Guns and Dust

A tickle on Adina's face drew her out of sleep. Just a brush. As she came awake, the memory of where she was fuzzily returned. She could still feel Asher's arm over her, his warmth against her back.

She opened her eyes. One of Asher's fingers lightly brushed a lock of black hair out of her face. She squinted and blinked against the bright morning light, tucking her hands up inside the blanket against the chill. Moving her hands made her realize she had Asher's other arm pulled around her. Her head lay on it like a pillow and she was holding his warm hand against her, cupping her breast.

Adina was instantly awake, blood rushing up her neck and onto her face. Having her lover's arm around her, resting warm and reassuringly on her breast was a favorite sleeping position. But now, she froze, paralyzed by his hand, feeling her nipple harden. Her face, neck and chest felt like they'd caught fire from the sudden rush of blood. She squeezed her thighs together against the embarrassing ache that had suddenly taken up residence between them.

She turned her head, trying to move as little as possible to keep his hand from moving. But even that slight motion made her shirt brush under the weight of his hand, sending a thrill through her. He was watching her, his blue eyes intent on hers for a moment, then traveling over her face again. The intense creases between his eyebrows were back and the morning light highlighted the white scars on his face.

"I uhhh..." she stammered. "Need to go to the bathroom." She watched his expression. He looked so different in the sunlight, younger, less harsh. She wiggled a little to see what would happen, instantly regretting it as his hand slid over her nipple again. "Can I?"

"Of course." He lifted his arm off her and let his hand fall from her breast.

Adina wanted to scramble to her feet but only got to her hands and knees before the battered muscles of her stomach forced her to stop. She hissed but pushed up to her feet and forced herself upright.

"You should let me look at that," he told her as he sat up, nodding at her belly. He was maddeningly calm for how out of control her body suddenly felt.

"I'm fine!" she snapped.

He pointed her in a direction. "Over there will probably be safest."

She marched toward the corner of the building he indicated. She did have to go to the bathroom -

badly

. But more than anything else, she needed to be anywhere that didn't involve being in contact with, or even close to him.

By the time she'd relieved herself and taken a few minutes to try and calm down, the day's heat was already starting to rise. She stretched her cramped belly as she walked back to the corner of the building. It was just starting to let go as she turned the corner - and froze.

The packs were gone. The fire was out. And Asher was nowhere to be seen.

She stood staring at the abandoned camp, new knots twisting painfully behind her belly button. She felt sick and dizzy all over again.

The ground where she and Asher had lain was packed flat, the marks of their bodies still on it.

"Asher?" Her voice shook so badly she could barely hear it. "ASHER!?" she called louder.

The moment that passed seemed to drag on for hours.

"Here," came from around the far corner of the building.

Adina had to fight to keep from falling down. Everything was suddenly spinning. She took a huge, heaving breath.

He stepped into view. "Feeling better?" he began to ask, but his words trailed away, his eyes studying her unsteadiness. "Are you sick?"

"I..." She cleared her throat to steady her voice. Tears now rolled down her cheeks as she fought to regain her composure. "I thought you'd... left me."

He continued to scrutinize her, then gestured. "You still have my blanket."

She looked down at the warm cloth she was clutching in her hands, torn between wanting to rage at him for being so... matter of fact and wanting to run to him just to feel his arms around her. With all that had happened; things she knew she was blocking out; she'd felt

safe

last night. And even this morning with its... discomfort.

"Ye... yes. I do."

He nodded affirmatively and gestured for her to join him as he turned back to the corner again.

She scrubbed her tears on the blanket and quick-stepped after him, not wanting to lose sight of him. And as she came around the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks again.

A vehicle was parked next to a tall, leaning concrete wall. The hulking, aggressive-looking machine reminded her of a huge mechanized bear. It was twice the size of any normal vehicle she'd ever seen, nearly as large as the vans that transported goods from one settlement to another. And it was armored. Just behind its broad, powerful nose, it grew tall, like the shoulders of a bear behind its hanging head, with a cupola on top. She could see it was black under the thick coat of dust. Great gashes scarred its sides and front. Raider vehicles, with their bodged on armor and weapons lived in her nightmares, with the feral shrieks of the men and women inside them. But they looked

fragile

compared to what stood before her. It was purpose-built machine of war. Blazoned along the side, just below the cupola was the same crossed pistol and sword emblem that marked the armor on Asher's shoulders.

