THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Apparently it was Christmas Eve according to Hawk. Which meant nothing to Mercy, who didn’t even bother to track the days unless Hawk forced her to wear one of orbital division’s wristwatches, which gave you a time and date on the face. The watches were rare given scavenger division had cleared what they could find on their general sweeps. And most of what was left no longer worked. 

The wristwatches were a leftover from the TB—the time before—but Mercy wondered if orbital division changed the actual time and date according to their schedule. 

The quantum assembly claimed it was five hundred years since the downfall of humanity’s superiority, but for a good while there, when everything went dark—limbo time when the survivors emerged from the war a fractured and desolate race—no one kept time. 

Mercy stood at the edge of the rocky outcrop overlooking her home, a vast sprawl of decayed buildings stretching far along the coastal horizon. The sunset hues were glorious tonight, deep pinks and oranges, fading upward to a deepening blue, threatening to degrade into the night sky high above her.

Home base was too far to make it before nightfall, but if she hurried she’d make squatter’s camp before then. 

Anytime was a rotten time to be away from the safety of home base, but nighttime was the danger zone. 

Mercy shouldn’t have stayed so long at the old quarry hunting for rhubarb and mint. But Hawk had discovered an old recipe in his archives and was keen to try it out. A Christmas recipe. 

He was obsessed with celebrating the rituals of the TB, having studied them at length. There was a world of rituals for him to explore, each with their variances and hilarities, some requiring strict adherence and some just plan confusing, yet all ridiculous to Mercy. And now with all the information a chaotic jumble of half destroyed books, cipher squad was having a hard time organizing, coding and cataloguing the old ways.

Time was irrelevant to Mercy. All the same, she knew she’d been a member of cipher squad for four years because Hawk recorded it on his homemade calendar, which people were big on using during the TB—she knew that little kernel of information thanks to Hawk; in fact, everything she knew from the TB she’d learned once she met Hawk, who was obsessed with anything that came before.   

From what Mercy could make out, humans still interested in the old ways numbered on one hand, Hawk being number one. But history didn’t fill your belly today or keep you alive tomorrow. Besides, their lives were a constant struggle to bother worrying if history would repeat itself. Hawk had found the phrase in one of his beloved books, taking it as his mantra every time someone ribbed him over his obsession.

Mercy shouldered her pack and headed down the rocky slope toward the city. Squatter’s camp was at the base of the mountain on the fringe of Jericho, as were a handful of other camps, scattered around the fringes for those caught too far from home base so close to nightfall. 

Storm squad was the only division crazy enough to wander around after dark. But they had vehicles and ammo. All Mercy carried was her pistol and a poor aim, regardless of how many times she hit the range. All because she was short-sighted but refused to attend medic. Those butchers were always looking for their next guinea pig.

She’d not gone far down the mountain when she came across a landslide, which diverted her route farther left of where she wanted to head, adding more descent time than was comfortable. Passing over new ground with her less than stellar eye-sight made the going tough and slowed her progress until the darkening hues sucked the clarity from her vision and turned all the boulders into seemingly unnavigable blobs of gray. 

She’d not factored this delay into her timing, so by the time she reached the bottom of the mountain, her surroundings had lost their color and the cold was settling in. By the time Mercy hit the pockmarked road, a map of stars had emerged through the darkening blue. Not good news. 

“Shit,” she hissed as she stumbled along. 

No lights filtered this far from the center of the city to the forgotten areas on the outskirts of the desolate city. While any place was a dangerous place to be alone at night, the outskirts were extra bad news. She rested her hand on her pistol to reassure herself she’d be all right. 

Unfortunately, she was now far left of squatter’s camp, and she’d have to tackle the Devil’s Highway, a broad expanse of broken asphalt that wrapped itself around the city like a fist and the quickest way to reach the camp from this direction. Also the most exposed. It was that or wind her way through the maze of backstreets with all their derelict hiding places. Tempting idea. Problem was, the aberrants loved those dark hidden places. Either way, she’d been careless in letting herself become distracted from the time.

“Stupid,” she muttered to herself as she neared the tunnel that ran under Devil’s Highway. 

From here she could climb the embankment and set out on the highway or she could punch through the tunnel underneath and follow the path as it wound its way farther into the dark maze of destroyed streets. 

A cool wind picked up, tickling the back of Mercy’s neck as she stood at the entrance to the dark tunnel. “This is bad.” 

A shaft of moonlight penetrated the mouth at the other end of the tunnel, stretching a long dull beam of silvery blue for meters before the darkness swallowed it. The night was their enemy. And the tunnel was about as dark a space as any would find. 

“Jesus,” Mercy whispered, invoking the god of the old ways. Or was he the son? She couldn’t remember. And neither did she care, because the dude obviously didn’t have any regard for his faithful, given the wars annihilated most of them.  

It seemed many people from the TB believed in this god, considering the amount of books cipher squad salvaged and catalogued on the topic. Hawk fancied all those stories, and had taken to reading them at night, tucked in his bunk, before lights out. She often fell asleep listening to him read his favorite aloud. 

