Second Chances (70 page)

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Authors: Chris Hechtl

BOOK: Second Chances
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“Ooooh, I remember now. That was why no one noticed when you screamed for help?” she asked wickedly as Candy passed them. “You were rather loud,” she said maliciously. “All moaning and groaning for help,” she said as Candy gasped. Candy looked up in surprise as Mitch ducked away blushing furiously.

“You are...oh,” he said shaking his head. Sandra grinned at him mischievously, tongue flicking the back of her front teeth. She ran her tongue over her lips slowly. He shivered, knowing that look. She wasn't particularly hungry, but he knew the feline predator in her nature would come out eventually. “Come on honey; I can't have sex. That doesn't mean you should go without,” she said huskily, naughtily stroking his chest.

“You are a wicked, wicked woman. And if you think you are going to tie and tease me again for hours and hours, you have another think coming. I've got a
long
day tomorrow, I don't need to have to go through it with an ice pack on my crotch,” he growled.

She giggled. “Pooor baby,” she mockingly teased, eyes dancing playfully. “Ah, come on, I promise it'll be fun,” she said, waggling her eyebrows up at him as she entangled her fingers in his.

He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, controlling his raging hormones with difficulty. She knew just how to push his buttons. Tempting as it was, he wasn't quite ready to play lemming and jump off this particular cliff....again. “Not a chance,” he laughed. “And you're not going to tickle me either,” he growled, keeping her long fingers entrapped with his own. She pouted a bit. “But I do like the idea of some alone time,” he admitted in her ear. “No tricks!” he warned.

She looked at him and then chuckled as he led her back to their room for a little snuggle time.

------*------

 

Three days later the third group left Capital Base to go to Copper Town and then on to the Mountain Village. Tina hugged Sandra and the girls tearfully before they left. They talked quietly as Paul and the others loaded up or said their own goodbyes. Mitch stood by awkwardly letting them have their moment as he cradled his son.

“You'll see them again,” he said to Sandra when the trucks pulled away. “You'll probably end up visiting plenty of times.”

“I know,” she sniffled, walking over to him. “It's just hard to see friends go away though.” He nodded wisely. He forced himself to refrain from teasing her about going to the Mountain Village as a day spa. He was rather proud of himself for showing such restraint, especially since she was so close and rather frisky now that little Tucker had been born and her body had started to return to normal. She tucked herself under his arm and smiled down at their son then walked arm and arm back into their home.

 

Chapter 36

 

Colonel Miles Dunn surveyed his people with pride. Jake was coming along well as a teenager; he was following in his father's footsteps standing beside and slightly behind him. He turned slightly to see the boy then back to the group.

After the brief encounter with the other settlers and the squid aliens, they'd been dropped back into reality. Some hadn't taken it well; others had doubled their efforts to survive and thrive. He understood that. To him the squids were a distraction. Ciara had been happy to see and talk with other people, but he could care less unless they could do something for them.

What bothered him was Chambers. That guy...he shook his head. He wasn't sure what to make of the whole thing. If he hadn't been there to see it with his own eyes,...He closed his eyes and felt the wind and sun on his face as he thought about it. If he'd heard about it back on Earth he would have assumed it had been some idiot's delusion or some cockamamie half ass conspiracy. Now he wasn't so sure. The aliens really were chummy with Chambers. That bothered him. It had bothered him all winter.

They had survived a long hard brutal winter. His ruthless preparations and culling of the herd had allowed them to survive well enough. They'd been thin, but fortunately this time around no one had died he thought. Well, no one that mattered. They'd lost a couple kids in miscarriages, but those were the breaks he thought. The women would get over it, and they could always have more.

When spring had finally come around they had expanded their efforts in exploration, tool making, and farming. They'd also planned for the coming migration with meticulous care. His people hunted and herded the migrating herds aggressively. They were low on ammo, something the colonel was concerned about. They had saved all their brass and he'd worked out reloads with his kit, but he was now perilously low on his supply of primer and powder. Junkyard Joe had rigged up plenty of crossbows and other tools for them to use though. They didn't kill right off though; they usually made the animal bleed to death from running in fright. They had learned to hit the prey from a distance and then getting clear when it went on a rampage.

They'd compensated for conserving ammunition by using their human cunning. He had groups that had dug pit traps lined with sharpened stakes. They had driven animals into them. They used wire traps, pens, anything that worked. Some of the methods were quite brutal but effective. Anyone who had been squeamish had gotten over it when they got their first steak or fajita.

Diego had done a bang-up job with the roundups. He'd also worked with Cedar to cull the predators in the area. Many of the damn things were too smart to get caught, but every one they did get was one less they had to worry about later.

One thing they had plenty of was hide. Hide and bone. Just about everyone had leather clothes or leather goods. Some of it didn't last long, but there was more where that came from, and every month they learned a bit more and got better at treating the material and stitching it together.

They used sea salt to store the excess meat or packed it in root cellars with snow and ice they had saved there. Entire flanks of meat were carefully cut into thin strips and then dehydrated and smoked into jerky as well.

His two pilots the Salazars insisted on flying out at least once a week to scout the area. He tolerated it because somehow they kept the plane in the air despite a lack of parts. They were flying it on that polyp juice. He also didn't mind since the two regularly radioed in reports of where the nearest herds were, what their competition was, and speed and direction of march. That made it easier and a little safer for the hunters to go out and make a kill, no pussy footing around in the hills and savannah’s trying to find a herd. They also radioed in warnings of where predators were so they could avoid them.

He had hoped they'd find a nearby community but so far not much had been reported or the pilots were getting cute and not mentioning other people they saw. He wasn't sure. He didn't need them climbing up on their high horse and pulling that shit; he needed accurate intel. They might have to raid someone or might need warning if someone came to raid them!