He walked to the back of the vehicle, picked up the last bag sitting on the ground and threw it inside. "We can't stay here. It's not safe. We need to move." He closed the door with a solid metal

clang!

and walked forward. He pulled the armored passenger side door open, holding a hand out to her. "Come on."

She wanted to move, but her feet refused to move. All she could do was stare at him and the hulking machine. Her mind filled with images of Asher and the machine rolling off mythical assembly lines together, each made for the other.

When she didn't come to him, his attention focused on her eyes. He looked confused for a moment, then blew out a breath. His head fell back a bit and his shoulders dropped. "Right." He nodded as if her expression and what she'd said moments before finally registered. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. I can see how you might have thought I'd left you." He nodded toward the back of the truck. "I normally just pack things up first thing." He held out his hand again. "Please. We need to go."

She felt small under his intense blue-eyed gaze. It was like the heat from the sun that was starting to cut over the tops of the tall ruins around them. Her feet unlocked and she walked to him and then turned to the open door.

"It's a big step up," he told her, pointing to where she should grab, tossing the blanket up ahead of her. Then he put a hand firmly under her backside. She nearly squeaked as his strong hand pushed up, far too close to her already aching center.

She got into the seat, clutching the blanket again, trying to control the sudden rush between her legs. The inside of the vehicle was as impressive as the outside. There were things stored, gauges and switches like nothing she'd ever seen before. The bags she'd seen the night before were on the floor in the far back, past the step up to the cupola.

He slammed the heavy door and a moment later the driver's side door opened. He levered himself into the seat, closed the door and stowed his sword in a mount behind his right shoulder, his movements smooth with long familiarity. He threw switches and then pushed a button. The war machine chugged, like one of the large transport trucks. She jumped at the sudden engine howl that followed, grabbing the metal around her as the entire metal beast shuddered like it was coming to life. Lights and dials illuminated and bobbed across the console in front of him. The howl died to a deep throaty rumble throughout the vehicle

"Buckle up."

She stared at him, confused. She wasn't sure whether she was terrified or excited, but she felt like she was about to pass out, breathing in short, fast gasps.

"You know what a seat belt is, right?" When she didn't move, just sitting wide-eyed watching him, he blew out another breath and leaned across. The vehicle was large enough that he had to all but lay across the console between them to reach her, which meant his face was nearly pressed against her left breast as he reached past her and pulled a belt around her. Leaning up on an elbow, he indicated the spade end of the belt, then a narrow slot next to her seat. "Tab end goes into the buckle." He snapped it in, adjusting the belt around her with deft hands, that were once again much too close to... well everything for her comfort. He pointed to a button next to the slot. "When you need to get out," he pushed the button and the spade end came free. "Just push the button." He secured the belt again.

"I... I know..." she nodded, leaning as far away from him as the belt would allow.

He let his weight settle on his elbow for a moment, the corner of his mouth coming up. She couldn't be sure if it was the beginning of a smile. Then he leaned close - and sniffed. He settled back into his seat and buckled his own belt. He pulled a canteen from a storage slot next to him, took a drink and handed it to her. She took it and drank, unsure what else to do.

"You're pretty ripe. We need to fix that." She spat water, feeling it burn up inside her sinuses, leaving her coughing as the big vehicle pulled away with a thundering rumble.

They drove for hours without more than a few words passing between them. She had no idea what to say or how to start and he was stoic, only asking simple questions or giving instructions. They started along the remains of roads, then they traveled over open ground until finally they were winding between the blasted-apart remains of what had once been buildings. She felt more relaxed but was as confused -

more

confused than ever by her body's intense reaction to him. And she could see his interest.

