Alien-Under-Cover (8 page)

Julia sat up and regarded him with a sleepy look he found pleasing. “What time--”

Zurian held up his hand and turned his head toward the door of the basement. The humans moved like a herd of livas.

She sat up and pushed her hair beneath her cap again before she scrambled off his jacket. He pulled her behind him and felt her small hands rest on his middle.

The door crashed open and Jackson swaggered in. “Now, ain’t this cozy.”

He stood in front of the bars and leered at them. Zurian waited for him to step closer, just one step and he would end this worthless human who dared threaten Julia. The man’s gaze fell on the broken bars and he stumbled back from the cell.

“Oh shit, he’s on crack.” He ran out, the other thugs close on his heels.

“He’s going to tell them you’re on superman crack,” Julia said and her hands gripped his shirt until it pulled too tight around him.

“Superman crack?” he asked, puzzled by their conclusion.

She had asked him earlier about drugs. That must be what crack referred to.

“You know, the stuff that made you strong enough to bend the bars,” she said.

He carefully turned and took her hands in his. “I am not using this Superman Crack. I am a warrior.”

***

The reverend and what seemed like all his men stormed into the basement, armed with their whole arsenal.

“I think we’re in trouble,” she said and seriously considered hiding behind him again.

When Jackson had come in and John had pulled her behind him, she’d felt an inexplicable sense of safety, almost peace.

The reverend strolled up to their cell in that ridiculous way he thought denoted piety and leadership at the same time.

She almost snorted. He was a small fry and would find out soon enough what happened when you played with the big guys.

“How did you get in there?” the reverend demanded, gesturing at Julia’s cell.

“I broke the bars and stepped through,” John answered in all seriousness and she had to suppress a giggle at the look on the reverend’s face.

“Ask a stupid question,” she mumbled and John pulled her tight against his hard body.

They had men pointing guns at them and miserable people trapped in cages and all she was aware of for one crazy moment was that he smelled different. Coffee and spice. Enticing.

“Are you on Superman Crack?” the reverend asked, even as he took several hasty steps back.

Julia nearly rolled her eyes. Of course, a junkie was going to confess to being on drugs. Not!

His men cocked their guns and pointed them at John. He stepped in front of her.

“Boss?”

“What?” the reverend snapped, without taking his eyes of John. The pure terror on the reverend’s face was absolutely beautiful.

“We’ve got incoming boss,” the thug said.

Julia rolled her eyes where she stood pressed against John’s warm back. Did he really think his fake soldier talk made him more macho?

Julia peeked around John. Chains clanged as a group of straggly people walked single-file into the basement. In some of their faces she saw resignation and others bewilderment and fear. An older woman stumbled and fell and a small oily looking man kicked her viciously. “Get up, bitch.”

John locked onto him with a predatory gaze that should’ve made the little man run for cover.

Still staring at the oblivious little man, John pushed Julia back behind him. “Back, Julia.”

She heard the sound she now recognized as steel bars breaking, took a deep breath, and said a prayer. He stepped through, towering over the reverend. All the guns pointed squarely at him. “Stay behind me,” John said.

“You will give me the message you carry to the reverend and tell me why you are searching for Natalie Hanson,” John told the oily little man, who was obviously a slaver.

Julia gasped and covered her mouth. How did John know Natalie? All kinds of conspiracy theories raced through her head.

“Get back in there,” the reverend screamed.

“No,” John said, so seriously the moment was almost comic. “Why are you looking for Natalie Hanson,” he asked the little man again.

“I ask the questions here,” the reverend screamed at him.

Julia noticed he did his screaming from a safe distance. The reverend, his men, and the oily little man that interested John, all cowered before him. She shouldn’t, but she really enjoyed their fear. Pigs. All of them. Trading children as if they were livestock. Kicking old people.

Still ignoring the reverend, John spoke very quietly but every hair on her body stood straight up. “Answer me or I will cut you into pieces.”

