Emma: Part One (Outpost Nine Book 1) (2 page)

Finger squeezing the trigger, she exhaled gently and fired off a round. The zombie she had picked jerked as the bullet slammed into his forehead. He dropped like a sack of rocks, but she didn't take time to gloat. She racked the bolt and forced another round into the chamber.

The cyborgs snapped their attention to her guard tower. Their harsh faces frightened her. These men were killing machines, born and bred for warfare. They could take her apart at the joints and gut her like a deer in a minute flat.

But her conscience wouldn't allow her to abandon them. They weren't fully human, but they were close enough. Besides, they were allies in this battle against zombies. In rapid succession, she picked off two more zombies. Her suppressing fire had the intended effect and sent some of the zombies scrambling back for cover. She had already used three rounds so she made the last two count and aimed for the heads of the zombies closest to the cyborgs to give them some breathing room.

When two more zombies fell and her rifle was empty, she quickly slammed five more rounds into the chamber and lifted the firearm to resume her zombie hunt. Like tin cans on a fence, she popped the zombies one after the other as the cyborgs made the mad dash across hundreds of yards of open field. When they drew near the fence, the cyborgs started to slow. They had obviously realized the fence was electrified.

Emma set aside her rifle and hurried to the edge of the guard tower, where the circuit switches had been placed. She was suddenly very glad she had taken care of the covers and maintained them to prevent rust. One good tug and the lid lifted to reveal the switches. Emma flicked the two switches, routing juice through the gate.

With the electricity dead in that area, both men glanced up at her, their faces red with exertion and shiny with sweat. They looked as if they'd been running all day and were having a hard time catching their breath. Judging by the expressions on their faces, they clearly wondered why she hadn't let them in yet.

Voice quavering, she asked, "Are you wounded? Are you bleeding? Have you been bitten?"

They both shook their heads. As far as she could tell, they looked all right. Up close, she noticed just how huge they were. They had to be nearly seven feet tall with the broadest shoulders and widest chests she had ever seen. Apparently the rumors of good food and medical care on the Outposts were true.

Her gaze fell to their tactical outfits. Wearing black at this time of year? Fall had just arrived in Texas and the grass and trees were starting to turn and lose their summer vibrancy. To hide from zombies and walk in the forests, those men should have been wearing camouflage. She noticed they seemed light on weapons and ammo. Either they had been caught unaware and unprepared—which didn't seem likely—or they had been fighting off zombies for a long time and had nearly exhausted their supplies.

Still, they had enough rounds, guns and knives to make some trouble. She pointed to their holsters. "Drop the weapons. Now."

"You are out of your fucking mind if you think I'm leaving my guns and ammo out here." The dark-haired cyborg spoke with the gruffest, deepest voice she had ever heard.

Emma squared her shoulders, refusing to buckle under his intense stare. "And you're out of your fucking mind if you think I'm going to let two armed-to-the-teeth cyborgs onto my property. The guns. The ammo. The knives. Drop 'em. Now."

The rude one started to argue, but the sandy-haired cyborg grabbed his arm. They exchanged a tense look before the lighter-haired nodded. "All right. We're disarming."

Emma didn't miss the glare the gruff cyborg shot in the more reasonable one's direction. It wasn't her problem. They could quarrel later. Once the weapons were on the ground, she jerked the lever controlling the gate. The second it swung open, both men dived inside. The dark-haired cyborg slammed the gate shut with his combat boot as they scrambled to safety. Emma quickly engaged the lock and returned the juice.

Not wasting a second, she picked up the pump-action shotgun she had set down earlier and racked it. There was no other sound in the world like that—and it got their attention quickly. Both men's gazes snapped to her face. They slowly climbed to their feet and stared up at her. She waited until their breaths slowed and they seemed more at ease to talk.

"All right," Emma said finally. "I'm going to ask you some questions, and you're going to answer truthfully. One sniff of bullshit, and you're leaving this farm eunuchs. Got it?"

n

Max couldn't believe his shitty luck. Ambushed, chased by zombies, and now a human female with a shotgun trained on his nuts. What a fucking goat rope this day was turning out to be!

