Captive Heroes (13 page)

Taylor stifled a shiver at remembering finding the remnants of some poor soul who must have been caught out in the open during a storm in the Acid Zone. Nothing had remained of the person except white bones.

He nodded toward the sky so the female could get a look at the beauty. When she lifted her head, appreciation sparkled in her eyes. The sky had turned a deep, pure blue, the white, puffy clouds streaked with gold as the sun sprayed against them. In the far distance ahead of them, the trees gave way to a lush plateau, then to purple hills. In those hills was the Outer Limits.

The Outer Limits was a place forbidden to most. Yet after escaping his enslavement with the women and then leaving the Death Valley Boys, he and his friend Jarod had made it a point to explore that area. They came up with nothing truly significant except for a giant stone female statue, falling apart. Its crown and the torch she carried were pitted with rust and holes. The statue was rumored to be chiseled from stone after the original Goddess of Freedom, a woman who’d raised an army against males, enslaving them all.

But now some male slaves were free, thanks to Jarod and Jarod’s sister, Virgin, the woman who had educated them. Some males had taken their education and turned evil, stealing women, enslaving them and taking on the name the Death Valley Boys. Other males, such as himself and Jarod, were harmless.

At the thought of soon seeing Jarod, Taylor’s heart warmed. He and Jarod had lived here for a while. Hidden in the jungle, they’d built shelters in the treetops. The tree house was where Piper and Jarod had been many days earlier, when Taylor had left to search for her sisters. It was where he hoped to find Jarod and reunite them all.

It would be good to see the fear melt in this female’s gaze when he reunited her with Piper. Perhaps then the woman wouldn’t look at him with alarm and she would trust that he wouldn’t hurt her.

As the river meandered closer to the area of their tree house, he led her from the river and down an almost invisible path. His heart picked up in excitement, but moments later he noticed footprints near the water’s edge. Normally a set of footprints would not alarm him as he would recognize them as Jarod’s. This time, however—if Jarod were around—there would be two sets.

His and the female’s.

But there were more. Three males and two females and none of the footprints belonged to Jarod or his female.

So who had come by here? No one knew of the tree house except for Jarod, Piper and the Hero brothers. Yet the Hero brothers and their women would not dare to venture far from their own village. Not with the stormy season so close at hand. Unless there had been some emergency…

If the prints didn’t belong to a friend, then there was definitely trouble in the air.

“Why have we stopped?” the female asked. Ordinarily with her standing so close, he would have been able to think of nothing else but breathing in her sensual scent and taking her up against a nearby tree. But sex would have to come second now that his survival instincts were in peak mode.

He pointed to the footprints in the mud. “Three males and two females,” he whispered.

Excitement flared in her eyes. She’d misunderstood. “My brothers and sisters?”

“I do not think so.”

The happiness was dashed from her features and it irritated him that he was so disappointed by her devastation.

He did not have time to dwell on his reaction. They were standing out in the open. Easy prey for any enemy. For all he knew, the footprints could belong to the two women who’d enslaved them. They may have brought along slave male trackers to hunt him and the female. He didn’t want to frighten Kayla unnecessarily, but it was best to keep her safe.

“There may be trouble. We need to get out of the open and to be very quiet.”

He’d expected an argument from her or, at the very least, for her to look frightened. She was neither.

Instead she merely nodded as her eyes blazed with a seriousness he’d not seen in her. Most of the lust fever had gone and he believed she could now think clearly, without the thoughts of him fucking her.

Fucking her had done good. So had the rest and food and drink. He liked that she had a cool head under pressure. A hot body and cool head, a very enticing combination. His attraction for her grew several notches.

“Keep pace with me. Do as I tell you without hesitation. Are we clear?”

She nodded.

“We go.”

He did not take her hand to lead her, to keep her close. Instead he opted to keep his and her hands free. Just in case.

With ease, they moved into the cover of the jungle. He made sure not to keep to the tiny trail he and Jarod had allowed themselves to the tree house.

In the years since coming here to hide, they’d grown lax. Their error showed in the weave of trails they’d created.

His heart sank. They would have to part with their tree house and move deeper into the Outer Limits. They’d enjoyed their freedom here. Had worked hard to create the shelters in the trees.

He caught the scent of smoke as he neared the area of their tree shelter. It had grown dark, but his eyes had become accustomed to the dim light. But he was still too far from their shelter and could not tell if Jarod and Piper were alone, if they had company or if—Goddess of Freedom forbid—they might have been captured.

