Wasteland Treasure

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Wasteland Treasure Page 12

by Eve Langlais


  “How high does it usually go?” he asked.

  “That’s just it. I don’t know. Five years I’ve been here, and I’ve never seen it rise above the banks before.”

  “And you said it never rains.”

  She shook her head, caught herself, and said, “No.”

  “But this place is so damp,” he mused aloud.

  “Meaning?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just odd. Speaking of damp, do you see any footprints in the ground? The heavy suits usually leave an impression.”

  She shook her head before replying. “Nothing. We’re probably worrying about nothing.”

  A feeling that grew as they actually did come across some strewn debris. Parts of them the remains of Centurion suits, the torn and bloody marks on them leaving no doubt as to the fate of their owner.

  The trip to the mouth of the river took the rest of that morning. It was a full day’s trek moving from one end of the valley to the other.

  “We’re here,” she shouted as the water emerging from the mountainside gurgled loudly.

  “Tell me about the sword.”

  “I told you, it’s sticking out of the rock.” The winds must have whipped it into the stone because it simply appeared one day a few weeks ago. She eyed the handle, the dull metal thick, leading to a thin blade with the tip embedded in the stone. A frown creased her brow as she noticed water dripping from the sword, a steady stream that appeared to be fed by the crack around it. A pocket of moisture in the rock obviously leaking.

  “Can you put my hand on it? I’d like to touch it.” For some reason, he smiled.

  “You’ll have to lean and try not to fall in.”

  “I won’t fall if you don’t push.”

  Interestingly enough, the thought hadn’t occurred to her until he mentioned it. “I’ll do my best to resist.”

  She took his hand and tugged him closer to the river’s edge, the rigid stone unlikely to sluice off into the water. She leaned across his body and placed their linked hands on the pommel. His other arm curled around her waist and held her.

  “Can you feel it?” she asked, a tad breathlessly.

  “Yes.” A single low syllable.

  She straightened, and yet he didn’t release her; he held her closer. She should demand he unhand her. Instead Sofia started at the squareness of his rugged jaw. She’d seen handsome men in the city. Everyone was attractive in their fashion. However, Gunner had an extra element to his features. They appeared vivid and real. A man who’d lived. A man who felt. A man she desired…

  “I’ve been thinking about our kiss,” he said.

  The comment took her by surprise. “You have?”

  “Can you blame me? That kiss was hot, and I wouldn’t mind a repeat.”

  The very thought baffled her. She touched her cheek, feeling the rigid scar. It wouldn’t go away no matter how many remedies she applied. It remained a reminder of her banishment. He’d never kiss her if he saw it.

  But he couldn’t see it.

  She also remembered the heat of the kiss. Was it just the intimacy and fear of the dark that made it seem so wonderful?

  “You may kiss me.”

  “Thank fuck.” He growled the soft words against her mouth, and this time, in broad daylight, she kept her eyes open.

  She stared at the fabric wrapped around his eyes. He couldn’t see her. It seemed only fair she not see him. She closed her eyes and held her breath as his mouth touched hers.

  Gently. Teasingly.

  It drew halting breaths from her as he slid his lips back and forth.

  As with the last kiss, she tingled all over, and the ache between her legs returned. He kissed her harder, sucking on her lower lip, parting and claiming her mouth in a way that had her panting, heaving for breath, clutching at him, her body trembling and pressing against his.

  He groaned her name, “Sofia,” and pressed her against the rock wall only a pace from the edge that fell into the river. Yet she didn’t ask to move. Not with his frame hard against hers. His mouth hot. His hands roamed her body, igniting her in a way she’d never imagined. Teasing a response that had her aching. Her past experiences never prepared her for this. This was what they meant by passion.

  He slid a hand past the waistband of her trousers and cupped her. Her legs buckled, and she would have slid to the ground if he’d not caught her.

  He held her, and a single finger began to stroke. The intimacy of it shocking. Titillating. Not the pain she expected. No fear to make her tense.

