Resistance (3 page)

Fuck!
At the time, they hadn’t known she was a member
of the Resistance, let alone the leader of an enemy of the government. But
she’d been willing. Willing and wanting and orgasming all over the place with a
group of men who’d been desperate for a female.

The Pleasure Palace had done a number on her, that’s for
sure. It was a wonder she’d pulled herself together and returned to the
Resistance. Most females, once on sex drugs, couldn’t get off them. They were highly
addictive. They’d been designed that way. To hook and keep the females as
virtual slaves in the pleasure houses. If a woman escaped, she would crave the drugs
to the point of near death and return to the place that supplied her, looking
for more, plus the sex.

Apparently Reena had beaten those seductive drugs. She was
tough, sexy and totally out of his league. Besides, she was damaged goods. She
would need a man or men who were caring and patient with her and who would
accept her desire for freedom for all women.

He could never be that man. As a SKULL assassin, he had too
much blood on his hands. He didn’t deserve happiness.

When he cleared the nearby tree line, he sighed in both
frustration and relief. Relief because he’d been stopped from making a moral
mistake. Frustration for the leader of the Resistance, because her troubles
were only beginning.

* * * * *

Blade slipped away into the horizon and Cade sighed in
relief. Blade wouldn’t be back. At least not any time soon. He was a smart man
and understood that what Cade said, he meant. Cade would have killed Blade if
he hadn’t dropped the gun, despite their friendship. It would have sent a
strong message to SKULL to back off the leader.

Unfortunately for the Resistance, Cade was on a similar
mission. Only Cade’s orders didn’t come from SKULL.

His mission—capture the leader of the Resistance, the woman
they called Red, and bring her into the government safe and sound. Too bad
Blade being here had screwed up his plan of capturing her. He wouldn’t be able
to catch the woman today. She’d have disappeared without a trace by now.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow he would attempt to pick up the trail and start the
hunt again. He’d capture the red-haired beauty and bring her in. He’d been told
there was a deal on the table for members of the Resistance who came in
peacefully. In the meantime, he’d make a large bounty for doing his job.

He just wished he could trust the government when they
assured him her freedom was guaranteed, even if she didn’t take the deal. Cade
frowned and shoved his gun back into the ankle holster, then headed back to the
Outlaw farm.

Chapter Two

Six weeks later…

Reena “Red” Wilde topped the tree-enshrouded embankment of
the winding creek she’d been following for the last half an hour. She tried
hard not to shiver as sheets of frigid air blasted against her jean-clad legs
and her face. The cold mid-November wind had picked up and she was grateful she’d
had the forethought to slip into her late grandfather’s green camouflage
hunting jacket before leaving the cabin. Thankfully she’d also donned an extra
pair of wool socks before opting to put on her winter boots despite no snow on
the ground—although from the looks of the sky that would change soon.

She focused her attention on the dark-gray clouds rolling
above the gnarled branches of the hardwood forest prevalent in the southern
half of the state of Maine. She should have taken the weather forecast more
seriously when she’d listened to her portable satellite radio this morning at
the cabin.

In her desire to reconnect with nature, she’d spent hours
walking through the woods. The small, picturesque frozen ponds in the valley
behind her grandfather’s hunting cabin made her breath catch at their beauty.
She had admired the birds, deer and other wildlife she encountered. But in
doing so, she’d ventured too far.

She probably had another hour or more of walking before she
could get back and warm herself by the wood stove. Maybe she could avoid
getting caught in the snowstorm that was sure to drop a good load before
nightfall.

As if the angry-looking sky ignored her wishful thinking, a
defiant snowflake twirled a taunting dance past the white mist of her breath.
Another snowflake landed in her eye and she quickly swiped it away with the
back of her mittened hand. Any split second of blindness was dangerous.

Cursing the impending bad weather, she hoped her luck would
hold out and the erotic throb of need wouldn’t erupt between her thighs. She
was overdue. The crushing craving for sex hit at the most inopportune times.
Ever since being infected with the X-virus, her life was a chaotic rhythm of yearning
for sex, masturbating and then having a few days to several weeks of peace
before the overwhelming need to orgasm hit again.

The “big O” is what she needed when the cravings kicked in. A
climax in order to keep from dying—literally.

She’d end up freezing to death out here if she didn’t get
her ass in gear and head back to the cabin. God, why had she let her good
friend Maggie talk her into taking a couple of weeks away from her job, anyway?

Her job
. She chuckled harshly beneath her breath as
she continued to gaze at the desolate wilderness beauty.
Yeah right. Now
that is an understatement, isn’t it?
If life ever returned to a semblance
of normalcy—which she highly doubted—what in the world could she write on her
resume?

