EARTH'S LAST WAR (CHILDREN OF DESTINY Book 1)

by Glenn Van Dyke

  The glossy, black pod took a tiny skip off the sand before settling back to the ground, sliding sixty meters to a smooth stop, listing to its port side.

  The two of them rose and as if they had done this a hundred times before, Steven and Ashlyn checked the gages. “104 degrees, 4 percent humidity, wind at 18 knots,” said Steven.

  “Ready or not!” Ashlyn hit the open-hatch button. The sweltering heat outside swallowed the cool air inside the pod in one quick gulp. “Smells sweet, like grape jam.” Staring outside, he noted a faint pink tint to the sky.

  Steven and Ashlyn, having verified the status of their weapons, each grabbed one of the emergency packs stowed beneath their seat. Ash quickly redistributed the E-packs items into her own personal, larger pack.

  Steven jumped first, taking a quick survey of the area. He then turned to help Phillip down.

  Ashlyn came next, and with a leap into his arms, he caught her about the waist.

  The heels of his shoes sank deep into the sand. Off balance, he fell backwards, taking Ashlyn with him.

  Landing atop Steven, Ashlyn teased, “Not the most graceful rescue of a damsel, but I guess I should be grateful that your saber wasn’t drawn, or you might have run me through.” Ashlyn arched her back so that it pressed her pelvis hard into him.

  A tremor of induced passion ran down Steven's spine.

  “Dad, I can hear everyone. They’re over here!” said Phillip as he scampered up and over a dune to join the others.

  Ashlyn gave Steven one last flirtatious grind with her pelvis as she rose from atop him.

  Reaching the dune’s crest, Steven studied the area. The pods were loosely strewn over a square kilometer of gullies and dunes, and the crew was slowly gathering on its southern edge.

  Steven looked up at the sky.

  “You thinking about Avenger?”

  Steven nodded. “She was a good ship.” His eyes watered.

  “It doesn’t mean you won’t see them again,” said Ash softly, knowing that he was in mourning for his wife and daughter.

  Steven squeezed her hand.

  From the landing area below, “Admiral, the beacon’s signal is coming from that direction,” shouted Chief Preston, pointing to the south.

  While waiting for the last of the stragglers to join the group, Steven listened to the array of discussions and complaints about the pink-cast sky, the heat from the binary suns, being stranded and everything else in between before he let go with a loud whistle. “All right everyone, listen up. Our destination is two kilometers south of here. Keep a tight formation and a steady pace. We need to get to cover as quickly as possible. Commander Novacek, you have the lead.”

  Novacek tousled Phillip’s hair. “D-did you have a g-good ride?”

  “That reminds me!” Running off, out of sight from the crew, Phillip ducked behind one of the pods.

  “I told him to go before he left home.”

  Novacek looked at Steven, smiled and walked off laughing.

  The suns, though low in the sky, bore down on them with an intense ferocity, as did the driving wind. Factor in the soft sand, the heavy packs, weapons, bundled supplies and personal items, it made each step strenuously torturous. Steven pushed the pace, fearing they could be attacked while out in the open.

  Using the time while walking to think, Steven began to put the pieces together of what he had learned in the files provided by President Tomlinson. It was easy to imagine that this world had once been a vital and flourishing planet similar to Earth, with amazing technological cities built by the Anunnaki; now just ancient, abandoned reminders of what had once been—echoed in the aftermath of a destroyed world.

  One kilometer into the trek, as Steven stood atop a dune scanning the forested area ahead with his binoculars, a shrill scream of mortal terror shattered the desiccated air behind him. Dropping his pack, Steven turned and ran to where the scream had come from. Breaking through the crowd, he arrived just in time to see a hand tear from a rescuer’s grasp and slip beneath the sand. The victim’s strained, crimped fingers clearly conveying the shock, terror and pain of a brutal death. The churning sand came to an abrupt stop, almost as if it were denying the incident had ever happened.

  The human-chain of rescuers rose in near panic, wide eyes searching the ground. Their actions and the calm rational words from one of the crew sent a chill down Steven’s spine. “It was a spider, Admiral. Just like the ones on Earth. It came from under the sand.”