Once while sitting on the roof of home base, watching the slash of violent reds and oranges fade into night, she worked out why Hawk was slowly becoming obsessed with the Bible’s stories, and why so many from the TB seemed to believe in them. They were all about forgiveness, hope and love. 

Don’t bother. That’s the one bit of advice she’d share with all those worshippers. Mercy lived in a world long after that religion flourished, and she could honestly say that if the big guy existed, he didn’t give a shit about his flock. Humans became a regular delicacy for the aberrants. They weren’t thriving. And as far as anyone in Jericho could tell, humans fared as poorly elsewhere around the country. 

Perhaps the worshipers of old got it all wrong: they weren’t the children of their god, as they assumed. That it was, in fact, the aberrants their god hoped to usher into eternal life. 

Mercy didn’t know and didn’t care. No savior arrived to rescue anyone during the downfall of humanity, because, honestly, humanity handled its demise. They’d created the aberrants after all.  She’d tell the faithful forgiveness was an allegory for hopelessness, and hope was a gasping breath. Love, well…. Mercy just shrugged. She didn’t want to go there. 

 She heaved a breath as she warred with her choice. Along Devil’s Highway or risk the gauntlet? She made her choice with her first step into the tunnel. It was night. Either way she was in deep shit. Might as well fast-track her way to squatter’s camp and reduce her time in the open. 

“Hawk’s gonna kill me.” She fisted her hands, then pulled her pistol from her belt. It didn’t make her feel any safer in her hand, but she couldn’t stop the instinct. 

Mercy picked up her pace, grimacing at the noises she made. Soon she was hurrying forward on tip-toes to muffle her sound, but the aberrants had more than super hearing to hunt their prey. 

“This is really, really dumb,” she whispered to herself as she neared the shaft of moonlight. But she’d made the distance of the tunnel and still nothing had appeared to silence her.

She hunched at the exit, sliding down the cold concrete tunnel wall and peered out onto the maze of the destroyed city. She knew the route off by heart, but between her and safety were many silent dangers she would not see until too late. Even remaining here, crouched at the tunnel’s mouth, she was garnishing herself as a tasty morsel. 

Mercy sucked in a breath and listened to the still night air. The aberrants were supreme hunters. She stood no chance of penetrating their stealth.  

“Just go,” she whispered once again.

Finally, the tightness in her stomach, the pounding of her heart, pumping a manic pulse through her veins, drove her out of hiding at a mad dash across the treed expanse between the tunnel and the first streets of Jericho.  

She gritted her teeth as if that would force the wild thoughts of being chased out of her head. 

Don’t look back. She’d trip if she did. Nor would she look up into the canopy of the trees for lurkers as she wove around their trunks. Her eyesight was shit anyway. So she sprinted with her eye on the first building, preying to a god that wasn’t hers to keep her hidden from lurking aberrants.

Her chest hurt, her lungs crying for air. Mercy was fit, but sprinting this distance was enough to squeeze the fittest’s lungs. And she was sprinting because her mind had warped the night into a culling ground of looming aberrants, spearing from every direction. 

That was until she went down. When her body jarred on the ground, her pistol flung from her hand. It all happened so fast, she was jacked with pain before she realized she was on the ground with the impact rattling up and down her spine. 

One breath and Mercy gathered herself up to sprint some more. But a single stride with her weight on her left ankle and she went down, eating her cries in case they attracted the wrong attention. Which was stupid. She didn’t need to cry to attract the wrong attention. Just breathing did that for her. 

“Fuck,” she hissed, then clamped a hand to her mouth on hearing the word out loud. 

She clasped her throbbing ankle and squeezed, while pressing her forehead into her knee as she tried to keep her growling groan as silent as she could. And this was how she would die: on a stupid errand for rhubarb and mint just so Hawk got his Christmas, which meant nothing to her.

Small stones embedded in Mercy’s palms as she crawled across the ground, searching for her pistol. She ignored the small sharp sparks like tiny cuts and also the lancing pain of her ankle and tried her best to hunt down her pistol, despite logic telling her it was a waste of time. 

“Forget it.” She grimaced at her voice. 

The pistol was a pseudo safety net given everything was a blur to her until it was too late. 

Finally Mercy abandoned searching and pushed to her feet. She’d covered most of the distance. Another couple of hundred meters and she’d be a smidge closer to safety. 

In front was the blurred murk of the looming city, rising above the treeline. Mercy kept her focus on that, shutting out every other possibility but reaching the outer limits of the high-rises. So, against all miracles, when she made it, she collapsed against the brick rubble and panted through the throbs, riding up her left leg like someone was pummeling her with a jackhammer. 

She inched down the wall to sit amongst the rubble, even though she wasn’t safe, for a moment succumbing to the pain. She had at least half a mile to go before she reached squatter’s camp, so she couldn’t waste time nursing her injury. 

