by Clare Murray
Multiple scenarios, each worse than the next, flipped through her mind. Ironically, the worst part was the absence of the Twins.
At least they gave me a blanket. But if they’ve left the train, I’m probably toast…
She gripped the Glock a little harder. It was more than a little creepy being aboard a dim, deserted train. Any second, someone—or something—might jump out at her from the darkness. She slowed as she neared the end of the carriage, realizing its door was open.
Any second, an army of Barks could rush in, their pale, fishbelly-white bodies undulating as they opened their sharklike mouths and went for her…
Movement in the door made her trigger finger quiver dangerously. She quickly lowered the gun as she recognized the silhouette as a man.
“Gareth,” she whispered. She didn’t know how she recognized him, but her instinct told her it was the quieter of the Twins.
He turned slightly, putting a finger to his lips without stopping his scan of the land around them. Then he reached for her gun, engaged the safety and tucked it back into the holster. Pulling her close, he bent to speak directly into her ear.
“The train broke down. Finn’s guarding the other end of the carriage. Stay behind me, and keep quiet. We don’t want to attract unwanted attention.”
Unwanted attention. Now there was a way to put it. Mari stepped back inside the carriage, peering through the window at the seemingly barren land. She’d been wrong earlier about there being no buildings around—there was a ramshackle cabin in the near distance. Was it infested with Barks?
Gareth seemed to focus most of his attention in that direction. Now that his leather jacket was hitched up a bit, she could see two vicious-looking daggers hanging unsheathed at his waist. Electronic ones, judging by the buttons on the hilt. Otherwise, he didn’t seem to be armed.
Mari frowned. Twins were faster, stronger, more physically capable than a typical human. They’d been created as super-soldiers. Yet surely even they couldn’t successfully fight Barks with two daggers.
In those early days when much of humanity perished, it was reported that Twins had been instrumental in helping to create walled Cities, fighting off Barks by night and shoring up infrastructure by day. Even though more than ninety percent of the population now lived behind walls, Twins still kept busy, guarding transport and Cities.
And, apparently, running strange missions for her government that involved her late father.
Mari took a deep breath and reminded herself that Gareth was probably used to this. She shifted, wondering if she should go check on Finn, but Gareth signaled her to stay put. So she occupied herself by scanning the land herself, wondering what possessed certain people to live outside the safety of walls.
Her own City had only rarely been attacked. The aliens had gotten smarter as years went by, so sustained attacks on walls were rare. The aliens were carnivores and could go long periods without eating. Not that they lacked prey—there was still plenty of wildlife in many areas. Humans, however, seemed to be their favorite dish. So the Barks lurked, preying upon people who didn’t make it back inside the gates before nightfall.
Since crops had to be grown somewhere, and space was at a premium inside walls, humans still had to venture outside. Mari had taken a job as a shepherd several years ago, watching over the animals as they grazed during the day, then driving them back inside the City before sunset. Well before sunset, in fact, to the point where she was eventually fired because her boss was annoyed that the sheep didn’t get that extra half hour of grazing in.
Her boss, however, had never driven the sheep out herself, never experienced the gut-churning terror when one animal wandered a little too far and had to be brought away from an abandoned barn where Barks might have been lurking, waiting to rend flesh away from bone.
That was how Carter had died.
That was also why they assigned two people to tend the flock. These days, stock was too valuable to risk.
Mari sighed. She wouldn’t miss her old City. After the death of her parents, nothing much tied her there. Home had been an old shipping container with two small windows covered by curtains her mother had sewn herself. Her father had slept at one end; Mari occupied the other, with a living room of sorts in the middle. Underneath them had been prim, irascible Josie, living with her son in her own container.
As the population recovered, demand for housing was going up. Rent had increased, and the owner of the container had eventually asked for more money than she could give, spurred on by Tim, who wanted to drive her into his arms. Hopefully, the cost of living in Scar City would be cheaper, for she didn’t have more than a few dollars left.
That meant she would have to locate her father’s stash sooner rather than later, and hope whatever he’d left behind fetched her a decent price.
Gareth’s shoulders tensed, and all Mari’s thoughts fled. Had he seen something out there? She checked her watch again, realizing she’d been standing there for nearly an hour. And it was still a good six hours until sunrise.
The faintest of barks reached her ears, a low, gruff sound. Oh God. One of the aliens must have caught sight of the train and come to investigate. Worse, it was calling its buddies to come as well.
The first one came into sight a few seconds later, its long, powerful hind legs gleaming white in the moonlight. Mari’s breath caught in terror. The urge to run was powerful. She forced herself to hold still, knowing that movement would attract the carnivore’s attention.
Another emerged over the horizon, lolloping behind the first as they came over to check out the train. Mari knew that the locomotives had the ability to completely encase themselves, so the driver would be safe behind several tons of metal. Passengers, on the other hand…
Oh hell. Were there other passengers? She shook her head, trying to remember. No, this was the only passenger carriage. The rest of the train consisted of freight cars, and she devoutly hoped there wasn’t any livestock aboard.
Then again, maybe the stock would distract the Barks from eating them.