He dared not bring Kayla any closer, just in case. Urging her behind a boulder, he slid the knife from the scabbard he’d woven out of leaves and held it up to her.

Her eyes widened in the gloomy darkness.

“In case I do not return,” he said as she accepted the weapon. “Stay here and do not show yourself under any circumstances. Only I will return for you. If I don’t, leave. Follow the river. Stay in it so you leave no tracks. Go down river for a day. You will see a meadow. It is the second one to your right. At the far end of that meadow you will find a shelter that Jarod and I built. It will be hard to find, so look closely. Stay there until the storms are over.”

“How will I know when they are over?”

“You’ll know. Near the shelter you will find a swamp. There will be a boat. It is well-hidden, so you will have to search hard. On the morning of the second day without storms, follow the sun through the swamps. Continue until the very end where you will see a river. Stay at the mouth of the river until your brothers find you.”

He hoped the Heroes had not grown lax in their posting of a lookout near the tiny village they had created. For if they did, Kayla would most likely perish. But he could not think of that possibility. Dared not consider it or his heart would break.

“If I do not return for you soon, run and do not look back.”

She was about to protest. He could see it in the defiant tilt of her chin and the flare of anger in her eyes, but he cut her off by fusing his mouth over hers. She moaned and melted into his arms, obviously enjoying the kiss. Her body was hot and her breathing rough as he kissed her lush mouth hard and fast.

His cock pulsed and swelled as he thought about removing his loincloth, pulling down her garment and plunging into her warm, tight sweetness. She would welcome his cock inside her. Soft whimpers arose deep in her throat as he firmly pressed his erection against her lower belly.

She parted her lips and pressed her tongue boldly into his mouth. When their tongues clashed, his knees just about melted as arousal exploded through him. Before he lost himself in the intoxicating sexual insanity, he forced himself to break the kiss.

They were both breathing hard in the darkness and he hoped to the Goddess of Freedom no one was nearby, for they would surely hear.

In the darkness, she took a breath as if to speak. Instead she smiled and touched a finger to a scar that ran along his upper chest. He had no idea how she could see it. Or perhaps she was going merely by the line of the raised welt, but her finger ignited an arrow of fire. He needed to explore this sensation if he returned.

“Be safe,” she whispered and dropped her finger.

The loss of her touch left him oddly cold and so alone as he stepped away and jogged off into the nearby jungle.

Chapter Seven

The knife Taylor gave her was heavy and cold in Kayla’s hand. Could she use it if she had to? Sure, she’d been taught self-defense before coming on this mission, but it had all been simulated. This was the real deal and it scared the shit out of her. Just like watching Taylor disappear into the darkness.

She hadn’t really been too frightened when he’d been with her, but the instant he’d gone fear wrapped around her like a smothering blanket. She should have insisted she go with him, as backup. She gripped the handle of the knife tighter and peered into blackness.

No sights. No sounds. He’d vanished like a ghost. Like he’d never been here. Like he didn’t even exist.

The thought of slipping into the night and just leaving him entered her mind. Not because she thought he might hurt her, but because of the way she reacted around him.

Dependant.

She’d never liked that word. Never liked being dependant on anyone. At an early age she’d struck out on her own, much to her parents’ disappointment. They’d liked having their kids around. A big, happy family. Everyone living in the same town. Everyone within walking distance for visits.

Man! How were her parents holding together with all their kids in space? Knowing their kids may not return yet having to follow her brothers’ private instructions and keep this mission a secret from friends and even NASA, so NASA wouldn’t send out search parties.

She would kill her brothers when she found them. The idiots. Why keep Paradise a secret? Why pretend they were dead? Why not let their parents contact NASA and have them send a search party to let the inhabitants of Paradise know they were not alone in the universe? And pick up her stupid brothers while they were at it?

She blew out a slow, agonizing breath of concern. What was taking Taylor so long? Shouldn’t he be back by now? She hadn’t even thought to ask how far this shelter of his might be.

Everything had happened so fast. One minute he’d been showing her the pretty golden sunset and the next she’d been touching a scar on his chest, telling him to be safe and kissing the guy goodbye.

Frustration swept through her and she almost cried out. What if he never came back? What if she never saw him again? If he didn’t, she knew what to do. She would go where he’d said. But what about him? What if something terrible happened to him?

God, why did men have to be such idiots and go off on their own without realizing their women might be worried about them?

Sweet mercy! She was not his woman! She’d just met the guy for crying out loud.

Okay, focus, Kayla. Stop being an idiot and get a grip. Panicking now is not an option.