It was hot and so she'd taken off her jacket. His eyes kept being drawn to her bouncing breasts as they lurched over uneven ground. Part of her wanted to cross her arms, but she just couldn't, instead waiting for his glances.

She'd eaten three large piece of boar he'd given her; he'd eaten as many himself. In her glances around the vehicle's interior, she'd seen the remains of the boar. He wasn't joking. Parts of it were neatly cut up, dried and stored, a large haunch of it hung wrapped in cloth and carefully strapped between shelves in the far back of the truck.

He drove past giant quarantine signs that ran in a line at the boundary of a what had once been part of a city. They were from the old world, or the world just after the bombs fell. She watched the signs pass, her stomach dropping.

"What are you doing!? It's not safe in there!"

He nodded. "That's the point." She pulled the blanket up again, his deadpan confidence doing nothing to help her racing heart. No one went into the quarantined areas. They were filled with irradiated dust, toxic chemical clouds, and the things that did live within them were twisted and dangerous. She'd heard stories about so-called 'survivors' that lived in the quarantine zones. They made the cannibal scavengers seem tame.

Asher pulled the war machine between crumbling buildings along increasingly narrow, rubble strewn streets, finally into what looked like a narrow blind alley. It dead-ended. He turned the vehicle sharply right and what had looked like just a shadow between sections of the building turned into a steep incline.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see." Unlike his normal stoic, not quite emotionless tone, there seemed to be amusement in his voice.

They turned a corner and the dark, scarred concrete around them gave way to a wide, jagged canyon, over half a mile long. Red stone walls that erosion had faded to pink and even white in some places rose hundreds of feet from the valley floor. The whole place looked as if it had been created by some giant artist's hand. Adina could only gawk at the stunning natural landscape. At the top of the canyon on all sides as far as she could tell, stood ruined buildings. Some had crumbled and crashed down into what she now realized was a massive rift in the earth. Rifts like this were rare and from what she'd heard, extremely dangerous. The gigantic bombs used in the final years of the war caused catastrophic seismic shifts that opened rifts like this one even decades after the last bombs fell. But this one was

beautiful

. The red stone picked up the sun turning deep pink and orange, the bright blue sky above seemed brighter, no doubt an optical illusion caused by the color of the canyon walls. The buildings standing between the two were like teeth separating earth and sky. As they turned onto another dangerously steep path, she saw pools of water along the bottom of the rift. Many were cloudy jade green, the earth around them brightly hued in iridescent oranges, reds, yellows and whites. Other pools were crystal clear, deepest cerulean blue. Adina stared in amazement. She'd never seen anything so vibrant in the natural world.

Asher chuckled and she tore her eyes from the beautiful pools. The corner of his mouth had come up. This time she was sure it was a smile. "You should see your face."

"What is this place?" She turned back, drinking in the natural beauty as they reached the bottom of the slope.

"Safe."

"But, how can it be safe. This is a quarantine zone?"

"The biological agents that this place was quarantined for died off a long time ago. There are still some dangerous spots, but for the most part it's as safe as anywhere else. Mostly because no one comes here." He gestured out the windows. "I found this years ago on a patrol." He gestured upward. "Damn near drove off the edge up there." He pulled the truck up to a set of clear pools, tucking the vehicle in against a towering red stone pillar. "We're here." He shut the engine off and climbed out.

A few moments later, her door was pulled open and he reached up for her. "Come on." She set the blanket aside and put her foot on the first step down, facing him and letting him help her down. Here belly twinged as her body lengthened with his hands under her arms. He pulled her close as he lowered her, her breasts passing close to his face and against his body as he lowered her to the ground. Her face, neck and chest were on fire again.

"Thank you." She blushed harder at the way his blue eyes watched hers.

"You're welcome." He turned and walked toward the back of the truck. "When was the last time you had a bath?"

She wrinkled her face. She couldn't be sure if he was joking, being mean or neither. "Uhhh... About a week ago?" She followed, hearing him pull the doors of the back of the truck open. By the time she got there, he had his jacket and pistol belt off. His sweat soaked shirt clung to his broad shoulders and muscular torso.

