Page 56

Trapped

T he steel bunker door rolls up with a siren and a flashing orange light at each corner.

The door, which is more like a building, stretches from floor to ceiling and is a mixture of steel and concrete.

An old-world method to protect against radiation and nuclear bombs, and I guess they had the right idea––just the wrong way the world would end.

The big black truck from pre-scorch days is a tight squeeze with all my men, but they refused to be separated, which I can’t say I am sad about.

My father insisted on letting us take the vehicle, weapons, and food.

I explained it would make us a bigger target, but when he argued the point that it would make it faster to get back to the Summit, I could hardly refuse.

So, now I’m waiting for the sand to be revealed beyond the door to paradise.

I thought I would be sad to leave, but I guess once you live a certain way you get used to it.

The glare of the sun hits us first, making me grin.

Once I can see the open sand-covered stretch of land, something in my chest loosens, and I instantly become more primal.

Dr. Perfect Face, my new name for him, insisted on driving and now he throws me a look through the rearview mirror as if seeing the glee in my eyes.

“You ready to head into the Wastes?” he asks everyone.

“More ready than you are,” I taunt.

His hands are tight on the wheel and his eyes tense, I’m betting he has never been out of the bunker. Does it make me a bad person to enjoy his discomfort?

Vasilisy smiles at me from the car next to us, filled with a few guards.

We drive out, side by side heading to The Summit.

I grab the shades out of my bag and kick my feet up on Dr. Perfect’s seat and tilt my head to watch the scenery go by.

The sand blurs together as we drive until I find myself nodding off .

“Think she wull mak' it thro' this one?”

Through the slit in my ballooning eyes, I see the Berserker turn to look at me, it was a bad fight.

Real bad, no better than the first time, except this time I managed to stay conscious long enough for Ivar to beat me.

Now, his little minions are driving me back to the castle in their pikers.

Modded out versions of old vehicles. This one being a bus.

My broken body was carelessly tossed on to one of the only seats remaining; the rest of the bus was stripped and filled with weapons.

The side was even cut out to install flamethrowers and pikes.

“Who knows, tough bitch though, I will give her that.” He says before turning back around.

“Aye. Wonder how many fights she will live thro’?” He flicks me another look, filled with pity before dragging his eyes back to the road and the waning light.

“Or how long until Ivar kills her.” His friend scoffs from beside him.

The flippant way they are discussing my death has me focusing on the landscape out of the window. The rough, ripped seat I am on pushes into my cheek as I curl up and face the big piece of glass. I watch the world pass by as they take me back to my cage.

I must fall asleep because the next thing I know my hair is pulled, used as a handle. I whimper as I am yanked up and thrown into the open area of the bus, the man who isn’t driving standing over me leering.

“Looks like we are camping for the night, slave. Why don’t you keep us entertained?”

My eyes fall from him to meet the driver’s.

He quickly looks away, obviously unable to watch me be tortured.

I make sure to keep my eyes on him the whole time, if I have to live through it.

If he won’t do anything to stop it, then he damn well has to live with that choice and at least live through it with me.

I can feel someone’s hand in mine, squeezing and offering me comfort, and I know it must be Jax, I smile and go to close my eyes again when I spot something through the window. Frowning, I blink to clear the nightmare and sleep away.

I watch as a wall of wind and sand crawls towards us, covering the land and broken buildings.

Until the orange blots out the sky, Dr. Perfect Face keeps looking from the road to his side window as he tries to out drive it.

Sand storms are common, there’s only one way to deal with them.

Get the fuck out of their way and lay low.

“FUCK!” he yells.

A sand twister forms in front of us, reaching at least a hundred metres high and ten metres wide. We swerve and drive in the opposite direction as the sandstorm starts to catch up with us. I spot a building up ahead.

“We need to get off the road,” I say casually, using the knife to clean my nails. Dr. Perfect Face throws me a glare as he white knuckles the steering wheel. The front window is now completely covered, and we can’t see in front of us. We are driving blind.

“Pull over, we can wait it out in here. Or there was a building not too far.”

