Breeding Ground Part 23

Until now.

"There she is," John whispered, inclining his head to the far right of the atrium below.

"Uh huh," Peac.o.c.k murmured. "If we don't get answers listening in on this meeting, then we'll have to resort to drastic measures."

Vlad patted his Laser-5. "I am ready."

All three scientists watched with rapt interest as Fija took to the stage. Women warriors, all of them dressed in their takus-body-plates, bowed as she pa.s.sed by them, then applauded as she ascended to the podium.

Peac.o.c.k frowned. He decided it was too bad that the Amazon was the 100,000,007 A.D. version of a s.e.xist Arab sultan. The woman was pretty. d.a.m.n pretty.

Fija began to speak. It was difficult to hear what was being said from so far up, so the men leaned in closer. Whatever the conversation, it was causing a great deal of fervor below.

"Are you certain she is the one?" one woman asked.

"I am," Fija answered. Her back went ramrod straight. "She pa.s.sed the test. She is Alexandria the Great."

Shouts and cries punctured the air. Fija spoke again, but this time her words were inaudible to the crewmembers listening in from above. The female warriors of the a.s.sembly sounded to be troubled by whatever great announcement their leader had just made.

Peac.o.c.k looked quizzically at the other two crew members. "They think Al's that woman foretold by their prophets?"

"I don't know," John said in hushed tones. "Sure sounds like it, though."

"Ssshhh," Vlad interjected. "Fija is speaking again."

The Amazon's stance was one of authority, her voice booming. "We needs must cross the black waters and find her! Our queen has been stolen by the Xandi and it is up to us, fine warriors, to save her. Without her...we perish. Such has been foretold by the Book of the Dead Prophets and so it is."

Peac.o.c.k closed his eyes against the d.a.m.ning words. His commander, and more importantly his friend, was gone. His worst nightmare had been realized-Alex had been captured. His stomach muscles bunched.

Somehow Commander Frazier had known this was going to happen. He should have listened to his gut instinct two mornings ago and accompanied her into downtown Zala whether she'd wanted his company or not. But it was too late for "if only". Now, along with the other crewmembers, he had to concentrate on finding and rescuing her.

"We know not where the demons' stronghold lies!" a dismayed voice cried out.

"It matters not. We must find Tongor!" Fija countered, causing Peac.o.c.k's eyebrow to hitch. "We can sit here and allow our queen to be murdered at the hands of our mortal enemies or we can take to the black waters and try to find her. As Protector of the Temple, I cannot sit idly by and hope for the best!"

Peac.o.c.k had heard enough. Motioning to the other two men, they quickly and quietly made their way back to the bedchamber they'd been given to share with Alex. He turned to Vlad and John. "Tongor. You heard her say it yourselves."

John nodded. He ran a hand over his five o'clock shadow. "That's Akron, Ohio."

"It was Akron, Ohio," Vlad reasonably pointed out. "We don't know where that region is now any more than those female warriors do."

It didn't matter. Not to Peac.o.c.k. And he knew the other men well enough to realize that it didn't really matter to them either. A promise was a promise and they would be keeping theirs-they would search for Alex until she, or-G.o.d forbid-her corpse, was found.

"You all ready to leave the rabbit hole?" Peac.o.c.k murmured.

The men stood in silence, staring at each other for a suspended moment.

"I think," Vlad murmured, "the most logical a.s.sumption we can make is that the sun still rises in the east and sets in the west."

Peac.o.c.k slowly nodded. "We'll use that as our compa.s.s then."

"I packed and secured our munitions last night." John took one last brief glance around the bedchamber before inclining his head. "Let's do it, bros."

Alex stared at nothing, her eyes unblinking, as she lay curled up in a ball in the back of the cage. She had thought that maybe, just maybe, she could get herself out of this cell quicker if she pretended to be obedient. She had to get out of the dungeon. There was no hope of escaping the Xandi otherwise.

Please find me, Peac.o.c.k. Where are you? John? Vlad? Don't leave me here!

Her teeth began to chatter. Her mind felt close to splintering.

The beast-Malik-had said he would return "on the morrow". He hadn't. Alex had been given no chance to try and convince him, again, that he had broken her to the point of obedience.

Will you come tomorrow?

She was tired, cold, hungry, and oh so thirsty. Her throat was dry and parched. Hunger pangs kept her bowed over, their intensity sharp. Eventually, she knew, they would subside and she would feel nothing.

Then death would come.

The night became morning, the morning afternoon, and another day ticked by at a snail's pace. Alex realized that she could very well die in this cage; she realized it, but no longer cared. He-it-might never come back. This king of demons had merely toyed with her, giving her hope of living where none existed. So be it. If he meant to starve her, she prayed the end result came mercifully soon.

Every second felt like an hour, every minute like a day. For the first time in what she had once hoped to be a long life, Dr. Alexandria Frazier, commander and captain of the Methuselah, prayed for death.

"Let it end," she whispered, her throat so gravelly she could barely speak. Her lips were dry and parched. "Please just let me die."

She s.h.i.+vered from where she lay curled up in a ball on the red earthen floor, her arms wrapped around her up drawn knees, her eyes unblinking. She was cold, hungry, and broken-at last broken.

Just as he had planned. Just as he had always wanted.

He kept her in a cage, naked and half-starving, like a neglected animal in a zoo. Every day her will to resist him grew weaker and weaker. Every day the hunger gnawed at her belly until the pangs felt like sharp talons clawing at her gut.

She was weak. So f.u.c.king weak. She needed nourishment-food and water. Oh G.o.d, how she fantasized about water trickling down her dry, parched throat...

She would never be given water unless she did what he wanted.

No, she thought in horror. How can I let that...that...thing touch me? How can I-

"I would have your answer," he purred.

She closed her eyes against the sound of his voice. She was so frail that not even her hearing worked as acutely as it once did, for she hadn't realized until he'd spoken that he'd approached the cage. She could feel his devil's-eyes on her, though, just like always. Coiled up in a ball with her back to him, she still knew the precise moment when his eerie golden gaze flicked to her b.u.t.tocks...and then onward to the folds of flesh visible between her legs.

That flesh was what he wanted. That and a whole lot more. He wanted things from her that were so sick and frightening they didn't bear dwelling on.

"Answer me," he hissed, "or I leave you here for another night."

By the morning she would be dead. And escape would be a moot point. Her body was so d.a.m.n weak...

"Yes," she whispered. She closed her eyes tighter, feeling ill. "I've just consented to being the devil's wh.o.r.e."

His depraved laughter echoed throughout the underground cavern, reverberated against the impenetrable bars of the cage. "Much lower than a wh.o.r.e," he murmured. "At least a wh.o.r.e is permitted to live through it."