Justin had taken to wearing a cape due to the chilly air inside the lair. He also felt it gave him a greater appearance of authority, now that he was their leader, not that he wanted to become imposing or dominating. He just wanted to show confidence in his new role, and one way to do that was how he dressed. He no longer dressed like a guard, trading the blue and yellow get-up for a light grey shirt, a navy vest, and on some days, like today, his black cape.
The spring breeze flowed gently through it as he made his way to the fields. The sun would soon be setting, and the farmers were packing it in for the day. Only a few of them were truly dedicated to farming. With the exception of a few positions, the rats rotated the jobs that needed to be done, whether it was cooking, plowing, cleaning, constructing, or childcare, though the school had permanent teachers and assistants, since their jobs were considered some of the most important. All the other fields of work had a permanent rat in charge, a manager in a way; there was a head cook, head bookkeeper and librarian, Arthur was head engineer, and Orion Captain of the guard. Under each of them were various assistants who held permanent positions, but they only made up dozens of jobs out of hundreds. Even those in charge got down on their hands and knees when it came their time to clean the kitchen. No one liked doing the dirty jobs, but most of them agreed they should all help in every field possible. They felt it would create a stronger community. Unfortunately, not everyone liked this ideology.
Several rats, most of them from the council, felt they shouldn't have to be subjected to "back-breaking chores". They would always weasel their way off demanding work schedules, would always have an excuse when their turn came up in the rotation. Of course, Justin could understand the complaint, to an extent. It had been figured out long ago Orion couldn't boil water without messing up, so it was clear he'd never do work in the kitchen, and Arthur had absolutely no ability to work with children, so he was left off the daycare rotation. But that wasn't from a lack of trying on either rat's part. What annoyed Justin were the rats who just refused to work, or if they did end up working, they performed so poorly they just ended up being in the way of the others. Who stuck out the most was a young man named Cameron.
Having lived most of his life in the rosebush, Cameron had never known hardship. In fact, the move to Thorn Valley had been the most physically exerting thing he'd ever done. His only talent was politics, as he had an instinct for what was best for the community, overall. It wasn't that he was flat-out selfish, he was just conceded in matters that concerned him directly. He reminded Justin of Jenner, in a way.
Enough of that, Justin told himself, pushing the negative thoughts aside. He arrived at the fields to see Jacob, the rat in charge of farming and head botanist. Jacob spent as much time experimenting with seeds as he did planting them, and had even been dubbed the "Leaf Chief". Orion had coined it, and Justin snickered whenever he heard the phrase, as well as kicked himself for not thinking of it first.
Jacob had been one of the hardest working rats before Justin and the others had arrived, and his workload had only doubled as he rushed to plant more food ahead of schedule, in order to handle the sudden boom in population. Originally, he was supposed to have six months more, experimenting with what worked and what didn't, but the plan had been cut short, like every long-term goal they'd had, because of NIMH. He was similar to Justin in build, though a little shorter. They were close to the same age, as well. After that, most similarities ended. Jacob's fur was light brown, almost orange, and he was known for being soft spoken, a rat of few words. There was a deep concentration in his eyes, as if he were constantly working out problems in his head. He was also known to stay up later than almost anybody, and was often seen wandering the halls at night. Usually, the guard on duty had to remind him to go get some sleep.
At the moment, Jacob was clapping dirt from his hands, surveying his handiwork. A simple nod acknowledged his leader's presence.
"How's it look?" Justin asked.
"Pretty good," Jacob replied, leaning over to grab a pack of small tools. "It looks like things are going to be better than I'd originally thought," he glanced at the field. "Some of the stuff is already showing sprouts."
"Really?" Justin asked.
"Well, the lettuce is, but that grows fast anyway," Jacob shrugged. "But overall, I think we'll be okay."
"You think so?"
"Yes," Jacob strapped on his backpack. "Unless there's some kind of disaster, of course. Excuse me,"
Justin watched as he went to a group of rats gathered around a plow, helping them carry it in for the day. He laughed to himself, slipping his hands in his pockets. His right fell around a folded sheet of paper that had been on his mind most of the day, a letter to him he hadn't expected to get. He'd read so many times it was now memorized, the words repeating over and over in his head. Even as he felt it, he was going over the letter, beginning to end.
It had been a big surprise when the letter arrived, in a fury of black feathers. The commotion had gathered a large group, including all those outside and those near enough to the entrance to hear what was going on. There had also been a group of school children who, coincidentally, had been learning about birds that week. When Justin had arrived, the bird, who he'd found out was named Jeremy, had been showing the children how far he could spread his wings, and generally trying to impress them. He'd become so involved with showing off he'd almost forgotten to pass the note on to Justin. Several rats around him were curious, but they'd lost interest when they'd found out who it was from. It wasn't they hadn't cared, they'd been glad to hear of NIMH's departure from the farm, they'd just felt it was more a letter written specifically for their leader, and they'd left him alone with it.