He finally listens to me and yanks the wheel and stops the car.

The sand completely covers us, but I can just about spot the outline of the building in front of us.

I pull up my neck scarves and hood before reaching between my legs and grabbing my bags.

I shimmy forward in my seat and strap on my swords before facing the guys.

The material covering my nose and mouth hides my smile, but I wink before slipping out of the car door.

I hear swearing as they scramble to pack up and come after me, but I don’t bother waiting, I stride through the wind, my face to the floor and my hand outstretched until it meets the outside of the building.

Running it along, I grin when I hit a door, it would seem luck is on our side.

I shove it, but it doesn’t budge. Sands below.

Stepping back, I kick it and the steel groans before slamming inwards, announcing our presence to anyone inside.

When nothing comes sprinting out of the darkness, I take shelter in the doorway and wait for the others.

One by one, they trickle in until all that’s left is the Doc. When I don’t see him, I frown.

“Fuck,” I groan.

Shaking my head, I brave the sand and shimmy along the wall.

I see him twisting and turning, obviously, lost not far from where we are.

I grab his arm, as he lets out a shout before I yank him inside.

Slamming the door to stop the raging winds and sand, I breathe a sigh of relief before turning around.

“Looks like we are camping here tonight.”

The building inside isn’t as destroyed as most places in the Wastes.

It seems we have lucked out. It looks like an old warehouse, with massive high up old yellowed windows that only have cracks and not holes.

The floor is unforgiving concrete and unused dead machinery covers half of the floor.

But there is a break room, hidden away in the back.

Not big enough for everyone, but I don’t give a shit about everyone.

It adds a layer of protection between me and them.

The door is crooked and looks like it’s about to fall down, but the two dusty sofas inside are calling my name.

Striding through, and uncaring about the debate of sleeping arrangements, I drop my bag on the floor in the break room and strip off my jacket and scarf dropping them on top.

Drax follows me in and collapses on the red dirty sofa next to me, obviously still a little weak from his wounds.

Even laid sprawled, he looks hot as hell, with one leg propped up and one arm behind his head as he watches me.

I manage to drag my eyes away long enough to take in where we are.

The room is probably just big enough to fit me and my men, with windows covering one wall.

Dr. Perfect Face stops outside one of the windows to the break room and cocks his eyebrow, with a grin I pull down the blinds and block out his face. Drax laughs as he stomps around to the door and glares at me.

“Debriefing in five.” He scowls before turning and stomping away. I groan and look at Drax. He pats his chest with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“I know what we can do in five minutes.”

Laughing, I walk over to him, my boots leaving footprints in the dirt and dust on the floor. I stop just before him and bend over, putting a hand on either side of his head.

“Only five minutes? I’m disappointed.” I tug on his lip with my teeth before straightening and turning around. Vasilisy stands at the door looking very concerned.

“What is debrief? Does it mean he wishes to undress me? I will beat him with his own arm,” he growls, banging on his chest with a triumphant look in his eyes. Closing my eyes, I groan in frustration, sands below, it's going to be a long trip.

“No, it doesn’t mean that.” I walk towards him and crane my neck back to see him. “Now come on, let’s get this the fuck over with so I can get some sleep.”

“Yes, little queen.” He steps to the side and follows me to the middle of the room where the others are gathered.

It makes me nervous to have him at my back, but I don’t show it.

Instead, I manoeuvre around until I can lean on one of the machines so that no one can sneak up on me.

Maxen comes to stand on one side of me and Jax on the other.

I watch everything as the others mill around, my stillness and gaze seems to unnerve them if the looks they are throwing my way are anything to go by.

Vasilisy sits on the ground near my feet and pulls out his honour dagger.

Ignoring everyone, he starts to pick his teeth with it, disgust fills the faces of the paradise men and I can’t help but laugh.

They aren’t cut out for the world out here, it’s going to get them killed, and I don’t plan on being there when it does.

After all, they don’t have my loyalty, and I don’t give a shit about anyone in here but my men.