LONG ROAD AHEAD

6

Craven woke to the feeling of hands sliding up his thighs. Craven opened his eyes and saw Phoenix kneeling on the cot between his legs. Her tiny hands run up the inside of his thighs. Her smoky eyes stared up into his and flashed with a strange hunger. “Phoenix?” He whispered, surprised to see her where she was.

            A wicked little smile curved the corners of her lush mouth as her hands moved over his manhood, groping him through his pants. Craven groaned at the exciting contact, his gaze holding hers. She crawled up, straddling his lap. Craven sighed with anticipation, watching her as she began to remove the straps that held her leather armour in place.

            Removing her armoured vest, Phoenix tossed it aside. She leaned over, her lips capturing his in a hot kiss. Eagerly Craven sat up beneath her, one arm wrapping around Phoenix, pulling her close against him while his tongue invaded the sweet depths of her mouth. Craven slipped his other hand beneath her wool shirt, cupping her perky breasts. The soft mounds filled his hand perfectly.

            Craven groaned against her lips; he had become impossibly hard. His desire to enjoy her had taken over. He had never been so possessed by a woman so quickly. His lust invoked so effortlessly. He needed to sink deep within Phoenix and slake the desire that was burning him up inside before it completely consumed him.

            Suddenly Phoenix broke their heated kiss and stared deep into his eye. “Wake up,” she said.

            Craven stared back at her with confusion. “What?”

            “Wake up.”

            Craven jerked awake to find Phoenix standing over his cot, fully dressed and ready to go. “Let’s head out. It’s daybreak,” she said, handing him his shotgun holster and cloak.

            He had been dreaming. Craven sat up. His jeans were painfully uncomfortable. The dream may have been false, but the effect was very much real. He pulled on the holster and then wrapped his cloak around his shoulders, grateful that it would hide his morning affliction.

            Craven did a quick check of his pockets, drawing a knowing smirk from Phoenix. “Is it all there?” She asked smugly.

            He offered her a friendly smile in return. “It would appear so.”

            “Well then, I woke alive, and you woke with all your property still in your possession. It would appear we are off to an amenable partnership.”

            “It would seem so,” he agreed, following her out into the next room. Craven picked up the satchel and watched Phoenix place her bow and quiver over her shoulder. They headed out of the bunker, each pulling their hoods up over their heads to protect themselves from the blistering morning sun.

            Some days were hotter than others, and this one was a scorcher. They headed north as planned, trudging through the forest at a steady pace. They occasionally stopped for water. Rationing what little they had left. They would need to make a stop in town soon to replenish their supplies.

            They walked along for some time when Phoenix noticed a hawk circling above. It saw something on the ground they both knew. Probably a rodent of some sort that it wished to eat. “At least something will be eating today,” Craven said, wiping the perspiration from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.

            He took a few steps forward when he noticed that Phoenix had paused where she was and very slowly took her bow from her shoulder. Craven watched as she drew an arrow from her quiver and placed it between the finely carved wood and string. Phoenix lifted her bow and aimed. She held her position without taking the shot. Was she seriously going to try and strike down that bird in flight? It moved too fast.

            “You are never going to hit that hawk,” he said. It was an impossible shot. There were way too many variables. The bird was in constant motion flying around in circles. It was too high and too unpredictable. The bird cloud change directions, speed, elevation and then her arrow would have been wasted.

            “I’ll hit it,” Phoenix promised, still holding her shot.

            “Really?” Craven retorted with a snicker.

            “Yep,” she said, never taking her eyes from the moving bird.

            “Then why have you not taken the shot?” He asked. “What are you waiting for?”

            “The opportune moment,” she said as the hawk swooped down to the ground to snatch up the rodent it had been stalking. Phoenix’s aim followed it down, and as soon as the hawk was level with the ground, she pulled back on her bow and released. The arrow tore through the air and struck the hawk dead center pinning it against a tree a few feet away with some force. Phoenix slung her bow back over her shoulder with a triumphant smirked. “Lunch.”

            “I stand corrected.” Craven was impressed she was remarkably good with that bow. Such a shot was not easy. It was no wonder she was so well fed. As Phoenix had said, she was a talented huntress. They headed over to her kill, which had to have been at least a hundred and fifty yards away. Phoenix closed her tiny hand around the shaft of the arrow and pulled it from the tree with surprising force for someone her size. The hawk dropped to the ground with a thump.

            Craven watched as Phoenix returned the arrow to her quiver. “Waste not,” she said, bending down to pick up her kill. They stopped for lunch. Phoenix cleaned and plucked the hawk while Craven used his sword to cut wood for the fire. Arranging some rocks and dirt, he built a pit and set a blazing fire while Phoenix skewered the hawk on a spit then carefully set the bird to roast. Soon they had a filling and satisfying meal with enough left over to take with them for later that day.  