As he stood looking over the farmland, he found himself pulling the letter out and reading it once again. He'd recited the first line before it was even open. When he reached the end, his thoughts paused at the different handwriting. His body grew warm just from reading that part, seeing her words, her name. He'd been lost in his dreams all day because of them. He could tell she wasn't good at writing, but knew that she'd tried from how deeply depressed the letters were. He could physically feel the words with his fingertips. After a minute, he folded the page and put it back in his pocket, his hand resting on the indentations of her words. He kept walking the perimeter of the farmland, simply lost in thought, only returning to the entrance when the sun had touched the horizon. There were a few rats there when he arrived, grouped around a large metal box extending from the hillside.
It was an intercom, linked to a large network inside that allowed them to communicate across long distances without walking them. It could be used to get supplies, assistance, or, if needed, as an alarm, all by putting in various, three-digit codes on a phone-like keypad. At the push of a button, it was possible for someone to speak to the entire lair. It was more of a convenience than anything else, but at the moment, the main-entrance speaker wasn't working. Arthur, Orion, and two others stood to the side, with a girl in blue and yellow lying on the ground, working with the wires hanging over her head.
Her name was Brenda, one of few females in the guard, and a natural electrician. She was slightly short and full-figured, though not actually fat. Closest to her was Arthur, a strong rat with a stocky build, clothed in a simple brown working smock. He was listening as Orion lectured one of the guards for being late.
"It doesn't matter what you were doing," the black creature was saying. "That's not the point."
"But Cameron said it was okay," pleaded Mason.
"I don't care what Cameron said," Orion shot back. "He's not your boss. You should have checked in. On second thought," he added. "You shouldn't have been helping him in the first place. Let Cameron's lazy ass do his own work." He looked up as Justin came near. "What's up, chief?"
Justin nodded to the intercom. "How about what's up with this?" he said jokingly. "Is it broken again?"
"Yes, again," Arthur said with a sigh. "It's quickly becoming more trouble than it's worth."
"It's not too much trouble if you know what you're doing," Brenda said slyly, twisting wires over her head.
"That's enough from you tonight, thank you," Arthur told her.
"Suit yourself," she shrugged. "I guess I'll have to give my words of wisdom to someone else."
Justin noticed a crude bandage wrapped around his right paw. "What'd you do to your hand?" he asked. He then reached out and inspected it himself.
"Just me being stupid," Mason replied. "I was climbing the hill earlier and slipped. I tried to grab something and sliced it open on a rock. It's nothing."
"Looks like a lot of blood there," Justin noted. "You ought to have Ash take a look at it."
"Humph, yes," Mason muttered. "Dr. Ash, or his wonderful assistant, Alexander. That's not right, those two."
"What did you say?" barked Orion.
"Nothing."
"What's this talk of Cameron?" Justin asked them both.
"I was just helping the guy out," Mason said defensively. "That's all."
"And neglecting his duties at it," added Orion. "Cameron asked him to carry some of the heavier books from the library back to his office," he shook his head. "Typical Cameron crap. Anyway, he made our young guard here late by a half-hour this morning."
"Isn't part of my duties helping others?" Mason protested. "Isn't that the point of being a guard?"
"The point is, you were supposed to relieve someone who had been up all night and wanted to go home," Orion sighed in frustration. "You weren't helping him out much, were you?"
"Mason, it's not that you were doing anything wrong," Justin told him. "It's just whatever you were doing for Cameron he could've easily done for himself. He's not incapable of work, he just acts like it."
"Okay!" Mason all but threw his hands in the air. "Okay, I get it!"
"Then don't do it again," Orion told him. "Now, go get that hand taken care of."
Mason did a half-hearted salute, then headed off with his tail hanging low.
"You know," Justin told Orion. "It's really Cameron you should be yelling at."
"I know, I know," said the Captain. "He'll get a piece of me later. That's not the first time he's had the guards do his work for him."
"Speaking of other people's work," Justin said playfully. "Arthur, why is Brenda lying on the ground with her hands in your intercom?"
"Hey, what can I say," the big rat said in mock defense. "She's a woman; she's got small hands. We have to find some use for her."
Brenda's hands dropped to her sides. She looked at him from the ground. "Small hands, eh?" She glanced at Justin and Orion, then back at Arthur, more specifically a peak under his shirt. "From my point of view, that's not the only thing that's small," she said, going back to the wires.
"Whoa, hey, now," Justin said. He and Orion stepped back, laughing. "The last thing we need is sexual harassment on the job."
"Oh, there's nothing harassing about it," she winked at him.
"What was that comment Mason made about Ash?" he asked Orion.
"I don't know," the guard shrugged. "I've heard a couple others say unpleasant things about Ash and Alexander, but I have no idea what they mean."
"They're probably just a bunch of babies who don't like going to the doctor," said Arthur.
Brenda closed the intercom and stood up. "I think that about does it for this piece of junk."
"Piece of junk?" Arthur protested.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she ran her fingers down the metal box, taking on the personality of a cheerleader. "It's really a fabulous invention. Whoever designed it must be a genius."
