LONG ROAD AHEAD

9

They watched the ruins from a distance. The roads into the city had been destroyed long ago, buried by centuries of dirt and sand. From what they could see, the streets of the ruins appeared empty, but that didn’t mean they were safe. Molearks were known to live in the subways and sewers, underground to stay away from the heat of the sweltering sun.

            Their pale flesh was sensitive to the light. Molearks did not usually emerge to the surface until sundown to scavenge for food and hunt. However, their habits were not set in stone, and from time to time, the odd Moleark strayed away and came out during the day to search for food. Ideally, they would get through the city by nightfall, but these particular ruins were extremely large. There was a likely chance it would take more than one day to get through safely.

            Many of the buildings where damaged, toppled over, blown apart, and rundown. There were millions of places to hide, which could both cover them in time of need or conceal something dangerous ready to attack them. They would have to be on their toes the whole way through.

            They did a quick check of their weapons, making sure everything was loaded and ready. Shotgun in hand, Craven looked at Phoenix. “Are you ready to do this?”

            Phoenix c****d her gun, moving a bullet into the chamber. “I’m ready,” she said with a sexy smile. Her confidence seemed to draw a smile from him. He had a wonderful smile; she found herself thinking.

            “Alright, I’ll take point. Let’s keep it tight,” Craven said as he started toward the ruins. Phoenix followed close behind, keeping her eyes open as they started into the city below. The streets were littered with large pieces of fallen buildings and rusted-out demolished old vehicles. The city had been destroyed in the midst of its heights. Its population had been completely annihilated overnight. An entire metropolis silenced within seconds.

            They moved swiftly and silently through the streets, their eyes and ears alert for danger. There were little signs of life. A rodent or two scurrying through the streets. They walked for over an hour with no other signs of life. Feeling secure, they kept to the major roads; certain, they would lead right through the ruins quickest and with the least hassle.

            “What do you think we’ll find when we get there?” Phoenix asked as they walked along. The silence had become too much to stand. It was driving her crazy.

            “When we get where?”

            “Cyprus. Do you think it will be like the stories? I mean, they are stories, after all, no one knows for sure. Well except that one guy, I suppose,” she said, after all, he had come down from Cyprus.

            “I don’t know, but it has to be better than here,” Craven guessed. “Trees and animals, that is what is sketched in the book.”

            “What if we get there, and it’s not there?”

            Craven stopped and turned around to face her, concern in his dark eyes. “Are you having second thoughts?” He asked.

She had been wondering why Adam had not tried to go back sooner. Was it possible that he had lied to coax her to travel with him? Perhaps he had not really been exiled, maybe Cyprus had been destroyed, and he had survived. It would not have been the first time a man had lied to her with the hopes to bed her. If he was a liar, she had to admit; he had been a good one.

            “What if he lied to me?” She suggested. “It would not be the first time.”

            Craven thought about it and rejected the idea. “There is too much proof,” he said with certainty. “We’re going to find it,” he promised with a confident smile. “We are not going to die in this wasteland,” Phoenix smiled. Craven had a way of putting her at ease. Forced or not, she could not have picked a better travelling companion than Craven. She had really misjudged him. He was a decent guy, there were not many in the wasteland, but Craven was one definitely of them.

A gunshot rang out, echoing between the buildings. Phoenix jumped, startled by the unexpected sound. Craven spun out, grunting in pain as he collapsed to his knees, his hand clutching at his shoulder and covered in blood.

            Standing protectively over Craven, using her own body to shield him from the shooter, Phoenix brought up her rifle and looked around frantically for where the shot had come from. She saw no one. They were alone in the street, surrounded by ruined buildings. Using her rifle scope, she searched the higher ground, looking at the windows above them for a sniper and caught the glimmer of the sun hitting the glass of a sniper’s scope. She fired back, causing the shooter the duck behind the wall. She quickly reloaded and aimed once more, waiting for him to present himself.

            “Craven, are you still with me?” She asked, not taking her eyes from the window.

