A terminal fuck of torture, she thought, and staggered past it.
“Why?” she asked in a faint voice. “Why would such a thing exist?”
“Snakes,” he responded. “These flowers are not its real reproductive structures. They’re a decoy to protect the tree from the
poslave
, a snake-like creature that feasts on its fruit above.”
Genevieve swallowed and nodded, feeling suddenly awakened from a trance.
They continued for an hour, and she felt herself struggling more and more as her strength abated. She also noticed that the boggy smell of old decay grew more apparent as they were steadily treading in more and more standing water. Then Azaes stopped and turned to her. Beyond a long cut bank where he stood and in the direction of where they were going lay a swamp for as far as she could see. Covered by a mat of small floating plants, it surrounded the great
vishnas
like moats. A fine mist rose like steam from the green mat and floating debris that looked like solid turf except that she glimpsed pockets of black water beneath.
“Is this the only way to get there?” she asked.
“The only expedient way,” he answered gloomily. “It will save us hours of walking, hours we need to get there before dark.”
“What about the
kuiper
creatures?”
He grunted dismissively and said in a tone of mild contempt, “This is not an
igapo
. This is a stable and permanent ecosystem.” He pointed to the trees in the swamp. “Look around. There are a diverse group of lower canopy and understory trees and shrubs. They wouldn’t be here if this were an
igapo
. The severity of the flood would have taken them out, leaving pretty much only
vishna
. Also notice that, apart from the
vishna
, most of the trees have stilted buttresses. They’re used to having their feet wet all the time.
Igapos
are violent phenomena that sweep into a lowland infrequently with devastating effects. They occur further down in the lowlands. The river valley near the
Atlantis II
is such a place.
That’s
where you’ll find
kuipers
.”
She nodded understanding, but still eyed the swamp with misgiving.
Then he fixed intense eyes on her. “Listen, Genevieve, the swamp should not be too deep to traverse. But it is very dangerous. It is a toxic soup from which you will never emerge if you aren’t careful. Whatever you do, don’t fall into it and swallow the vile water. It concentrates the
vishna
essence. People are said to succumb to their most desperate sexual fantasy and remain forever trapped, preferring to drown in the swamp and in their own fantasy.”
Genevieve swallowed hard and surveyed the boggy water. He’d just described the ultimate
jack
, a terminal
jack
. The kind
jackers
fantasized about.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine,” Azaes assured her. “The toxic water does eventually seep through your pores, but that’s a very slow process. We’ll be out of here before that happens. Only drinking it would give you an instant reaction.”
“That’s comforting,” she muttered. Azaes hadn’t noticed the open wound on her leg. Wouldn’t it act like an orifice? Would it be like drinking the water? And speaking of orifices, what about her vagina? “How deep did you say it was?”
“I didn’t,” he replied tersely. “Come on. Just move slowly and keep your balance,” he insisted with some impatience at her hesitation, and abruptly stepped in, immersing himself to his knees. The weedy mat opened up briefly, revealing black water that bubbled up a methane stench. Then the floating mat closed back around his legs. He waded slowly out slowly, leaving a momentary trail of black water.
She calculated that the slimy water would come up to her thighs, and then took a deep breath and stepped down from the overhanging bank. Bracing for what lay in the murky water, she plunged into the cold and inhaled sharply. Her feet sank through soft muck that squelched through her toes. She looked down at the murky bog water that washed around her up to her thighs just shy of her crotch. Her wound flamed with a sharp pain, which muted to a tingle. Within seconds she felt her breaths stutter with excitement and she took several stumbling steps toward Azaes, focusing on his backside. God! His butt was sexy! Deliciously firm, moving like a panther, muscles in sinewy motion as though choreographed in a ballet and she imagined his huge dick swinging with each step. She just had to fuck him!
As she waded with reckless steps, closing the distance between them, a violent tug on her wounded leg sent her tottering with a shriek of panic. She jerked to regain her balance and saw a pale hand emerge from the muck!
She yelped as it seized her injured leg. Then a man’s face emerged, bog-covered and eyes snapping open, burning into hers. God! It was Heller! Or what he’d changed into. He rose partially out of the bog, his wretched face twisted with insane desire.
“Genevieve!” Azaes cried, splashing toward them.
Heller seized both her legs and yanked hard. She fell backward with a shriek, hitting the water with a smack and submerging into inky cloying blackness. Heller scrambled on top of her, like an alligator drowning its prey, and convulsed over her body, turning so he faced her legs. His hard penis pummeled her face like a bludgeon and he dug his face into her crotch, teeth biting her labia. She wanted to scream but clenched her teeth instead. He pressed her deep into the muck in the inky blackness, frantically prying her mouth open with agitated fingers, then shoving his cock into her mouth. God!
She
was his sexual fantasy! His dick was like a piece of metal, grinding into the back of her throat, gagging her. He drove into her in great spasms, pushing her down into bottomless muck. He mauled her body with probing hands, thick mouth and tongue invading her vagina as his cock pounded into her mouth. Somehow, between the pounds she inhaled water.
God! Where was Azaes? He was letting Heller rape her while she drowned!
She felt something hard against her back and suddenly realized that it was the rifle. In a last adrenalin surge, she writhed to grasp it, but Heller pushed her down further and she couldn’t bring it round. God! She was blacking out.
Her left arm was pinned hard by his thigh but her right arm scrabbled for the knife on her right hip. She ripped it out of its holster. It tore free and she shoved it up, straight into Heller’s stomach. He just shuddered then convulsed on her more violently. It made no difference! But he’d shifted his weight and her left hand, half numb, fumbled for the pistol. It slid out and she dug it into his flesh and shot. Several times.