Arthur was nose-to-nose with her, his words slow and deliberate, as he said, "Why don't you make this genius happy and test it out?"
Justin and Orion could tell there was more to the conversation than playful banter. Brenda drummed her fingers on the edge before jogging off down the corridor. After a moment, her voice came through the speaker. "Can you boys hear me?"
Arthur pressed the button and replied, "We can hear that lovely voice loud and clear, Brenda."
"You men would be helpless without me."
"So, Brenda," Arthur continued. "About that remark you made. Would you be interested in finding out the truth behind that?"
After a long pause, she said, "We'll see."
Justin started laughing again. "C'mon, let's get inside."
"We're coming up," said Arthur.
"I said, 'we'll see'."
The trio walked down the hall as the sun vanished completely outside.
"Who's on guard tonight?" Arthur asked.
"Jessica," said Orion. "So, tell me, Arthur, how long have you been fornicating with my young guard, Brenda?"
Arthur gave him a sidelong glance. "Longer than you can imagine."
Justin laughed again as they went on, hands in his pockets, fingers on his letter.
(****)
Darkness blanketed the sky over Thorn Valley. There was no moon, and without clouds the stars glowed vibrantly. Jenner hugged the trees and brush as he approached the lair. He could make out the entrance easily by its nightlights. He main hallway was also lit up, an upside-down runway stretching back into the hillside. He used his black cape and the shadows for cover, able to get quite close without the guard noticing. When he got close enough to see who it was, Jenner laughed bitterly.
Jessica? He thought. That little scrap, a guard? He crouched low to the ground and watched her movements. He knew the layout, having seen many plans and the final design he'd tried to find flaws in. He hated the idea of Thorn Valley altogether, but decided he might as well capitalize on its weaknesses, since the colony was already there.
And one of those weaknesses was the night guard. There was only one at the entrance, with just the nightshift commander checking on his rounds. All he needed was some sort of distraction, to get her out of the way so he could slip inside. Though he knew he could take her in a fight, he didn't want to run the risk of her sounding the alarm. He watched her, sitting on a footstool and looking deep in thought as she stared out at the horizon. He could actually get within a few feet of the door without her noticing, but it wasn't close enough.
Jenner went through several options in his head, trying to find the best course of action. He studied the hillside, deciding it wasn't too steep to climb silently, then judged if he could throw something hard enough to disturb the surrounding foliage. He silently gathered a few sticks and leaves, stacking them close together in pile. He grabbed a rock, one that wasn't too heavy to throw, though had enough weight to make noise, and slipped it in his pocket. He made his way to the hillside, climbing as softly as he could, trying not to grunt or even breathe too loudly. As he ascended, he kept his eye on Jessica, who still sat, oblivious to his presence The light from the entrance shined a few feet into the field, though not on the hill itself, keeping him in darkness. He climbed several feet up the face, edging slowly to left, toward the entrance. Lying on his stomach, he crawled hand-over-hand, always getting a firm grip on the soil before advancing. He was now three feet above the entrance, and studied the girl sitting to right of the doorway. There was a slight lip in the hillside, a ledge where he could rest and use as a shield to hide behind. He edged as close to it as he could, accidentally disturbing loose soil. He held his breath, listening as it skirted down the hill's face, landing right on Jessica's shoulder.
Slightly startled, the young guard stood, taking a step, gazing at the hill. Jenner held himself still as he could, fighting the reflex to gasp for air as her eyes met his. She stared at the hill for several seconds then, unable to see anything, turned back to the entrance. Her eyes had adjusted to the night, the hall's glow blurring her vision as she brushed the soil away, settling back on her stool. Relaxing slightly, Jenner released what little breath he had, keeping a firm grip on the soil. He waited for her awareness to drop, watching the back of her head as she fell back into a rhythmic breathing pattern. Then he moved his body into a new position, hand slipping to his pocket, eyes never leaving her head. He gripped hard on the rock, rising just enough to spot the pile of leaves he'd made earlier, and drew his arm back.
Barely making a sound, he heaved the stone across the distance, hugging the ground as it smacked the foliage. Jessica rose at the noise, moving slowly. She was still so long he thought she wouldn't take the bait, but then she walked inside, coming back out alone, a keychain flashlight in her hands. His plan had worked, but still he waited, wanting enough space between them so he could get inside without catching her attention. He watched as she walked deliberately toward the tree line, then stopped. The moments went by like hours, then she switched on the light, walking further into the field. He watched as she went one yard, then two. When she'd gone three, he went for it, dashing down the hill, grasping the edge of the tunnel's roof, swinging down and in. He threw himself as far as he could, feet landing with a thud that sounded impossibly loud, looking back to see she hadn't noticed. He hen sprinted down the empty hall, stopping at the hanger-like doors of the storeroom. They were unlocked, and he pulled one open just enough to get inside, slamming it shut behind him.
