For Whom The Bell Tolls

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For Whom The Bell Tolls Page 4

by Michael Todd


  Stephanie laughed. “I can’t even imagine, but it sounds like me and this bitch would get along fantastically.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” Korbin lifted his glass of red wine and took a sip.

  She put her glass on the tablecloth and leaned her head back to look at the bright stars overhead. They were far enough from Vegas that the night sky was absolutely amazing. She could see the Milky Way, all the constellations, and even some small planets in the distance. The breeze blew lightly over them, but wasn’t cold enough to cause a chill.

  “Isn’t it gorgeous out here?” Stephanie cooed.

  “It is.” Korbin loved to watch her when she was relaxed. It was like nothing in the world could bring her down.

  “I could just see it…you and me, some little house far enough from civilization to have stars like this every night but close enough to go to a bar or a show, just relaxing on our front porch.”

  “The dog asleep at my feet, your hand in mine...”

  “The smell of lavender and roses from the garden wafting over us. Not a care in the world; completely oblivious to all this crazy shit.”

  Korbin took a sip of his wine. “It would be amazing.”

  “Oh!” Stephanie sat up in her chair. “And we could have a big fence around the yard, and maybe a pool for skinny-dipping.”

  Korbin laughed. “But no one to bother us.”

  “That’s right. We could laugh our asses off at anything we wanted, cry when we felt sad, and go for a run because we wanted to, not because we were trying to get away from something.”

  “We could play music through the open windows and dance barefoot in the grass, drinking wine straight out of the bottle.”

  Stephanie lifted her glass and laughed. “Sir, I like the way you think.”

  “When winter came, we could start a fire in the fireplace and curl up and listen to Christmas songs, covered with a fuzzy blanket...”

  “We could make love any time we wanted, hold hands whenever, and just be happy.”

  “That would be the life, wouldn’t it?” Korbin stared at her, feeling pain in his chest because those were all dreams. He didn’t want to say it, though. He wanted to give her that moment; that hopeful second to let her experience it all in her mind.

  Stephanie took another deep breath and opened her eyes. She reached across the tablecloth and took his hand, seeing the pain on his face even though he was trying to hide it.

  She wasn’t a fairytale kind of girl, but when it came to Korbin she wanted to leave their past behind and just be there as a couple. Enjoying life, not worried about the next call or the next demon.

  “Does it make me selfish to want that life more than the one where we help humanity?”

  Korbin smiled. “Yeah, but that doesn’t make it wrong. You are only human—”

  “Half!” Stephanie pointed out.

  “Yes, but the part that matters the most—that feels and dreams—is the human part. That is the part that is allowed to be selfish.”

  “Isn’t that the only part that really matters?”

  “Yeah, which means you should never feel bad about wanting those things.”

  “Who knows?” She sighed, putting her hands in her lap and looking around the complex. “Maybe one day we will be able to have those things. We might be too old to enjoy them, and we might be racing each other in motorized wheelchairs, but maybe we will see it in our lifetime.”

  “Those things are the dreams that keep me focused and fighting,” Korbin admitted. “I think it’s always been one of my motivations in this fight, but I didn’t realize it until you came into my life. Thank you for that—for giving me yet another beautiful reason to keep on fighting. Every day I survive is another day closer to that perfect life. If not for me, then for the rest of humanity, and maybe even some people I know.”

  “It will be you.” Stephanie nodded. “I feel it in my gut.”

  “You do?” Korbin chuckled and stood up, then reached down. “I think we should dance to that.”

  Stephanie puckered her lips, the corners of her mouth folding into a grin as she took his hand and let him pull her close. There was no music, but they didn’t need it. The sound of breeze, the rustling of the sand, and the sparkling of the stars was the perfect orchestra for them. Korbin put one arm around her waist and held her hand close to his chest. He stared down into her eyes and she stared back, shaking her head in disbelief at how she had even gotten to where she was.

  Korbin leaned down and kissed Stephanie’s lips softly before bending his knees and picking her up, her hand still in his. She laughed as he whirled her around the impromptu dancefloor with their foreheads pressed together.

  “I want you to do something for me,” Korbin began, looking into her eyes.

  “What’s that?”

  “If anything should ever happen to me...”

  “No.” She shook her head.

  “Listen, if anything should happen, I want you to go. Get out of here and find that house with that garden and live your life. Don’t stay and fight to the death after I am gone. The best tribute to my life would be for you to have one. A beautiful one with roses and lavender...”

  “And a dog at my feet.”

  “Yep, a dog right there at your feet. Will you promise me that?”

  Stephanie sighed and leaned into him.

  “I promise.”

  5

  Brock rolled up his sleeves and bent over to lift a heavy piece of wood into the back of his mother’s truck. He should have known better than to think he would come home and not be put to work in one way or another.

  He knew it was good for him, and with all the girls randomly snapping photos as they walked by it would be good for his persona too. They wouldn’t think that he had gotten too big for his britches, even though he knew he had. He didn’t care in the least.