            “Yeah.” He snarled through clenched teeth.

            “Can you move?”

            “Yeah,” he groaned in pain as he attempted to get to his feet.

            “Let’s get inside,” she suggested. “Out of sight, there’s a sniper in that window,” Phoenix backed up slowly with one hand still on her rifle, the other helping Craven back onto his feet. She kept them covered as they moved quickly into an abandoned building behind them.

            They slipped inside, and Phoenix shut what was left of the door. She looked around at the shambled room. It must have once been a restaurant. Phoenix holstered her rifle and took hold of what was left of the tables and pushed them up against the door and shattered windows to barricade themselves in and block the sniper’s view through the windows.

            Keeping behind the wall, she peered out through the cracks of the shattered window, trying to spot the sniper once more. Such tactics were far too skilled and structured for Molearks. Someone else was up in those windows hunting them. She looked back at Craven, who sat with his back against the wall, his hand still clutching his shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding.

            “Do you still see them?” He asked through clenched teeth.

            “No,” she said. “Who would be shooting at us?” She asked, surprised by the situation.

            “Assassins,” he groaned.

            “Did you see them too?”

            “No, but they are the only ones crazy enough to follow us into the ruins,” he said, removing his cloak and shrugging off his shotgun holsters.

            “How do you know that?” She asked.

            “Because I would in order to complete a job,” he said. “They must have come for the book,” he guessed.

            Adam must have realized Craven had double-crossed him and taken up with her. He had sent another team of assassins after them to dispose of her and Craven and retrieve his book. Which meant they would not simply go away. They could not wait them out in here like they had the Scorpios. These predators would not leave until their agenda was met. They were trapped, and soon the sun would set, and the Molearks would come out. She supposed they could hope they took out the snipers, but if they were any kind of smart, they too would hide by dark.

            “Come out, Craven!” A voice called from outside, drawing their attention. “You should have just done the job.”

            “They know you,” she said, looking at Craven. He seemed to recognize the voice too by the scowl on his face.

            “Competition,” he explained. “I may have taken a few of their contracts.”

            “There is more than one of them?” She asked with surprise.

            “Titus and Peter, a brother team. They are ruthless and have no code. They would kill their own parents… in fact, they did.”

            That was not reassuring. “So how do we get out of this?”

            “I don’t know. They got us pinned down.”

            Phoenix removed her cloak and placed her bow and quiver down. They weren’t going anywhere at that moment, and that wound needed tending. She knelt beside Craven and pushed his hand away to inspect the wound. She could not see much through his clothes. Phoenix reached for the straps of his leather armour vest and began to remove it. It had to come off so she could remove his shirt and inspect his shoulder properly. “We need to get this off,” she said, helping him to remove it as he grimaced.

            Phoenix tossed it aside and gathered up the fabric of his shirt in her hands. She lifted it over his head, carefully peeling it off, trying not to move his injured arm too much. She placed the shirt on top of his armour and was momentarily taken back by the sight of Craven topless. His body was hard corded muscle. She had never seen anything like it. The men she had seen in such a state had always been thin and bony, scrawny, and almost as trim as her with little body fat and even less muscle.

            Phoenix forced her attention to Craven’s shoulder. There was a lot of blood, but the wound was clean and shallow. “They don’t appear to be very good shots,” she observed. “For professionals, I mean.”

            “They are hack jobs,” Craven admitted. “It is why I so often wound up with their contracts. Their style is more like busting in doors and spraying the place with bullets. Kill everybody and hope you hit the target at the same time. They are not much for marksmen.”

            She smiled. “Well, aren’t we lucky. The bullet doesn’t look too far in there. We got to get it out thought, or it will fester,” she informed him. Craven nodded; he knew she was right. Phoenix opened the satchel and took out the bottle of Scotch. “I need a clean blade,” she said. Craven pulled one of his throwing knives from the leather covering on his forearm and handed it to her.