The slaver glanced at the broken bars, paled, and wiped a sweaty palm over his oily hair before his finger went to his nostril, obviously a nervous habit. Julia gagged and clutched her stomach. Why would these people want her friend and how did John know Natalie?

“I don’t mind telling you ’bout the Hanson woman. Everyone knows Murdoch was killed ’cause a her. Someone high up wants to use her to trap big prey. Didn’t know there was a higher up anymore.” The little man stepped back, shaking so much Julia thought she could hear his knees knocking. “But I don’t have any message,” the man almost sobbed.

Who could he be that afraid of?

Next to her, John tensed. The very atmosphere chilled and even the guards with the big guns took a step back.

“You
will
give me the message but first tell me who do they want to trap?”

Before the oily little man could answer, a shot ran out and Julia clutched her ears as the slaver slowly crumpled to the cement floor. She couldn’t look away from the red stain spreading under the pathetic figure.

“I said I’m the one in charge here. You don’t get to ask the questions,” the reverend said, pointing the laser rifle squarely at John’s chest.

Julia almost snorted out loud. Fat lot of good that would do him against someone on Superman Crack. John would just keep going, no matter his injuries. But she and the other captives might not fare that well once all these idiots started shooting.

“Yeah, we’re gonna kill you and take your bitch,” Jackson said.

She’d heard and seen worse from John but, the way he stiffened in front of her, you’d think he was offended. Julia stepped from behind John to give Jackson a piece of her mind.

John stepped in front of her and, at the same time, reached out and casually snapped Jackson’s neck. With just one hand.

She stared at the body on the ground with its neck at a strange angle. All she could think of was the pistol that had been oddly bent as well.

Slowly, very slowly, John’s head turned and he looked at the reverend. “You need to die, human.”

The temperature in the stuffy basement dropped and she saw several of the reverend’s men stumble back.

“I think once again you forget who is in charge here. Boys, if he so much as twitches you shoot the bitch.”

Several of the rifles pointed to her.

John moved in front of her and stood with his feet braced apart and his arms crossed over his chest. A better person might object to him being her shield but Julia was grateful for every inch of him in front of her.

“Shoot him,” the reverend said.

John crowded her back into her cell. Loud shots rang in the cellar and Julia screamed. His body shook with the impact of the laser hits and bullets. As if they hadn’t just shot him full of holes, he moved through them with blurring speed. When he killed the first thug, the reverend ran and most of his men followed.

John grabbed her arm.

“Stay behind me.”

“We have to get the others out.”

His eyes flared. “Stay behind me.”

She tugged on his arm and motioned to the other cages. “I’m not leaving without helping them.”

“You will obey me, breeder.”

She lifted her chin at him. “I will. Open the cages and I’ll do as you say.” She cast around for a reason that will convince him. “The reverend would hate to lose them.”

He snarled something at her that she couldn’t make out and she crossed her arms. “Help them or I’m not moving.”

Around them everyone was screaming and begging to be freed.

Keeping his body between her and the door where the reverend and his men had run out, John broke open the cages with his bare hands. The reverend screamed at the top of his lungs from outside. Julia stopped and gaped at the man staring at her from a cage in the farthest corner.

“Charles?”

In front of her John stiffened. “John, it’s Charles. Please break his cage open. Hurry.”

John hesitated and then broke open the cage. Grabbing Charles’s shirt, John dragged him out. “You take these people to safety,” he snarled in Charles’s face.

“John, he’s injured. He cannot--”

“I’m okay, Julia. I’ll take them to safety, ” Charles said.

She nodded, clenched her fists, and glared at John. “Aren’t you going to free the others? I won’t go anywhere until I know they’re free.”

If they could find some tools, they could break the cages open, but that would take time they didn’t have. No doubt the reverend would soon return with bigger and better weapons. John moved with that blurring speed and cracked open cells and cages. If she hadn’t see it happening in front of her, she wouldn’t believe it. “He’s on Superman Crack,” she whispered to Charles and picked up a child who crawled out of a cage.