  “Stratton, spread out the security team, heaviest concentration to the rear. Have them guard those who are lagging behind.”

  Addressing the crew, “Everyone push hard for the mountain. Don’t stop in one spot—keep moving, your lives may depend on it!” With Ashlyn at his side, Steven grabbed Phillip’s hand.

  Forty minutes later, Steven having assisted the last of the crew safely into the forest, realized how much they looked like shipwrecked survivors. Their faces were knotted, twisted into grotesque caricatures of their former selves, their legs trembling from the strenuous trek—their chests gasping for air due to the light atmosphere.

  Seeing them, Steven recalled a quote from a novel about a shipwrecked crew that he had read years before, “The crew’s anguished sighs were like curses unto the hostile world to which they’d been cast—and in irreverent song did the wind whistling through the branches above them bid welcome.”

  Seeing Phillip helping Ashlyn, who was dispensing water to the crew, He is so much like you, Renee. So much like you.

  Ashlyn turned toward Steven and sitting beside him, she gave him a half-bottle of water.

  To Steven, she was like a breath of fresh, mountain air on a sunny, winter morning. Her sight renewed his soul, invigorating him on a deeply, molecular level. He marveled at the chemistry that was at work between them.

  Briggs, one crutch under his left arm, hobbled over to Ashlyn. “Ashlyn, I want to thank you for hauling my butt out of the frying pan up there! The guys told me what you did. I don’t want to know how you got me into your fighter—the thought of being in space with no suit scares the hell out of me. I owe you.”

  “That’s what scares you? The man who strafed a destroyer all by himself!” They both laughed. “How are you feeling anyway?”

  “Fantastic, considering the alternative. A couple of broken ribs, concussion and a twisted ankle. We ever get off this rock; I’ll be ready to fly again.”

  “You’re a good pilot, Briggs. I hope we get that chance.” Ashlyn stood and gave him a hug. Briggs squirmed uncomfortably, straining to force his eyes away from her wobbling breasts and visible nipples thru her sheer-cotton blouse.

  With an unreturned nod to the Admiral, Briggs walked away, leaving Ashlyn staring at Steven. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not sure. Something doesn’t feel right.” It was a feeling he couldn’t put into words. Rising, Steven called out, rousing the crew to stand. “Novacek, take the crew up into the rocks, on the mountain.”

  “Everything all right?” said Novacek.

  “Just a feeling. I’d rather be safe, than sorry,” said Steven.

  Forty minutes later, the crew spread out round the boulders at the base of the mountain, Steven surveyed the surroundings. He plotted the movements the enemy would likely make, should they attack. The natural abutments would provide good defensive positioning if the enemy were to attack from the ground with conventional weapons.

  Stratton approached, “Admiral, per your orders, we’ve placed two of our class 3 snipers atop the mountain. Each has a Titan rifle. And as you instructed, eighteen teams of two have been placed around the base of the mountain.

  Tomlinson’s team has gathered the crew’s rations and is working out a schedule for distribution.”

  “Good job, Stratt. Have the first watch relieved in four hours, thereafter every six. Any news on the beacon’s reported water source yet?”

  “Nothing yet, sir, but we’ll find it.”

  Thirty minutes later, while strolling throug
h the makeshift camp, giving encouraging words to boost morale, Steven found Phillip hanging upside down from a tree eating M&M’s.

  “I haven’t seen those in years! Where did you get them?”

  “Ashlyn gave them to me,” he said, flipping to the ground. “Want some? They’re really good.”

  “Ashlyn had M&M’s?” He took a few from Phillip. “Okay, those are really good.” Realizing that he hadn’t seen Ash recently, “Do you know where she is now?”

  “She said she was going for a walk.”

  “A walk? Did you see which way she went?”

  “Yup,” Phillip pointed, “that way!”

  Leaving Phillip in Novacek’s care, Steven headed off in the direction Phillip had pointed. Several minutes later with not a single misstep in the wrong direction, he found her at the forest’s edge, where it met the desert.