            Phoenix first splashed some Scotch onto the wound to sterilize it and watched Craven wince. She handed him the bottle. Craven took a huge drink to dull his senses and then picked up his shirt and bunching it up, he placed it in his mouth and bit down. His dark eyes fixed on her. He nodded his head, indicating he was ready to begin. Phoenix pushed the tip of the small knife into the open wound and searched for the bullet. Craven groaned and moaned, the shirt muffling his pain as she dug the slug out of his shoulder.

            It only took a moment to remove the bullet, and Phoenix placed the knife on the floor beside them. She had to close the wound now. “I have a needle and thread in the case on my belt,” Craven said, tossing the shirt aside. “For stitching,” he suggested, reaching into his belt and finding the necessary tools. “Wounds tend to happen in my occupation,” he smiled, handing the needle and thread to Phoenix.

            “You think you would find a safer occupation,” she teased as she threaded the needle.

            “I hope to retire all together once we reach Cyprus,” he smiled back.

            “This will hurt,” she warned as she began to stitch the wound shut. “You handle this well,” she observed. Craven sat still as if totally relaxed. The only sign of his pain was when he gritted his teeth.

            “Well, it’s not the first time I’ve been shot,” he admitted. “But it hurts just as bad every time.”

            She pulled the stitches tight and tied them off, cutting the thread with the knife she had used to cut out the bullet moments earlier. All they needed now was a bandage to dress the wound with. “You don’t happen to have bandages in that belt, do you?” She inquired.

            “No,” he sighed. “I used them all and have not replaced them.”

            Phoenix needed something to dress his shoulder with to keep the wound clean. Phoenix reached for her sleeves and used the knife to cut the seams. She then tore the sleeves of her shirt off and stitched the ends together. Phoenix took her makeshift bandage and wrapped his shoulder, pulling the dressing tight to keep the bleeding down and the bandage from shifting.

            Craven inspected her handiwork. “You do a good field dressing,” he commented.

            “Sure, you might live,” she smirked playfully. Craven dropped his head back against the wall and lifted the Scotch to his lips to take another drink. He then offered her some. With his wound tended to, they face the next problem of how to get out of this city alive. Phoenix took a big sip feeling the stress of the moment set in. How did they fight someone they could not see? They were at a great disadvantage. “So, you know these guys. How do we get passed them?” She asked.

            Craven groaned as he got up on his feet. “Maybe this place has a back door, and we can slip out unnoticed,” he suggested moving behind what had once been a counter.

            “I don’t think so,” Phoenix said. She was sure this place had been just a little sandwich shop or something similar. She listened while Craven explored the back of the building and cursed.

            “Great, we’re boxed in,” he said, coming back. “The only way in or out is through that door,” Phoenix rose to her feet and took another drink. She handed him the bottle, and he took another large gulp. “Keep drinking like that, and you’ll be useless for anything,” she teased he would not be able to shoot if he could not see straight.

            “It would take a lot more to render me useless sweet,” he winked suggestively at her and took another drink.

            Phoenix could not hide her grin. He was coming on to her, she realized. The Scotch must have gone to his head. He was drinking it down rather fast. “Ok, Casanova,” she teased, standing in front of him, “no more Scotch for you,” she said, reaching for the bottle. Craven moved the bottle before she could take it, and when she reached for it once more, he lifted it way above his head, refusing to give it up, with a mischievous grin on his handsome face. “Give up the bottle, Craven,” she demanded with a giggle.

            Phoenix reached up high on her toes, trying to grab the bottle from his hand, but he was so much taller she could not reach. She jumped up, and he pulled it out of her reach once more, laughing at her effort. Her body fell against his, and they stumbled back against the counter. Phoenix caught herself from falling. Her hands were placed flat against Craven’s bare chest. It was smooth, warm skin and hard muscle beneath her fingertips.

            The laughter ceased. Phoenix looked up, and her gaze met Craven’s, and she found herself lost in his eyes. Her heart was beating so fast. There was such heat in his eyes. She should move, she knew. She should put some distance between them before something happened that they could not take back.

