Chapter 9

Laura woke alone, and she should have been glad, especially since she knew he'd never come to bed at all.

Which meant she'd not woken at any point wrapped around him. Not had that warm comfort she'd enjoyed two nights in a row.

She'd barely woken when Nikki barged in. "You're up. Good. Get moving. You need to be ready to go within the next thirty minutes."

"Where am I going?"

"Lucky you, the boss found a buyer. You're getting your wish and being sold back to the Enclave."

The elation she'd expected never happened. Instead her stomach balled into a fist. "I can't wait." The words soured on her tongue as they emerged.

"Idiot," Nikki huffed. She stomped out of Axel's room, and Laura didn't have much choice but to follow.

Nikki brought her to the privy area first, offering her a shower in the gray water, which she still refused. Urinating in the contamination was one thing. But actually pouring it over her body? She wouldn't risk it. She made do with the potable water she poured on a cloth she'd tucked in her sleeve. She washed herself as best she could, feeling the grime accumulating nonetheless. At least she'd had her robe washed the day before. The only reason she wore it after was because she'd seen it go through a hot blower, hot enough to kill any contamination that might have lingered.

It was when she emerged that Nikki thrust a bundle of clothes at her. "You might want to change."

"No thanks." She went to walk past, and Nikki blocked her path, again shoving the garments at her.

"Why are you being so stupid? Take the clothes. Traveling in a skirt will be shitty. Bring the dress with you and change into it later."

The idea had merit, as it would keep the gown somewhat clean. "Fine."

She begrudgingly took the offer and changed. She tucked her balled dress under an arm and felt quite conspicuous as she emerged. Her hips were wider than Nikki's, making the fit snug around her lower body. She also wore a blouse with a jacket over it.

Best of all, Nikki gave her boots. Worn, but they covered her feet better than the tiny slippers that had grown grimy in the two days she'd been here.

"You almost look like a Wastelander," Nikki remarked when she emerged.

Laura's nose wrinkled. "I should hope not, or the Enclave guards might shoot me on sight." Only as she said it did she realize the implication.

Nikki's face hardened. "Some of the people they shoot are family members and friends."

"I'm sorry." An apology rendered too late.

Nikki exited the privy area, and Laura could only follow, wondering why she felt so bad about what she'd said, so she used her hot logic to fight the shame. It wasn't her fault the domes protected their citizens. If they didn't want to be shot as marauders, then perhaps they shouldn't be stealing in the first place.

Breakfast proved quiet, for her at least. Nikki didn't look at her once as she ate. Axel had yet to make an appearance. Around her, people went on with their own lives. Much like the Creche, no one noticed her. The only difference being no one expected anything of her. She had no job. She appeared to be the only one, as everyone one else seemed to have their own purpose.

Nikki's task appeared to be that of reluctant guard. She'd probably be happiest when Laura left.

To her surprise, Laura wasn't brought to the truck she'd arrived in but another vehicle. Its tires were big and fat with deep treads. The body was made of tubular bars over which they'd welded sheets of metal. Axel was bent over checking out the undercarriage as they approached. He rose and wiped his hands on a rag. "Is she ready to go?"

"Yes, but where's the others?" Nikki asked. "I thought Gunner and the twins were heading out with you."

"They'll join me before the drop. They're going to run a wider berth on the bikes."

"So it's just you and the Madre." Nikki's glance bounced between them.

The fact she pointed it out made Laura wonder if there was something wrong with it.

Especially when Nikki said, "I should go with you."

"You're needed here. There's too many of us out of Haven right now. With the Enclave's soldiers sniffing so close, we need all the extra bodies we can manage keeping watch."

"If that's the case, maybe you should stay. Make the deal later."

His face hardened. "I won't change my mind." He turned from Nikki and took note of Laura, his gaze tracking her head to toe before returning to her face. "You look like - "

"A proper marauder, I know. But rest assured, this changes nothing." She said it almost defiantly.

"Good because there is no backing down."

Laura thought Nikki spoke to her when she said, "You'll regret this."

But it was Axel who replied, "It's what she wants. And we need the gemminar they promised."

A whole gemminar? Even Laura knew those were valuable. Nice to know someone wanted her.

Nikki surprised her by suddenly grabbing her in a hug and whispering, "Be strong. And know that if you ever decide to leave, you can always come back."

As if she'd ever voluntarily leave a dome. She planned to take a long decontamination shower the moment she got back.

"Get in." Axel gestured as Nikki released Laura.

She felt kind of dazed, her heart pounding, and trepidation filled her. They were about to leave this building underground, go out into the Wasteland in a vehicle that seemed much less sturdy than a truck with a man she had mixed feelings about to a place about which she knew next to nothing.

Yet what other alternative did she have?

She sat in the strange vehicle, and the door slammed shut, sealing her in. A moment later, Axel filled the seat beside her, his large presence drawing her eye.

There was a scarf around his neck, metallic appearing in texture. Goggles sat atop his head, his hands were covered in fingerless gloves, and a long-barreled weapon was holstered in the door of the vehicle.

"Ready?" he asked.

She could only nod.

"Before we go, you have to put this on over your eyes." He handed her a scarf similar to his.

"Why?"

He sighed. "Because you can't see the location of Hill Haven for starters."

"And what's the other reason?"

"Dottie handed it to me this morning and said you were to wear it."

She glanced at the fabric, recalling the old lady she'd spent the afternoon with. Not much was said as the needles clacked, but she recognized the swath as the one Dottie was working on the day before.

"Even if I could see, it's not like I could find my way back."

"Are you going to put it on, or do you require my help?" he snapped.

"With your disagreeable nature I can't see how anyone put you in charge," she grumbled as she wound the scarf around her head, wrapping her eyes but leaving her nose and mouth clear. "How's this?"