"All right, honey," he said carefully. "There's no need for violence. Why don't you put down the gun, sweetheart?"

She made a sound of disgust. "How about you stop calling me honey and sweetheart?"

"Okay." Max decided to tread cautiously. He had seen the way she had picked off those zombies at nearly three hundred yards. At this close distance and with that shotgun, she could blow their damn heads off.

"We'll answer whatever questions you ask," Jack offered, his voice level and friendly. He shot Max a shut-the-fuck-up look that made Max realize they couldn't transmit to each other. If they had been able to silently communicate via the implants in their brains, Jack's voice would have sounded loud and clear in his brain. Or rather, Max's brain would have recreated the impulses in a way that would have triggered his memory of Jack's voice.

Curious, he glanced at the fence. Must be all that juice running through the wires scrambling their signals.

"We're not here to hurt you." Jack kept his hands up as if to assure her they weren't bad men. "You're a very good shot. I've rarely seen a human with that kind of aim and accuracy."

Max fought the urge to frown at his lifelong friend. He wasn't just buttering the girl up either. He really was that nice—and it pissed Max off to no end. So much for cyborgs being soulless killing machines.

"You should spend more time outside the wire. You'd see that we're not as weak as you'd like us to be."

The girl didn't lower that shotgun an inch. She stood there like some goddamned post-apocalyptic Annie Oakley—and it turned him on something fierce.

He had been stunned to realize it was a woman manning the guard tower and firing off those shots. Originals were fairly rare, especially human women her age. Their numbers were dwindling with every generation, just like those of his people.

Getting close enough for a look at her face had nearly floored him. She was the prettiest little thing he had ever seen, with all that black hair tumbling around her shoulders and those bright-green eyes. Sometimes his enhanced cyborg sight came in handy and today was that day. He was able to zoom right in on her sweet face and take in those full pink lips. He couldn't help himself and wondered what it would be like to taste them.

But she was so small!

The humans who existed outside the cities and Outposts tended to suffer from food insecurity. They weren't starving, but they weren't always satisfied. She probably stood two or three inches over five feet. He couldn't make an accurate guess of her weight in the too-large men's clothing she wore. The khaki cargo pants and faded flannel shirt cloaked her body.

His forehead creased as he considered that she was all alone out here picking off zombies and dealing with cyborgs. Where the hell was her father, or brothers? She needed males to care for and protect her. If she had been his woman, he wouldn't have let her out of his sight. She was much too precious to risk.

"Where is your father, honey? Or your brothers? Maybe some uncles?"

She frowned at him. "Seriously, what's with the honey? I'm not your honey. I'm Emma. And you don't need to worry about my father or anyone else. I'm the one asking questions, remember?"

Max squashed the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Oh, he really liked this Emma. So feisty and beautiful—he would have to see if her males were open to a trade. He and Jack were very well-respected men at the Outpost and high-ranking. They could offer Emma an extremely comfortable life with plenty of food and clothes that fit. They could keep her safe and protect her the way an Original female deserved.

"Emma, I'm Jack. This is Max." Jack tapped Max's shoulder. "We're officers stationed at Outpost 9. It's a mid-sized military and civilian installation approximately 250 miles to the northeast of here. We're currently on long-range scouting missions to compile a census and other recon."

Max watched Emma's face as Jack spoke. He noticed the way her eyes narrowed. She was naturally skeptical. Smart girl. Jack was telling the truth, but she didn't know that and it was wise of her to treat every word out of their mouths like lies. The world was a crazy, violent place and a sweet young thing like her could never be too careful.

"Other recon, huh? Is that doublespeak for scouting out the human settlements to see how easy it would be to take them over, steal the women and sell them on the skin market?"

Max was taken aback by the vehemence in her voice. "Is that what you think of us? That we kill humans without provocation and sell women into the sex trade?"

A flicker of uncertainty crossed her pretty face. "I've heard stories. People talk on the Chain."