Mercy rested her head back against the wall and looked up at the moon peeking over the jagged spear of the building’s remaining wall. Normally she loved the full moon. Tonight it was a reminder of her vulnerability. No place was hidden in that silvery glow. Elongated shadows like leering giants loomed all around her. She caught her breath to listen, but her pulse was too loud in her ears.

Time to get moving. 

A shadowy blur moved against the moonlight, seizing Mercy’s heart in a death grip, twisting her stomach into that ancient skill of origami, which Hawk had started practicing.  

She pressed herself against the brick wall, even though the wall offered her no protection.

Shit, shit, shit. 

There were two choices: hunker down amongst the rubble, or make a desperate break for squatter’s camp. Neither was ideal or sensible, nor would they save her ass. Besides, it could’ve been nothing. With her poor eyesight, she couldn’t be sure, and she’d only seen a fleeting glimpse. 

It was her raging heartbeat shooting spasms to her legs that got her moving. Mercifully, the pain in her ankle softened to a dull ache; she’d experienced fear enough times to praise its gift, but her pace was painfully slow. 

She near wet her knickers when she caught the shadow ripple across the rubble, thanks to the brilliant light of the full moon. The threatening sight drove her into a mad scramble, forgetting the jabbing pain as she forced weight onto her left foot. 

Instinctually, she sought the cover of the adjacent building, with its ground floor intact. She’d have a roof over her head at least, which was no defense, really. 

Before setting out, she’d covered herself in neuts—or neutralizers, a combination spray of chemicals scientists in the quantum assembly had devised to disguise a human’s scent. Unfortunately, Mercy was one of the unlucky few whose skin wouldn’t retain the positive effect of the neuts for long periods of time, and she’d been out for most of the day. If only she could find a car to hide in, which would help contain her scent, but apparently survivors had cleared those a long time ago. 

Mercy stumbled her way across the expanse of open air to the building adjacent, forcing herself to keep her focus on the ground and not the sky. Once she made the other side, she staggered deeper into the building, finding the going a little easier. The best she could do right now was to search out a small space to hunker into and hope against hope she’d imagined the shadows, and that any aberrants hunting tonight would not bother to dig deep inside this building. 

The roof and walls preserved the interior of the building, but survivors had picked the place clean of useable furniture. Mercy’s best plan was to hunt down the bathrooms and hide in a cubicle. 

But she didn’t go far when the acrid smell of smoke tickled the back of her nose, a telltale sign of life. Mercy froze in the corridor with a tingle feathering from her stomach to her toes. She glanced behind, then ahead. Its smell wafted in the air, seeming to have no definite direction. 

If she was smart, she’d back out and abandoned this building for another, or take the risk and run for squatter’s camp. That felt like running blind. She at least had to know the owner of the fire’s exact location before she could make a plan.

Mercy limped forward with carefully placed steps, sliding along the wall to the next room and inched her head around the door. The room was empty, but she could see through the crumbled wall to the room adjacent. And there she spied the flickering flames of a small fire in the middle of the room. 

Unlike the ones she’d already passed, furniture littered the far room. Squinting her eyes to see in the dim of the firelight, she could make out the filing cabinet on its side. Everything else fell to angular shapes her poor eyesight couldn’t define.

Mercy ducked behind the doorjamb, cursing her rotten luck for finding a building apparently occupied. If she was lucky, it could be someone from home base since she didn’t know the movements of all the departments. Storm squad was smart enough to move as a group. Those from scavenger division did sometimes get caught out at night during a lucrative hunt, but they moved in groups as well. 

Mercy was crossing the departments off her list for whose fire it could be when a firm grasp around her waist wretched her around, then pushed her into the wall. Her breath gushed out, cutting her shriek short. A large figure loomed over her in the darkness. So fast, large hands spun her around and poured at her backpack. 

Fear turned her to a statue. Mercy waited for a killing blow to split her in two at her spine. Instead, whoever it was rummaged through her backpack. The few items in her pack clattered to the floor like a percussion in the still night air.  

“You’re either foolish or insane,” came the deep male voice as he stopped destroying her backpack.  

Mercy pressed her head into the plaster and smelled dust, waiting for her life to end, but all she felt were his hands slid from her pack.  

“Turn around,” he demanded in a gruff voice. 

Mercy stayed where she was, panting at the wall and breathing in her own warm breath. 

He pulled her around to face him, but in the darkness of the corridor away from the firelight, she couldn’t make him out. 

“I smelled you from a distance. I thought you humans drowned yourselves in some chemical shit to mute your stench.”

An aberrant, dear fucking god. She was within spitting distance of an aberrant, something she’d never experienced, and her heart was beating so fast she felt sure it would jump right out of her mouth if she opened it.

“What are you, little human, foolish or insane? My guess is insane.”

Any minute Mercy would pee her pants. She couldn’t make out his face, but he towered over her like an impenetrable boulder. 

This is what the scientists of the TB created. They experimented with human genetics, taking the best aspects from selected animals and mixing those with human DNA, hoping to create a superior human. This was their success. 