  She panted against his mouth. Small cries escaped her.

  He penetrated her with a finger, his kiss deep, his tongue joining and making her sob with pleasure.

  Her hips quivered, and she felt tight inside. Tight and desperate and…

  Something happened. A strange force possessed her, and she arched, screaming as her body pulsed. So good. It felt so damned good. She radiated with heat and lethargy. She didn’t realize she clung tight to him until he gasped.

  “Fuck me. Oh. Fuck,” he murmured against her mouth as his finger rested inside her pulsing body. His hips were pressed against her, pinning his hand between them.

  He leaned his forehead against hers and breathed hotly. “That was incredible.”

  It was. And a good thing he had a mask, because she doubted she could have hidden how much it shook her. Because she now finally got it. And wanted it again.

  Ten

  Sofia pushed at Gunner, and he moved away. His hand came out of her pants and brought the scent of her with it.

  He might have gotten hard if he hadn’t heard her gasp. “Why are the front of your pants wet?”

  Gunner wanted to sink into the ground. Throw himself in the river. Anything to remove himself from the embarrassment.

  When she’d come, a wave of something slammed out of her. The best word he could say was pleasure. She hit him with her pleasure, and his body immediately orgasmed.

  “Remember the part where I said it was incredible?”

  “But I never even touched you. Don’t you require…I don’t know, some kind of manipulation?”

  His shame grew, and he stammered, “Usually, uh, yeah, um.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. But the feel of you made me lose control.”

  “Me?” She sounded so surprised.

  “Yes, you. This doesn’t usually happen,” he grumbled.

  To which she giggled. “Is this the wrong time to remark we should have brought that cup?”

  He groaned. “This isn’t funny.”

  “Depends on who’s embarrassed, and judging by the expression on your face, that would be you.” Her laughter rang out, and he couldn’t help but smile.

  “I promise I’ll do better next time.”

  “Who says there’ll be a next time?” she sassed.

  There would be a next time if he had anything to say about it.

  “So did you want to try and yank on the sword now?” she asked.

  “I might need a few minutes to recover before we start yanking on it.”

  It took her a moment. But she finally gasped. “I didn’t mean that sword.”

  “Probably best you don’t touch me yet, or we’ll never get anything done.”

  “You need to be serious.” She sounded flustered. “Give me your hand, and I’ll place it on the shaft.”

  His mind went to a dirty place, but he remained quiet. Mostly because he didn’t want to tease her too much. The very fact she’d trusted him enough to kiss and fondle her was amazing. He’d still have to be careful. Her upbringing and experiences made her skittish.

  Her fingers tugged at his. Gunner leaned to the side, anchoring her close with an arm.

  She made a satisfying sound that had a tiny moan in it.

  “Do you have it?” she asked, wrapping his hand around the hilt.

  “I’ve got it.” And he didn’t just mean the sword. “Step away just in case it comes too fast. I don’t want to knock you out by accident.”

  �
�What if you lose your balance?”

  “I can swim.”

  He felt the loss of her body the moment she slipped to the side. His fingers tested the grip of the sword, feeling the ridges. The thickness just right. He gave it a slight wiggle. Up and down, side to side.

  Not much give.

  He tried a tug. It didn’t budge a bit.

  “Told you it was stuck.”

  “I’ll get it out.” Mostly just because it felt like a challenge. He began wobbling it again, up and down, a little side to side, felt it loosen.

  Quiet up until now, Kitty growled, a distinct rumble over that of water rushing past.

  “What’s wrong?” Sofia asked.

  “Take cover,” he advised.

  “I’m not taking cover. Someone has to check out whatever is agitating her, meaning me. I’ll go, while you work on the sword.”

  “What if it’s another soldier?”

  “I’ll aim for the joints,” she riposted.

  But he didn’t find the situation amusing at all. What if another enemy roamed the woods? What if Sofia needed him?