He fumbled a minute in the dark, eventually flicking on the light switch. It was a cavernous chamber, filled with appeared to be piles of trash thrown aimlessly about, when in fact, it was the possessions the rats had yet decided what to do with. And somewhere among the piles, Jenner began looking for the possessions he'd come for.
(****)
Orion had made his usual rounds after coming inside, hitting every point a guard was stationed. His shift had ended hours ago, but he liked being visible to the lair at all hours of the day. It was an extra incentive for his men, and women, to stay aware. It let them know he didn't tolerate tardiness or laziness on the job, and it let him see those he normally didn't get to during the day. There was no real reason to do the extra time, but he felt it was something every good Captain should do. He'd gotten the idea from Justin when he'd been Captain.
It was nearly eleven when he got home, which was later than usual for him. Most of the halls were empty, and the overhead lights had automatically dimmed. His apartment was off the second entrance, close to the school, library, and Nicodemus' quarters. The pick had been intentional, as Sarah, who lived with him, worked as a teacher for younger children, as well as a daycare provider for those not yet old enough for school. He shut the door slowly as he entered, hearing sounds from the bedroom that signified his love was still awake. She was sitting at her desk, scribbling away on a sheet of paper. She'd turned off the overhead light, working by the glow of a candle. He stood in the doorway, stretching his arms up with a yawn. He grasped the top of the frame and leaned forward.
"You know that's not good for your eyes," he told her.
"I know," she said soft, not looking up. "I just try to conserve when I can."
"What're you working on?" he asked, and made a half-hearted attempt to see.
"The daycare schedule for next week," she replied. Sarah was also the head of her department, and made out the schedules for the rats who rotated as daycare and teaching assistants.
"Oh." Orion undressed, taking off his sleeveless black vest and shirt. He tossed the shirt on a pile of dirty clothes, folding the vest for the next day. He stood silently, rubbing his eyes, looking at the clock on the wall, really a watch face. He groaned slightly, realizing he only had seven hours before he had to relieve Castor from duty. He flopped on he bed. "I gotta quit doing these late nights all the time."
She hummed in agreement, not taking her eyes from her work. Orion watched her from the bed, studying ever arch and curve of her body from beneath her semi-transparent nightgown. Her fur was a soft light brown, with white going from the bottom of her muzzle to her thighs, a color scheme that contrasted perfectly with Orion's solid black coat. She also had a slim, delicate build, though without being skinny. She was slightly older than he was, having been born to originals, but that didn't really matter to anyone. Age became meaningless to them once someone reached maturity.
Orion stretched more as he lay in bed. "You know Brenda, the guard?" he asked.
She paused a moment. "Yeah, I know her," she said. "We were in the same class. Why?"
"Did you know she's got a thing going with Arthur?"
"With Arthur?" she chuckled. "How long's that been going on?"
He shook his head. "I don't know, I just found out about it today."
She let out a, "Hmm," then went back to her schedule.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing," she said softly. "It's just that…they make a cute couple."
He grunted in agreement, once more studying her in the candlelight. The orange flame danced and flickered, casting a soft glow to her fur.
God, she looks beautiful. Salacious thoughts began streaming into his mind. At first, he fought the urge, then realized she still had a few days until the schedule was due, and that a little distraction wouldn't hurt. He rolled out of bed, creeping up behind her and slipping his arms around her waist. He held her to his bare skin, gently kissing her neck before whispering, "We make a cute couple, too."
She raised an eyebrow, smiling as she once more hummed in agreement. He nuzzled her cheek with his nose.
"It's nice to see you smile, too."
"It's nice to smile," she said. She put down her pencil, not having any desire to take it back up.
"You know what'll make you smile more?" he asked, hiding his mischief.
"Tell me."
"This." His hands moved slowly toward her abdomen, then he arched his fingers and dove into a full-on tickle frenzy. Pinned within his arms, she could do little more than kick her feet, squealing with laughter. She grabbed his wrists, trying desperately to break his grasp.
"Stop, stop!" she shrieked, out of breath. Her sides ached from laughter.
"Stop?" he asked without doing so."
"Yes, stop it! Ahh, stop!"
His arms suddenly clamped around her, his breath slightly heavy from the struggle.
"Okay, I'll stop."
He held still a moment, watching as she cried tears of joy and fought to catch her breath.
"On second thought," he decided, smiling. "No, I won't."
He lifted her as she shrieked again, throwing her on the bed and pouncing on her. He restarted his attack, rubbing his muzzle against her equally ticklish neck. Now completely helpless, Sarah could only scream with laughter, trying to pound on his back in a futile attempt to stop her joyful agony. She tried kicking free, but it only caused greater friction. She eventually managed to get both hands on his chest, trying to push him away.
"Stop, I give up!" she gasped breathlessly. "Stop!"
With lightning-fast reflexes, he grabbed her wrists and pinned her arms above her head, ending his tickle onslaught. He looked down at her exhausted body beneath him, watching tears of laughter stream from her eyes. He hadn't seen her this happy in years.