The large aberrant leaned an arm against the wall beside her head, crowding into Mercy such that she was sucking thimble-sized pockets of air and feeling like she was about to pass out. 

She’d only ever seen aberrants from a distance, and thought they’d smell like the animals they were, but he didn’t smell like wet dog fur, or rotted garbage. His smell was… disturbingly human. She wouldn’t allow any thought of how, in fact, he smelled nice. Not all lathered up with sweet-scented soap like Hawk—which she also loved—but more raw and earthy. Like grit and mettle and hard work.  

“This is a very dangerous place you find yourself, little human. Night-time is no place for the weak.” His voice slithered over her, a snake with beautiful glimmering scales and a lethal bite. 

“Just do it,” she snapped, her throat feeling less than a millimeter thick. “If you’re going to do it, don’t muck around.”

If she had to die by an aberrant’s hand, she’d like it to end quick: a swift claw to her throat, a sudden injection of a lethal venom, a bite that drained her blood in seconds. She didn’t want to be an aberrant’s toy before his meal.

He leaned down, bringing his face close to hers. She was glad she couldn’t see him in the darkness, glad she would never see the one who delivered the fatal blow, or bite or whatever the hell this guy could do. She sucked a breath when she thought he’d kiss her only for him to move his head to her jawline. Then she heard him sniffing, sniffing her jawline up to her ear, then moving down to sniff her neck. She wouldn’t present that vulnerable, tender place to him. All the same, she wanted him to be quick. He wasn’t. He toyed with her, sniffing along her neck, down to the collar of her shirt.

“Just get it over with,” she snapped.

He inched his head away. 

“Now what would you be asking me to do, little human?”

She couldn’t say the words. They brimmed in her mouth yet failed to go further. Her heart beat erratically in her chest, her mouth dry like dust. 

“If you’re going to….” She pressed her lips together. “Kill me. Just do it.”

Like a slow-moving storm cloud, he gave her space. 

“You want me to?”

She shook her head, then thinking he couldn’t see her in the dark, she opened her mouth to answer. But of course, aberrants weren’t like humans. They had few vulnerabilities, only strengths, like excellent night vision, so Mercy left her reply at the head shake.

“If you were male, we wouldn’t be talking. Given you’re female, there might be room by my fire.”

“I don’t want to sit by your fire.”

“Isn’t that why you were snooping around the corner?”

“I needed to catch sight of my enemy before I decided what to do.”

“You’re pretty quick to label me your enemy.”

“You’re not human.”

“So that makes me your enemy?” He backed up, then turned and disappeared into the first room, heading toward his fire.

“You hunt us like animals. You kill indiscriminately. You—.” Before she knew what she was doing, she hobbled after him, drawn along by her argument. 

“Careful what you say, little human. You’ll soon be describing the actions of your own kind.”

Those that created aberrants never envisioned the resultant chaos from their experiments, like the violent uprising of humanity against the aberrants, the ensuring wars, the devastation and destruction and the almost total annihilation of humanity in favor of the scientists’ mutant creations. Because they really were superior to humans. 

She stopped halfway inside the room and watched him stroll through the destroyed wall and into the other room. Her eyesight was terrible, but not so bad his physique could escape her notice in the firelight.

Aberrants were like that: bigger, stronger, and, in every other physical attribute, better than humans. And this guy was no exception. He had to be getting close to seven feet tall and broad. A genuine walking boulder of a man with long dreadlocked hair swept back into a messy bun.  

Five hundred years later, and humanity held on to life because of their ability to organize themselves into communities and more or less work together, which was not always the case with the aberrants. A few select species kept that instinct, while most others were loners or formed limited groups. 

But by far humanity’s greatest benefit was their ability to breed.

Once the scientists realized what they’d done, they went about developing ways to eradicate the problem. Which was an impossible task given they’d been overly successful with what they’d created. 

Humanity couldn’t compete in a fight. Their weapons were more devastating on each other than they were on the aberrants, so the scientists tackled it their way by creating a chemical they released into the water that rendered female aberrants sterile. It wasn’t full proof. And there were some signs the females were becoming immune to the chemical, but it had drastically slowed their reproduction.  

For now, humans and aberrants played a delicate dance. Humans bred easily compared to their enemy. But aberrants successfully curbed the human population through predation. And worse, once the aberrants discovered it was possible, they stole human women for breeding. 

Mercy had found herself in a sticky situation. She was still breathing because she was likely worth something to him alive. Except she would rather die than be his breeder.

The big male eased himself down in front of the fire, legs stretched before him, and leaned against the filing cabinet. “There’s room for you by my fire.”

She stayed where she was halfway inside the first room, confused about how everything was unfolding. Storm squad shared a lot of stories about their encounters with the aberrants. They’re vicious, unforgiving and inhumane actions. The survivors’ history was also tainted with equally macabre stories. 

That he didn’t kill her or rape her or tie her up for when he was ready to drag her back to his lair muddled her to the point she didn’t know what to do next.  

“I already told you. I don’t want to share your fire.”

