Wasteland
by Becca Abbott
Part 9
"Well, there it is," said Guy, stopping the bike. He swiveled around in the seat. The Blondie sat behind him, body pressed close, arms around his waist. No, not a Blondie. Raoul's long, wavy hair was now as black as Guy's.
"The Wasteland," agreed the Elite flatly. He looked away over the brightening expanse of broken towers and desolate, empty streets. They were parked on the high curve of a empty highway on the edge of Ceres. The sun was just clearing Midas' skyline behind them. Its light was warm on the side of Guy's face. For a while, locked in Raoul's condo, he'd wondered whether he'd ever feel it again.
Everything was happening so fast. One minute, he was a naked pet. Now he was back in blue jeans and black leather, a powerful bike under him and the wind in his face. He could almost forget that there was still a Pet ring around his cock and that the owner sat right behind him, looking for all the world like a gorgeous young mongrel.
"You sure you want to do this?" he asked finally, moved by some unexpected impulse for fair play. "I'll tell you right now, Blondie, if I see a chance to get away from you, I'll take it."
"I'm sure you'll try," came the Blondie's amused purr. "I look forward to it."
Raoul's warm lips and breath against his ear sent electricity straight up Guy's spine. He bit back a curse and jerked his head away. Kicking down on the gear, he sent them rocketing forward again. A large section of the overpass had broken away, leaving only a narrow, precarious ribbon of pavement. He heard a hiss of alarm. The strong arms around his waist tightened involuntarily. For one terrifying, exhilarating moment, there was nothing on either side of them but eighty feet straight down. Damn! He'd missed this!
"Hold on!" Guy shouted gleefully, hunching over the handlebars. Ahead, the overpass had collapsed completely, leaving a twenty-foot gap between them and relative safety of the next section.
"There's nothing there!" shouted Raoul. Guy grinned fiercely. He jammed back hard on the accelerator, feeling the powerful engine surge. Then they were flying, Raoul's arms like a vice around him, face pressed against his shoulder.
They landed on the other side. The bike hit, bounced, hit and bounced again. Guy fought to keep them upright and succeeded. With barely a break in their speed, he kept going. On down the descending overpass they raced, dodging the rusted hulks of long-abandoned cars, broken masonry and fallen street-lamps until they were on the ground again.
"Stop the bike."
Guy stopped. Pain took him then, sharp, blinding, shooting up from his groin. He cried out, doubling over, then slipped from the bike to sprawl gracelessly on the road. For several long moments, Guy couldn't see, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Then the pain was gone and he was lying, soaked with sweat, every muscle twitching in reaction.
"Don't ever do that again, you son of a bitch!" Raoul stood over him, fists clenched at his side. Long black hair was a messy and wind-tossed around his broad shoulders. Blue eyes blazed in his pale face. He looked – really good.
"Why'd you do that?" Guy gasped, making it to his knees before dizziness held him still again.
"You're insane."
He'd bitten his tongue. Guy swallowed blood and glared up at Raoul. "Sorry," he muttered. "Didn't mean to scare you."
Raoul swore again and looked up the littered, deserted street. Guy hauled himself back to his feet and waited for his heart to quit lurching and thumping all over the place. God damn it, he hated the fucking ring.
"You enjoyed that?" Raoul asked. He sounded moderately calmer.
Guy wiped blood off his lips. "Yeah."
Raoul stared back at the broken overpass.
"It's a rush," added Guy. "Like flying."
Raoul gave him a long, unreadable look and Guy shrugged. "Okay," he muttered. "I'll go slow from now on."
He half expected Raoul to take over driving, but the Blondie just nodded and waited for him to get back on the bike. Then, Raoul's arms around him again, they kept going.
The sun dropped below the horizon and the sky showed indigo. Guy slowed the motorbike and stopped. The engine died away, leaving an echoing silence. Raoul got off and stood, stretching the kinks from his back and legs. His pet ran a hand through tangled hair and looked around warily. "We need to find some shelter. Some place defendable."
"The bike has adequate lighting. We should continue."
"Continue where? We're almost at the spot where Jupiter last located them. Has your tracker picked up a signal yet?"
Raoul looked down at the unit in his hand. "No."
The computer chip implanted in all Elites had been removed from Iason, making it impossible to find him by standard methods. All Elites, however, had an identical "signature" programmed into their DNA that emitted random pulses of electrochemical energy. The pulses were too weak to be detected by satellite, but they could be intercepted by the device Jupiter had given him. If there was another Blondie in the Wasteland within twenty miles of them, they would know it.
"Look, Raoul – I want to find Riki as bad as you want to find Iason, but trust me. We don't want to be out in the open when the sun goes down. Not around here."
"We go on."
"Fine," snapped the mongrel with a quick, angry shrug. He turned back to the bike. "What do I know? I'm just a stupid pet."
Raoul stared at him, then around at the ruined city. Shadows gathered behind broken walls and in debris-filled alleys. "There's no one around."
Guy laughed, a harsh ugly sound. "Think so?" He reached for the helmet, something he'd ignored until now. "At least your body's between my back and what's out there," he muttered. "Let's go."
Then, as he was climbing onto the bike again, Raoul saw movement from the corner of his eye. When he looked around, there was nothing there. He swore softly and got back off. "All right," he said reluctantly, the hair on the back of his neck standing straight up. "We'll stay. Where?"
Guy looked around. "There," he said, pointing to a building with a second story still standing. "We may have to fight for it."
"What?"
"It's defensible," replied Guy calmly, "and around here, that's valuable. Hope you're a good shot."
Raoul smiled tightly and nodded.
