The Last Bastion of the Living (The Last Bastion #1)(86)

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you.”

He was gone.

Closing her eyes, her thoughts rested on him. He was tenacious and he was a man of his word. He would do everything he could to keep her informed even though her superiors saw fit to keep her and the others in the dark. Her anger against the SWD and Omondi was growing. Jameson’s condition was a sign that not all was well and that they were all in danger.

But if Dwayne was searching for answers, she knew he would find them.

Words from a previous conversation slithered through her mind. He had teased her about how he always found out the truth. The allusion to their beginnings had made her smile. It had taken her a very short time to fall madly in love with him, but she had been keenly aware of the ring on his finger. She had avoided revealing her feelings at all costs even though she saw him every day during physical therapy. They often chatted on their return walk to their rooms. Even though she had been resolute about not emotionally investing her heart in him, she had cherished those long slow walks. One day she had noticed the ring was gone. She had wondered if he had merely forgotten to wear it.

“I’m going to kiss you now. Any objections?” he had said.

There was no hesitation as she had pressed her lips to his and let him claim her heart. That kiss had been like no other she had ever shared with anyone. In his arms, she had felt so safe, so loved, and so cherished. The passion between them had been overpowering.

Her eyes still closed, she touched her lips…remembering.



Intertwined, they hid in the shadows of the building, sheltered by a giant oak tree. The scent of his freshly washed hair mingled with the flowery fragrance of her own shampoo. His body was hard and strong as it pressed against her. His lips were both loving and demanding as they kissed. She’d never wanted the kiss to end even when her breath was gone and her knees shook. Her fingers dared to slide under his shirt as he buried his hands in her hair.

“We should go somewhere…private and talk,” he finally whispered against her lips.

They had managed to make it to her room, but the talking hadn’t come until much later…



*




“Dwayne,” she whispered, waking.

Sitting bolt upright in her chair, Maria stared at the console in shock. Checking her wristlet, she saw that it had not buzzed her into consciousness. She had not been in torpor.

She had been asleep.

Confused and reeling, she swung out of her chair and stumbled to the open doorway of the carrier, sidestepping the bodies of her squad frozen in the torpor. Leaping to the ground, she stared up at the starry sky above. Her body felt oddly alive as she processed what had just happened. A nervous giggle flitted from her lips as she felt the pleasant sting of arousal burning between her thighs.

She felt alive.

Pressing her hands to her neck, she felt no pulse. She ceased to breathe, and felt no need for air.

But she felt…aroused. She had fallen asleep.

What did it mean?

Then she heard a scream emanating from the collapsed building nearby. Anguished cries were caught by the wind and swept away, diminishing their sound, but she knew what it was.

It was Jameson crying out in hunger and pain.

He had not fallen into torpor.



*



The screams emanating from the collapsed house were full of desperation. Denman and Maria hesitated in the darkened doorway.

“And his wristlet alarm is off for sure?” Denman asked again.

Maria felt agitated by his question. She gave him a curt nod of her head.

They had left the squad behind in torpor. It was best not to rouse them until they had a handle on the situation. Before they had left the carrier, Maria had performed a quick scan of the area. So far, Jameson’s screams had not stirred the Inferi Scourge that were within a two mile radius.

Slipping into the house, Maria heard Denman follow.

They found Jameson where they had left him. He had managed to sit up and was tucked into a corner of the dining area off the kitchen. Reclining against the wall, he was crying out as his body seized. Flashing a light toward him, Maria was shocked to see tears streaming down his face.

“Denman!”

“I see it!” The medic scrambled over the remains of the dining room table and chairs and squatted next to Jameson.

Spit flecked his lips as Jameson wept. His red and swollen eyes stared at Denman in fear.

“Jameson, I need you to remain calm, okay? I need to take some scans and a few samples of your tissue so we can figure out what is happening to you,” Denman said in a soothing tone. “I need you to not try to bite me. Do you understand me?”

Jameson nodded, but seemed unable to actually answer.

“Do not try to attack me, or I will leave you here.”

“Hungry!” Jameson sobbed. “Hungry!”

“I know. Just let me do my job, okay? We’ll figure out what is going on.”

Jameson curled in on himself, trembling violently, his lips pressed tightly together.

Denman glanced at Maria. She gave him a swift nod. If Jameson attacked, she would move in.

Maria stood nearby watching as Denman cautiously performed a variety of tests on the sobbing young man. It was obvious that Jameson was in terrible pain. He was trembling violently and his teeth were chattering.

After twenty-five minutes, Denman finally finished his tests. “Kurt, I appreciate your cooperation. I’m going to transmit these results to the SWD and we’re going to get you help. Do you understand?”