John came back and, taking the child from her, handed her to Charles.

Charles was bleeding and unsteady on his feet. “I can’t leave you with him,” he said.

“She belongs to me. Help your fellow weak ones to escape and make sure I never see you again.” Suddenly John had a sword in his hand.

Julia refused to think on that. So he had a sword, one of the reverend’s men must’ve dropped it. As fast as he moved, he probably picked it up without her noticing.

“Go, Charles, I’ll be all right. I know him from before.” She had no doubt John would kill Charles at the slightest provocation.

“Be behind me at all times,” John said and moved to the stairs. He looked toward Charles. “You need to be fast. They will chase us but soon they will search for you.

“Okay.”

John went up the stairs, still dragging her behind him. At the top he stopped and angled his head, as if he listened to something she couldn’t hear.

“There are men with guns outside, waiting to kill us if we come out. The reverend has gone for more weapons.”

“How did you--”

“Stay here until I come for you.” He bent down and laid his forehead against her for a brief moment, and then he was gone.

She looked down at Charles and shivered when she heard the screams and shooting outside.

“He seems to be bullet proof.”

“I don’t know what he’s on but I’m just glad he’s here,” Charles said.

She nodded and screamed when a huge hand clamped onto her shoulder.

“We go now,” John said.

“Please, we have to make sure Charles gets away with the children.”

He cupped her cheek and his thumb rubbed over her lips. “Are you concerned for the children or Charles,” he asked gently.

“The children,” she lied, one hundred percent sure that if she admitted to worrying about Charles, John would kill him.

He nodded and motioned the other prisoners out. He killed a few more of the reverend’s men before Charles disappeared with the other captives.

She took one last glance at their retreating backs then followed John to the trees and toward her house. The reverend and his men didn’t appear to try to stop them but she knew they would come for them.

“Where are we going?”

“To your dwelling.”

“You know where I live?”

How long had he known? Did she go around her business happily convinced she was safe while he stalked her? Her heartbeat sped up until it hammered in her ear so loudly she could barely hear her own voice.

“That’s the first place the reverend will look for us,” she said. Could she convince him to let her go? How big a hold did the drugs have on him? He lifted her into his arms and ran. Everything blurred around her and she hung on for dear life. “How can you manage to run this fast,” she asked, her words disappearing in the wind whipping around them.

“I am warrior.”

John opened her back door and sat her down inside her kitchen. He turned and looked her over and she swallowed. She knew that look in his eyes, had seen it many times before she fled from her family. He made one of those strange growly noises, took her wrist in his hand, and rubbed a thumb over the purple-blue bruises covering her wrist and forearm.

“It’s nothing,” she said. “I probably banged my arm against one of the cages when we escaped.”

He kept rubbing, setting her heart to pounding. She lifted her chin while she glared at him. “So now I suppose you want a pound of my flesh?”

He cocked his head in that strange motion.
An almost inhuman movement
, a small voice at the back of her head insisted. She pushed that thought away.

“Why would I want to take some of your flesh? I do not eat humans.”

She felt her jaw loosen and her mouth dropped open. Well, that settled the question on how big a hold the drugs had on his mind.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she spelled out.

The sad truth was that she would do whatever it took not to have to go back to Denver. She only prayed using whatever drug he’d used didn’t make him vulnerable to drug resistant pocks. She’d prefer death over that living hell.

“We will have many hours of sex making. Now you will remain quiet.”

He focused on her TC sitting on her small coffee table in the lounge, which Julia could see from where they stood.

“I require you to pack the things you want to bring with you.” He walked over to the window and stood just to the side of it. She knew from there he could see if anyone approached the house from the front. She’d stood in just that pose many times, trying to spot the demon coming, sometimes afraid the reverend and his crowd would come to her little house.

She hurried forward and grabbed his arm. “Where are you taking me?”

Ignoring her, he grunted deep in his throat. It was as if he was two people. The one she knew years before and then this mysterious stranger who’d looked after her during their captivity.