  With an inspiring backdrop of gracefully, sweeping desert sand, he found Ashlyn sitting barefoot, atop a rock that had been polished by the driving winds until it glistened like glass.

  He realized that Ashlyn had been right. Her hair had been short when he had seen her in the vision of this moment, on the podium. She was also right; in that, it was her breasts that he was staring at. The twin suns backlit her breasts with near perfect clarity through her shear cotton-blouse, his eyes tracing the outlines of her heavy underswells. They begged to be held.

  Ashlyn was the embodiment of sensuality. She was a red rose growing out of granite, amber rays of sunlight doing obeisance to her. Her eyes were closed, her face soaking in the last, radiating warmth of the setting suns.

  Steven looked up as the branches above him rustled and a faint, passing breeze sent a sprinkling of purple leaves teetering to the ground around him.

  “Hello Pinocchio!”

  His eyes lowered to see that she was watching him, her gaze staring at the bulge of his aroused shaft.

  Barefoot, Ashlyn rose, desire basting her lips like glistening honey. With each step she took toward him, she unfastened a button of her blouse. As if it were accommodating his wishful thoughts, a soothing, warm gust of wind swept the sides of her blouse behind her, letting him behold her.

  Unsnapping the button of her blue jeans, she wriggled out of them, doing the same to her lace panties a moment later.

  It took Steven only seconds to slip off his unbuttoned, blue military over-shirt, and raise the black polo beneath, over his head, removing it. Having kicked off his shoes, he went for the snap of his pants, but Ashlyn shook her head, no.

  Pushing him a step backward, so that his back was against the smooth trunk of a large tree, Ashlyn stood before him, his bare chest fueling the flames of her passion.

  Unsnapping the button of his pants, Ashlyn’s nipples ever so slightly brushing against his chest, her hand slowly slid his zipper down. She could feel his hardness beneath. It entranced her.

  Embracing, their lips met in a passionate kiss.

  Ashlyn, seeing his thoughts and hopeful expectations began a slow descent down his chest, leaving a sensual trail of tender kisses. Settling her knees into the soft bed of purple leaves, she lowered his pants and boxers, “You’ve been telling lies, Pinocchio—lots and lots of lies!”

  Ok, I’m impressed—really impressed. Ashlyn knew his extra-heavy engorgement was due to how badly he had wanted her to do this to him.

  Ashlyn too, had been in desirous anticipation of this moment.

  Lowering him to her lips, she kissed the tip of his shaft then began circling round it. Her stabbing tongue moistened him, licked him. Intermixed with kisses, her wiggling tongue found his sensitive spot on the underside of the tip of his shaft. She tormented him with endless tickles that raced up and down his spine.

  As his passions released a small taste of him to her, a craving for more, unexpectedly exploded inside her. Her lips surrounded the tip of his shaft, rotating round him, searching for more of the honeysuckle like sweetness—her fingers gently began stroking the hanging boys, coaxing him to release more.

  Steven’s shaft throbbed in response, his hips involuntarily canting toward her gentle strokes—his body was begging her for more intensity, he wanted her be rough and powerful with them. He wanted to feel her passion and desire for them.

  With spread lips, her wagging tongue moistening him, she kissed her way down the length of his cock. Holding him erect, her tongue found his balls. Playfully, she kissed them, lapped them. Her lips began a game of catch and release, sucking on first one, and then the other.

  Steven gasped, as she sucked both of them fully inside her mouth, locking them behind her teeth. Groan after groan escaped him as outwardly, she tugged them—while inwardly, her quivering tongue toyed with them.

  He shook raggedly as she began sucking them, hard—her throat and tongue muscles crushing them against her palate with each attempt to swallow.

  Steven was pulsing furiously, each throb engorging him yet more.

  Ashlyn was ablaze, she had not thought it possible that his large cock could get any bigger, and yet, under her control, she had watched him growing. Her hand could feel each throbbing pulse making him harder, bigger. Her fingers had lost control of him—not even close to encircling him.

  Steven’s body was shaking, trembling, the pain of his engorgement extreme.

  Seeing his readiness, Ashlyn’s hand began sliding faster up and down his length.