Mari swallowed hard as three of the creatures came toward them, the third having seemingly materialized out of nowhere. Gareth made the tiniest of gestures, finger pointing to the floor of the carriage. With reluctance, she obeyed, making sure she moved slowly and carefully.
Somehow, not being able to see the aliens made things ten thousand times worse, even though the way they moved made her vaguely queasy. How could they walk so sinuously? Triple-jointed freakish carnivore aliens. Nobody had seen that coming. Not even the NASA technicians who’d first reported the approach of the motherships decades ago.
Half an hour passed, during which she stared at her watch, prayed and kept her hand on the Glock. Then, suddenly, Gareth moved as a flurry of white nearly overwhelmed him.
Instead of reaching for his daggers, he raised his bare hands—and Mari blinked as spears of light arrowed out. One pierced a Bark, and it shrieked, falling to the ground as blackness spread along its side. A scorched smell wafted toward her, overlaid with an unnatural sweet scent that she assumed was from the Bark itself.
Gareth wasted no time dispatching the thing, kicking its corpse to the ground. Then he resumed his watchful stance.
Minutes ticked by, turning into hours. Mari was just beginning to relax when there was another attack. This time, she heard woofs and yowls from the rear of the carriage and knew Finn must be fighting as well. With a white-knuckled grip on her gun, she watched Gareth kill two more of the things.
He was right. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that she could shoot one of the aliens. They whipped around too fast, and each part of their segmented bodies seemed to be vaguely autonomous. She watched Gareth sever one with that spear of light. Half of the creature dropped, writhing in the dust in its death throes.
The other half kept coming, baring fiercely sharp teeth and balancing on tw
o, instead of six, legs. It feinted in a series of startlingly swift movements, but Gareth was just as quick. Although its teeth came within a hair’s breadth of slicing his skin, the Twin pulled his dagger, driving it through its throat and leaping back as a gout of black blood spurted forth.
He retrieved the dagger and spun, lunging toward Mari as he slammed the carriage door behind him. She moved out of his way, but he motioned her to follow him.
“With me,” he said. “Finn’s in trouble.”
Although she tried, she couldn’t keep up with him. In fact, he was at the other end before she reached the halfway point. A flash of light illuminated the area as he jumped into the fray. She paused in horror as she registered the sheer number of aliens the Twins were facing. At least six were trying to get aboard the train, snapping and snarling as they jostled for fighting room.
Body parts went flying as Gareth and Finn fought back to back. Finn sliced one creature in half, then turned to Mari, mouthing the word hide.
She took his point, for the other end of the carriage was undefended. If a Bark managed to claw open the door, it would be upon her in seconds. But she couldn’t hide, couldn’t take her eyes off the huge Bark, the leader, who crouched a few yards away watching the fight.
Now and then it would emit a low woof, as if directing the other aliens. Its four eyes were deepest black, fixed upon the Twins with the malevolent hatred of a much-thwarted hunter. When it opened its mouth again, it emitted a howl that could be heard for miles around, a sound that rattled the train’s windows and made Mari want to throw up her peanut butter sandwich.
The Twins didn’t pause. Couldn’t pause, she realized. With the rest of the aliens to kill, their hands were effectively tied.
But hers weren’t.
She flicked the safety off the Glock and took aim. The leader remained still but for its eyes, an easy target. The two eyes on stalks swiveled backward, as if awaiting reinforcements…
Mari shot. The bullet took the Bark in the mouth, blowing a hole through its webbed cheek.
It screamed, louder than the howl, and whipped upward in movement. Mari fired again, scoring a lucky hit along one of its legs. It squalled again, rearing up and sprinting away in a blur of white. The smaller Barks followed, fleeing the Twins with yaps and snarls into the slowly lightening darkness.
“Th-thought you said they weren’t susceptible to bullets,” Mari stuttered as the Twins came back inside. She engaged the safety, and Finn helped her guide the gun back into the holster.
“Bullets have their uses.” Gareth wiped his brow and flashed her a smile. “Nice shooting, Mari. They’re gone.”
Whatever Finn was about to say was interrupted by a bleeping in the corner. The Twin reached over and picked up an old-fashioned phone, holding the receiver to his ear. “Yeah?”
The female voice on the other end was so strident, Mari could hear every word. “Everyone all right back there?”
“We drove them off, but we won’t survive another night out here,” Finn said.
“Won’t have to,” the woman said. “I was able to replace the faulty part myself. Hell of a place for a gasket to blow, huh? Anyhow, we can roll out in the next few minutes. Train can’t go over thirty miles per hour, but we’ll get to Scar City eventually.”
“Good to know.” Finn looked relieved. Even so, he never took his eyes off the horizon. Gareth adopted a similar watchful position.
“What’s the body count back there?”
“Zero. There’s only three passengers aboard.”
“And two are Twins. Well, thank God for that. Okay, we’re rolling out now.”
There was a click as the driver hung up. Finn replaced the receiver on the hook and reached over to close the carriage door. Without a word, Gareth left, taking up a position at the other door. It was as if they were communicating telepathically.
Duh, of course they were. They’d told her as much. With a shiver, she realized they’d most likely been communicating mind-to-mind during their…well, earlier.
