Chapter Twenty-Three

 

Savich ran through the Kwadacha with purpose. This planet was lusher, richer with life than Kavelt, and as an added bonus, most of its wildlife wasn’t trying to kill him. His sense of direction was unerring, not to mention he could use his nanotechnology to pinpoint every location he had been since landing on Earth. He would be at the cabin in a matter of hours. Then it was playtime.

As he ran he recalled life on Kavelt. It was brutish, savage, and deadly. For centuries he felt it suited his nature. He felt he belonged there. Then he met Tabby, and his world shifted on its axis.

His hands, so used to crushing bones and wielding weapons, often dripping with blood and entrails, had caressed her skin like she was the finest of porcelain. His teeth, often gritted when he delivered a death blow, had nipped her breasts and nub so gently she’d cried with pleasure. The muscles that bunched in his back and legs when he jumped on a scabika had held Tabby’s frail body for hours without leaving so much as a mark. At least until their lovemaking. He winced. Nevertheless, Kavelt belonged in his past. Tabby was his future.

With Kumar’s intervention, the Elders may leave him be. He and Tabby could have a life. A home. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was feeling domesticated. He snorted as he leaped over a fallen tree. The domesticated savage. It had a nice ring to it.

His vision narrowed to laser focus as the cabin came into view. He stopped outside the perimeter and reconnoitered. The place looked and felt empty. He cursed but crept closer.

When Lipton, the head of the Resistance outpost, heard what happened to Tabby, he called Johnson back. Johnson was less reasonable. Of the two, he was most likely to kill Savich without a thought. But Lipton was a shrewd man.

“What will you do for the woman?” Lipton had asked.

“Anything,” Savich responded without hesitation.

“You’ve found our outpost,” Lipton said. “We’re compromised. You report back to your superior, and we’re fodder.”

Savich nodded.

“However, I’m not a stupid man,” Lipton continued. “This girl means something to you.”

“I cannot hide it,” Savich had said. “And I won’t.”

“That’s what I’m counting on. We hold the girl,” he held a hand to stop Savich’s outburst. “In a humane way. Explain everything to her, and you go find these men.”

Savich had clenched his fists, hoping against hope, but said nothing.

“We have radio surveillance. We’ll know if you contact your superiors,” Lipton said. He narrowed his eyes. “The girl disappears to you. I have a network of runners criss-crossing the North American continent. We’ll make sure she is never found by you again.”

“When I return from my,” Savich grimaced. “Errand, then you release her to me?”

“Wouldn’t that be somewhat stupid of me?”

“You would have my word as a Krinar.”

Lipton shrugged. “Not good enough.” He leaned forward. “Perhaps I’m hoping you don’t return from your errand.”

“I will.”

“I’m sure we’ll come up with a mutually satisfying agreement.”

“Why are you doing this?” Savich finally asked.

Lipton sat back on his heels.

“A year ago, one of our Resistance fighters, a lovely young woman, disappeared in the Kwadacha.” His eyes bored into Savich’s. “She was a survivalist, born and raised.” He gestured behind him. “Knew the Kwadacha inside and out. There is no way in hell she got lost and injured out there.”

Savich’s expression grew dim. He gave a single nod.

Lipton stared him down. Then he reached a hand through the bars. “It is customary to shake upon making an agreement.”

Savich had stared at the offered hand, then looked back up at Lipton. He took his hand in a firm grip and was surprised at the strength he felt. Lipton nodded.

“Johnson, let him out. Take him to the women’s quarters so he can explain everything to the woman.”

Savich had stood, scarcely believing his luck.

“I’m respecting the privacy of your names,” Lipton finally said. “The less we know, the better. And by the way,” he winked. “My name isn’t Lipton either.” He walked off into the dark hall, and Savich stared after him until the other man let him out.

Tabby hadn’t taken the news well, to be honest. But with a few minutes to explain the deal to her in private, she gradually softened.

She had gripped his shoulders and stared into his eyes. “You come back to me!”

He only kissed her, then left with an escort. They bagged his head and led him quite a ways into the forest, then surprised him by giving him two of his nanobot devices.

He saluted the surly men, then turned and ran into the wilderness.

Now, with his keen senses at full alert, he heard nothing that indicated any human presence as he stared at the infamous spot.

His heart cramped a moment. Should he have left her at the Resistance outpost after all? She had pushed him and pushed him. Never had a woman argued with him like Tabby did about the outpost. What if she had been right? It’s not like Lipton gave him any choice. Of course, he could fight his way through a score of Resistance fighters, but he wouldn’t risk Tabby like that. Not when there was another way.

He swallowed his doubt and began exploring the homestead. He avoided the churned-up ground where he’d literally plucked her from danger. He didn’t need to see it to smell old blood and sex there. Foul abominations. His fingers itched to damage them.

The grounds were devoid of personality. A stack of wood. A barrel for burning. He took a deep breath and entered Tabby’s hellhole.

The stench of wood smoke and blood hit him full force. He still smelled her here, and that was not acceptable.

With a roar, he upended the rough-hewn table that still had dishes on it. Scorched vegetables scattered across the floor along with dirty forks. He spied a large bed in one corner, a fireplace, and in another corner, a filthy mat no thicker than the sole of a shoe. It reeked of Tabby’s pain and blood. Savich saw red. His anger knew no bounds, and he began ripping and shredding everything in sight. He threw objects out the windows, breaking glass with abandon. He used his hands to tear the rocks out of the fireplace. No stick of furniture was spared, no piece of crockery left unbroken by the time he was spent, heaving.

His eyes darted about as if to spy the men who did this to her. They hadn’t been here in days. He pulled out one of his devices. Yes, he could hunt them down using the skills hard-won on Kavelt. But time was not on his side.

They were on the hunt, either for his Tabby, or another innocent young woman. It would be their last hunt in the Kwadacha. Savich would see to it with his last breath.