Marcus lifted his shoulders carelessly. He didn’t understand the gesture but read the expression on the male’s face clearly. Callous disinterest.
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say mates.” He laughed with a contemptuous glance at Meg, who shrank before him. The sound was echoed by the other male, Dale, standing just behind him. “More like a pleasant diversion.”
“We do have a few who are pregnant,” Dale said with a chuckle.
“Unfortunately, not everyone in the camp is good at following directions,” Marcus agreed with a sigh. “The bottom line is that we need enough women to keep the boys from trying to kill each other. Not enough pussy to go around makes them irritable. What I want is for you to hunt them out for us. We get women, and you get access to anything you want. What do you say?”
Veral sneered at the humans and turned his head away in disgust, allowing his silence to answer for him. He could kill and hunt at his leisure whatever prey he set his mind on. He even thought to hunt down the alien, the female, when he first saw her, but he would not help these lesser beings trap the female who remained in his thoughts for a dishonorable purpose. He would rather hunt her and subdue her, triumphant in his own victory over her strength, and kill her if necessary than turn her over to them.
“Very well,” Marcus said at length. “Maybe we need to give you some time to think about it. Dale…”
A stream of energy lit through him with such strength that, though it had been brief, it was enough to disorient him. He watched through unfocused eyes and curled his lip as the human approached with a syringe. His body jerked as it was plunged into his neck, the drug pulling him down into darkness as his nanos remained disabled and helpless to aide him.
When he woke again, the sky was dark, the camp lit only by a fire in the distance. He inhaled, his mandibles flaring, and he caught the taste and stench of males near him. Furious, he opened his eyes. Several males were gathered around them. Many of them had their clothing opened, their strange, shapeless civix clenched in their hands as they stood near the fire. Several females had been brought out and were being held against the ground as the males took turns rutting into them.
Sex, aggression, and impatience flavored the air with its rank musk.
A male stepped away, his civix still leaking seed, revealing the female’s oddly exposed wet quin as she shivered and made small noises in her throat. The glimpse was brief as another male slid behind her and thrust within the welcoming opening. She squealed beneath him, her hips jerking as the male pounded into her, his breath coming in grunts of pleasure. The display was both informative and disturbing, the way they shared a female together that clearly none were mated to.
His gaze shifted to several of the males who were peering at him curiously as they waited for their turn. One nodded to him as he spoke to the other by his side. “What do you think? Might be interesting to try and fuck that.” He rubbed his civix as he eyed Veral.
“Dude, don’t be stupid.” His companion laughed. “It’s an alien. It’ll probably tear your junk off if you tried to stick it in anywhere.”
Veral growled and rattled his mandibles aggressively in agreement. Just let any one of them attempt to get near him with their civix… He bunched his muscles, rattling the chains as he twisted violently. The males scurried away, stinking of terror. Its taste was to his satisfaction. He hissed, daring them to return. He didn’t see the needle come toward him until he felt the wave of nothingness flood his veins, dragging him once again deep into his mind.
4
Terri stepped gingerly around the rocks surrounding the spring. Even after a full day of rest, her leg still ached like a bitch. She stopped, balancing her weight on her good leg as she squinted through the harsh sunlight at her companion. Bedlam paced easily around her, his burns and minor injuries almost completely healed. The tiny tentacle “whips” didn’t seem to move at all when he jogged close by her side, and they lay flat now as he watched her expressionlessly from where he was perched on top of a large rock. He didn’t pant like a dog would in such heat. Between the glittering darkness of his scales, pearly eyes, and his sharp face that almost resembled a jackal if not for the massive hyena-like jaws, he resembled some sort of eccentric art born from a deranged mind more than a living animal.
Turning away from him, she squinted down at the spring, her dry tongue running over parched lips. The water trickled out in a small stream. It would take some time to fill her bottles, but the water flowed out from the limestone pure and clean. It was the safest place to get water in the entire city. She kneeled down and scooped water into her mouth.