“Suit yourself if you’re so willing to play with your life. But it would be a shame to see such an attractive woman go to waste.”

Her pulse thrashed louder through her ears. She took a step backward. 

“I’ll not stop you from fleeing. But I’ll give you a friendly warning. Something lurks in the darkness just outside this building. Something you don’t want to meet.”

She spun to face the door as a shiver radiated through her body. It had to be the shadow she’d seen outside. 

“It followed you from the highway.” He kept his eyes on his fire. 

“You knew I was….” Jesus, aberrants were good. She never really understood just how superior they were as hunters, never having come this close to one.

“Feel free to try for your camp tonight, but I don’t like your chances. Even less with your injury.”

“How am I any safer here?”

Finally he looked over at her. “You’ll have to find out.”

Mercy remained like rock. There was no choice here, only death or bondage as a breeder. She was half tempted to risk the unknown in the darkness than move any closer to the big male. As relaxed as he looked right now, she knew the stories, the cruelty and barbarity aberrants delighted in inflicting. 

The movement was so sudden, Mercy could only draw half a breath. The male bounded up from beside the fire and flashed toward her with speed her mind couldn’t process. She didn’t even have time to shriek when he sped past her, followed by a chaotic jumble of noise. 

On passing, he nudged her with his elbow and sent her sideways. The force of his nudge sent her crashing to the floor where she slid across into the darker recesses of the vacant room and collided with the wall. Pain in her shoulder shot sparks of color in her vision. 

Obscured from the firelight by the crumbled wall, she slowly rolled but couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing. Her poor eye-sight didn’t help, and the speed at which the big male and whoever he fought, turned the scene before her into a blur of limbs. 

Mercy curled into a ball with the savagery in which they fought, as if she could make herself disappear. She cupped her hands over her ears to block out the horrible noise of the fight as the two aberrants became more their animalistic selves than human.

Suddenly they went through the wall and into the corridor with a loud crack of concrete, smothering the acrid smell of smoke with the dusty chalk smell of plaster. 

Mercy sat up with fear’s aid, which dampened the sharp shooting pain from her shoulder, and scrambled on all fours around the brick wall and into the second room. She dodged the fire and searched out the darker hiding places in the room, crawling around the strewn furniture in hope there were cupboards around here somewhere she could climb into and hide. The big male had said he’d caught her scent, so hiding in a cupboard would be no help, but she wasn’t about to sit still and wait for the victor to pick her off. 

There was more crashing and those horrible feral sounds that seemed magnified by the night. She couldn’t determine how far they’d moved, but it sounded like they were crashing through every wall on the ground floor.

Was this the shadowy shape that had hunted her? 

God, she was stupid, so very, very stupid for putting herself in this predicament. For twenty-three years she’d kept herself far enough away from the aberrants. So stupid. She cursed herself more once she gave up on finding a better place to hide, and crawled out of the room with the fire and into another corridor. 

She wasn’t thinking logically. Driven by adrenaline, she kept crawling. Her ankle throbbed so running wouldn’t get her anywhere, and the left side, from her shoulder to her hip, now pulsed to a similar beat. But her adrenaline wouldn’t let her stop. 

She was still scurrying on all fours when she dimly realized the silence. Bloody hell, the fight was over. The victor would come for her soon. 

Fear fed her extra strength. This time she would risk making a run for it, injured ankle be damned. She staggered to her feet and wavered where she stood when hands swept her up. Whoever it was cradled Mercy against their chest with her squeak following behind her. 

“Dangerous decision, little human.”

“You,” was all she could say as he headed back toward the room with the fire.

“It’s not safe for you to be away from me. That was just one for now. There’ll be others. You need to stay close if I’m to protect you.”

Once they reached the room with the fire, she saw the bloody mess of his shirt front and face, but fear kept her still in his arms. The night was unfolding into a nightmare and too surreal for her to think straight. 

“Did I hurt you?” he asked as he crouched and eased her down beside the fire. 

Mercy stared at him as he set her down, then collapsed beside her with a groan once he’d settled her gently on the ground. She understood his question, but not the reason for him asking. Surely he didn’t care? The thought seemed impossible. But he’d lowered her ever so slowly in front of the fire, a sign of compassion any human would show. 

The front of him was a bloodbath of injuries, his breathing labored. 

“What happened to the other aberrant?”

The big male shrugged. 

“Did you kill…?” She was about to say it, but suddenly referring to aberrants as inanimate objects—something humans regularly did—seemed demeaning given his apparent compassion toward her, and his confession of protection.

“No. But don’t worry. He won’t be back. Not tonight. Did I hurt you?”

She blinked. “Umm…. No.” Her shoulder was killing her, but for some reason she didn’t want him to feel bad about it, considering he’d possibly saved her life. 

Her eyes followed his hands as he stripped his shredded shirt. His chest was a gouged mess. Terrible slash marks peeled his skin open, from which oozed so much blood she feared he’d pass out. As horrified as she was about that, her eyes snagged on his impressive chest. Jesus, she’d never seen a guy so well put together. That was something they conveniently forgot to mention when they spoke about aberrants. 