Job experience: Fugitive. Leader of the Resistance. Wanted
dead or alive by every bounty hunter in the United States. Wanted dead by
various government factions. Wanted alive by any group of men who could catch
her and screw her brains out just so they could claim rights over her and call
her their wife.

Crud.

Why hadn’t she been smart enough to bring an entourage of
her most trusted bodyguards into seclusion with her? Because Reena, or “Red” as
the members of the Resistance had nicknamed her, was just plain stupid, that’s
why. Well okay, aside from being stupid, lately she’d been snapping everybody’s
head off due to the stress of being the Resistance leader.

Her need for alone time—the first alone time in years—had
clouded her judgment. She’d been in seclusion only two days of her two-week
hiatus and already she was climbing the walls. Hence, she’d disregarded the
storm warning and did her five-mile run this morning, following up with a
wilderness hike.

Reena sighed and stuck out her tongue, catching a couple of
snowflakes. The wetness made her yearn for something to drink. Maybe some
sparkling water drawn from the ice hole she’d augured in the lake in front of
the cabin. Or better yet, some of that cool white wine she’d brought in via her
very heavy food-laden knapsack after being dropped off by a male member of the
Resistance about three miles from the cabin.

Women were forbidden to drive these days. There were
checkpoints along most roads so it had been quite difficult to arrange her
hiatus. But, in the end, everything had worked out and she’d finally gotten her
much-needed solitude.

Perhaps she should have taken a man or two along too to keep
from getting bored. Now that men were returning from the Terrorist Wars, many of
them were joining the Resistance. Some were prominent doctors and lawyers, and
others blue-collar factory workers from the cities or farmers from the countryside.
If she got her way, they would amass a large enough group to overthrow the
dictatorship that now controlled the U.S., then they could start getting things
back to normal…if that were possible.

Once upon a time, she’d wanted to be a teacher, a wife and
mother. But she wanted none of those things now. Even if she did get back to a
somewhat ordinary existence, she didn’t have the desire to get into that kind
of life anymore.

Life now included extreme danger. Living on the edge. Not
knowing one minute to the next if she’d end up with a bullet in her brain
because of her vocal protests against the government, who—in an effort to
quickly repopulate the country—had with the stroke of a pen removed all women’s
rights, forcing them to be nothing more than men’s sexual possessions and
baby-making machines.

She sighed again as more snowflakes drifted out of the sky
and clung to her eyelashes. This would be the first snowfall of the season. In
the past, before the Terrorist Wars, she’d loved the crisp cold air slapping
against her face. Had enjoyed the fresh, virgin-white snow blanketing the
ground and draping the trees. The snow always turned this area into a sparkling
winter fairyland.

Not anymore. These days the presence of snow on the ground
meant extreme danger. She, as well as all the women in hiding, could be easily
tracked in the snow.

Besides, she’d been surrounded by so much activity over the
last few years a constant state of adrenaline had her in automatic survival
mode. That’s why she’d let herself get talked into coming here. To help herself
unwind. Unfortunately her hiatus wasn’t working. Every noise alerted her to
possible danger and, as she stood on the embankment overlooking the meandering
creek that led back to the cabin, the silence almost overwhelmed her. It was so
quiet the snowflakes splattered against the frozen ground. But something that
didn’t belong in these woods whispered along the soft, flowing wind.

She tensed as a warning seared through her like an
explosion. Was that a footfall from somewhere nearby?

The hushed crunch came again.

Yes, footsteps. Light. Fast. One person.

Shit! Someone is following me!

She ran even before she could inhale her next breath. Zig-zagging
around trees and boulders, her feet hit the ground with assurance and
confidence. She’d been in situations like this before and had always escaped
capture, except for the one time she purposely got caught for the pleasure
house.

Involuntary shivers of angst zipped through her and, in an
instant, she tamped down the anxiety, refocusing on running, praying and
escaping.

Despite someone keeping pace with her, she concentrated on keeping
her breathing even. Soon an odd, familiar calm melted over her. Quickening her
pace, she smiled as the person chasing her cursed.

Figures. A man. Just as I suspected.

She picked up more speed. He cursed again. The son of a
bitch was still keeping pace. Usually she had no problem outrunning someone.
That’s why she made a point to jog several miles every morning, to keep herself
in shape just so she could elude potential captors. Perhaps this guy did the
same thing?

Oh great.

He breathed loudly as he gained ground. Panic split into her
like a sharp axe.

Dammit! Who was this guy?

Soon her lungs began to hurt as the icy-cold wind seeped
deep inside her.

She should have been paying more attention to her
surroundings. She should have known someone could be following her. Instead
she’d been enjoying herself in the wilderness and now she’d pay for it.