            After they ate, Craven kicked a mound of dirt into the fire to put it out as they continued on their way. They decided to stop in a shantytown twenty miles north-west of the forest to refill their canteens and barter some of the weapons they acquired last night for ammunition and explosives. It was always good to be well-armed while wandering the wasteland, but there was a limit to how much one could carry. One good gun with ammunition was more useful than four guns without.

            They reached the town by sundown and made their first stop to the local armoury. Like most armouries, it was a dive. Just a rickety little shack built out of rotted plywood and scraps of tin. The proprietor was a man in his late twenties. A tall dirty man with long shaggy black hair that he wore tied back with twine. He was thin but not scrawny, and besides the multiple bruises and his sunken eyes, he appeared as healthy as most. He smiled a gap-toothed yellow grin when he saw them enter his small one-room shop. 

            The only window was blacked out, and candles lighted the room. Instable wooden shelves were poorly secured to the walls. Both the shelves and the few tables there were covered in all sorts of weapons from blades to firearms. Behind the counter, he kept boxes of bullets, grenades, and home-made pipe bombs.

            “Lilith,” he said with a rough, raspy voice. Phoenix smiled as she reached the counter and began to empty her haul out on the top before him. “What do you have for me today, beautiful?”

            Craven lifted a knowing brow when he heard the name the shop owner referred to her as. In addition to being a thief, she was a compulsive liar. Phoenix ignored Craven’s accusatory glance. “I have some real beauties for you today, Mitch. Look at these pistols and these hunting knives; it is perfectly balanced,” she said, balancing the knife on her index finger. “Feel that grip,” she said, handing the knife to the guy behind the counter handle first. He accepted it and studied the knife. He seemed pleased.

            “So, is it funds or trade today?” He asked, accepting what she had brought him.

            “Trade,” she said. “I need bullets and explosives. Oh, and my friend here has something for you as well.”

            Mitch turned his attention to Craven. “Is that so? Are you travelling with Lilith?” Craven just stared at Mitch with one of his intimidating glares. What a stupid question. It was obvious that they were travelling together. He dispised morons, and in the wasteland, there were many. “That is amazing,” Mitch said, awkwardly clearing his throat. Craven was making him uncomfortable. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her with anyone.”

            “Lucky me,” Craven said as he placed his haul on the counter. “I need bullets, shotgun rounds, grenades, and dynamite,” Craven listed.

            “Alright, let’s see what I got for you,” Mitch said, sorting through his shelves. He placed four small boxes of bullets on the counter and one larger box of buckshot rounds. “I don’t have any dynamite and only a half dozen grenades, but I can give you some store credit or maybe interest you in a new sword.”

            “I got a sword,” Craven sighed. “I’ll take those semi-automatics and some ammunition for them,” he said, pointing to the weapons mounted to the wall behind the shop owner. Mitch retrieved the weapons and handed them to Craven. He did a quick inspection of each weapon. He wanted to make sure they were each in good working condition. The last thing he wanted was to be chased by something big and hungry only to have his gun jam.

            “Satisfied?”

“They will do,” Craven replied.

“Anything else I can do for you?” Mitch asked, leaning on his counter and offering Phoenix a flirtatious smile. “Or to you?”

            For some reason, his forwardness annoyed Craven. It was strange he and Phoenix were nothing more than travelling companions, and still, Craven was offended that this man would make a play for her while he was clearly with her.

            “Now, Mitch, you know me better than that,” she teased.

            “Yeah,” he sighed, “next time, it is always next time.”

            Craven and Phoenix took their new acquisitions and tucked them away on their persons. Phoenix said goodbye to Mitch, and they left the armoury. “Lilith?” Craven said as they strolled down the streets.

            “A woman on her own can never be too careful.”

            “So, which is it? Lilith or Phoenix?”

            “Phoenix,” she laughed. “Would I lie to you?”

            “Yes,” Craven could not help the smile that curved his lips when she batted her long dark lashes and smiled up at him innocently. When she smiled like that, it was hard to remember just how cunning and calculated she was. 

            From the armoury, they wandered the town until they found the water shack. There was a long line of people waiting to fill their canteens and water jugs. When they finally reached the front of the line, they presented their canteens and were quoted the price. It was far more than Craven had ever paid in any of the other towns in the last five weeks. “Why so much?” He complained, taking it from what he had in his sack of rubies. Almost half his purse was gone when he was done paying for the water.

            “There is a water shortage,” the merchant explained. “Three of the wells have a sour gas leak contaminating the water, and two of the nearby creeks have dried up. We have to bring it in from much farther away now, and it goes so quickly.”

            “Supply and demand,” Phoenix said, taking her canteens. She tied each to her belt. Craven took his own and attached them to his person as they walked away. “It is disgusting the way they gouge people for a little water the moment it becomes difficult to obtain. They know the people can’t live without, and they will be forced to pay those outrages prices or die of thirst,” Phoenix shook her head and made a disapproving sound. “And they call me the thief.”