"You give up?" he asked.
She panted. "Yes," she said, smiling.
He lowered his face to hers, voice seductive as he asked, "Do you give in?"
"Oh, yes…" she then gave herself over to absolute pleasure.
(****)
Jenner looked at the watch he'd found in the storeroom. If it was right, which it seemed to be, then it was just past twelve-thirty. Most of the rats were either asleep, or near it. He'd found his things where he'd expected, hastily thrown into crates on the outer edge of the mess, meaning they were some of the last things brought in from the rosebush. At the moment, however, most of them were meaningless to him. There wee several journals, which no doubt had been looked through, and most of the other books he'd kept, mostly philosophy texts by Nietzsche and Freud. But what he was really after was after was a new change of clothes, as the ones he'd worn for two weeks straight had been ripped to threads from his nonstop travel to the valley. He also looked for his weapons. Aside from a sword, he owned several knives, carved by hand in a variety of shapes and sizes.
He bundled up some clothes to take with him, planning on changing after he got a chance to bathe. He thought about grabbing a new cape, dismissing the idea since that was mostly for show, and would only snag on tree branches. He also went for the knives, finding a few in one box, frowning when he saw some were missing. He found what looked to be another box of his, buried beneath two others. He grabbed them, suppressing a grunt as he heaved them aside. He figured he should've just tried moving one at a time, because whatever was in them, it was heavy. Then he pulled the uncovered crate closer, pulling off the top to reveal the rest of his collection, as well as more of his books and journals. Whoever had packed them hadn't been careful.
He squatted down, shifting through the dozens of blades, deciding which ones to take with him, for the time being. He grabbed one that was a smaller version of his sword, admiring the blade's sharpness. As he did, he leaned back on his heels and lost his balance, falling back into the two boxes he'd just moved, sending them crashing to the floor.
The clatter was thunderous, as both crates contained bits and pieces of different machines. Bolts, gears, pipes, motors, and other leftovers crashed against each other, surely alerting anyone within a hundred feet of his presence. Cursing himself, he scrambled to his feet and lunged at the door, putting his ear against it and listening for footsteps. His fur stood on end as he realized, if Jessica sounded the alarm, he was doomed. Remarkably, no such thing happened. She didn't even get on the intercom to report the noise. He heard her steps as she came to investigate.
Stupid girl, he thought to himself. Either she thought someone was working late, or something had just fallen on its own. Whichever it was, he decided to take advantage of her gullibility. Jenner flipped off the light, feeling his way behind some crates nearby, waiting in the darkness. He could see the shadows of her feet in the slim line of light beneath the doors, watched as she stopped.
No, come in here now! He suddenly feared she'd do the right thing and call for backup. Come on, you stupid girl, come in and see for yourself! He held still in his crouch, ignoring his tense muscles, feeling adrenaline rush through his veins. His body was tightly wound, a trap waiting to spring open. Jessica knocked loudly, a moment later bringing the door open, peering into the darkness. Light crept inside, but on the opposite side from Jenner's hiding place.
"Hello?" Jessica's light voice echoed against the bare walls. She looked from side to side in the gloom. "Is anyone in here?" she paused again, then slowly stepped inside, shutting the door and putting on the light at the same time. Before she could realize it, she was sprawled on the floor, tackled by some force that was still holding her down. Pinned on her stomach, she fought desperately to see her attacker, recognizing the weight upon her and struggling even more violently. Finally, she managed to roll on her back, voice trembling as she cried, "Jenner!" she was stunned, not sure what to do.
"Jessica," his voice was calm, almost purring her name. "What's a little girl like you doing here, all by herself?" as he spoke, his eyes slowly drifted up and down her body, as though examining it in some way. He was nearly twice her size, and could easily overpower her. Disgusted and dismayed, she struggled to get free. Jenner wasn't being careful, and she managed a hard blow to his chest. It knocked some of the wind out of him, making his grip loosen enough for her to squirm free. She tried running past his bent-over body, but he recovered quickly, grasping her ankle and sent her crashing back to the ground. Then he clenched her ankle with both hands, throwing her like a baseball bat into the rock wall. Her body landing with a violent thud, her mind became overwhelmed with fright and pain. Gasping for breath, she saw his sword lying on the floor, scrambling for it on her hands and knees.
Jenner moved back, watching as she stood, holding the blade defensively in front of her. She'd been injured, blood trickling from her lip, her right leg limping, her body covered in dust. He knew she was no stranger to handling a sword, as it was a required skill to become a guard, but he knew also that he had more experience, and that he was thinking far more clearly than she was. She swung wildly, Jenner avoiding it easily and placing himself between her and the door. He was unarmed, yet had the advantage. She swung again, Jenner again avoiding it, moving closer to her. Then she backpedaled, breath ragged and nervous, eyes wide and hands shaking. Jenner stayed calm, advancing slowly toward her, arms out and ready to grab her.
