supposed to be retiring from the arena, was told to keep fighting a while longer.
Vera wasn't entirely sure what that meant for them, or what it meant for Gabriel, either. Branch might've been an asshole, but he was an intelligent asshole that was always looking out for his own interests. Chances were that this wasn't what it seemed like on the surface at all and that he was looking to make some sort of grand statement. What that statement was she wasn't quite sure of yet, but she had to find out what Will knew about it. Watering became the afterthought while she stashed the watering can and slapped her palms against her jeans, wiping off the dirt. The hallway was just as quiet, but now it felt ominous instead of peaceful. A blood-curdling cry stopped her dead in her t
racks. The cry wasn't close, but it sounded like it came from outside. The building was mostly sound-proofed, but the cry felt like it shook the building nonetheless. A chill ran down her spine and she quickened her pace towards their room, absently fumbling with her room key before hearing the lock click and throwing the door open, slamming it shut behind her while trying to catch her breath.
"Oh fuck," Will was crooning, huddled over Jenna's svelte frame, hips rhythmically slamming into her, his hairy ass an eyesore amongst her carefully carved perfection. She could barely make Jenna out from underneath him if it wasn't for her hands gripping the edge of the bed and her hair whipping around. "Oh yeah, baby, I'm so close."
"Hurry up and finish," Vera muttered, shaking her head while she walked by towards the kitchen for a drink. Beer bottles littered the table by the bed, clanking against each other while the bed lurched to and fro.
"Oh, my god baby!" Jenna's muffled voice came from the dark recesses of the bed.
"Oh god, oh yes," William was shouting out before he stopped, gave a few more thrusts and collapsed on the bed next to her, panting and fighting for breath. "Now that's a good fuck," he said, reaching out and slapping Jenna's still exposed ass on the side, her squealing.
"Are you done now?" Vera asked.
"Oh, I could go all night," he jested. "What's gotten your knickers? You want a go as well?"
"No, christ," she picked up an opened bottle of vodka, took a sniff and a swig before slamming it back down on the table. "This is serious, fuckwit."
"I'm all ears then," he said.
"'cuse me," Jenna gathered up a sheet, wrapping it around her torso and clutching to it lightly while she strode through the room towards the bathroom, almost like she was hoping that it'd fall off of her.
"My god, that one," he said.
"I need you to focus, Will."
"Fuckin' 'ell, I'm focused, now what's got your cunt all worked up?"
"What do you know about TK Gabriel?"
"That actor bloke?"
"Yeah, the actor."
"I dunno, just that he's some cunt arse from Hollywood that ain't a fan o' mine."
"That's all that you know about him?"
"Alright, alright, damnit," he swished around a bottle on the nightstand looking for a drink. "Pass me that vodka, at least?"
"Fine," she held it out for him, William snatching it and taking a pull. "Now talk."
"Branch wanted me to get him worked up tonight, you know, all right n' riled up over what we're doing. He thinks that he'll be bad news for all of us, that people might follow him or some'un."
"So that's why you didn't get to retire?"
"Aye. That's the bitch of things, innit?"
"So you know all about this, then? You're okay with it?"
"He's some poofter movie star," he said, taking another pull from the bottle. "What is there to worry about? I've got that gauntlet you made, I've got the crowd and most importantly, I've got Jordan Branch on my side. What else could I need?"
"How do you know that we can trust Branch, though? You were supposed to retire, right? Now you aren't. I don't know, Will, I don't trust this."
"It'll be fine, christ," he said. "Why can't you be more like Jenna?"
"Because Jenna can't fix your gauntlet and keep you from getting mauled to death in that arena."
"Ain't that the kicker," he shook his head. "By the way, could you please give 'er a look before tomorrow?"
"Wait, are you fighting again tomorrow? There is usually some time off in between."
"Dunno," he said. "Just wanna be prepared is all."
"I think that you know something and you aren't telling me," she bit at her thumbnail.
"What the fuck?" He said. "Can you just look at the damned gauntlet for me and make sure that it's ready to go?"
"Fine," she picked herself up. "I'll head down to the workshop now, alright?"
"Thank ya," he gave her a nod, Jenna emerging from the bathroom still wrapped in the sheet, flopping down on the bed next to him.
Time had slipped away from her and seemed to matter less and less after her conversation with Will, but she knew that it was late. The sound that she heard before was fresh in her mind, although she didn't have time to mention it to Will during his ignorant digressions. He was so thick-headed sometimes and really thought that he was the most important man in that tower outside of Branch. What scared her the most was that he possibly was. If Gabriel posed a threat to Branch's authority, what did he think about Will, the unstoppable champion of the arena? Will was very much his puppet and was quick to believe Branch, but Branch's behavior seemed erratic, at best, when it came to his legacy.