He knew it was only a matter of time before Chambers found them. The more he thought about it, the more he resented Chambers and his elevated position. It wasn't fair, the guy had a hell of a head start on everyone else. That bothered him; it bothered him a lot. He had to do something to even the balance out. Maybe even swing it his way, he thought, drumming his fingers on his gun belt.

------*------

 

Anne and Ester seemed flustered by the brat pack so Mitch took a turn. He fielded a Q and A with the kids about one of his favorite subjects, the dinosaurs. Tera eagerly held up her hand and asked about how predators could take down large herbivores. “They are so small! And the big ones...” she spread her hands and then wiggled her fingers.

He nodded. “Well, nature is filled with that sort of thing. I'd tell you the story of David and Goliath, but we'll stick to the natural view,” he said, turning the holographic emitter on.

The kids smiled as he pulled up some video, this time of a moose being chased and then eventually brought down by the wolf. “See, the wolf individually is smaller than the moose. One good blow from the horns or from a hoof could maim or kill a wolf. But when they worked together as a team, as a family, well, the bigger prey didn't stand a chance,” he said just as the moose toppled and the pack moved in.

“And that's how it is with the raptors?”

“And pretty much any predator that uses the pack strategy to even the odds. Even large predators like the Rexes use packs. They use family units, usually a mother and father and their chicks of various ages and sizes. Predators that use pack tactics are smart. scary smart. They will use distractions and other things to win. For instance here with the wolves, they wore the moose down. They can chase a prey for miles, making them exhaust themselves. When the prey stops to fight, that's when things can get ugly so they change strategies. They surround the prey and then hit them from the rear and flanks. A death of a thousand cuts, making the prey bleed out, or they distract them long enough for one of the others to get in for the coup de grace.”

“Um, coo...” Zara wrinkled her nose.

“It's French honey. It means the final blow. The killing stroke.”

“Oh,” Zara said quietly, settling herself.

Jeff nodded. “But what about the alien predators?” he asked.

Mitch glanced at him. The teen winked. Mitch snorted. Jeff had just turned fifteen. He had been in the 4H Club back on Earth. Now he was one of Maggie's best assistants. “Well,” Mitch drawled, leaning against the back of the table. “We're not sure about that. We do know the shark hounds work in packs. Though they aren't above killing and eating their wounded,” he said. The kids made an assortment of faces. He nodded.

“Right. The lobster thing...” he shrugged. “We don't know. What little evidence we have about them is that they are an individual. A bit like a tiger I suppose. Again, we don't know enough about the predators in the winter. Some of them hunt in packs like the dire wolves, but others...” he shrugged.

“But we'll find out eventually?” Sean asked.

Mitch nodded to the eleven-year-old vet student. “Eventually we'll figure it out. When we have time and the resources to investigate.”

“And if we survive the encounter to get it home,” Jeff said in an aside to Sean.

“Unfortunately true,” Mitch said, sobering the group. “Now what else?” he asked, crossing his arms.

He went to his quarters later that evening. Sandra had Tucker; he was fairly certain the two had bedded down for the night. Sure enough after he entered the outer room he noted the lights were dark.

He opened the door and crept in. He shut the door and was instantly attacked by something or someone. She jumped him from behind with a mock growl in the dark frightening him. He nearly hurt her before he realized the hands were Sandra's. He laughed in relief as they play fought. They ended up falling onto the bed in a giggling tangle of limbs.

“Wait, we'll wake the baby,” he said.

“He's with Rozerita. I didn't have the heart to shift him; she'd just gotten him asleep,” Sandra said. “Come on, I'll give you a back rub and then we can go to bed.”

“Not unless you let me give you one afterward,” he said.

“You can give me a foot rub,” she said, shaking her hair out. He sat with her as she propped her feet up next to him. He pulled her right foot over as she talked about her day. He pulled her shoe off and then rubbed, helping her to relax.

When she judged he was going to take all night with one foot she impatiently pulled it clear and then moved her hips so she could drop her left foot into his lap. He merely smiled as he pulled the shoe off, tossed it across the room, then went to work on that foot.

When she'd had enough of the foot rub she pulled her foot clear and then kissed him. “Come on, your turn.”

“But...”

“Butt me no butts bub, or I'll spank yours,” she mock growled.

“Promise?” he asked, leering. She chuckled. She kissed him again, distracting him long enough for her hands to get up under his shirt and pull it up over his head. He shucked the shirt briefly, then went back to kissing her. She rubbed him from the front, then hugged him. “Come on, I want to do this right,” she ordered.

“Okay,” he sighed, deciding the better part of valor was to go along with her whims. When she got in one of these moods he knew better than to argue. Besides, he figured he was going to enjoy it. She got him on his belly and then ordered him to relax. He tucked his arms under his head and did his best to relax as she first pulled his shoes off, then started rubbing the base of his back.

She sat straddling his hips as she worked his back and shoulders over good. She took her time, expertly working him over. She found the occasional knot of muscle and soothed it back down. Her fingers traced some of the scars on his back. There were stories there, only a few she knew about. Some she was sure came from the aircraft accident he'd been in, but others she wasn't so sure about.

He'd been an angel during her pregnancy, supportive and always there with a back rub or willing to drop everything to fetch her a food craving, even in the middle of the night. She didn't buy it; lurking under there somewhere was the mischief maker she'd married. This was one way to bring him out into the open she thought.

When he was lulled into a drowsy relaxed state she leaned forward and pulled his hands up above his head. She scooted up to pin him better, then pulled out the rope she'd hidden under the pillows. A couple wraps and knots and he was tied.

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