Sizing up the distance, Jessica leapt forward, swinging at his throat. He ducked, but she brought the blade quickly down and forward, still trying to stab him. He sidestepped, grabbing her wrist and rolling into her body, slamming her head with his elbow. The blow made her drop the sword, but he kept his grip on her and with one move had her body pinned in front of him, her back to his chest, his left arm wrapped tightly around her. This time he trapped her with all his strength, knowing it was a grip she couldn't free herself from. All she could do now was feel him breath on her cheek, wince as his claws dug into arm, as he showed his triumph.
"What's the matter, Jessica?" he asked, voice psychotically soothing. "All that training gone to waste?"
He held his head right next to hers, making it impossible for her to see him. "You know I didn't just beat you," he continued. "You beat yourself. You made a rookie mistake, reacting blindly, leaving yourself wide open. You must feel so pathetic…"
She could hear the joy in his voice, knew he smiled triumphantly when he finished.
"What do you want?" she demanded. She tried struggling, but it only tightened his already-crushing grasp.
"What do I want?" he repeated it slowly, as though it actually meant something. "Well, my dear, there are plenty of things that I want," his lips moved directly to her ear. "And also plenty of things I…need."
She was desperate, speaking quickly. "If you let me do, I'll see what I can do."
He paused, pretending to think about it. "No," he said at last. "I think I'll just…take what I want…"
His right hand had been free, and now it began roaming Jessica's body, her struggles useless as he ran his claws up her thigh to her back, over her shoulder with pseudo-sensuality. She froze, helpless as he pulled a knife from his belt, knowing any attempt to escape now would only get her killed. He brought the point to he chin, pressing gently. All she could do was hold her breath in fright. He traced the edge of her chin and brought the blade over the contours of her throat, down to the collar of her shirt. He slid his blade along the seam, slicing off a button with a move that made her shudder. Two more buttons met that fate before he tucked the blade away, sliding his hand slowly between her breasts, gripping her left one tightly and licking the inside of her ear. When she flinched away in disgust, he only laughed.
He tenderly began massaging her breast, kissing her neck, his ego increasing with her soft whimpers. He relished his victory over her, and he was going to humiliate her. He released her breast, right hand tracing back down her thigh, then hiked up her shirt and slid across her bare abdomen. She began crying, yet held her composure as she lay in his death-grip. Once again, he hissed in her ear. "You know something, Jessica?" he ran his hand through the coarse hair between her legs, fingers brushing against her most precious possession. "I haven't been with a woman for over two weeks." He probed further, tracing the edge of her womanhood. "How would you like to be the one to please me? I can guarantee you've never had anything better." He thrust his pelvis hard hers, making her gasp, his fingers on the very edge of violation. "What do you think?"
Jessica's lips were quivering, tears flowing freely down her cheeks, but she refused to break down. "I would rather die," she said, though her voice was barely strong enough to be heard. Jenner's grip tightened on her body, crushing out nearly all her breath, his right hand gripping her like a vice between her legs. He pushed himself against her back even more rudely than before.
"Oh, Jessica," he said, voice soul-crushing as ever. "You could've had it all…you'd rather die?"
"I would rather die and go to hell," she fumed. "Than fuck you, you son-of-a-bitch!"
His right hand slipped from her legs, falling behind his back. "Suit yourself," he said softly, then raised his hand high, fingers wrapped around a knife. He drove it into her ribcage, straight into her heart. She tried to scream, but the blow drained her of almost everything she had. All she could do was gasp for breath as she watched the blade sink into her chest. She tried crying out, but again her voice failed her. Her body shook, Jenner holding her taut as he rammed his knife to the hilt in her heart.
"Shhh," he whispered, watching as she struggled for her last breath. Within a few moments her body stopped convulsing, her voice falling quiet for the final time as she went limp in his arms. Then he released her, letting her body collapse on the floor. "If it makes you feel any better," he continued, leering at her. "I have better things to do than fuck you, anyway." He knelt, pulling the knife from her ribs, examining his kill as he wiped the blade clean on her shirt. "Still," he ran his hand down her thigh, then reached back to feel her rear. "I'm not saying I wouldn't have enjoyed it." He grinned, letting out a devious giggle. He continued to kneel, to leer at her body. He paused before putting his knife away, lost in thought as his eyes traced her curves. The thrill of murder was pumping adrenaline through his veins, and rubbing against her had kicked in a rush of testosterone. Staring at her body only reminded him of his burning loins. When they'd lived in the rosebush, he'd bedded a different woman every night. If it wasn't his wife, Sarah, which it had hardly ever been, it was someone else. Unlike Sarah, however, Jenner was quite skilled at hiding his affairs, either by blackmail or humiliation. Of course, there were also those few females who welcomed him, and gladly kept their secret. But for the past two weeks, he'd only had himself. The hard trek to the valley had kept his cravings in check, but now his addiction to the female body had come roaring back to life, wanting to make up for the days it had missed.