The link of some Hollywood type being a threat was a difficult one for her to make in her mind. People would remember him, sure, but he represented all that wasn't anymore, while Branch could present his own vision of the future with somewhat tangible results. Then again, his grasp on the situation seemed to be slipping from his fingers the more that he grew weary of everyone around him. She had seen none of his experiments outside of Demoreo, who made his way throughout the arena and struck fear into the hearts of everyone. The elevator ride down to the basement to where her workshop was located felt like an eternity, thoughts swirling in her head of what Jordan Branch's true motives could be, what her future was and what the hell that sound was before.
As soon as the elevator door opened a wave of heat rushed at her, the sound of screams, groans and sirens filling the smoke-filled air, mixing with the scent of freshly spilled blood, not that stale smell that permeated the arena. Vera absently stumbled out of the elevator into the hallway, covering her mouth up from the stench, and made her way towards her workshop. Every bit of her body was urging her to turn back, to get back into the elevator and return to her room, but she wanted to make sure that her workshop was all right. If William's gauntlet somehow went missing, that would mean the end of all of this, and probably the end of her. She traced her hand along the wall while she made her way through the dark hallway, only accented by the occasional red light from the alarms. There, laid out in front of her path, lay a perfectly still body of a man on the ground before her, Vera having to step over him. She almost slipped on the puddle of blood that surrounded him before catching herself on the knob of a door.
"Keep it together, Vera," she muttered, pushing forward, knowing that her workshop was just two doors away. The smoke had mostly dissipated, now just the stench of the dead, the alarms and the red light set the tense mood in the hallway. Another door past. The next one was hers, she reminded herself. "Keep it together," she closed her eyes and pressed forward, the sound of gunshots and shouts from up ahead making her jump out of her skin. Her pace quickened, finding the door, swiping the key card and throwing open the door to see her room undisturbed. The door slammed shut behind her, her body wedging up against it, hoping to keep whatever was going on away from her. Her hand scaled up the door to the deadbolt, fastening it with a click in vain hope that it would be enough.
The small lamp over the workbench went on with a click, illuminating the desk and the hunk of spiked steel that served as William's gauntlet laying there looking menacing even in its still state. She always thought it looked goofy on William, but on its own it looked like every bit of an instrument of death that it really was. Charged with a 450mA it was enough to stop a heart when it hit, but with the impact from his fist to a head, well, the results spoke for themselves. Heads exploded, bodies twitched, and the crowd roared. Everything seemed fine on the gauntlet itself, just in need of a recharge, and it should be ready to go the next day, that is, if he really would be fighting the next day. It was never two nights in a row, ever.
More gunshots made her jump, then a pounding on the door. "Fuck," she swore under her breath, turning to the lamp and flicking it off. "Fuck fuck fuck."
"Open up in there!" The voice called, the pounding increasing in intensity. "Open the fuck up now!"
She reached over to the gauntlet, clumsi
ly slipping it onto her right hand. She wasn't sure how William dealt with wearing such a cumbersome instrument of destruction, the cold metal with the light leather lining on the inside that his sweaty fist had made malleable and quite rank to the sniff. She flipped the switch on the back, powering it on with the LED indicator showing 50% battery left in it, enough to fry whoever was on the other side of that door. The pounding intensified, followed by the click of the lock. Whoever was on the other end had a key. The deadbolt was still across, but she knew there was a failsafe for that as well, just had to hold out hope that this person didn't have that key.
"Open the bloody door, damnit! Fine," he said. "Then I'm coming in."
Click, the bolt unlatched, Vera clenching her right fist tight, gauntlet at the ready. The door swung open, Vera charging at the figure screaming. "Grrraa!" She called before feeling the butt of a rifle connect on her forehead, pain jolting through her body while it dropped hard to the floor.
"What the bloody hell are ya doing?" The man stood over her. She looked up, her vision blurred but recognizing the red gloves worn by William's brother, Stuart.
"Stuart?" She looked up at him, rubbing her head with her left hand.
"Bloody fuck, Vera," he closed the door behind him. "Ya aren't supposed ta be here."
"I was just checking on Will's gauntlet and..."
"Didn't you fuckin' hear me?" He reached down and grabbed at her arm, tugging her up to her feet violently. "Get the fuck outta here!"
"Fuck off, Stuart," she pulled her arm out of his grip. "Don't fucking touch me."
"Fuckin' cunt," he said. "It's not safe down here, didn't you hear the gunshots, the screams, see the blood or fuckin' bodies?"
"Yeah, but, I..."
"What part of it not being safe don't you get, cunt?" He opened the door and looked around. "I've gotta get you outta here right the fuck right now, c'mon."
"Fine," he went to tug at her elbow again but she resisted, tossing the gauntlet back on the bench. "Just don't touch me, Stuart, or I'll have William kick your ass."
The Tower Page 8