            Craven dipped his head low at that moment. His mouth captured hers in a heated, passionate kiss that sent her senses reeling. He placed the bottle on the counter, and his hand caressed her face, his fingers slipping into her hair, cupping the back of her head. His kiss deepened, his tongue invaded her mouth.

            She could not fight her desire any longer. Her arms moved up over his chest, twining around his neck as she pressed her body fully against his returning his kiss, her desire surprising her. Phoenix had never craved a man, never wanted his kiss, his touch. Male attention had always simply been thrust upon her. The feeling of desire was a novel experience.

            Craven’s tongue danced over hers, and Phoenix felt his hands move down her back. His fingers began to work free the straps of her armour, lifting away the tanned leather vest and letting it drop to the floor. Craven tore his lips from hers and lifted her shirt off over her head and threw it over her armoured vest. A deep, satisfied groan rumbled in his throat as his eyes raked over her nudity. His eyes fell to a thick scar just below her ribs; his finger traced lightly over the disfigurement. 

            Self-conscious, she moved to cross her arms over her body and hide the scar, but Craven’s hand pushed her arms aside, slowly moving up her body. Phoenix sucked in a steady breath, and Craven’s hand cupped her breast in his hand. The pad of his thumb caressing and teasing her n****e. A tantalizing sensation shivered through her entire body. His mouth blazed a path of hot kisses down her throat, her body melted beneath his touch.

“We shouldn’t be doing this. There are assassins hunting us.” She breathed, not wanting him to stop but knowing this was not a good moment for this to happen.

Craven’s mouth found hers once more. “s*x is a great stress reliever.” He whispered between kisses. “I think right now we could both use a little less stress. Besides, we aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. We could die tonight. We might as well make the most of the time.”

            He was right. The likelihood of them both dying tonight was extremely high, and she did not want to die with regrets. Phoenix reached for the heavy weapons belt wrapped about his narrow hips. Making short work of the thick buckle, she removed the belt and sent his weapons clanking to the floor. Following suit, Craven’s hands moved quickly to her belt, and it soon rested on the floor next to his as did his throwing knives and her rifle holster. Their hunting knives and boots were quick to follow.

            Each weapon hit the floor with a clang and a bang. Finally, disarmed Craven tugged at Phoenix’s shorts and pushed them down her shapely thighs letting then drop to the floor around her feet. The heat in his eyes burst into a blazing fire as she now stood before him completely nude. He sucked in a sharp breath, and his hands went to his jeans, his eyes never leaving her.

            Phoenix watched as Crave shed his pants, leaving them in a heap on the floor. The very sight of him left her breathless. He was all powerful muscle. Nothing like the men she had known. His maleness long and thick jetting up for a patch of dark curls between his legs, reaching up against his flat, firm belly.

            Craven reached for his cloak and spread it out across the floor. He reached out and drew Phoenix into his arms, pulling her down on top of his cloak. His mouth found hers. Their tongues duelled in a seductive battle. His hand moved down over her belly and slid between her legs. Phoenix tensed when she realized he meant to touch her there. Her apprehension melted away instantly when his long fingers sunk deep into her woman’s passage. The feel of his touch was incredibly erotic.

            No man had ever touched her this way, had never taken the time seeking her pleasure. Craven thrust his fingers in and out of her sleek passage sending delightful waves of pleasure washing over her. His mouth closed over one pink n****e, and she gasped with satisfaction as he sucked and nibbled it to a firm, taut peak.

            Her hands plunged into his hair as she held him close — his tender assault made her mind spin. Craven pulled Phoenix into his lap as he sat on his cloak. His shoulder was too sore for Craven to brace his weight above her for long. Phoenix straddled his thighs and felt the crest of his hardness at the mouth of her dampness. His hands on her hips, he helped guide her down onto his maleness.