Really, Mercy? “Are you going to be all right?” 

It surprised her to feel genuine concern. 

“It’s nothing I’ve not healed from before.”

Rapid healing was one more super ability scientists ensured to add into the mix of super abilities for their pets. 

“You, on the other hand, are lying.”

He shuffled to face her. Before she could jerk away, he placed his hands on her hips and gently squeezed.

“What are you doing?” She went to shuffle away.

“Don’t. Let me check you over.”

She stilled as his hands wondered up the side of her body with a gentle caress. 

“I know I injured you when I threw you aside.”

Unable to stand his hands on her, she said. “It’s my shoulder.”

His hands left her ribcage—whether by design or accident, he’d kept his fingers from touching the outer curve of her breasts, surprising, but she was grateful for—and moved over her shoulder. 

“Nothing’s broken.”

“We weren’t told of your x-ray vision or medic hands.” She felt guilty for the sarcasm, given he seemed genuinely concerned for her wellbeing, but she couldn’t shake the fear from her voice or thoughts.

He snorted a laugh. “That’s because they’re too busy telling you of our brutality.”

She opened her mouth to say something smart, then snapped it shut. He’d been a feral, violent force just moments ago against the other aberrant. “You can’t expect us to believe anything else. I mean… what you just did, and what aberrants do every day.”

Because he’d likely saved her life, and weirdly, he seemed to care, the sarcasm dried in her mouth.

“They must’ve really fucked with history.” He grimaced as he eased back to rest against the filing cabinet once again. 

She grimaced just watching him. “What do you mean?”

“We started nothing. Humans created us. Then they tried to destroy us. Would you roll over when attacked? Or would you fight for your survival?”

She really couldn’t answer that. “But you’re the ones killing us now.”

“Because humans do the same to us. Why should we hand ourselves over for extermination.” He spoke in a conversational tone like he was talking about the weather. 

“Once upon a time, the first of us opened his eyes to find he was something different from everyone else by design. They hailed him a miracle. Soon others followed because his creators were so in love with their creation.”

“I already know all this.”

“From your point of view, yes.”

His argument would be biased. She’d say so, but he could say the same of her stories.  

“They became adventurous and tried new experiments, new designs and wild combinations. Then they became greedy in their creations, always chasing a better design. They kept adding to the list of abilities they hoped to achieve, always hunting for the ultimate perfect enhanced human being.”

Listening to him absorbed her as much as watching him. His face was an ugly mess of gaping wounds and bloody skin, looking just like any human would after a vicious fight. 

“As time went on, these enhanced humans no longer wanted to be test subjects or experiments. Neither did they want to be forced into contracts to perform tasks they did not choose to do. Their creators argued it was what they were designed to do. But the enhanced humans just wanted to live like all the other humans.”

She liked his deep, gravelly voice that seemed to come from low in his chest. Despite herself, the steady rhythm of his speech dragged her into his lyrical hypnotic tale. Maybe it was the dancing flames flicking in his dark eyes that added to her mood. 

“They were tagged, monitored, told where to live and how to live and who they could marry under some forced breeding program. Their children were placed in special schools to ensure they were suitably indoctrinated into their position in life.”

She liked his lips most of all. They were full, softening his harsh features. There appeared nothing gentle about him. He’d acted with such speed and brutality moments ago, but right now, despite him looking like he’d fought Armageddon as a sole stunt, he looked serenely content.

“A growing ripple of resistance grew. They jailed the first enhanced humans who refused to sign contracts forcing them into servitude for life in a special facility capable of holding them. Then, as more resisted, they executed them. It was a warning to anyone else who dared revolt, as well as a convenient way of eradicating the problem.”

Weirdly, she also liked his stubble because she normally hated facial hair on a man. 

“It was around that time enhanced humans became known as aberrants. They dropped the word human to make it easier to accept the rhetoric for war against the supposed evil threatening humanity.”

In fact, this aberr—she couldn’t use the word after hearing his side of the story—man, looked little like the men she was usually attractive to. He was huge, bulky with angular features, big hands and bearded face. There was a tattoo covering his neck, but because of her poor eyesight, she couldn’t make out what it was. He wore a large silver earring in his right ear and what looked like metal on the front of his tongue, which glinted occasionally while he spoke.

He’d stared into the fire during his story, and when he looked at her, she flushed because she’d not concentrated on what he said. Mercy heard every word, the whole tragic story, yet she couldn’t stop herself from concentrating more on the aberr—man, telling the story. 

Despite everything, she no longer felt afraid. Maybe it was the release of all the fear she’d felt crawling up the corridor to escape, him turning up to rescue her and the gentle way he’d sat her down in front of the fire and worried over whether he’d hurt her when he pushed her aside to protect her. 

“And you know how the story ends.”

This wasn’t her. Mercy didn’t leer at men. There were roughly three hundred humans occupying home base full time. A web of other sites in the surrounding region expanded the surviving population at intervals, but Mercy rarely mixed with anyone beyond her section in home base. And the men were nothing great. 