“You’re blushing,” Finn said. He’d remained next to her, sitting in the aisle seat this time.
“Am I?” She tried to rally but was thrown off-balance—literally—when the train began to move.
Smoothly, Finn leaned forward and tucked her into a tight embrace. She pressed her cheek against his chest, sudden gratitude that they were alive making her a little weak at the knees. The sun was a golden glow on the horizon, growing ever brighter as the train sped up slightly. After its earlier high speed, thirty miles per hour seemed slow. It was a damn sight better than remaining still, though. She supposed she ought to thank her lucky stars that the driver had been able to fix the train and get it rolling again. How long had they sat there in the middle of nowhere? Mari was glad she’d been able to sleep through some of it.
Finn buried his nose in her hair, sniffing. “You smell so good.”
What did one say to that? “Compared to sweat and alien blood, anything smells good.”
He laughed, and Mari felt another pair of arms slip around her. Gareth. His erection was thick against her back, sending a jolt of excitement shooting to her core. Lingering adrenaline from the attack made her shaky—and very much in need of something to remind her she was still alive. So she let herself lean back, drawing on his strength to steady herself.
“Alien blood is poisonous, in case you’re wondering,” Gareth said. “I can assure you that none of it got on us.”
“That’s good.” The art of small talk had temporarily deserted her. Not that it mattered with these men, since they seemed to be fascinated by anything she said. Maybe it was their—very effective—way of flirting, or perhaps it was down to their lack of exposure to normal human conversation.
Gareth continued to hold her against him, brushing a caress down her thigh that nearly made her jump. Her residual terror from their near-miss with the aliens was seeping away, rapidly being replaced with a kind of wild desire she’d never experienced before.
Now that was far preferable to giving way to a panic attack.
Finn tilted up her chin with one insistent hand, leaning forward to kiss her. She melted a little, closing her eyes as he gave her expert attention, his tongue demanding entrance. Behind her, Gareth’s hands pulled up her skirt, dipping into her panties as she let out a soft moan. She was wet already—far wetter than she’d ever been.
Then again, masturbation had nothing on these two men. The orgasm Gareth had given her earlier—that both of them had given her, she corrected herself—blew all previous experiences out of the water. This easily eclipsed magazine articles and their ice cubes too.
And, she reminded herself, what did it matter if she slept with these men? Back in Flagstaff, she’d had to keep her magazines hidden, all desire primly tucked away so that she didn’t incur Tim’s wrath. But Tim wasn’t on this train, and Mari was on her way to a whole new life. There would be no fallout, no repercussions. She could let herself be free for once.
When Gareth withdrew, she made a little gasp of disappointment, but Finn pulled back to reassure her. “It’s all right, baby. He’s just getting comfortable.”
“What?” She turned, finding Gareth pulling out the seats to form a bed. “Oh, I didn’t know they could do that.”
“Seatbeds aren’t all that practical at a hundred miles an hour, since you’ll jounce right out of them. At thirty, they’re perfectly safe. And they conveniently fit all three of us.”
Yes, but would she fit them? Doubt assailed her, but Finn bent to kiss her so thoroughly that her head was spinning by the time they came up for air. Despite his take-charge attitude, he held her lightly enough that she was confident she could pull away if necessary. Instead, she walked toward the bed.
Gareth was already lying there, watching her with half-lidded green eyes. His hand was at his cock, but he hadn’t unzipped his fly. Wonde
ring at her own forwardness, Mari reached over and did it for him. As her fingers caressed his bulge, Gareth breathed in one sharp breath and shucked off his jeans and leather jacket.
He twitched the curtains closed before turning back to her, clad only in a black, short-sleeved shirt. His erection was enormous, a bead of moisture clinging to its head. She’d borrowed a copy of Playgirl once, but that didn’t hold a candle to the real thing. Mari had been half-embarrassed, half-intrigued, flipping through all those pages of naked men.
Here, there was no room for embarrassment. The thought was freeing, invigorating. She wouldn’t have to marry either—or both—of them, wouldn’t have to face any disapproving comments about premarital sex.
Behind her, Finn teased off her blouse, unhooking her bra and tossing the clothes over into the next set of seats. As he worked on her skirt and tights, Gareth came forward to kiss her.
His erection settled against her bare stomach, nearly in the valley between her breasts. She closed her eyes again, losing herself in the moment before the memory of the alien attack could rise up and choke her. Behind Mari, Finn peeled off her tights and settled his own erect cock against the small of her back, toying with her breasts as he kissed the nape of her neck.
“We’re protected, so you know,” Finn told her. “Twins are immune to STDs. Gareth and I took a male contraceptive shot last year, so that’s covered as well.”
Gareth’s lips still lingered on hers, preventing her from responding beyond a bare nod. Disappointment cut through her arousal—if they were taking contraceptives, that meant she was merely one woman of many for them, nobody special.
But no, they’d said she was the first one for both of them. That had to mean something.
And losing her virginity—to Twins, no less—was something she was totally fine with. Of course they wouldn’t commit to her—nor she to them. Mari didn’t ask for that. Besides, she’d always known that she had to make her own way in life. So why not have a little fun while she could?