  “You need some help with that, man?” A tall, muscular guy with messy brown hair offered, picking up the other end of the wooden beam.

  “Thanks, man,” Brock told him. “Gotta make Mom happy.”

  “That’s the only way,” the guy responded. He had perfect dimples and a perfect smile. His teeth glistened like a toothpaste commercial, and something tingled deep inside Brock. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but when his palms began to sweat he did.

  Brock shook his head, realizing he had been staring a bit too long as they lifted the rest of the wood into the truck. He shook the guy’s hand. “Brock.”

  “Erin,” he responded. “You’re the local superstar, right?”

  “I guess you could say that.” He chuckled, feeling his cheeks burn. “Just on vacation back home before we go on tour again. The road can get kind of crazy, so I wanted to check on the family and get back to my roots for a little while.”

  “Right.” Erin nodded, noticing Brock was avoiding eye contact. “Well, if you need any more help let me know. I work just up the street and can always use a break.”

  “Will do. Thanks again.”

  Erin walked off and Brock leaned against the truck, his eyes glued to the guy’s ass. It was perfect, as if he did squats at least once a day.

  Suddenly he jumped, rubbed his hands over his face, and growled. He kicked a tire and grabbed his keys, getting into in the truck and laying his head down on the steering wheel. He slapped his hands against the side of his head.

  “Get it together, motherfucker! That dude has a dick. You like girls, remember?”

  Oh, relax, his succubus purred, her voice was soft. He isn’t your type anyway.

  Brock grunted. Boys aren’t my type in general.

  For now. The real reason is that he’s too small; didn’t even fill him out. Though I have to say those were some sweet lips. I bet he could use that mouth to compensate.

  Ugh. Brock pulled his hands through his hair and started the truck, turning the radio up to drown out the voice in his head. Stop, okay? Just let me get this shit done without making me want to fucking throw up all over the
place.

  So emotional! And they say women are the dramatic ones.

  Brock drove back to his mom’s house, which was right outside of town. It was an old two-story farmhouse with a wraparound porch that needed some love. He had gone to buy support beams and some new wood for the floor, thinking the drive would clear his mind.

  The demon was too much for him. Too much stress, too much drama, and waaayyy too much man-loving.

  Of course, any man-loving to Brock was too much.

  He was a womanizer—always had been—and having a succubus inside him was damned confusing. He had never had a thought about a man in his whole life, even during some of his crazy nights with all kinds of naked bodies writhing around him.

  He liked women, period fucking dot. In fact, lots and lots of fucking and dots.

  And this damned demon was trying to change him.

  When he got out of the truck his mom was standing on the porch wiping her hands on her apron and smiling. He climbed the stairs and kissed her on the cheek, trying to hide the turmoil that was bubbling inside.

  “Sweetie, I need a favor.”

  “What’s up, Momma?”

  “Joann, who owns that little bar on the edge of town—she really needs a boost and her live music called sick tonight. I was wondering if you wouldn’t play a set with the house band; stir up some of the locals to spend some money and help her out?”

  Hot men! Woohoo!

  Brock ignored the demon and smiled as he rubbed his mom’s back gently. “Of course I will, Momma. No problem.”

  “You are the best.” She smiled back and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll go call her and let her know.”

  His mother ran back into the house, and he caught the smell of dinner cooking on the stove as the door closed behind her. Brock sighed and sat down on the porch swing, then rocked back and forth. He had spent many nights in that porch swing, staring at the open fields and wondering if he would ever get out of that town. But after so many months on the road, it was nice to be home.

  The only thing he couldn’t seem to run from was the voice constantly chattering in his head.

  It’s been too long. I need one really sexy, hot man to just throw me down and go crazy.

  You are driving me fucking nuts. Is that all you think about? Sex, sex, and more sex?

  Pfft. You’re one to talk.

  Brock paused, stopping the swing and thinking about it for a moment.

  His succubus had a point. He was being a bit of a hypocrite.

  He had spent the last nine months with three women a night every night he could and twice a night one time, fulfilling his every desire. He thought about sex before his shows and during his shows, and even about how much sex he could get later after he was done having sex.

  Yes, but, he yelled in his head. I’m a guy! Look up guys in the dictionary and you’ll find a picture of a horny male. That’s just how we’re built. We’re supposed to chase tail and think about sex all the time.

  I think you underestimate the female mind, the succubus giggled. What do you think those groupies are thinking while they are standing to the side of the stage applying their fourth layer of lip gloss, hiking up their skirts, and counting the condoms in their purses? Puppies? No. Dick, that’s what they are thinking about.

  Brock shook his head and leaned back on the swing, realizing that there was a bit of a double standard going on—and he was the one perpetrating it. For some reason he couldn’t understand why it was okay for him to be a slut, to think about getting some all the time, talk about it, and do it even, but he was upset because his succubus couldn’t get past it.

  She was really the same as him, only with a different sexual preference.

  His eyes opened wide when he realized he’d not only had met the female version of himself, but she was literally inside his body, pushing desires on him and acting just like he did on a normal basis.

