CARNAL, The Beast Who Loved Me (18 page)

“You first,” Carnal said. Rosie swung her leg over the rear wheel of the bike and climbed off. “So?” Carnal removed the goggles he’d worn to keep the sand out of his eyes.

Rosie couldn’t stop the grin that wanted to break out. “It was fun.”

“Yeah.” He smiled, looking like he clearly enjoyed her pleasure and was trying to remember his first ride.

She looked up at the tower above them. “So this is where the nuclear power plant used to be?”

He followed her line of sight. “Nuclear. Yeah. I guess,” he said as he opened one of the saddle bags. “I brought food.”

From one side he pulled out a blanket. From the other he pulled out a gunny sack and a jar of liquid that looked suspiciously like the hard cider Rosie pulled on tap.

She grinned. “A picnic? I’ve never been on a picnic. Too cool.”

Carnal looked around. “If you’re too cold, we can move out into the sun.”

“Uh, no, I don’t mean that kind of cool. Never mind. This is great. What’d you bring to eat?”

He looked at the sack like he’d forgotten. “Just bread, cheese. I think there are some apple slices or something like that.”

“You don’t know.”

He handed over the sack to free his hands so he could spread out the blanket. “Look and see. Joy put it together.”

“Joy put a picnic together for you and another woman? Is it laced with poison?”

He stopped and stared. “Joy… You know she’s… It’s not like that with her. She’s part of my crew, but she’s not somebody I’m interested in like what you’re thinking.”

“No?”

“No. Look. I like girls and, well, she does, too.”

“Ah. I thought maybe she was kidding about that because I saw you that night at the Commons and…” Realizing her mouth had gotten ahead of her brain, again, Rosie knelt down on the blanket, opened the sack, and peered inside. Sure enough, there was half a baguette, a hunk of yellow cheese, and some apple slices. She thought it was overkill to have cider
and
apple slices, but all in all it was a nice picnic.

“And what?” Carnal flopped down beside her and smiled with a twinkle in his eye. “Were you jealous?”

“What? No!”

“You were. I can tell.”

“You can’t tell that I was jealous, Carnal, because it’s not true.”

“Yes, I can tell. Your heart sped up when I mentioned Joy. It got even faster when you lied about being jealous.” Rosie stared at Carnal thinking she hadn’t known what she was getting into when she agreed to a ride. After all, who wants to date a walking lie detector? “Don’t fret,” he said, tearing off a bite of bread and stuffing it into his mouth. “I was worried that you didn’t like me.”

“And you should be worried about that because the verdict is still out.”

“Okay,” he chewed, still smiling. “Whatever you say.”

“I’ll tell you how you could earn points with me though.”

“Earn points? Where you’re from men have to earn points to be with women?”

“No. Not exactly. It’s just an expression that means you could do something to please me.”

“And if I please you then nothing more becomes something more?” He lay back on the blanket and studied Rosie with a twinkle.

“No promises except that you’d earn points.”

“Not sure I’m getting the part that’s supposed to motivate me, but I’ll play. What is this thing I could do to earn points?”

“Teach me to ride your motorcycle.”

That was the last thing that Carnal was prepared to hear. He stared for a few beats, then seeing she was serious, laughed so hard he had to hold his sides. Rosie waited patiently for the laughter to subside. When it did, he said, “Not in a thousand years,” shaking his head like she was the funniest thing ever.

A half hour later Rosie was sitting on the bike, adjustments in seat height having been made for her smaller frame. She’d listened to Carnal repeat instructions at least ten times and knew she was ready.

“I’m ready,” she said. He looked terrified. “Are you afraid for me or the bike?” He looked from her to the motorcycle like he was trying to decide how to answer. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter.”

When he started to repeat instructions for the eleventh time, she rolled her eyes and took off with a jerk. She barely held on because she hadn’t been expecting the initial burst of speed, even though he’d told her ten times, almost eleven, to ease into it and start slow. Heading straight for one of the towers, she promptly forgot everything she’d heard about how to stop. Just before she hit the wall, she uttered something like, “Eek,” and vanished just as the bike became a pile of junk on impact.

Carnal stood with his mouth open. His attention was equally divided between disbelief that his prized possession had just become a compacted hunk of used metal, concern for Rosie, and astonishment that he might have witnessed a supernatural event unlike anything in myth or science as he knew it. In a bewildering twist of what was possible, so far as he knew, Rosie appeared at his side, seeming none the worse for wear, holding onto the sleeve of his Henley like he would save her from his own impending tirade.

When he looked down at her in stunned silence, she blinked rapidly making the most of the unusually long eyelashes she’d inherited from her father. The last thing that should have crossed his mind was that she was cute, but there it was. He’d proved once and for all that lust not only trumps the best of toys, but miracles as well.

In the midst of trying to force his brain to make sense of the unlikely series of events, his eyes jerked toward a telltale column of rising dust.

“Coming,” he said.

“What?” Rosie asked.

“They’re coming.” He pointed to the dust churning upward on the horizon. She saw his expression shift from shock to panic.

“Rautt?” she said. “Rautt are coming?” While he was looking around, evidently casting about for a reasonable course of action, she decided that fixing a single wrecked machine would be too insignificant, in the grand scheme, to be noticed. “Come on. We’d better go.”