She felt the concussion push her further into the muck as Heller suddenly lifted off her. But she couldn’t rise up from the thickness
—
the darkness was taking her.
A strong arm hauled her out and she tasted sweet air. She seized in breaths in a great inhale, then coughed out water. Azaes gruffly set her against a large
vishna
buttress and immediately swung out hard at Heller, who’d staggered upright like a slimy green monster, stiff penis poking out of him like a piece of wood. Blood spurted out of his chest from her shots at close quarters, but his eyes blazed with a kind of living madness. Azaes struck him hard in the face with his fist. Genevieve heard a crack as Heller grunted and dropped like a stone, totally submerging himself in the bog water that boiled with red.
Satisfied that Heller wasn’t getting up, Azaes turned, wheezing, back to Genevieve and seized her by the shoulders as she sank weakly into the muck. His eyes sparkled wide with urgency.
“You drank some of it, didn’t you?” He was black and green with muck and tiny plants and Heller’s blood was spattered over his face.
She nodded, still breathing hard. “What happened to him?” she stuttered, as waves of uncontrollable shaking overwhelmed her. Was she in shock?
“The
vishna
force took him.” He sighed deeply and inspected the hand he’d used to strike Heller. “Like I told you, he succumbed to it and is trapped under its spell, until he starves to death or drowns.” Azaes contemplated miserably for a moment, gaze straying to where Heller had sunk. The bog’s floating weeds were already covering the inky red-tinged water in a veil of green, like a chasm closing. “I suppose it’ll be the latter…” His face darkened. “Another milestone to put on your list of many,” he said in a tone of disgust, turning to glower at her. “Is there no end to the havoc you’re causing? This is the second pledge you’re broken,
I’ve
broken,” he ended, glancing miserably down at his shaking hands again. “You humans are so violent, so…” he trailed then added in a hollow voice, “I’ve never struck a man before.”
“Hold on, bucko,” she snapped back in a sharp voice she was finding progressively harder to use as her body shuddered with increasing violence. “You didn’t kill him.
I
did that.” She waggled the laser pistol she’d somehow managed to hang on to and fumbled it back to its holster. Rage boiled up inside her. The bastard was more concerned about his own act of violence than the violence committed on her. Did he even care? Damn it, she’d just been raped and almost killed and all he could think about was how he’d punched someone in the face!
“I tried to get him off you,” he said quickly, as if reading her mind. “But he possessed unnatural strength. I couldn’t budge him. I’ve heard about this phenomenon before. Under the influence of the swamp, infected Eosians were said to acquire supernatural strength and uncommon obsessive behaviour.”
“What about me?” she prompted. She’d drunk some of the murky bog water. Actually, she’d consumed quite a bit, she thought desperately as her whole body began to convulse violently, drawing out gasping sounds from her. She could barely speak. The words came out in spasms between intense waves of shaking. “What’s happening to me?”
He must have seen the fear in her eyes
—
his expression softened, even though his words were brutally honest, “The
vishna
drug is firing your blood with a feral yearning you have little recourse to defy. It calls you with unrelenting force to your insane fantasy. The drug is almost sentient, acting like a virus, interacting with and possibly damaging your nervous and hormonal systems in the process. The damage may be irreversible.”
“Oh, G-g-god!” She gasped as he helped her out of the bog to sit on the buttress. She had a sudden vision of Heller’s insane convulsing face and fell into violent uncontrollable shudders. As she tucked her body into a fetal position, Azaes moved toward her to fold his arms around her then started back.
“Sacred Universe!” he exclaimed, noticing her wound for the first time. “Did Heller do this to you?”
She shook her head, trying to contain her convulsions. She stammered between gasps, “I caught a residual wave from the laser cannon that killed your scree.”
“You should have told me!” he yelled, looking furious again.
She tried to retort but her mouth couldn’t form the words and panic surged through her. Why was he always so angry or annoyed with her? She wanted to scream at him in fury and cry in his arms at the same time.
Something in her expression softened his and he pressed her close to him, trying to absorb her convulsions. “I won’t let you succumb, Genevieve.” His voice suddenly tender, almost afraid. “I won’t let the swamp take you.” To her surprise, he lifted her into his arms and began wading through the swamp, carrying her shuddering body with difficulty. “Don’t listen to its call, Genevieve. Stay with me.”
He kept glancing at her, eyes deep with concern, as she trembled in his arms, mind dazed in a feverish mixture of drugged pleasure and garish trepidation. Apart from the giddiness and the shakes, she came to realize that she felt no other apparent effect. To her amazed confusion, she had no inclination to submit to its spell, like she had in Zac’s clearing when she had first come to the jungle. She did not feel it calling her to some fatal fantasy, like Azaes had portended. Could it be that this was because she was already living it here with Azaes?
He waded on in silence, each step releasing bubbles from the disturbed bottom and emitting a cloying stench. He glanced periodically at her to make certain she was all right. Nestled in his arms, she fell into a series of swoons, awoken from them only by an extremely violent tremor. Eventually, the shuddering grew less extreme as her mind calmed and she actually fell asleep.
She awoke suddenly when Azaes lost his balance and stumbled, almost dropping her and splashing black water ahead of him. But he managed to regain his balance and continued to walk, panting out his stress. Genevieve noticed that his breathing had grown laboured as he negotiated the hummocky soft bottom. It was also then that she realized that her mind was clear and she no longer trembled. In fact, she began to grow self-conscious lying in his arms.
Within a short time he made it to higher ground and Genevieve struggled free. To his sudden look of concern, she assured him, “I’m okay. I can walk now. We’re out of the swamp. And I no longer have the shakes.” In fact, she felt quite energized. She wondered briefly if it was that strengthening effect of the
vishna
that Azaes had mentioned. But she didn’t much care, so long as she could continue.