  In that case, he’d need a weapon.

  He wiggled the sword. It had a little give to it now. It wouldn’t be long surely before it came free and he had a few feet of steel to swing around.

  Over the rushing of water, he heard the crunch of gravel. Doubted it was the cat. Kitty had a way of walking silent, and his instincts told him it wasn’t Sofia.

  “Well, well,” said a voice without the benefit of the comm speaker in a helm. “Looks like we’re not alone here after all.”

  The use of “we” was worrisome. Where had Sofia gone?

  His fingers tightened on the hilt. It didn’t budge.

  The soldier chuckled. “Thanks for making this easy.”

  Acting on instinct, Gunner released the sword and ducked to the ground while, at the same time, sweeping a foot. That only managed to bruise him given the robot armor added weight and stability.

  “Fucker.” He didn’t entirely miss the fist that came swinging, the edge of metal knuckles snapping his head sideways.

  Gunner shook it off and popped to his feet, arms up in defense. But he couldn’t stop the staggering blows. The soldier might have lost his helmet by the sounds of it, but he’d kept on the rest of the suit.

  His body was bruised with each hammer punch, but Gunner grunted and rolled with the pain, using all his other senses to try to keep up a defense. Hoping to get a chance. Until the blow that knocked him to the ground.

  His ears rang. His head spun. His body refused to get up.

  Through the rushing in his ears, he heard Sofia yell, “Leave him alone.”

  “Or what? Better be nice to me or I’ll kill your friend. Get on your knees. Hands behind your head.”

  “You heard Opie. On your knees, woman.” The second voice brought a chill.

  Two soldiers.

  A roar showed Kitty had joined the party. The rat-tat-tat and the shriek of pain followed by Sofia’s scream made his blood run cold.

  “Kitty,” Sofia sobbed.

  Please let the furball only be injured. He’d gotten attached in the short time and would hate it if Kitty died.

  “Strip her and turn her over. I don’t want to see her face when I’m inside her.” The crudeness came from the one who’d felled Gunner, the one called Opie.

  Opie’s friend wasn’t happy about the plan. “How come you get to go first again?”

  “Because I’m higher ranked than you.”

  “Like fuck.”

  While the soldiers argued, Sofia sobbed, a wrenching sound that tore at him. He had to help her. He pushed to his knees, his fingers sliding over the rock and off the edge of it. It helped orient him.

  Feeling with his other hand showed the location of the wall, the very same one he’d just had Sofia pressed against while he made her come. It burned that someone threatened her while he lay useless on the ground.

  If there was ever a time he needed good luck, it was now. He rose to his feet and leaned, reaching for the sword, grasping it and heaving it free with a mighty groan.

  Screech.

  Apparently, there was a sound when a sword freed itself from stone. A jarring noise that drew attention.

  “Looks like the blind bastard wants another beating. Tell you what, you go first and warm the slut up for me. I’ll take my turn right after I kill her friend.” The soldier spoke his last words while giving Gunner a direction.

  “Aren’t you a big man, attacking a defenseless woman and a blind man,” he taunted.

  Clomp. Clomp. The noise of the soldier gave his position away. Gunner feinted the blade toward the man, knowing he’d raise an arm to deflect it. Standard defense tactics. Only Gunner didn’t follow through but instead dropped and slid the blade between the man’s legs before ramming up at a soft part of the armor.

  The scream proved strident and short as he finished the job and tipped the soldier in the direction of the river.

  Then he listened. Heard nothing but grunts.

  He was too late. “Sofia!” he yelled, striding toward the sounds, only to hear her scream, “Don’t swing; it’s me!”

  He froze, sword raised. “Sofia? Are you okay? Where’s the other soldier?”

  “Dead.”

  She didn’t say how as she threw herself at him and sniffled against his chest. “He never thought to check me for a knife.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No. But that jerk shot Kitty.”