  Within moments, her mouth sucking his balls hard, Ashlyn’s hand sliding furiously fast up and down his slippery cock, she felt his orgasm starting to surge.

  Suddenly, Steven’s perceptions slowed. What was about to happen in a matter of seconds, he could now focus on as if each emotion and movement were an individual event. It was wondrous.

  On the brink of climatic ecstasy—he felt Ashlyn’s mouth release his balls, and in one quick motion, she went entirely down, swallowing his cock.

  Oh my god! How—how did she swallow it? It’s so tight—so incredibly tight. So—amazingly soft!

  He looked down in awe, seeing himself seated fully inside her throat, her nose flattened against his abdomen, her chin pressed firmly against his balls.

  Her throat is so soft—so hot! It feels so good!

  Steven took an inhaling gasp as Ashlyn’s specialized muscles began to work their magic upon him. In perfect timing to his first release inside her—her muscles began extricating his seed, drawing it out of him in explosive bursting pulses that were harder and quicker than he thought possible. She was literally sucking his seed from him, giving him an endless orgasm.

  The vibrating tip of her tongue added to the seduction, tickling the top of his sack that was lying atop her lower lip, coaxing the seed from him. It was as much for his pleasure as it was to satisfy her own craving. She now felt an unquenchable thirst, a thirst that was now a need.

  Ash continued until his trembling, ravaged body could take no more.

  Only then did she allow herself to focus on having her own orgasm. Rising, she threw her arms around his neck.

  Steven wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground.

  Wrapping her legs round his hips, she was ready for him to take her. Bowing backwards away from him, her arms stretched straight, a firm grasp upon his forearms—she assumed a position of total and complete surrender to him. She lay in his arms, her breasts pointed at the sky.

  He thrust himself into her rapaciously, selfishly, greedily. Yet, for Ashlyn, it was what she desired. It was what she hungered for. It was what her soul craved.

  Ashlyn’s soft screams were endless, and her orgasm was as endless as her screams. He thrust furiously, endlessly, letting her feel safe in the depth of her lust.

  Ashlyn’s shrill sighs filled the air as he exploded hard, again and again inside her.

  Lying upon the ground, coddled in each-other’s arms, they fought to gather their breath, “Someday, I’ll unleash everything on you.”

  “There’s more? Seriously?”

  “Yup, but unless you’re ready
for it, you’d pass out,” teased Ashlyn through a sexy smile.

  Chapter 13

  As they arrived back in camp, Stratton spotted them and approached. “Admiral, I was getting worried. I wanted to send out a search party, but Novacek said not to.”

  “Why were you so worried?” asked Steven.

  “You were gone three hours,” said Stratton, glancing first at Ashlyn then over to Steven.

  Novacek overhearing their conversation as he walked up, Phillip at his side. “See Stratt, told you not to worry.” Turning to Steven, “How did the training go?”

  Steven read Novacek like a book, grateful he was covering for him.

  “Great. Ashlyn asked me to go over the basic rules of engagement. So I showed her what to do when facing an enemy of superior size; how much force to apply to generate the proper response; how to use the terrain to advantage; when to retreat, when to attack and how to interrogate a prisoner.”

  “Do you remember the lesson to the latter, Ash?”

  “Yes, sir. First, isolation, which often requires putting the prisoner into a dark area of confinement, making him more submissive to interrogation, where at that point I am authorized to use any force I deem necessary to extract the desired information. The end result being to make the prisoner open to suggestion so that he will do anything I tell him to,” answered Ashlyn. “It didn’t work on my prisoner though. The poor little fellow fainted; just flopped right over—couldn’t get up.”

  “Aren’t you the clever girl.” “Yeah, well it was your first time. You’ll get better,” said Steven.

  “I’ll get better?” Ashlyn parroted silently to Steven, giving him a playfully indignant stare.

  “I see,” said Novacek, smiling. “Perhaps next time I should train you. Extracting information from a prisoner is easy—it’s a head game. You need to get inside his head—find his weak spot and play with it. He’ll sing like a canary.” Novacek threw Steven and Ashlyn a wink, knowing they wouldn’t be offended.