Hawk was her best friend, so any romantic hook up with him was out of the question. The guys from storm squad were interesting, to say the least. Over the years she’d worked in cipher squad, she’d hooked up with a handful of them. The sex was good. But strip the hot bodies away, they were jerks. There weren’t too many others that attracted her. Mercy had learned to forget about her libido in favor of focusing on surviving this life. 

“What’s your name?” She asked to cover the embarrassment of where her thoughts were going. 

He quirked an eyebrow, then smiled. His face remained as angular and hard as rock, but his smile touched a part of her that mostly lay dormant: the part that sparked curiosity.

“Erock.”    

“Galea.”

He held out his hand as he leaned over. “Welcome to my fire, Galea.”

Her hand disappeared inside his handshake. When she realized she was staring at him, her eyes mapping all his hard features and the darkest eyes she’d ever seen, and the way her hand fit snuggly engulfed in his, she glanced away to the fire while tugging her hand back.

“Thank you.”

She should say something about his story. He was right. Human history had colored the version she knew, favoring the humans and turning the aberr—his kind—into violent, vicious beasts whose minds were barely distinguishable from the animals their genes carried.   

Never had she considered their side of the story. And it seemed no one ever did. Probably because they’d then have to face what they’d done. 

Erock was not what she expected from an aberr—. A man that wasn’t hum—. He was not what she expected from an enhanced human. She sure as hell never expected an intelligent conversation from one of them. That’s how naïve she was. 

“Not just for the fire.” She looked over her shoulder to the place the two aberr—enhanced humans—had gone through the wall into the corridor during their fight. “For saving my life.”

There was that smile again that sent a soft, fleeting warmth across her chest. 

“I’m a sucker for a pretty face.”

She ducked her head as a sudden chill swept down over her shoulders. Was he eyeing her off as a breeder? 

“You better get closer to the fire. It feels like a sudden cold has moved in.” He slanted a sideways glance in her direction.

Her heart picked up its beat. And what would come next? He’d insist she sit on his lap to stay warm. Where would it go from there? 

He resettled himself against the filing cabinet. “I know what the cold’s about. You needn’t worry. I don’t get involved in any of that.”

Oh god, he understood all right. 

“There’s a lot of rumors. I’ve known women who’ve gone missing,” she said as a way of explanation.

He nodded. “Why do you think the other dude came calling?”

She flushed, but she doubted he would notice it in the firelight. 

“He smelt you. You’re coming into season. That’s what made him risk the attack.”

“What?” It felt like she’d buried her face in the fire. Of course, she’d heard such things before. She knew about some aberr—enhanced humans having amazingly keen smell, but this was humiliating. 

“You’ll be ovulating soon.”

“Okay,” she snapped. 

“We’re human. But we’re also animals underneath all this skin. And now we’re cut off from breeding with our own kind.”

“Can we not talk about this?”

He chuckled. “Right now, you’re giving off an obscene dose of pheromones, but you’re safe with me.”

“Jesus. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.”

“I’m not into rape.”

“Thank you, but I’m so uncomfortable right now. Can we maybe get onto another topic?”

“Sure. But, listen, there may be other males.”

“What?”

“Night stalkers mostly. But there could be others. I need to rest for a bit, recuperate, then we’ll have to go. It will take me at least twenty-four hours before I’m back to full strength. I’ve only got so many fights left in me before another male is likely to win.”

“Oh my god.” Mercy palmed her mouth.

“Yeah, you really chose the wrong time of the month to be wondering around at night.” 

“Where will we go?”

“I’ll get you to one of your safe houses.”

His confession left her speechless. “You’d do that for me?”

“Don’t sound so shocked.”

“But it’s—” Mercy wondered if even one person from storm squad would go to such trouble and risk their life to help her. They were a hardened bunch who worked within strict guidelines and followed their own protocols. They operated on the mantra that if you couldn’t keep up, you got left behind. 

“I’m….” She shook her head. “Thanks is too pathetic for me to say. I’m really grateful.”

“It’s only fair. I’m responsible for some of your injuries. Besides, you’d struggle to make it to safety on a good day. You can’t even walk properly.” 

“I don’t understand why you’re being so considerate.”

“Because I’m an aberrant?”

“Because we’re on different sides.”

“Are you not on my side, Galea?” The cheeky lilt in his voice sent a wonderful tingle into her belly.  He was playing with her. She never thought aberr—enhanced humans would have a sense of fun.

Her gaze slid to his chest. The ugly slash marks couldn’t hide his taunt abdomen, or the perfect size of his pecs. She knew what it was like to run her tongue across a guy’s chest and savor the feel of licking the outline of his muscles. 

The state he was in, and her eyes were eating up his bare skin. What the hell had gotten in to her? She’d blame it on delirium.

“Given where your eyes have been these last seconds and the expression on your face, I’d say you’re warming to me.”

