The Last Marine Page 2

  The threat of repeated strangulation extinguished the last spark of her resistance. That, almost more than what was about to transpire, brought fresh tears to her eyes. She’d been raped once before. This just happened to be a different body doing the deed. What pained her was her inability to protect herself. She was weak. Pathetic. Why couldn’t she be stronger? Fight harder? Get angrier? Instead, a paralyzing numbness washed over her. It slowed her heart, suspending her emotions. She went blank, as if her spirit disconnected from her body and became a dispassionate observer.

  “Don’t make me ask again.”

  Prudence wrenched open his fly, pushing his slacks down over his narrow hips and under her gaze, his half-erect cock deflated, testament to how unappealing he found her. Alfred had only forced her once. He’d left her alone after that, barely able to stand looking at her.

  Leading her by the throat, Randolph forced her onto the bed. “Spread those bony knees.”

  She complied. She didn’t struggle as he mashed his flaccid dick against her most private place. She didn’t fight his hand tightening at her throat. She turned her gaze to the holo-projector and focused her blurry vision on the silent man facing trial, distancing herself from what happened to her body. She wondered, if maybe, if somehow Chief Payne might have shut down, too. Just like her.

  They faced different demons hundreds of miles apart.

  But tonight, they’d be silent and stoic together.

  Her and her almost-hero.

  Chapter 2

  As soon as the door slammed shut, Prudence allowed herself to cry, keeping her face from the pillows so her lavender tears didn’t stain the white pillow cases. She couldn’t even say why the full-body sobs shook her so hard this time. In the end, Randolph couldn’t get it up. And by the time he returned to try again, she’d be long gone.

  She didn’t understand Earthers. From what her mother told her, men never treated women in such a way on Lythos. Maybe because they knew they would never get their mate’s gift until they won over their woman’s heart. Or maybe they were better men. They would never use a woman this way.

  Mating was sacred on her home planet. Celebrations were given upon the exchange of a gift—and it was an exchange, the male would receive a gift he needed to better support him and his mate and the woman would get the gift of a new life—a baby. Deep down, despite everything, even she still harbored some hope. Women with lavender eyes always bore daughters and she’d love to have a daughter.

  Forcing herself to rise, she went to the window and stared down to the drive far below. Randolph would leave soon. The first faint hues of dawn poked through the skyscrapers, lighting the thick, green lawns and vegetable gardens growing on platforms outside the windows of each floor. Most days, she found the sight beautiful and inspiring. The tall buildings were vertical greenhouses for all intents and purposes, layered with various shades of emerald and jade and dotted with a rainbow of flowers.

  Today, the street far below held her interest. The main entrance to the Parnell compound stuck out several hundred feet, allowing her to see the front entry. A limo pulled up, hovering over the drive.

  Prudence palmed away the wetness blurring her vision and rubbed her puffy eyes. She waited, pressing her face to the glass. Randolph appeared ant-sized when he emerged from the building, but she was sure that was him. Thomas, the driver, wouldn’t dare open the back door of the limo for anyone else.

  Randolph would be on his private transport to D.C. within the hour.

  This was it. This was her chance.

  A sudden onset of tremors shook her from head to toe so hard even her teeth chattered. Fresh tears welled in her eyes. There was so much she had to do. She couldn’t forget any of the items she’d planned to take—there would be no general store on Asteria—and she couldn’t take anywhere near the amount of gear she wished she could. If she walked out of here with more than one bag, security would become suspicious.

  The enormity of what she was about to do hit her full force.

  This was why she cried.

  Why she shook.

  What she’d endured at the hands of the Parnells and society as a whole was a known quantity. The adventure she’d chosen to embark on was not. Security could get suspicious and alert Randolph. The Blue Helmets at the spaceport might recognize her. The ship could crash. She might die at the hands of Scarecrows moments after disembarking on Asteria.

  Or she might succeed.

  Truth be told, she couldn’t decide what she feared most. What would success look like? Would success be living alone in a small cabin in hostile territory? Would she find a community? Friends? Would she grow old never knowing love or holding her daughter?

  The one thing she did know: She’d never find out if she didn’t get moving.

  Prudence took a cleansing breath and wiped her eyes. She crossed the room with purposeful strides and flung aside her closet door. She had stacked the shopping bags holding her supplies in the base of the closet last week. She didn’t reach for them, she stood there staring at the symbols of her freedom, paralyzed.

  Don’t touch them yet. Don’t tarnish them with the smell of Randolph still on your skin.

  She had to hurry. Barry was on shift right now, and he had a soft spot for her. He wouldn’t scrutinize her too much, not like the other guards. She flipped on the shower, jumping in before the water had a chance to warm and scrubbed herself. Five minutes later, the water was blazing hot, the bathroom smelled of eucalyptus and her skin was red, but clean. Every time her hands stroked over her neck, pain radiated down her back and across her collarbone. Her movement wasn’t hindered, nothing was broken, but she wasn’t surprised when she stepped out of the shower, wiped her hand over the mirror, and caught sight of the black stains around her throat.

  Dripping all over the floor, she returned to the closet, and started shoving her supplies into the brand new duffle bag. Barry wouldn’t question the bag—she’d been taking goods to the Sisters of Charity for the war orphans once a month for the last six months. She left out a box of black dye and a pair of scissors and rammed them into her purse before dressing and shouldering her pack.

  Calm down, Pru. They’re going to take one look at you and know something’s wrong.

  Her throat! She returned to her closet and grabbed a hat and scarf from the rack and donned them.

  Downstairs, she exited the elevator and walked toward the front entrance, clutching her bags.