He blinked, bringing himself back to the present. He sheathed the blade and stood. "Too bad you're dead," he said matter-of-factly, then started cleaning up the mess created by the toppled crates. Killing Jessica had been part of his plan since the beginning, though he'd originally wanted to surprise her on his way out, taking care of her then. But now he had to clean up quickly, move out before whoever was on night duty made his rounds and found her missing. Rosebush procedure, and now presumably Thorn Valley's, when a guard went missing from their post was to signal every off-duty guard and form a search party, though on the farm, they'd only been able to do it at night. Now, though, since the valley had no threat of humans, daytime searches were possible. He finished straightening the crates he'd disturbed, leaving the chamber to look just as it had when he'd entered. He'd set aside fresh clothes, his sword, several knives, a sleeping bag, and a backpack to carry it all. He stuffed the things inside, tying it closed when he heard footsteps again.
The night guard, he cursed to himself. This was going to get messier than he'd thought. One missing guard was one thing, but if two ended up missing, then rats would tear the valley apart looking for clues. His adrenaline started flowing again, his plan growing more complicated by the second. As he'd done before, he switched off the light, hiding behind some nearby boxes. Once again, the footsteps stopped at the door, only this rat didn't hesitate.
(****)
Castor was finishing his rounds by checking the front post. AS he walked down the long hall to the entrance, he tried rubbing his eyes clean of any tiredness he felt. After his last tour, he'd dozed off in his office, making him late for his checkups. But he grew alert when he saw the light in a storeroom, even more when it switched off as he drew near. He quickened his pace, hoping to catch whoever was inside off guard. He threw the door open and hit the light, ready to draw his sword. Before he could say anything, he was shocked by the body lying facedown on the floor.
"What the hell?" he said aloud. He stepped toward the corpse and rolled it over. "Jessica!"
Her shirt was covered in blood, concentrated mostly over her heart. He was sure she was dead, but he knelt and checked for a pulse anyway, mind reeling in confusion.
"Who would've thought they'd make you Night Commander?"
Shocked, Castor spun fast, losing his balance and falling over. When he looked up, he saw Jenner, quietly closing the door with a sinister grin on his lips. "Jenner!" he exclaimed. "How'd you get…" he realized the answer to his question was lying dead on the floor. Getting up, he brushed the dirt off himself, forgetting his dead guard.
Jenner was motionless. "You didn't answer my question," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"I said, who made you the Night Commander?"
"What? You think I don't have what it takes?" Castor asked with a snarl.
"That's not what I asked," Jenner said calmly. "What I said was, why are you Night Commander and not Captain?"
Castor rolled his eyes. "Because Justin, in his infinite wisdom, appointed that bastard, Orion."
"Orion?" Jenner fumed.
"Justin said Orion had fairer judgment skills than I did."
"Judgment skills?" Jenner spat.
"I told him to take his skills and judge my ass," boasted Castor.
"No, you didn't."
"No, but I sure as hell wanted to. How long you been here?"
"Not very long." He motioned toward Jessica. "I only came for a few of my things when this bitch interrupted me."
Castor glanced at the body. "Too bad," he shrugged. "She had a nice ass."
"That she did," Jenner agreed. "But now that you're here, you've saved me the effort of finding you myself."
"What's going on?"
"What was left off at the rosebush will be finished here," Jenner explained. "I'm taking over this colony, and anyone who stands in my way will be destroyed, just as I did this weakling excuse for a guard." He chuckled. "Castor, my dear friend, we are going to war."
Castor's eyes couldn't hide his excitement. "We'll be there," he said.
"'We'?" Jenner asked.
Castor nodded. "Once we found out you were alive, the group stayed together; we've been awaiting your return, Jenner. None of the men ever doubted you."
"What about Sullivan?"
"That fat bastard works for Justin now," Castor spat. "It's a good thing we never let him in on the plans, or he would've spilled his guts by now."
"Yes," Jenner agreed. "In more ways than one. It was a mistake to ever think something of him."
"What's the plan?"
"We wait; I'm going to lay low for a bit," he grabbed his pack, pulling the straps over his shoulders. "Assemble the men as quietly as you can, then we'll have to meet somehow."
"That can be arranged, but you didn't help much by killing one of my guards." He motioned to the corpse. "What do we do with her?"
"I'll take care of that," Jenner said calmly.
"But I'll have to report her missing, there'll be a search party tomorrow."
"I said I'll take care of it, don't worry your pretty little head about her." He paused a second. "How often do you make your rounds?"
"Every three hours," Castor shrugged. "It takes about forty-five minutes to hit every checkpoint, the front door being the last stop."
"And would there, for any reason, be any other rat that would check up on her besides you?"
"Not unless someone went out on their own accord, which never happens this late."
"Never?" Jenner wanted to be sure.
"Never," Castor confirmed. "There's never been any report of a rat going out this late at night; not since the colony got here, and never when it was just the work crew."
"Then here's what we do," Jenner chuckled again. "You made your rounds just now, found her right where she's supposed to be. She didn't ac strange or tired in any way; she was just as she always is. On the next round you found her missing. That's it, she just turned up missing; from there you go through your normal procedure."