She forced herself to concentrate on the night sounds. A light breeze made a clicking as it whispered through the dense foliage. Far away in the distance came the distinct murmur of thunder.

Okay, he’d mentioned storms. She could handle a storm. What she couldn’t handle was getting recaptured by those women or those creepy Death Valley Boys.

A soft sob escaped her mouth. Another thing she couldn’t handle was losing Taylor. Terror for his safety once again lashed at her and she shifted the knife into her other hand.

And waited for him to return.

* * * * *

He was risking his life being so close to the intruders who sat huddled in front of a blazing fire beneath the tree shelters, but at least he could see them.

There were two males and two females. No sign of the third male, nor any sign of Jarod and Piper. Either they had left before this party arrived, escaping into the woods, or they were being held in the tree house by the third male.

He recognized their faces. They came from Death Valley. Perhaps this was a hunting party. Or maybe word had gotten out that a male and female had escaped the trip to Death Valley and this party was tracking him and Kayla.

The males spoke in hushed voices to each other—virtually ignoring the females—bringing back memories of his life with the Death Valley Boys and the Slave Uprising. He shuddered as he remembered the day it had all started.

The terrorized screams of naked women being hauled out of their dwellings and forced onto the dusty ground. Laughing males, throwing themselves upon crying females, uncaring of their terror or pleas for mercy.

He’d never taken part in the rapes. He’d tried to stop some of them by yelling and fighting with the males, reminding them this was not the intention of their leader at the time—his friend Jarod.

They’d merely laughed at him.

Subsequently, he and Jarod had been recaptured by the female Cath. She had been one of the females who’d been gang raped…for days. She’d been changed by her experience. Upon her escape, she had turned bitter and evil. She’d begun sending out search parties to hunt down as many males as possible. He and Jarod had been caught, both of them tortured, forced to have sex with Cath.

Jarod had lost his eye, a small payback from Cath. And Taylor’s leg had been broken in several places when Cath had taken a long metal pole to his bound body. But the two of them—along with a friend, Blackie—managed to escape and had taken refuge with the Death Valley Boys.

Taylor came back to the present when a twig snapped lightly behind him. His hand went for the knife in his scabbard and he remembered he’d given it to Kayla. He hoped she was long gone as these males wouldn’t think twice about raping her.

He sensed movement nearby and prepared to crouch lower into the ferns, but the kiss of a knife pressed against his throat.

Shit.
The curse came naturally, although he didn’t like the word. He’d heard it repeated on several occasions, usually when a Hero brother had been angry.

“Not a sound, male. Move to the campfire,” a voice hissed in his ear.

Taylor recognized him. He was a brute who called himself King, but Taylor had never known the male’s true name or from which hub he’d escaped.

Taylor swallowed against the unease clamping around him. He did not worry for his safety, but for Kayla’s. If these males knew he was the one who escaped the breeders with Kayla, they would fan out and catch her.

He made a stab at diplomacy. “I am unarmed.”

“And I am armed. Do as I say.”

So much for diplomacy.

Slowly he stepped through the ferns, treading carefully so as not to startle the party around the campfire. The instant he drew into the firelight, he braced himself as the two males immediately dove for their weapons. The females, on the other hand, did nothing. They both looked at him with blank stares, as if totally uncaring for their safety.

Many of the females ended up that way in captivity. Their loss of freedom and denial of any tenderness toward them by the males turned them into listless beings. Taylor tried hard not to care one way or another about the lost souls, but he could not stem the guilt, the raw pain or remorse for having been a part of the Slave Uprising—which had not gone according to Jarod’s well-laid plan. A plan where no woman was supposed to have been injured in any way.

“Look what the Goddess of Freedom has sent to us.” King chuckled as he shoved Taylor closer to the fire.

Recognition flared in one of the male’s eyes. Samson, if Taylor remembered correctly. “Taylor! Thought you were dead. And what of your friend, Jarod?” he asked.

He seemed genuinely pleased to see Taylor, but these males would easily kill if they chose, no matter how friendly they appeared. The fact he was inquiring after Jarod brought Taylor great relief. This meant his friend and the female had left and were most likely safe.

Most of the males who’d escaped during the Uprising held anger inside their hearts toward the females, but Taylor had been away from Death Valley and the rage for so long now, he’d almost forgotten how easily they did, in fact, hide their anger.

“We parted a long time ago,” he lied.

“Come and sit by the fire. We have females to tend to you.”