  Every day he woke up thinking about sex, only the thoughts were about being with men—and he could tell from his man stuff the demon was messing with his body. There was no way he would get that reaction on his own. Maybe he should have taken his mother’s advice and stayed in town to work at the mill like everyone else, but nooooo—he had to be a rock star!

  He rubbed his eyes. “Talk about fucking karma,” he mumbled.

  Joshua smiled as he looked down at his clipboard, checking off the massive amounts of ammo being pumped out in the manufacturing area they had built. He couldn’t believe they had gotten it together so quickly and were now pretty much working at full capacity. His equation and ideas had worked, and because of Katie and the team, they were a real business. His father would have been proud of him—that he knew for sure.

  Charles and Travis grunted as they picked up the metal ammo containers and stacked them in the back. The boxes were full to the top and bore a black-stamped label designating what type of round they were and letting the troops know they were special and possibly even toxic.

  The team hadn’t come into the factory much since they had started using chemicals that had the ability to cause them excruciating pain.

  The girls had moved from their normal duties into racking and stacking with the guys. The military was not slowing down their orders, so they needed as much help as they could get. Even with the seven guys the general had sent over, there was more than enough work. Overtime had become the norm, and the schedule had shifted to twenty-four-hour days for the military guys. One day on, twelve hours off, six days a week. No one complained though, especially after they were briefed on the situation.

  “How’s it going?”

  Joshua looked at one of the older guys from the general’s group and shook his head. “It’s crazy. I would have never believed we could produce this kind of ammo in such high volumes, and from the tests, it doesn’t look like it’s lost any of its integrity. We originally thought sixty thousand rounds by the end of the week, but it’s looking more like eighty thousand if we keep this up.”

  “That’s good. Telling those boys in the field to only shoot minimal rounds sounds good in theory, but if you have one of those creatures barreling down on you then you’re not taking the time to count out how many times you’ve pulled that trigger. You just want them dead.”

  “Oh, I understand.” Joshua chuckled nervously. “I killed one with a knife once. Would have been nice to have something a little more removed. I definitely wouldn’t have been counting bullets, though.”

  The soldier lifted an eyebrow. “You’ve seen combat?”

  He pointed around the building. “Me and every single one of these girls.” Joshua nodded at the group, who were smiling and talking while they loaded the rounds into their boxes.

  “You’d think that after everything I’ve seen nothing would surprise me anymore. Well, good job. We need more good people like that out here. I never thought I’d face a threat like this when I signed up. Definitely another one on the list of things my recruiter didn’t mention.” He patted Joshua on the shoulder.

  Joshua took a deep breath. He wasn’t quite used to being so close to other people, especially strangers, but he was doing better than he used to.

  He put the pen in the latch on the clipboard and stared across the factory floor. They had created some new weapons that the military had put in an order for to test during their next big mission. That area was completely off limits to any of the Damned, since it was highly dangerous to them.

  “When will we send out the next shipment?”

  Joshua shook his away thoughts and looked down at the clipboard. “It looks like we will have a shipment ready to air-ship out of here tomorrow. The military is keeping us busy; ordered a shit-ton of metal from us. We’ll probably continue producing and shipping like this until the war is over or until we come up with something even bigger and more badass, which happens on the regular around here.”

  “Yeah? Next thing I know you’ll be producing warheads.”

  “If we could bomb hell, you know we woul
d.” Joshua laughed, setting down his clipboard and looking at the guy. “Come with me and I’ll show you some of the new stuff.” Joshua stopped and turned back to the soldier. “You’re not Damned, are you?”

  He chuckled. “Me? No. Though it doesn’t seem like that bad a choice when I watch your friends out there kicking ass.”

  Joshua shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’m good not sharing my body with anything.”

  Joshua walked the contact to the restricted area of the floor, which was where all the new products were made. It was the most volatile, and at high risk for spillage. Joshua grabbed two pairs of metalworking gloves and handed a pair to the soldier before pulling his on.

  “You can never be too cautious,” Joshua told him

  “What’s all this?” the military liaison asked, pulling on his gloves.

  “The general was looking for big guns, the stuff that would do some serious damage to the demons and make for fewer casualties among his troops. We started to do some research, looking into what weapons existed and how we could modify them.”

  Joshua picked up one of their 30mm fragmentation rounds. “This sucker is made of the metals, and inside is not only an explosive, but it launches slivers of this outward. You could shoot one of these into a crowd of demons or one big-ass motherfucker and it would send little ones through his whole body.”

  “Damn.”

  Joshua picked up a teargas round. “This looks like a normal teargas round, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s not. We ground the special metal to dust and put it in the teargas round. The human hosts are affected by the tear gas and it disables the physical body, while the metal dust gets into the demon through the lungs. You are taking down two with one shot, and it’s not lethal in small doses—so if we want to capture some of them for testing we can. Otherwise, we are disabling them enough to get in and take them out.”

  “Shit, that’s brilliant!”

 

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