With the mongrel walking the bike, they crossed the street and made their way down an alley between that building and its collapsed neighbor. There was an open doorway, deep gloom beyond. In spite of himself, apprehension crawled up Raoul's spine. The mongrel, however, after hesitating in the doorway, pushed the bike through. Raoul hurried after him.
Flicking on his lamp, Guy held it up. The skeletons of walls remained, ancient concrete block. There were holes in the ceiling, but not many. Raoul, gun in hand, followed the mongrel through litter-choked rooms. The Blondie saw evidence of other transients – rusting metal trash cans blackened from fire, discarded food containers, rotting bits of clothing.
"Where are we going?"
"Looking for the stairs."
They found them a few minutes later. Guy stopped. "I don't suppose," he said finally, "that you'll give me the gun and let me go up and make sure it's all clear?"
Raoul's lip curled. Guy grimaced. "Stay with the bike," he said, and set foot on the first step.
"You're not going alone."
"If someone doesn't watch the bike, I promise it won't be here when we get back," retorted Guy.
Something creaked. Raoul caught his breath, looking up. Guy's body stiffened. Without another word, Raoul nodded and hunkered down beside the machine.
"Turn out the light," said Guy. "You're a sitting target – and keep alert," he said, and disappeared up the steps.
Raoul waited, his back against the wall. He still could not quite believe he was really here, doing something best left to soldiers or bodyguards.
A sound from above made him look up sharply. There was a crash followed by the shrill, unmistakable whine of an energy beam, then a heavy thud. Raoul got to his feet, gripping his weapon tightly. Footsteps sounded above, growing closer. Grimly he set his back to the wall and aimed the gun into the darkness above.
"Raoul?"
The Blondie sagged in relief. "What was all that?"
The tall, lean shadow that was Guy came down the steps. "All clear," said the mongrel in satisfaction. "C'mon. Let's get the bike upstairs."
"What?"
"I told you. Leave it unattended and it'll be stolen." Guy's voice took on a mocking note. "What's the matter, Blondie, too heavy for you?"
Raoul swore. Bending down, he yanked out the ignition and the drive processor. He shoved the latter at Guy. "The bike's useless without these," he said shortly. "Let's go."
The mongrel shrugged, "Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you," and turned, going back up the stairs. At the top he paused and turned on the lamp. The illumination threw his features into sharp relief. "Watch your step."
Raoul flinched, saving himself at the last second from treading on the body that lay sprawled across the sagging corridor floor. Dead eyes stared up at him. There was gaping hole in the creature's chest. Biting back a curse, Raoul stepped over it and followed Guy to the end of the hall. A door stood ajar. It was heavily reinforced with pieces of wood and sheet metal hammered to it. Guy kicked it all the way open and, with an exaggerated bow, ushered the Blondie inside.
Raoul bit off the exclamation of disgust. The place stank. More sheets of plastic and metal covered the walls, replacing plaster that had long since moldered away. A heap of old mattresses occupied one corner. A table with three legs, the empty corner propped up on a box, occupied another. Rags, papers, cans and bottles lay thick on the floor. Raoul's boot hit a can, sending it rolling away. Something skittered out of it and ran up the wall, vanishing from sight.
"Nice, huh?" Guy grimaced. "I'll go bring up our supplies."
There were two windows, both boarded up except for a peephole in one. Raoul went to it and peered out. Tanagura was a distant glitter to the north. All around, silvered by the rising moon, lay the old city, silent and still as a tomb. Then he saw movement again. As he watched, a furtive shape emerged from a hole in the wall of a building across the street and hurried off, out of sight.
Hearing Guy's returning footsteps, Raoul turned. The mongrel reappeared, the bike's saddlebags slung over a broad shoulder. He dropped them beside the mattress.
"I'll take the gun you took off the former tenant," said Raoul, holding his own up and steady.
There was an subtle tensing in that long form. "What gun?" asked Guy, turning an innocent gaze on Raoul.
Raoul put his free hand into his pocket and watched Guy whiten. The mongrel held up open hands. "All right! All right!" Guy pulled a battered old blaster from his pocket and threw it on the table with a bitter smile. Raoul took it and dropped it into his pocket. "Eat if you're hungry," he said, and sat down on a nearby box.
Sweeping back some of that shining black hair, Guy leaned forward, dragging the saddlebags over. Opening them, he pulled out a nutrient pack. He tossed one to Raoul, then tore his open. Raoul watched him rip off a corner of the dense wafer with strong, white teeth.
Beautiful, thought Raoul, his own foil packet ignored in his hand. The jeans and leather jacket accentuated the clean lines of Guy's body. Lamplight gilded his profile, accentuating the high cheekbones and deep-set eyes. The mongrel looked up. In the light of the lamp, his face colored and he dropped his gaze. Raoul left the window. It was only a few steps to the table. He lifted the mongrel's bowed head. For just an instant the hard set of Guy's mouth relaxed and his lips parted, then he hissed and turned his head, his entire body stiffening. He took another savage bite of the wafer.
The moment caught Raoul completely unprepared and he found himself holding his breath. Deliberately, he moved away. After a moment, voice steady, Guy said, "I suppose you want the bed."
Raoul gave the filthy pile a dismissive glance. "You're not serious."
"Fine. Then you don't mind if I take it?" There was a note in the mongrel's voice that came dangerously close to insolence. He rose, giving Raoul a challenging look.
Raoul shrugged. "Be my guest."
The Blondie took Guy's vacated seat. Guy threw his long body onto the mattress and turned onto his side, his back to Raoul. Outside, muffled and far away, came what sounded like a scream. After a moment, Guy rolled over. "Oh, yeah. Around here, things can get lively after dark. You'll probably hear some strange stuff. Get used to it."
And with that advice, he rolled back over and was soon asleep.