The one called King gave him another hard shove, making his weak leg almost collapse as he stumbled to the fire and sat where Samson patted the dusty ground beside him.

“Get this male some food and drink,” Sampson ordered the female closest to him.

Immediately she stood. She had been very young when the males had taken her in the Valley. A queen-in-training. A virgin. Her blue eyes looked haunted now. Her body thin, as if she hadn’t eaten properly.

But these males didn’t care. They ate until their bellies were full and left scraps for their females. Nausea rolled in his stomach as he noticed the thin lines woven through areas of the woman’s body. Knife scars in intricate designs around her breasts, her lower belly and thighs. She disappeared into the darkness without a word.

“Tend to this male’s cock while he waits for his meal,” King ordered the other female.

It was Death Valley tradition for a slave to give service. The females would tend to a guest anytime he pleased or anytime his host wished.

Taylor stiffened as the petite brunette scrambled over to sit beside him. She fared little better than the other female. Her short dark hair was tangled and matted. Her eyes glassed-over as she obediently reached for the strip of his breechclout.

He pushed her hands away.

The males grumbled angrily.

”I would prefer after the meal,” Taylor quipped, trying to keep his voice lighthearted. Truth was, he didn’t want this female touching him—or any female except Kayla.

At the thought of her, frightened in the dark and unfamiliar surroundings, waiting for him to return, a jolt of unease gripped him. He hoped she did not come looking for him. Hoped she obeyed his instructions and began to follow the river. If she remembered how to get to it.

Stop it! She is a strong female and she will do what needs to be done to survive.

“Ah, here is the food,” the third male, whom Taylor didn’t recall, muttered impatiently.

The female served all of them with an abundance of fruits, nuts and dried meat on wooden plates. Plates Taylor recognized as the ones Jarod had fashioned when they had first come to this place. It irritated him, having these nasty males using their dishes, but he maintained a cool outer calm. The Boys would soon ask him questions. Questions he preferred to avoid, but could not.

He ate quickly and quietly, hoping the female hadn’t been instructed to put some sort of drug into his food. They could all be acting, knowing that Taylor was one of the escaped slaves. But he dare not refuse the food as per tradition. Denying food from the Boys was considered ruder than denying the female. The last thing he wanted to do was piss them off. They looked tense enough already.

Three to one, not the best of odds. Then he had to consider the two females, who may have been trained to protect their captors.

They were halfway through the meal when the questions began.

“The Boys were very upset when you and Jarod decided to leave the way you did,” Samson said coolly.

“No one leaves the Boys,” the nameless one muttered angrily.

“You said that right, Dirk,” replied King, his gaze pinned to Taylor. Yes, this one was still very angry. Dangerous. It would be best if he escaped as quickly as possible, but he needed to give Kayla a bit of a head start. That is, if she’d decided to leave already.

“Once a Boy always a Boy. You knew that when we took you, Jarod and Blackie in after Cath and her women had their way with you.”

Taylor said nothing, opting to nod slowly in agreement and pretend he was enjoying the food too much to answer. But the Boys wouldn’t let up.

“Jarod was in Death Valley many days ago,” King let the sentence hang and Taylor tried not to react as a cold chill ripped through him.

Were they telling the truth? Had Jarod gone to Death Valley? And what of the female Piper?

No, Jarod would not go there willingly. Not with her. He must have been captured.

“I’m glad to hear he has found his way back home,” Taylor said, choosing his words very carefully as the three males watched him.

Their faces were partially hidden by the shadows of the night, but the rest of their bodies were illuminated by the fire. Taylor did not like the way they tensed or the flare of hatred in one of the male’s eyes. An eerie shiver slithered through him like a snake, warning him of impending danger.

“He left again,” King replied coolly. “Escaped in the night with a petite female. A female we had eagerly wished to fuck. We would have too had he not had inside help in escaping.”

Relief poured through him. Jarod and Piper had escaped. With luck they would be safely with the Heroes by now, tucked away in a secure shelter in anticipation of the oncoming stormy season. As if nature had tapped into his thoughts, a low rumble of thunder growled a warning far in the distance.

The Boys shifted uneasily at the ominous grumble.

“Why have you strayed so far from the Valley? Do you not know the storms will be upon us soon?” Taylor questioned and bit into a juicy, sweet melon.

“We would ask the same question of you,” King sneered as he grabbed some blackberries and shoved them into his mouth.

Taylor had anticipated this question and was fully prepared. “Have you not heard? A female and a male escaped the Breeders. I’m on my way to the area near the Acid Zone where they were last spotted.”