No! She wouldn’t pay! He would have to catch her first!

She breathed deeper and pumped her legs harder until pain
sawed through her thighs and the frosty air burned her face. Still he drew
closer.

Fuck!
Who the hell is this guy
? She wanted to
look over her shoulder and see who had the same stamina, but her curiosity
would waste precious seconds.

She cut sharply to the right, heading for what appeared to
be a meadow or hopefully one of the many lakes in the area. If she could just
get a clear run on an ice-covered lake, she would drop her pursuer like a
stone. Her hopes soared as she focused on the escape route looming in front of
her.

Yes!
Past the branches of the trees she could make out
a lake. A big one. And it appeared to be frozen solid. Or at least she hoped
so.

Twenty feet to go. Ten feet.

She blasted onto the bare black ice, running wide open at a
dangerous speed, hoping to heaven she wouldn’t slip and tumble. Ice crackled
beneath her feet. Heck, falling would be the least of her problems. Behind her,
the man shouted something about her having a death wish. Yet he just kept
coming.

Damn him!

The rustle of his clothing and the determined slap of his
boots on the ice made her groan in frustration as he continued his pursuit.
Snowflakes twirled wildly, screwing with her field of vision, and the cold wind
swept against her cheeks like shards of ice. She kept running.

Hell!
He had just as much of a death wish as she did,
coming after her with all the ice cracking beneath them. A man with a death
wish was deadly. It meant he was desperate and had nothing to lose.

The farther she ran, the more the ice shifted beneath her
feet. Her gut twisted in anxiety. It was only a matter of time before she fell
through.

If this guy was serious about catching her, he wouldn’t give
up his pursuit until one of them plunged into the icy water. Maybe that’s what
he hoped. It certainly would make his job easier than chasing her around. But
damned if she would make his job easy.

Anger seared through her and she veered sharply to the
right, heading back toward the shoreline. With her sudden turn, he followed and
fell.

She decided to go for her gun. But he already had his weapon
in hand and pointed at her. Unzipping her coat, she reached for her shoulder
holster while keeping her stride. She grabbed her weapon and yanked it out, but
her stupid knitted mittens prevented her from getting a finger on the trigger.

Behind her, he shouted something stupid like “stop or I’ll
shoot”, but she figured if he wanted her dead, he would have shot her already.
Hopefully he didn’t mean he’d wing her and bring her down that way. With him
flat on his ass and thankfully not shooting, she gained a significant amount of
distance. She dared hope that maybe, she just might get out of this situation.
Once she hit land, she could get better bearings beneath her feet, ditch the
mitts and blow this son of a bitch away if he came any closer.

The powers that be obviously had other plans. About three
feet from the shoreline, her right foot caught on a rock and she sailed through
the air.

The black ice rushed up at her with mind-numbing speed and
she managed to protect her face by breaking the impact with her arms. Her
elbows smashed into the ice, sending jarring pain up her arms and into her
neck, making her gasp at the intensity of the collision. The gun careened from
her grasp and frustration ripped through her as the weapon sailed along the ice
out of reach. The rest of her body, stomach and legs, hit hard, sending the air
whooshing out of her lungs as she landed squarely, belly first on the ice. For
a horrible few seconds, pain slithered through her chest and she lost her
breath. Another few precious seconds passed as she struggled to grab some air
and finally sucked in a lungful, and then two lungfuls, before managing to get
her feet beneath her again. As she stood, she went for the second gun she kept
in a thigh holster, but then froze as the cold metal of a knife blade kissed
the right side of her jugular.

Oh, she was so screwed.

“Make one move and I’ll give you a red necklace to go with
that red hair of yours.”

She didn’t recognize the voice, but his ice-cold tone informed
her he was quite pissed off. Rage wafted off him as his powerful arm snuggled
like a vise around her waist, holding her captive. The man held her close enough,
the scent of soap wafted off his skin and into her nostrils. So close, his hot
heavy breath caressed the chill from her cheeks. Although her brain screamed at
her to fight and free herself and kill the bastard, her highly trained senses
told her to do what the man instructed.

At least for the moment.

“What do you want?” she whispered as the prickly rasp of his
five o’clock shadow rubbed her cheek.

“You,” came his hot reply.

Damn!

Panic punched her stomach like a two-by-four and she tensed.
She thought about stomping on his foot to get out of his tight grasp or going
for the gun in her thigh holster again, but his light chuckle and the increased
pressure of the blade on her jugular made her pause.

“Don’t even think it, Red. Now I want you to spread your
legs for me.”

She couldn’t help but inhale sharply at his command as panic
threatened to burst through her like a bolt of lightning.

“I’m not joking, Red. Spread your legs. Now. I won’t ask
again.”