Mating.
Again and again their bodies met. Thrust after thrust, grinding and coming together with a power that would have seemed violent to anyone watching. But the violence felt good to her. The urgency, the tension. She wanted to pull him down into her womb, to take him prisoner and keep him there. She wanted to own him, mark him, make him hers.
Impossibly, he was moving faster, and that hard part of him, his penis, she thought in satisfaction, was rubbing her in a way that was almost intolerable. She tilted her hips, creating a slightly different angle, and then she exploded for the second time.
Every muscle in her body went tense. Her legs clutched him, making it all but impossible for him to move. She squeezed him so hard he gasped. At first she thought he was in pain, that she'd hurt him. Then he was convulsing over her and she could feel his seed entering her body in hot streams. Again and again he shot into her. It was so satisfying, so amazing. Such a beautiful way to say goodbye to life.
They lay there on the floor, trying to recover for several minutes. Finally she noticed how hard the floor was beneath her. She would have bruises from this, she realized. He had marked her in more ways than one, she thought with a little smile. He kissed her gently on the mouth, then lifted himself just enough to pull her skirts down. His pants were still down around his knees but he didn't seem to care.
He took each of her hands in his, then drew them to his mouth. He kissed her softly, then folded them tenderly together in his right hand. He reached up with his left hand, pushing a few stray locks of hair away from her forehead before dropping it to the blankets beneath her.
"Bethany," he said, his voice a sigh. "That was a wonderful gift. I'm so sorry I have to do this to you."
What? What was he talking about? Before she could even ask, she felt something against her throat.
Something cold, metallic. Sharp.
"Don't move," he said, and cold betrayal filled her. She realized his body was completely covering hers, his right hand imprisoning both of hers with ease. She tried to squirm and felt the bite of the blade against her neck.
"I'm going to tie you up," he said without emotion. “And put you in the storage room. You'll need to stay very quiet. I don't want to hurt you, but if you try and call the guards I'll have to. Do you understand me?"
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she asked.
"Escaping," he replied coolly.
"You're crazy," she whispered, searching his face for some sign this was a bizarre joke. "Do you realize there are at least fifty armed men on this station? They can kill you with their control wands, they don't even need their blasters!"
"Not if I kill them first," he said coldly.
"You're going to kill everyone?" she asked, blood chilling.
"No," he said. "Just those who get in my way. Don’t get in my way, Bethany.”
Chapter Six
The look on Bethany's face as he closed the storage room door burned him. She looked so scared, so confused.
He shouldn't have f**ked her before betraying her.
But she had been willing and he'd dreamt of doing it for so long. She'd felt even better than his dreams, better than anything he could imagine. Even now, as adrenaline for the revolt was pumping through him, he felt a kind of calm and relaxation that he knew could only be there because he'd had sex with her. She might be carrying his child, he thought with primitive satisfaction. He hadn't had a birth control shot since he'd arrived at the mines. The Pilgrims sure as hell didn’t use them.
Of course, she thought she was barren. At least that’s what she’d told Bragan. But her husband had been old. He'd probably barely been able to get it up. Things would be different for them, Jess thought in satisfaction. If they survived this he wanted to have fifteen children with her, all adorable little girls who would grow into beautiful women like their mother. He shook his head to clear away the fantasy. He needed to focus on the task at hand.
He pulled on a pressure suit, carefully checking the seals, then loped down the tunnel to the mine.
Fortunately, the airlock was well out of sight of the mine-shaft head. That, combined with a thin atmosphere barely capable of transferring sound, would make it easy for him to sneak up on the guards.
At least that was the theory.
Once there, all he had to do was overpower and kill them. Easier said than done, he thought, grinning fiercely inside his helmet. But damned if he wasn't going to try. He waited patiently as the airlock cycled, careful to keep his breathing slow and steady. When the light flickered from red to green, he pressed the button opening the door. He was in the tunnel.
Normally he would turn on his head-lamp at this point, but any light would help them to see him coming.
Instead, he stepped out into the pool of light thrown by the airlock and placed his left hand against the tunnel wall. It would guide him to the guards. The airlock door closed behind him and he was alone in the blackness.
There was something about being alone in absolute darkness that made him want to run, to scream.
Perhaps it was instinct, harkening back to the days when his earliest ancestors had prowled through the trees, hunting for food and seeking to hide from predators. The primitive parts of his brain screamed a warning; there was danger ahead. Run.
He forced the thought away. This was no time for fear of the dark. He knew what the tunnel looked like, knew every twist and turn. It didn't matter that the darkness pressed down on him like a living thing. He couldn’t allow himself to think about what kinds of creatures might dwell in such a place, what monsters would thrive in blackness so intense that a man couldn't see his own hands before his face.
Closing his eyes, Jess forced himself to breath deeply and move forward. First the right leg, then the left.
Repeat. He started making progress, and felt a surge of satisfaction when he rounded he first corner.
Only two more turns to go, and then he would be upon them.
By the time he reached the last corner he could see a trace of their light spilling out. It seemed bright to him, and he realized his eyes had so fully adjusted to the blackness that he would be blinded if he wasn't careful. He peeked around the corner, forcing himself to stare directly into the light. His eyes watered, but they adjusted. The two guards were there all right. Sleeping. Sluggo was one of them.
The Goddess must be watching out for him, Jess thought with dark satisfaction. This was going to be easier than he'd dared dream.
Moving steadily and quietly, he came up and stood over Sluggo. He reached out and gently toggled the man's radio to the "off" position, then unlatched his helmet. He woke instantly, and Jess found himself in a deadly, strangely silent struggle. The man gasped for breath, his face turning purple. Jess knew that if he merely held him for several minutes he'd die of asphyxiation, but cutting his throat would be far more humane.