11
(Silnaday)
Chalða Cooldown
.
One of the men grabbed Hrista and dragged her roughly from the hoverbil. “You could have just asked!” she hissed.
“Like I could ask to do this?” he asked, shoving her against the vehicle and kissing her forcefully. His hands were instantly inside her pants, pushing them off her hips.
Hrista wanted to shout out, but his tongue prevented her saying more than a grunt. She feared that her nightmare was about to come true as he lifted her against the vehicle, parting her thighs around him.
“She is to be untainted!” a woman ordered half a moment before Hrista would have been forced to receive him.
“Damn it! This woman has been taunting me the entire journey! She needs it so badly!”
“Have my daughter instead,” she offered.
“Mother!” the young woman protested, but nodded a moment later, perhaps receiving mental orders from the woman.
The man put Hrista down obediently, and turned towards the offered young woman.
“Serves you right, Thorsa!” Kjane remarked with a sneer.
Thorsa glared at him a moment before the enforcement officer had her against the side of the vehicle, her legs around him, receiving his lust with loud shouts of arousal.
“Let’s get you two inside,” the woman said, ignoring her daughter. Hrista cast a quick glance at Thorsa, feeling aroused by the impromptu lovemaking.
Kjane’s nudge moved her forwards into the oppressively plain building.
“I’m Oleana. I believe you’ve heard of me before, Issyk.”
He grunted.
“And you, Miss Kulun? Have you heard of me before?”
“I don’t go by that name,” Hrista retorted.
“You are the daughter of Fain Kulun, are you not?” Oleana asked irritably.
“Yes.”
“Then Miss Kulun will do! So, have you heard of me before?”
“No. Why should I have?”
“I’m the daughter of the Empress. She’s heard of you, even if you’ve not heard of me...”
“I’ve heard of her… I’m not impressed with her policies, I must admit.”
“Most aren’t, but Mother isn’t interested in popularity, just getting things done,” Oleana explained.
“So what does she want with me?”
“I will let her tell you tomorrow.”
“She’s going to be here?”
“Most likely via PCS. She doesn’t always tell me.”
“And Kjane. What are you going to do with him?”
“Mother likes playing with her prized enemies… before she kills them.”
“Like a cloud panther? Playing with their prey before killing it?”
“Now that you mention it….” Oleana looked at Thorsa, who had just come in, looking ruffled and flushed. “I bore of this conversation. Thorsa and I need to find something to eat. See you in the morning.”
Oleana and Thorsa left the room, closing and locking the door behind them.
“Now what?” Hrista asked.
“We wait until one of us comes up with something clever,” Kjane replied, looking grim. “And prepare that I will be executed tomorrow.”
“Executed?!”
“Belmara executes most of the thorns that annoy her the most.”
Hrista looked around the small room. There was no furniture save a large bed. There were also no windows and inadequate lighting. The wall opposite the bed boasted a large screen for a Holo Projection System. Near the door was a flashoven and a chiller with a few prepackaged meals. Another door showed a tiny bathroom with a shower and a door that neither closed or locked properly when Hrista used the toilet.
When she returned to the room, she saw that Kjane had turned on a news broadcast. She sat carefully on the foot of the bed, watching the reports.
♥
A female anchorwoman reported.
“Today’s new cases of Decima have reached 300, up from 150 yesterday when Irola had its first death from the disease. 45-year-old Hraeva Hollins was a healthy individual before she contracted the disease two weeks ago. We will hear from health correspondent Ronald Peterson. Is this typical?”
“This is one of the things that is unusual about Decima. Normal seasonal illnesses take out the immune-compromised, very old and very young. Decima seems to be choosing members of the population in their 40s or 50s.”
“So, people outside that age group are safe?”
“We can’t discount anything yet. This disease is brand new – only in the Distant Lands the past couple of months, killing tens of thousands of people, approximately one tenth of everyone who contracts the disease.”
“Has the daughter of Ms. Hollins been found?”
“Not yet. There’s speculation that she’s left Irola – taking the disease with her if she’s contagious.”
“What kind of symptoms are we seeing?” the anchorwoman asked.
“Typical cold and flu symptoms like nasal congestion, runny nose, fever, sore throat… but the most telling symptom is an unrelenting phlegmy cough,” the man replied.
“How long does someone have the disease before they show symptoms?”
“About a week, as far as we can see – so, about 9 days.”
“What should someone do if they think they’ve been exposed?”
“Stay home. Don’t go anywhere. If you must go out, wear a mask to protect others.”
“Thank you Mr. Peterson.” His picture disappeared, to be replaced by the picture of a young woman. “This is Hrista Hollins. She’s the daughter of Hraeva who died yesterday. She is being sought by police and government officials to be quarantined. Do not approach her if you see her, but call Emergency Services for assis...”
The picture disappeared.
Hrista tried to wipe the tears off her face before Kjane turned back to her.
“You’re a wanted woman,” Kjane commented, sitting next to her on the end of the bed.
Hrista looked away from him.
His arm came around her, his other hand touched her face and intercepted a tear, then another. “I’m sorry,” he said, turning her face to look at him. He kissed one of the tears, then captured her lips. Hrista met his kiss desperately, clinging to the one hope she had left. That somehow, they would find a way for him to not die… some way for them to go to Çtarest together and find her father and brothers.
The tongue that entered her mouth was welcomed by her own tongue, which played with his, and relished his flavor as if it was the very nourishment which would keep her alive.
“Aren’t you afraid of Decima?” she asked when they parted for a moment.
“The only thing I’m afraid of is not being able to fulfill my promise to you,” he replied. “This virus is a hoax. It’s not real...”
“My mother died.”
“Even hoaxes kill people sometimes. The one thing I can tell you beyond a shadow of doubt is that your mother didn’t die of Decima. We should eat something though – aren’t you hungry?
“Starving!”
“Then let’s eat… and I’ll tell you what I know about Decima and the Empress’ plots. After all, someone’s going to have to lead T.R.A.S.H. when I’m gone.”
“Me?!” she asked incredulously.
“You’re the only one I can hand it to – which means you need to know everything.”
If you have enjoyed this book, I would be grateful if you could put your thoughts as a review on [Goodreads](coming soon) for me.
Buy at: Books2Read
Other chapters of stories about Decima...
Decima: Ground Zero - chapter 1
Decima: One Mission - chapter 1
Maps and Guides
Apothecary Kit, Dec 2019 - part of the kit of a good healer
Map of Kranisis
This book takes place on Irola.
Çtarest is also mentioned. That is the giant mountain that forms the border between Çtaráña, Shayanda and Ubre'in.
Writing and artwork copyright myself 2005-2105 – all rights reserved.
If you are interested in helping me publish these works, please contact me on Facebook or Discord, viking-ventures#2883.
Lori Svensen
author/designer at A'mara Books
photographer/graphic artist for Viking Visual
(Buy my work at RedBubble, TeePublic, PicFair and DeviantArt.)
verified author on Goodreads
(Buy my books at Books2Read and at LBRY)
find me on Twitter
Join The Best Natural Health Community on Hive
