James Axler - Black Harvest

“Good, give them some jack and send them on their way.”

Again the sec chief hesitated. It was the best he could do to let the baron know that he didn’t exactly want to follow the order.

“What is it?”

“I’ve offered them a place to stay for a while. And you’ll be meeting them in an hour at a reception.”

The baron sighed. “I don’t want to waste my time with outland garbage.”

Robards lowered his head. “Your feelings on the subject are well known, Baron, but I would like to keep this group close by for the next few days.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, for one, I’d like to test my men against them.”

“Yes, I suppose that might be fun. I’ll see if it can be arranged. What else?”

“The leader of the group is somehow familiar to me. I’ve sent a man to Indyville to check on something for me. He should return in a day or two.”

The baron looked at his sec chief with an inquisitive eye. “All right, Robards. I trust your judgment enough to let you play this out. But, in the meantime, would you mind telling me what all this is about?”

“I’d rather not until I’m sure. Could be right, could be wrong.”

“Will I like what you have to tell me if you’re right?”

Robards shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Then don’t tell me until I need to know.”

Ryan lay back on the cot watching Krysty strip to the waist. There was dirt and grime on her skin, darker on her arms and shoulders, lighter but still present on her back, belly and breasts.

“No running water in here, lover,” she said, running her hands gently over her body. “But they did leave us a few jugs of water, washcloths and a washbasin big enough to stand in.”

“Very kind of them,” Ryan said, admiring the firm shelf of Krysty’s chest and the perky nipples placed high on each breast. The Deathlands had made her body hard, but it was hard and sculpted in all the right places.

“Would you like to wash my back?” she asked, slipping out of the rest of her coveralls, exposing her exquisitely shaped buttocks, and powerful thighs and calves.

Ryan knew that if Krysty felt comfortable enough here to wash up, then they were probably safe for the next little while. Ryan too felt safe for the moment, and he also knew that the feeling wouldn’t last. It was best to take advantage of the moment and enjoy it while it lasted.

“How could I say no?”

He got up from the bed and approached Krysty from behind. She gathered her fiery red hair in her hands and pulled it forward around her neck and away from her shoulders to expose the base of her neck and top part of her back.

Ryan picked up a washcloth and dipped it into the lukewarm water. After squeezing out the excess water, he dragged the damp cloth across Krysty’s shoulders and watched as the dirt and dust of the day flowed away, leaving her smooth, unblemished, and clean skin behind.

“Mmm.” She sighed. “That feels good, lover.”

Ryan said nothing in response. Instead, he rinsed the washcloth and continued bathing Krysty, moving down her back, over her buttocks and inside her thighs.

And then she turned so he could do the front.

Ryan started at her neck and shoulders again, moving slowly down her body, spending extra time on her breasts, enjoying the way her nipples responded to his touch, and that of the water. Next came the reddish thatch of hair between her legs, which she parted slightly to give him better access to her legs.

“You’re right, lover,” Ryan said. “This does feel good.”

“Your turn now,” she said, smiling.

Ryan stripped down, keeping the SIG-Sauer and Steyr within arm’s reach. The water felt cool on his skin, and Krysty was careful to wipe gently over his scarred flesh to make it feel more like a lover’s touch than a bath.

“Does that feel good?” she asked.

Ryan didn’t answer at first.

Instead he turned around and let her see the aewas having on him.

“Oh, lover,” she breathed.

Ryan took Krysty in his arms and carried her to the bed.

THERE WAS a knock at the laboratory door.

Eleander was hard at work in the lab, making insulin for an East Coast baron with diabetes.

“Just a minute,” she said, trying to free her hands to open the door.

But before Eleander could answer it, the door burst open and Sec chief Robards was standing in the doorway. There was a look of evil on his face, as if he intended to hurt someone.

Someone like her.

“What is it?” Eleander cried, shrinking from the doorway. “What do you want?”

The sec chief took a few steps forward, pushing her backward and forcing her to crawl away from him, but running out of room in the tiny lab.

“You know why I’m here,” he said.

“We were swimming, I swear.”

“A good story for the outlander trash, but not good enough for me, or the baron. We know you were testing possible escape routes.”

“No, that’s not right,” Eleander insisted. “Moira just wanted to get away for a little while, just the two of us, alone. How could I refuse her?”

“You’re supposed to have an escort anytime you leave the ville. You know that as well as anyone.”

“And with the way your sec men look at us, who will protect us from them?”

The sec chief’s hand came out of nowhere, hitting her hard on the cheek and knocking her off her bed. The flesh stung, but the sec chief was too good at administering beatings to ever let a mark show on her face.

“After so many years, I still can’t believe you need to learn your place here,” Sec chief Robards said.

“I’m a chemist, and Moira’s mother—”

“All of which means nothing to me.” Robards grabbed her arm.

“No, please don’t…” And then she cried out, “I’m sorry,” even though she hadn’t done anything wrong.

The sec chief laughed. “Oh, now you’re sorry. Your little adventure made a fool out of me in front of the baron.”

“It was never meant to. I only wanted to spend some time with my daughter.”

But the sec chief was no longer listening. He reached into a pocket on the thigh of his pants and took out a tiny syringe.

Eleander saw the needle and cried out, “No, please… I’ll cooperate. Whatever you want.”

But it was too late to change her mind.

The sec chief jabbed the needle into the base of her neck.

Almost instantaneously, Eleander’s body went limp.

Robards tossed the needle aside and removed his belt.

“Teach you to fuck with me,” he said, as he delivered the first blow.

MILDRED WYETH MADE one last check on Jak’s wound. Although it wasn’t much more than a flesh wound, there had been some tearing to the muscle tissue that had to be repaired before she could close up the hole in his shoulder.

Luckily, Katz had been able to provide her with a local anesthetic that deadened the area enough so that Jak wouldn’t be in too much pain while she worked. He’d jerked his body a couple of times when she hit a nerve, but there were no major problems considering where they were and the conditions the surgery had been done under.

Jak wanted to sleep now, but Mildred wanted to join up with the others before letting him doze off. In a few hours his shoulder would feel as if it had been hit by a gren, and by then he’d be a lot harder to move.

Mildred turned to Katz. “I came here with Jak and four others. We’re supposed to be guests of the baron—can you take us to where my other friends are staying?”

“I’d be happy to,” Katz said. “Anything you need.”

“Thanks.”

“They’re probably in the old sec men’s quarters in the baron’s mansion. I’m going there anyway.”