  “We’ll find Kitty and fix her. Are you sure you’re okay?” He wanted to say so many things, starting with an apology. He’d been so intent on pleasuring her that he’d let his guard down. This was his fault.

  “Just bruised. I attacked the soldier while he was in the midst of taking off his armor. I stabbed him in the neck.”

  “Good.” He stroked her back. “Did you spot signs of more?”

  She shook her head against him. “Not living ones. I did see some robot suit pieces in the woods, though. They still had body parts in them.”

  “Here’s to hoping the rest are all dead.”

  “If not, you have a sword.”

  “I do.” Despite not being able to see it, he lifted it.

  “I think you broke the rock it was in. It’s got all kind of cracks now, and they’re weeping water even worse than before,” she noted before yelling, “I see Kitty!”

  She moved from him, and he heard her fussing over her pet, which was enough to bring him slowly toward her.

  “Do I need to carry Kitty to the house?” he asked.

  Sofia snorted. “Do you want her to bite off your head? Her wound must not be too bad. She’s moving on her own.”

  “And you’re sure you’re okay to walk?” he asked.

  “I told you, I’m fine. It’s—”

  The rumble wasn’t just a sound but also a sensation that evolved into a loud cracking and many splashes. When it was done, the river noise had increased ten times.

  “What happened?” he yelled, getting the sense this wasn’t good.

  “The rock the sword was in broke, and now there’s a torrent of water coming in. It’s making the river rise.”

  “Let’s get to higher ground. It will probably taper off once whatever reservoir was behind it empties,” he suggested, extending his hand.

  She gripped his fingers, and while she tugged him, he also got the sense she peered back often. He wished he could peek, too. The river roared as it rushed past.

  “Can you tell if the flow is abating?” Assuming she could still see the start of it.

  “No. The hole has gotten bigger, and the shoreline is almost gone. We need to hurry.” She broke into a run, and he did his best to follow, but she didn’t have a smooth gait like the cat.

  He released her. “Go ahead and pack a bag. Two if you have enough supplies.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if the water keeps rising, then we’ll want to be on the highest ground.”


  “Oh. But you said it would stop.”

  “I don’t know if it will. We should be prepared.” He heard her steps scrambling from him, and the cat took her place, the sleek fur under his palm familiar and welcome. He felt the hitch in her stride. “Hold on, Kitty. Once we get to safety, we’ll get Sofia to try some of her healing on it.” If they survived the next few hours.

  He had a bad feeling about the situation.

  Eleven

  Something bad was about to happen, and she had no one to blame but herself as she ran in a state of panic for her house. She was the one who’d led Gunner to the sword in the stone. If he’d left it wedged, the river wouldn’t be rising so rapidly. Then again, if he’d not grabbed that sword, they’d probably both be dead.

  The reminder pressed her lips into a tight line. She was getting mighty tired of being treated as if her wishes didn’t matter. Gunner was the only one who never treated her that way. He might tease her, but he didn’t command her. He did, however, please her.

  She made it to her house and went around the side looking for the sliver of shadow that marked the spot. Inside a tiny little passage hid her real treasure store, containing one makeshift bag filled with emergency items. Dried food, herbs, clothes. She quickly fabricated a second sack using a sheet to tuck in spare shoes that didn’t fit well, more clothes, and an empty flask that would need filling.

  As she emerged with her two bags, Kitty came into view, guiding Gunner.

  “The water is still rising,” he announced as if he knew she stood there.

  “How can you tell?”

  “Because there were four fewer steps coming up. Now please tell me we can go higher than the cliff I tossed that body off of.”

  “You think the water will flood the house?”

  “I think it’s a distinct possibility. Depending on how much of it needs to exit to equalize, that water could rise much further.”

  “We can move to a higher elevation than the cliff, but it will require climbing.” Which wasn’t the easiest thing for someone raised in a city to learn. She’d torn her hands open and scraped herself quite a bit teaching herself how to survive.

  “Do you have any rope?”

 

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