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"That's a useless test given I could intentionally lie."

"True. Perhaps we need another test."

The soft words sounded close. She turned her head side to side, trying to sense if he'd moved.

Why would he move closer?

She held still. Straining.

Tense.

So tense that when the tip of his thumb brushed her lower lip, dragging fabric over it, she gasped. "Don't touch me." Because she couldn't handle, let alone understand, the heat that pulsed between her legs when he did.

"Don't remove the scarf until I say so." The words emerged gruff.

She sensed him moving away and wondered how she'd not realized he was so close. His body heat faded, and she sat with her hands in her lap, hearing the gentle hum as he started the engine, the electrical whine indicating they were leaving.

It was odd and frightening to not see and yet know she moved. He stopped only once, and she heard him say, "Don't leave the door open long after I'm gone."

"Sure you won't wait to leave? I don't like the look of the ground," said a voice she recognized as Vera's.

"We'll be fine. We just had a mist overnight. I doubt it will return that quick."

Mist? What mist? She wanted to ask and yet couldn't find the breath as her heart hammered. This was really happening. She was going into the Wasteland with a veritable stranger. A confirmed marauder. A possible Deviant. He didn't fear what was out there, and yet she did.

"Calm down. Breathe." The order came slow and measured. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

"The air is toxic."

"Only in certain places and we'll avoid those."

"There's danger out in the Wasteland. People die." It was drilled into her at a young age that to leave the dome equaled death.

"People die everywhere. Inside, outside. You can't hide when your time comes."

"Not reassuring," she muttered, her fingers clenching and unclenching. Inside her something pulsed weakly. The ache in her head was mostly gone, and yet she still felt as if there was a pressure inside.

"Wasn't trying to reassure you. Life is hard. And then you die."

"Do you believe there is something after death?" she asked, clinging to his voice, the only anchor in the jostling dark behind the scarf.

"No. I am going to guess you do."

If she were still in the Creche, and he were a tawnt or a ptmerr, she might have lied. But she sighed as the truth emerged past her lips. "No, actually I don't. Why would there be some kind of great afterlife when this one is such a disappointment?"

The blurting out of her bitter belief silenced her. Silenced him, too, because he didn't say anything for a moment.

When he did, it came softly. "Sometimes you need to find purpose for life to have meaning."

"I had a purpose. Clean up after the children and get them ready for the Academy."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"No one enjoys it." Which wasn't entirely true. Some in the higher ranks of the Creche obviously did. But down on the bottom. . . "We serve because that is our duty."

"To who?"

"To Merr. The Creche. Our charges. The Enclave."

"Do you actually care about any of them?"

The query stumped her. "What does caring have to do with anything?"

"Caring is everything."

"Is that why you're in charge of all those people?" she asked.

"I'm in charge because those assholes think they're funny. They'd be perfectly fine without me," he grumbled.

She had to wonder. Despite not seeing him much, she'd listened. Learned. Axel was not only well regarded; he was practically revered. From the bits and pieces she'd heard, he had a hand in saving many of those living in that underground bunker.

A Deviant hero. If a reluctant one.

"How long must I wear this thing?" she complained.

"Until I say so."

She leaned back against the seat, feeling restless. More restless than the day before. More energetic, too. Unlike the lethargy she'd experienced immediately after leaving Merr and the meeting that changed her life.

Almost as if she'd been drugged and it had worn off.

She tried to sleep, the hum of the engine lulling her, but she snapped awake when he cursed. "Fuck."

"What's wrong?"

"Something in the mist is tracking us."

"What?" Despite not being given permission, she tore the scarf away from her eyes and glanced out the window. A gasp escaped her. "Is that smoke?" It swirled around them in all directions.

"Not smoke. It's the mist."

"What causes it?" She glanced at him. His gaze was wary, intent on the foggy world outside.

"No one knows why it appears. It just is."

"Vera implied it was dangerous."

"It is. It started appearing a few weeks ago. Usually it only happens every few days. Never within hours."

The remark had her hugging her torso as she glanced out the side window and tried not to shiver as the fog rolled against it, forming strange shapes. Some of them appeared to have fingers that crept along the glass, seeking seams it could penetrate.

"Is it poisonous?" Because she didn't think this vehicle was built to resist that kind of intrusion.

"Not that we know of."

The claim horrified her, but he grinned.

"Relax. We're safe inside the buggy. The mist itself is not toxic. We should come to the end of it soon."

Except they didn't. Eventually the humming power of the engine faded, and he cursed as they slowed.

"Why are we stopping?" she asked.

"Because the mechanism we use to switch from electric to oil-running engine is broken."

The swirling mist appeared thicker all of a sudden, sucking at their tiny contraption, tearing at it with shadowy fingers as if to pry the metal sheets apart. He shoved at a lever and then pressed a button. Nothing happened.

"Fuck me."

He slammed the level back and forth and jammed the button. Still no comforting rumble.

"The gear shifter is stuck again. I'll have to get out and give it a good whack."

"Out there?" she squeaked.

"Yes, out there. Unless you'd like to remain parked here?"

Not really. "Hurry."

He didn't reply as he swung open his door and got out. The fog eagerly sifted in, and despite his claim it was safe, she held her breath until it dissipated. It left behind a smell, though, pungent and earthy.

Through the windshield she could barely see him through the shifting fog as he lifted the hood over the engine. There was a thump as he worked on getting them going.

"Give the engine a try," he yelled.

She glanced at the button. Simple enough. She pushed it and could have sighed with relief when there was a distinctive rumble.

"It's working," she shouted unnecessarily.

He slammed the hood back down and yet paused instead of hustling back. His body was bulky enough to be easily seen through the mist.

A target for the creature that pounced!