"There'll be a search party right away," the guard reminded him.
"That's why you're going to give me time to get away, and tomorrow we'll meet at one A.M."
"That works out perfectly," said Castor. "Pollux in on front door duty tomorrow night, so we'll get out undetected. But, where'll we meet you?"
"You'll find me," Jenner told him.
"What about her?" Castor pointed a thumb at the corpse.
"You needn't worry about young Jessica," Jenner said, then stooped to take the still-warm body in his arms. "She'll not be found by anyone, save the fish that is." His sadistic grin came back, and Castor couldn't help but share in the twisted glee.
"But there's blood on the ground," he noted.
"Then clean it up when I'm gone," Jenner walked to the door, motioning with his head. "Check outside for anyone."
Castor turned the knob and killed the lights, looking outside in both directions. Eventually, he pushed the door open. "It's clear."
Jenner stepped out, pack on his shoulders, corpse in his arms. "Remember," he said. "She was acting normally; don't create any suspicions, for anything, and make them believe you."
"They will," Castor answered, nodding.
"Tomorrow night, then. Don't bring anyone that can't be trusted." With those last words, he walked toward the front entrance, vanishing into twilight. Castor stood, watching his leader lug the dead rat effortlessly, disappear without a sound. He could only beam with pride. There's no way we can lose.
(****)
Elizabeth gazed at the stars. She hadn't been able to sleep, the decision of her family's moving weighing on her mind. From her vantage point on the large stone, she could see the farmhouse looming above the tall grass in the distance. It was silent, completely black with the night. She didn't know why she hesitated so, now that NIMH was gone. She was relieved, but still had uneasy thoughts, ones of nagging uncertainty that throbbed like a stubbed toe. A chill in the air made her pull her cape more tightly around her. As she shivered, she tried to figure out why she was so uncomfortable with the move. The other animals had already gone to their summer homes, so she knew she'd have friendly company when she moved her family. Her house was protected, would be there when they returned in the fall. NIMH was gone, having been driven off by the farmer, so what was it?
She always got nervous this time of year, but it always passed in the end. But it wasn't that she felt nervous, she didn't know what to feel. There was just something in the air, something oppressive like thunder, and whatever it was, she was tired of it.
It's Justin, she told herself. You're thinking of Justin. She sighed, knowing it was true. She was always preoccupied, thinking of him, dreaming of him. Am I crazy? She asked herself. Am I crazy to want him? She didn't let her children know, but she wanted to go to Thorn Valley even more badly than they did. But when they moved, she'd have plenty of things to keep her seemed to satisfy her somewhat, until she thought more about it. What if Justin wrote back? I'll tell Jeremy where we're moving to, she thought. He can get a message to me if he has to. Yes, that's what I'll do. She nodded firmly, as if to agree with her thoughts. It's settled then, we'll leave tomorrow. At last, she'd made a decision she could live with. It wasn't the best idea in the world, but it was enough, an excuse to get going, and once she could do that, everything else would fall into place.
The sound of a twig breaking caught her attention. Her immediate thought was Dragon, and she ducked down on the rock, hoping to hide herself. She held her breath and looked around, hearing noise from somewhere, the faint sound of shifting grass. She looked straight ahead, and suddenly caught the source of the sound. Three men crouched low in the grass, all dressed in black. From her point of view, Elizabeth could their faces were painted black. They moved quickly, quietly, toward the farmhouse. They came from the right, their movements fluid like water through a stream. The sight was eerie, and Elizabeth felt her fur stand on end. She was too scared to move, and could only sit and watch. The men soon cleared the tall grass, moving quickly across the yard. She could see something in their hands, though they were hard to make out in the starlight. They reminded her of the farmer's gun, and yet, they looked nothing like the farmer's gun. They were smaller, stranger, deadlier. She shivered at her description of the things.
The men reached the house and slowed their advance, stepping slowly to the porch, still not making a sound. They went to the door, two on the left, one on the right. One of them motioned with his hand, the one on the right pulling a small metal can from his pocket. He sprayed the door's hinges, then slowly pulled it open. Elizabeth was amazed, as the screen was notoriously loud, able to be heard clear across the yard, but not this time. It opened silently. The sight perplexed her, but didn't even begin to prepare for what happened next.
The other on the left stood in front of the door, kicking it so hard it nearly flew off its hinges. They immediately stormed inside. It happened so quickly she didn't have time to jump. There was muffled commotion in the house, but it was too far to make anything out clearly. There were flashes of white from the bedroom windows, several of them, like candles burning out. Five flickers, then more flashes from the window in the hall. There were three more, then…silence.
Elizabeth released the breath she hadn't known she'd held. The world had become a surreal oddity. No sound came from the house, or any animals. The wind barely blew enough to move the grass. It was all complete silence.
Am I dreaming? Scared and confused, she slinked down the rock, going back inside for a night of cruel, uneasy sleep.