He looked at her like she was crazy. “How? We have no ride home. The. Bike. Is. Broke. They’ll be on us before we can get half a mile from here.”

“The motorcycle? I’m sure it’s fine. Stop playing around and let’s get out of here.”

“It’s not…” He looked in the direction of the bike and saw that it was parked with kick stand in place, without a scratch on it. If anything, it was shinier than it had been when they’d left. Giving Rosie a look, he grabbed her arm, dragging her toward the bike double-time. “If we didn’t have to sound a warning, I’d be interrogating you right now.”

“I’m not into kinky.”

He shook his head and growled, “Get on.”

They shot across the sand toward Farsuitwail, leaving the picnic behind. It took seven minutes to reach the first watch tower, which was still located some distance from the city, so far out that it wasn’t usually manned.

Carnal jumped off the bike, lunged toward the hinged door on the side, and pulled the handle. It had a spring mechanism set to strike flint stone under a fire that had been laid with strips of rubber to create a thick black smoke. Exiled joked that they weren’t sure whether the first warning was the sight of black smoke or the awful stench it made. One thing was sure. Both humans and Exiled would know Rautt were coming when a warning fire had been lit.

As soon as he was positive the fire had caught, Carnal sped them back to Newland. He’d get Rosie to safety and make his way to Farsuitwail with the rest of his people to defend the humans and their city.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The quiet village that had come to feel familiar and comfortable to Rosie was in a state that could only be called barely controlled chaos. Every soul was actively engaged in some manner of preparation or another.

Carnal dragged her off the bike and pushed her in the opposite direction. “Go to the Weavers’ Barn,” he said. “They can use your help taking care of the young.”

Rosie entered just as Serene was exiting in a hurry. She was dressed in leathers and looked more like a warrior than a school principal. “Oh, Rosie, good. Help take care of the little ones.”

With that she was gone. The classes were empty so Rosie continued moving toward the back. The students were all together in the lunchroom. Looking around, she saw that she was the oldest one there. It appeared that the older children were caring for those who were younger.

Looking at the oldest, the level tens, she asked, “What needs to be done?”

One of the girls said, “We’re going to need to feed them in a couple of hours.”

“What’s your name?”

“Razzle.”

“I’m Rosie.”

“I know.”

“Okay. I’ve never cooked for this many people before, but I’ll give it a try. Do you have a count?”

Razzle looked over the group and started counting. One of the level twos dashed across the room.

“Nobody moves until Razzle has finished counting!” One of the level ten boys raised his voice and the kids, looking at him like he was a god, instantly obeyed. He smiled at Rosie, “Hi. I’m Skirmish. Make extra for me. I’m still growing.”

“I’ll try.”

“A hundred and sixteen,” Razzle said, “Counting me. Oh, but not counting you. That would be a hundred and seventeen.”

“Alright. If you’ve got this,” Rosie indicated the small crowd that represented the entire future of Exiled, “I’ll head back to the kitchen and see what’s there.”

“We’ve got this,” Skirmish said. “We’ve done it lots of times.”

“Lots of times,” Rosie repeated, looking around and wondering what it must have been like, living their whole lives at-the-ready. “Are there no other adults who will be staying behind?”

“There are a few. They’ll help get the others away and come after.”

Rosie nodded before moving toward the back. The level two, three, and four children who had gotten used to her when she visited their classrooms called out to her as she passed, smiling, and proudly telling others that they knew the human.

The kitchen was well stocked with baking supplies and shelves of canned goods. That included hams.

When Razzle poked her head in, Rosie asked, “Any restrictions?”

“What do you mean?” Razzle asked.

“Well, is there anything here that I shouldn’t use or shouldn’t use much of?”

“No.” Razzle looked around. “Everything that’s here can be replaced. It’s part of the battle tax.”

“I don’t know about the battle tax.”

“The humans pay us to protect them.”

“Oh. I guess that’s fair.”

“Damn right,” Razzle confirmed.

“Okay. There’s everything I need to make a version of pigs in a blanket.”

“What is that?”

Rosie smiled. “Well, usually it’s a little sausage baked inside bread, but we’ll be using ham instead of sausage.” Rosie pointed to the giant cheese wheel on the wood island. “And adding some of that cheese.”

Razzle nodded. “Sounds good and eating with hands means less clean up.”

“I like how you think,” Rosie said.

“Do you need help?”

“Maybe. Check on me in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay.”

Rosie thought it unfair to expect people in their mid-teens to be responsible for the next generation, but they seemed to be rising to the challenge without complaint and Rosie admired that. At the same age, virtually, she’d been a pain.

Rosie set out necessary ingredients and realized what a job it would be to cook for so many people. When Razzle returned, Rosie asked her to pick out four helpers besides herself and come back quick.

She didn’t have any experience with baking, so, while the boys were getting the fires going in five wood stoves, she called up a memory from a great-grandmother detailing how to make biscuits from scratch and cook them in a wood stove oven. Fortunately the stoves were well constructed for temperature control, though not as exact as modern ovens.

She organized an assembly line and soon the assistant cooks were chatting happily while cutting out biscuits. Once the bread was in the oven, she set up a new assembly line for cutting out single portions of ham and cheese, which would go inside split biscuits when they were ready. When the first batch of biscuits came out of the oven, Skirmish grabbed one off the cookie sheet.