When she finally drank her fill, she sat back and peered up at Bedlam again to find him stretched out on the rock patiently. He was definitely well-trained. He had to be thirsty as well, but he hadn’t bolted for the water. He didn’t even seem to be looking at it. His attention was noticeably divided between her and the landscape.
“Come on. Bedlam. Come get a drink, boy,” she said.
His ears perked her way and he glanced down. After a long, languorous stretch, he dropped down from the rock in a graceful bound. His little tentacles began to writhe toward her the moment he neared, his massive head and body brushing against her with affection. Terri laughed and patted his shoulder while she disentangled herself from the thin members grabbing onto her. Giving his shoulder a final pat and a light shove, she walked over to crouch by the trickling water. It puddled in a rocky dip at the bottom, at which Terri gestured.
“Go ahead. Get a drink while I fill this up,” she said as she lifted up the metal canisters. Although they heated the water, she preferred them to the plastic bottles that left the water tasting strange after a while.
Bedlam sank down on his haunches, his long tongue snaking out to lap at the small pool of water. She watched for a moment—because it really was an absurdly long tongue—and notched the mouth of the bottle just below the natural spigot in the stone. Bedlam drank little water compared to what she was expecting for his size, and before she had even filled her first bottle, he jumped back onto the rock beside the spring, stretching out beneath the rays of the sun.
She was really curious about whatever world he came from that he could survive the heat and thrive with so little water. As if sensing her eyes on him, he turned his head to look back down at her, his long ears tilting toward her as he held her firmly in his regard before glancing away once more.
Terri laughed as she grinned up at him. It seemed that Bedlam was once again patiently waiting on her. He never seemed to completely relax, not even to doze in the warm rays of the sun. Even lying down as he was, his every sense seemed to be scanning the environment around them in a way that he hadn’t done in the shelter. It occurred to her that he was more on edge since they were out in the open. The spring didn’t have any buildings close by to provide cover if necessary. Just large rocks. It had never bothered her until now. Until watching him stare fixedly at one direction or another, his ears shifting at every sound, as if there were something out there beyond her ability to see. She hunkered down more at the side of the spring, feeling exposed, a shiver running up her spine.
It was almost worse that, every now and then, he lifted his head and gazed in the direction of the Reaper camp, as if foretelling of danger coming from that direction. That she was well aware of. Nothing good ever came from going near the camp. A smart woman wouldn’t be so stupid to venture close nor to linger where they might find her.
Glancing up at the sun, she pursed her lips thoughtfully. The hour was still early enough that she suspected the entire camp was still sleeping off whatever brew they had concocted. The women would soon be out to look for food and water long before the men would wake. That was her only opportunity to learn what was going on beyond the walls. Her safety often depended on it. If she were fortunate, she would be able to meet with her contact and be gone long before anyone else arrived to gather water.
She was on her third and final bottle when Bedlam, sprawled out on the rock beside her, began to shake his whips around his head, creating a hissing rattle. He stiffly rose to his feet, his lip curled back from his sharp teeth as he stared ahead. Terri felt her neck prickle and slowly turned. Blood pounding in her ears, she was sure that she was going to turn and find one of the Reapers approaching. Her breath left her in a gust of relief as she instead saw the familiar face of her childhood friend.
“For fuck’s sake, Meg,” she breathed around a shaky laugh. “You scared me there. I thought for sure you were one of the Reapers.” She peered at her friend’s pallid face with concern. “What’s wrong with you? Did one of those bastards do something…?”
Meg swallowed noticeably, her eyes fixed on the spot just over Terri’s shoulder. “What the fuck is that thing, Terri?” she whispered hoarsely.
Terri glanced behind her and winced as she saw Bedlam still standing menacingly over her. Though he had dialed it back a bit and was no longer baring his teeth, he was still very much on alert, looking like death incarnate. Turning back to her friend, she capped her bottle and stuck it in her back before lifting a hand in a calming gesture.
“No reason to be afraid. That’s just Bedlam. I found him… Well, he found me, and we’ve been taking care of each other. He’s some sort of dog, I think,” she said, her voice trailing off as her friend’s stare transferred to her.