            The sun was setting, and they had a decision to make, did they push on in the darkness and risk their chances with the things that go bump in the night, or did they stay in town and procure themselves a room. Craven had enough left to buy a room for the night if they so chose to stay in town. It was probably best if they did. At this time of year, the sun went down quickly, and the likelihood of them finding suitable shelter elsewhere before dark was slim and risky. “I think we should attempt to find a room for the night,” Craven suggested. “The sun is going down, and we should stay put.”

            “The question is, where?” Phoenix said as they walked along.

            “What do you mean?” He asked. Rooms were easy to find. Craven certainly had never had a problem finding a room in any town he stopped in.

            “Finding a room may be easy for you; you’re a guy. Everyone is willing to rent to you. It is harder for me. No one wants to rent a room to a woman,” she grumbled as they walked along.

            “You found a room the night you acquired the book,” he pointed out.

            “After I argued with the proprietor and paid twice as much as anyone else would have had to,” she snipped. Craven tried hard to repress the smirk he felt. “What do you find so amusing?”

            “I didn’t realize it was so difficult to be a woman,” he smiled, humouring her.

            Phoenix shot him a nasty glare. “Try it one day.”

            Craven didn’t feel like provoking her into a verbal battle of the sexes. He had a feeling it would be a war he would not win. They could try for a room at the bar, but those rooms usually came with companionship. Probably not a great place to try with a woman at his side. There was always the gaming hall. They sometimes had rooms for some of their patrons, but as Phoenix had so adamantly pointed out, they usually catered to men. There was a small inn down the road in the center of town. It was probably their best option.

            “I’ve been here a time or two, and I believe there is an inn just ahead. We can likely find a room there,” Craven said, pointing up the road.

            They walked up the busy street toward the inn, and on the way, Phoenix bumped into a man in passing. “Sorry,” she apologized sweetly as he smiled at her, then they kept on walking.

            Craven paused as he realized what had just happened. He put his hand out in front of her, stopping Phoenix short. She looked surprised as Craven stared down at her suspiciously. “What did you take from him?”

            “What are you talking about?” She asked, offended.

            “I chased you through town. You are fast and sure-footed. You are far from clumsy and unobservant. You just picked that man’s pocket,” Craven said firmly.

            “So, what if I did?” Phoenix said quietly with annoyance. “I am a thief, after all.”

            “We have funds,” Craven reminded her.

            “We could always use more.”

            “If you are going to travel with me, I won’t have you robbing innocent people.”

            “An assassin with a social conscience, how atypical.”

            “Give back what you took, Phoenix,” Craven demanded.

            “How do you know he is innocent?” She asked, staring up at him. Craven held out his hand, and she glared at him. Finally, Phoenix reached into her cloak and removed a small hide skin purse. She placed it in his hand with a scowl. “This will seriously reduce my profits if I must first profile all my marks to determine if they are wicked,” she complained.

            “I am sure we will get by,” Craven smiled then rushed after the man she had robbed. He stopped him by tapping the man on the shoulder and drawing his attention. “Excuse me, Sir, but I believe you dropped this when you bumped into the lady,” he said, handing the man back his purse.

            “Oh, dear, thank you. That was very kind of you and so honest,” he smiled. The man opened his purse and handed Craven two gold coins. “A reward,” he said, “for your honesty, Sir, there should be more people like you in this world.”

            Craven thanked him and headed back toward Phoenix, proudly waving the coins in front of her. “A reward for returning his purse,” he smirked.

            “A reward you would not have gotten had I not pinched the purse in the first place. Again, you benefit from my efforts.”

            Craven grinned, Phoenix had a point. “I’ll tell you what. I will split it with you,” he said, handing her one coin. “Since you did half the work,” Phoenix snatched the coin from him and stuffed it into her pocket.

            “We could have quite the racket you and me,” she said slyly. “I pinch it; you return it for a reward. We could make a lot of money,” Phoenix suggested.

            Craven shook his head and laughed. “You are incorrigible,” he said, heading for the inn. “I don’t think you have an honest bone in your body.”

Finding the inn, they went inside. Craven found the innkeeper behind the rundown counter. A mutant with grotesque sagging features and a greyish tint to his complexion. Phoenix was having difficulty looking at the man; he was surprisingly unsightly.

“We would like two rooms,” Craven said, looking the man in the face; his chosen profession had hardened him to gruesome sights.

            “I don’t have two rooms,” the innkeeper answered in a low, somewhat gurgling sound.

            Well, he supposed they could share a room if need be. “Ok, we’ll take whatever room you do have,” he said.

            “I don’t have any rooms,” the innkeeper informed him. “I rented the last one this morning. You should try the gaming hall. They might have one left.”

            They left the inn, stepping out onto the street. “Well, what do we do now?” Craven asked, shrugging his shoulders. He knew what he would do if he were alone, but with Phoenix, things were more complicated.

            “We try the gaming hall,” Phoenix said simply and started walking. Craven followed her, unsure she had thought things out. The gaming hall would be filled with gamblers and women of negotiable virtue. Every man in there would assume the worst of Phoenix and do their best to claim her. She was setting herself up for a long and trying night, with no guaranty of gaining a room.