Adina was used to men being thin, even if they were strong, not

big

the way he was. He pointed to the terraces of pools. "Start in the lowest ones. The flow from the springs pushes the water out over the sides into the lower pools. So, you use the lower pools to get clean, so you don't contaminate the other ones, and move to the higher ones once you're clean. And they get hotter." He pointed, "Until you get to that one. It's too hot for anyone, I think." He kicked off his boots and grabbed some bags from a storage bin.

"The water's warm?" She turned in a circle taking in the wonderous place. "How?"

"Geothermal activity. The water gets pushed up from near volcanic vents. It also picks up trace elements that are good for healing in the process." He walked toward the water and dropped the bags a few yards from the edge. He shook out a tarp and weighed the corners down with rocks.

Then without another word, he threw an arm around her waist, put her over his shoulder, picked up his pistol belt and marched to the nearest pool.

She flailed, her belly aching as she tried to push herself off. "Wait! Stop!" He dropped the pistol belt on the shore, waded in until he was about waist deep and dumped her unceremoniously into the warm water.

Her backside bumped gently onto the round stones of the bottom and it took some effort to get her feet under her. She pushed up, splashing to keep her balance, sputtering and spitting water. "What is wrong with you!" She dragged her hair out of her face. When she finally blinked the water out of her eyes, he was smiling. An honest, if slightly lopsided expression. The creases between his eyebrows were gone. He looked years younger. She staggered on the uneven bottom and her mind was just registering how pleasantly warm the water was when she saw his eyes travel down from her face. She looked down. Her shirt was all but transparent, clinging to her breasts and erect nipples. She crossed her arms and dunked down into the water. "Well, don't look!"

But his grin, so out of character, tickled her. A nervous smile and laugh suddenly sprang up.

He cocked his head playfully. "They're kinda hard to miss." He smiled again and pushed through the water to her then held out a piece of soap. "Wash." He indicated her clothes. "And it's easier to wash your clothes while they're still on you."

She took the soap, still ducked down, a crooked grin of her own stuck to her face like her sopping hair.

He stepped away, pulling another piece of soap out of his pocket and with a smile let himself fall over backward into the water with a splash. She couldn't help but laugh at the boyish action. He stayed under for a moment then pulled himself back up, tossing his head back to throw his hair back out of his face. Then he started scrubbing his shirt.

Adina lifted the bar of soap to her nose. It smelled like him. Clean, a nice smell, not harsh or astringent. She turned her back to him and rubbed soap over her clothes. It lathered nicely in the warm water. She kept looking over her shoulder. He was concentrating on an oil stain on his shirt, then dunked down again. When he stood up, he peeled off his shirt, rinsed it thoroughly and threw it over a rock

Adina nearly dropped the soap.

Scars, large and small crossed his torso. She'd seen bullet scars before. There were two right next to each other under his left arm. She was so focused on the terrible scars that she barely noticed the black, abstract, curvilinear tattoos on his chest and shoulders. They were fierce, with what looked like stylized talons interwoven with curving, concentric whiplash curves. He was bruised almost black on his right side. More tattoos ran from his wrists to his elbows, precise flowing patterns made up of repeating geometric shapes. The burn scar on his left hand was part of a larger burn that marred the tattoo right up to his elbow.

Confusion tore through her like a thousand-pound boar through a tent. Under the scars was hard muscle. She'd seen very few men so strongly built, and every part of her

wanted

him. But the scars and their story of pain and brutality were heartbreaking. Her heart twisted like someone had grabbed it and was pulling it into a knot while she ached for him from the center of her being. She looked at the massive machine and the scars on it, then back to Asher. The image of them rolling off side by side assembly lines returned.

Machines of war.

He turned back with a grin and saw her staring. His expression stuck for a moment as he watched her expression, then his smile faded. Following her gaze, he looked down. "You've seen scars before, haven't you?" There was an unapologetic edge to his voice and the matter of factness had crept back in. Her heart fell at its return. The creases reappeared between his eyebrows. He raised his arms as if to say, "This is me," and turned slowly, so she could see the roadmap of pain written across his skin.