Max glanced at Jack. What the hell was the Chain? He decided not to let his ignorance show.
Never let an enemy get the upper hand
. Emma wasn't technically the enemy, but she did have a shotgun pointed at him. "Do you believe everything you hear?"

"Until I can get outside this fence and see it with my own eyes, information shared on the Chain is the best I've got." She straightened her aim with the shotgun. "Unless you can convince me otherwise."

Max decided he had had enough of that shotgun in his face. "Look, Emma, we're not your enemy. We don't kill humans. We don't steal women. Hell, we
love
human women. Do you have any idea how incredibly special Original women like you are? If you were ours, you'd never know hunger, cold or danger." His needy gaze raked her body. "We'd treat you the way an Original should be treated."

"And how's that?" Her voice was softer now, more curious.

"Like a queen," Jack said as he lowered his hands. “You would be pampered, provided for and protected.”

Max saw the surprise ripple across her face. She wavered a moment before lowering the shotgun and flicking on the safety. She pointed the gun toward the ground and gestured to the gate. "Let me kill the juice so you can grab your things."

"Thank you, Emma." Max followed Jack to the gate. He fought the urge to glance over his shoulder. His training told him not to turn his back on her, but something about her had earned his trust. Sure, she could put a round of buckshot in his back or lock them back out with the zombies, but he didn't think she was that kind of person. She seemed genuinely honorable. She had been scared enough of them to fear they were going to sell her to skin traders yet she had still saved their lives.

He and Jack waited for the gate to go dead and for Emma to unlock it before they quickly jogged out and grabbed their weapons. Back inside the safety of the fence, they strapped on their gear. Emma locked the gate and turned on the electricity. Max watched her slip on her backpack and the slings attached to the rifle and shotgun. She dropped the hoe over the edge of the platform rather than carry it. She moved with ease as she climbed down the ladder and hopped to the ground. Clearly, she was comfortable defending herself and quick on her feet.

"Come on," she said with a wave of her hand. "I've got to finish checking this fence. You two can tag along and help me. I'll take you back to my place and feed you. I'd offer you my radio, but I can't pick up your frequencies on this handheld." Her fingers touched the small radio attached to her belt. "I've got a bigger transceiver at the house. Hopefully you can raise your people that way."

He was surprised at the way she gave orders. Did her male family members allow her to tell them what to do? That was a sure sign of weakness. If he and Jack were able to work out an acceptable trade for her, Max would have to make it clear that he didn't take orders from a female, even one as beautiful as Emma.

Max glanced at Jake and gave a subtle nod of his head. Jack instantly fell into step behind Emma, protecting her from the rear. Max moved between her and the fence, shielding her from whatever lurked outside.

Emma frowned up at him. "What are you doing?"

"Protecting you," he answered matter-of-factly.

"I don't need your protection. Besides," she laughed, "I seem to remember that I was the one who saved your asses. Seems as if maybe you need my protection."

Max bristled at the insinuation they needed to be saved. "We're not allowed to engage the enemy with high-powered arsenal in unknown territory. It would put human life at risk. Otherwise, we wouldn't have needed your help."

She shrugged. "Keep telling yourself that,
cupcake
."

Jack snorted with amusement. Max glared back at him but Jack had turned his gaze back toward the fence.

"I am not a cupcake."

"And I'm not your honey."

"Not yet," Max muttered. Her shoulders jumped a bit, telling him she had heard his words.
Good
, he thought. She obviously hadn't had contact with cyborgs and probably didn't know his type were naturally aggressive. When he saw something he wanted, he wouldn’t take no for an answer—and he wanted Emma. No doubt about it. She had awakened a burning lust inside him unlike any other woman, cyborg or human, ever had.

Emma stopped and turned to face him. She slipped into a boxer's stance, her position defensive and seemingly prepared for a fight. He took a small step back, silently informing her that he had no intention of ever putting a hand on her. He never wanted Emma to be afraid of him.

"Let's get something straight right now, big guy." Emma pointed a finger at his chest, punctuating her words. "You and your friend are welcome to stay at my home, but that's it. You can share my food and my roof, but I want you out of here by morning. I'm not available to be your honey, okay? So just let it go."