            His eyes closed. Craven groaned with satisfaction as she took him in. Phoenix moaned softly as he invaded her body, forcing her tender tissue to yield to his girth. His hands on her narrow hips, Craven forced her down hard, sheathing himself deep inside her. Phoenix gasped with excitement. She had never felt anything like it. His eyes opened, and his intense gaze held hers.

            Phoenix began to move, sliding up and down over him. Craven’s hands slid over her back. His fingers pulled the rope from her hair and worked her bride free, letting her thick golden mane fall loose against her back. His fingers ran through her long hair, and his lips moved over her throat as he kissed and nibbled at her tender flesh.

            Sensation mounting, her body shivered with growing pleasure. An uncontrollable explosion building in her very core threatened to blow apart her control. Craven placed his hands on the floor at his sides, bracing himself, and without warning, he thrust his hips up hard beneath Phoenix, driving himself hard up into her. She whimpered, the sudden forceful invasion sending a burst of ecstasy coursing through her, pushing her closer to the edge of control.

            Craven pushed up again, and again she whimpered with pleasure. He thrust up one last time, and with that, they were both shaking as the climax took them. Craven collapsed back against the floor, his shoulder killing him from the effort but a smile on his face nonetheless. Phoenix dropped onto the cloak next to him, a warm glow covering her body. She had not believed him when he had told her relations between a man and woman could be pleasurable. He had been true to his word.

            They laid in silence, their bodies cooling and their pulse returning to normal as the weight of what had just transpired sunk in. Her breathing had returned to normal; Phoenix rolled over and found her shorts. She quickly pulled them up over her thighs and did them up. She snatched up her shirt from the floor and pulled it over her head to hide her body from sight.

            She understood the irony of doing so now that he had seen her, had touched her so intimately, but covering up helped ease her shame. She was not sure why she had allowed that to happen. Perhaps the Scotch had not affected Craven alone. Craven got to his feet and pulled his jeans on. He remained silent; his gaze diverted from her. He picked up his shirt and tossed it over the other side of the counter. It had been ruined with blood.

            Craven picked up his leather armour vest and, with one good arm, tried to put it back on over his bare chest. He flinched from the pain. Phoenix came to his side and pushed his hands away. She refastened the straps for him and pulled them tight, seeing to it that his armour sat snugly to his torso. She then found her own and put it back on as she watched Craven wrap his weapons belt around his hips and strap the leather bindings to his forearms.

            Phoenix strapped her shotgun holster to her thigh once more and laced up her boots, slipping her knife back into her boot. Craven strapped his shin guards to his legs and laced his boots. He strapped his holster to his leg and hid his hunting knife. Phoenix picked up her weapons belt and wrapping it snugly around her waist; she buckled it up.

            Craven turned to Phoenix, his expression awkward. “Phoenix-” A howl broke the silence, and a chill swept over her body as Phoenix turned to look at the cracks of the windows. A soft dark red hue poured inside. Sunset, the night was upon them, and Molearks were emerging from their holes. They could hear the sound of motion outside as numerous Molearks came above ground.

            They both went silent and gathered up their things. They rushed over to the door and crouched low behind the overturned table pushed up against the door hiding behind it so as not to be seen by anything looking through one of the windows. Curled up as small as they could make themselves and pressed right up against the bottom of the table, they hugged tight to their things, hoping to go unnoticed.

            Should anything look through the window, the building should still look abandoned, and hopefully, they will move on and not decide to investigate? They stayed silent as they listened to the commotion outside. Phoenix tensed when a shadow appeared in the window beside the door behind them and stretched across the floor. Someone was looking through the window.

            They did not dare to move. They did not breathe as they waited. Phoenix’s hand closed around the handle of her pistol. She would not go without a fight. Craven placed his hand over hers, stopping her silently. Shots rang out, and suddenly the shadow was gone. They listened as the commotion outside shifted elsewhere. Titus and Peter must have been discovered, she realized, as she heard more gunfire followed by screaming. Phoenix’s heart went out to them. Being eaten alive was a horrible way to go. May God have mercy and let them die quickly.