Mercy blinked herself back from her delicious fantasy to realize her gaze was still caressing his bare chest.

“Umm…. What? Ah…. No.”

“No, as in you’re not warming to me?”

“Oh, no. Yes. I mean yes. No.” She rubbed her temple. “Sorry. I’m not scared of you. Not now. I believe you. I don’t know why, but I do. I trust you’ll help me get to squatter’s camp. And I trust you mean me no harm.”

Why was it so easy to get locked in his gaze when he wore that cheeky, yet warming smile?

“I’m not against you.” She sobered. Finally, she had her head straight and no longer thinking about his perfect abs. “It’s difficult. I mean…. You were brought up with your stories, and I was brought up with mine. It’s all I’ve known. And I’ve never spoken to an aberr—enhanced human before.”

He chuckled. “Enhanced human now. That’s better than aberrant.”

“What do you want me to call you?”

“Erock. But enhanced human isn’t degrading. At least it’s got the word human in it.”

“I’ve never met someone like you before.”

“I get it.” He arched his head back, stretching the front of his neck. 

Her eyes locked on to his Adam’s apple, then trailed down to his chest again and there her gaze stayed while her mind dallied on some shocking, delightful thoughts. 

“And you should keep your distance. Not all of us know how to behave, like our friendly night stalker, whose licking his wounds right now.”

He lowered his head, and she was too slow in moving her gaze from his delicious chest. 

“Someone like you, Mercy, really should stay away. Stay safe with your people.”

“What do you mean someone like me?”

She wore nothing sexy. Mercy had long given up caring about how she looked and opted for comfort and practicality. Even so, her pulse jacked the lower his eyes grazed down her body. 

“Let’s just say you’re the perfect prize.”

She fought with her smile while trying to dismiss the wonderful spasm of tingles in her belly.

His eyes lingered on her, and her mind blanked out. Her gaze dipped to his lips.

“We should go.” 

The interruption of his voice was like a bucket of iced water dousing the sudden heat in her body. 

“Every moment we stay is a moment we risk your safety. Another male will be sure to turn up soon.”

Mercy felt an irrational spark of annoyance at what he said. Leaving meant their time together was ending. Suddenly she had too many questions she wanted to ask, too much about him she wanted to know. 

“What sort of human are you?” It was out before she could stop herself.

He slanted her a sideways glance and winked. That one little facial tick exploded a fountain of fireworks in her groin.

“The worst kind.”

She hitched her breath as she watched him reach across the space between them. Her eyes fixed on the top of his fingers, as his nails extended into the longest, sharpest, deadliest claws she’d ever seen. The grizzly wet sound of skin splitting and bones elongating threaded through the silent night, but she was too fascinated to feel nauseous. He drew a sharp clawed finger down her cheek before cupping her chin between his forefinger and thumb.

 “But I’ll always act the pussycat for you.”

They stayed like that, and all Mercy’s rationality fell in tatters to the ground. If he kissed her, she let him. She was yet to breathe. And he’d yet to kiss her.

Please. Kiss me.

Instead he released his hold on her. “Let’s get you home.”

In one swift, agile move he was on his feet, which was amazing considering how messed up he still looked. 

Mercy took his offered hand, and he gently pulled her to her feet, then swept her up into his arms. 

To her gasp, he replied. “You didn’t think I’d let you walk on your injured ankle.”

That’s right. She was injured. Being with him had completely robbed that memory from her mind. Plus the fact her shoulder ached. But cradled in his arms, none of that mattered because right now she felt cocooned in safety.

What would it be like…. No. She really shouldn’t think those thoughts. 

“Erock.” Mercy grew bold enough to wrap her arms around his shoulder. 

“Yes.”

“Thank you. Really. I…. This is not what I thought a….”

“Aberrant would do for a human?”

“Aberrant? What does that word mean? It’s not in my vocabulary.”

He chuckled, and she lost the war on her smile. “You know it’s Christmas Eve?”

“Huh…. Really? What does that mean?”

“It means a new beginning. It means a chance for forgiveness and hope and….” Love. But she couldn’t bring herself to say that out loud.

 “Then it’s the perfect night.”

Erock left the fire behind and marched off through the building like he wasn’t severely injured carrying a fully grown woman in his arms.

Should she ask? She wanted to ask, but what would it mean? Where would it lead? What were the consequences of asking? It could be terrible and end in disaster. 

Don’t. She had to leave everything the way it was. She had to. 

“Do you think we’ll ever…. You know? Meet again.”

He stopped and looked at her, but they were away from the firelight now and his face was nothing but dark shadows. 

“If that’s what you want, yes.”

He answered with such firm assurance her stomach flipped. 

“I’d like that.”

“I have your scent, Mercy. Wherever you go, I’ll find you. If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.” Her words echoed in her ears through the silence of the night, and her heart pounded a wild and feral beat that flipped a switch in her body to on.

“I love Christmas Eve.” She bit her lip unable to stop the smile from hurting her cheeks.

Erock resumed walking. “It’s now my favorite time of year.”