  Barry smiled when he saw her. The burly black man always had a smile for her. She had no idea why he worked for the Parnells—he was far too kind—but he’d always been here. “Mrs. Parnell. Off to do your good works?”

  She had to crane her neck back to look him in the eyes which made her wince. “Yes. The Sisters are expecting me today. How’s your wife, Barry?”

  Barry’s expression grew concerned.

  Prudence’s breath caught. Had she given herself away?

  “Alda’s doing real well. Thank you for asking.” His lips thinned. He took the bag with her gear and began walking toward the front doors.

  Her whole body grew tense, wanting nothing more than to snatch the bag back. Her future was in there. Instead, she forced herself to stay calm and walk by his side. “And Jast?”

  “Oh, well, now, he’s doing okay. Been a little rebellious lately, and Alda’s real worried.” He shrugged. “Me, I think it’s the age.”

  The other guards watched their every move, their heads turning to watch their progress. “He’ll be all right. He’s always been very respectful to me.”

  He held open the lobby door. “Here you go, Mrs. Parnell.”

  She stared at the limo and for one heart-stopping moment, she thought it was Randolph’s.

  Barry winked. “I saw the elevator coming down, so I called the car up.”

  “Thank you.”

  He handed off her bag to the driver, who held the door open for her.

  “You’ll be back in time for lunch?”

  Halfwa
y into the limo, she paused. “Actually, I . . . I thought I might join the Sisters for lunch today. They always ask, and I never seem to have the time.”

  He nodded, holding her gaze. “All right, then. I’ll let the cook know.”

  “Goodbye, Barry.”

  He waited until the driver stepped away and leaned down to look her dead in the eye. “You be real careful now, you hear? Be quick, be quiet, and be invisible.”

  The breath stalled in her lungs. Her heart slammed against her ribs. He knew.

  Again, the large man winked. “I got your back, like you’ve always had mine.”

  She managed a shaky nod, and a whispered, “Thank you.”

  Barry closed the door and when the car pulled away from the curb, she turned to stare out the back window. She’d never thought of Barry as an ally before. Nice, yes, but not a friend. Not someone who’d risk Randolph’s wrath for her. She lifted her hand in a small wave.

  He didn’t raise his hand in return, but he gave her a tiny nod of acknowledgment.

  The rest of the trip was uneventful. The Sisters allowed her into their sanctuary and loaned her the use of a room to dye her hair and change her clothes. She cut off most of her waist-length, honey-brown locks, leaving her now black hair just below her chin. The Sisters helped her create an ID with her new look and one of the nuns gave her a ride to the New York spaceport.

  “I’ll pray for you, child,” Sister Agnes said from the driver’s seat. “This is poor timing in my opinion. You’d be better off waiting until next week when they launch the new Apollo.”

  Tonight would be Genesis V's last flight. Apollo, named after the first space shuttle, would begin service next week. They said Apollo would be able to make the flight in less than half the time Genesis V did. “Next week I may not have the ability to leave.” Next week she’d be getting married if she stayed.

  “I know.” Sister Agnes shook her head. “That’s why I’m driving you today, but you be careful. And remember to purchase the cheapest seat on the flight.”

  Prudence smiled. “No problem there, Sister. I don’t have much money of my own.”

  She stared out the window for the rest of the ride, as if seeing the city for the first time. Heat billowed from beneath the hover-cars racing down the roadway alongside them. Even early in the morning, the city bustled as society members dressed in bright colors crowded the clean streets winding in and out of the garden-tiered skyscrapers. Maintenance drones patrolled the walk-ways, making repairs, grooming the foliage and sweeping away the autumn leaves. New York was beautiful. Spotless. Crime-free. Poverty-free. Illness-free. All the people walking the street had someplace to be, a job, a home, and a specific place on the tiers of the new U.N. society. No one limped, no one needed canine assistance, and no one wore holey, dirty clothes. There were no street performers, panhandlers, or police, just brightly dressed society members hurrying to do their part for Utopia.

  Sister Agnes pulled up to the loading dock. “We’re here.”

  Prudence jerked her head in the other direction. New York spaceport was massive, over three times the size of the historic JFK International Airport. Two-story glass buildings surrounded three sprawling launch pads. Yellow-and-white lines dotted the tarmac and spaceport employees roamed the area in hover-carts and on foot. Only one ship was docked—Genesis V. It wouldn’t leave port until midnight. But, with a little luck, she’d be able to board now, and Randolph wouldn’t think to look for her here until she was long gone.

  She scooted to the opposite side of the car and leaned forward long enough to kiss the Sister’s cheek. “Thank you for the ride.”

  “Go with God, child.”

  Chapter 3

  She shouldered her bag, slipped out of the car, and stared up at Genesis V. The ship was old and wore the battle scars of a decade’s worth of space flights. The ship stood almost fifty stories tall, yet only one floor of the craft was designated for passengers with purchased tickets. The rest of the ship would be filled to bursting with exiled humans.

  Prudence wound her way through the crowd and purchased her ticket. She didn’t have enough for a private cabin, nor even for a semi-private cabin. The bulkhead was full and for long, heart-pounding moments, she didn’t think anything she could afford was available. Her hands started to sweat and she wiped her palms on her jeans.

  The cashier turned back to her after checking the flight log. “I’ve got one pod left down in the barracks. You’ll have one roommate from what I hear, but no one else wanted the pod.”

  “Why?”

  He snorted, dragging his hand down his chubby face. “Can’t say why. I need to sell the ticket, lady.”

  “Can you tell me if it’s safe?”

  “The pod is in perfect working order. Now, do you want it or not?”

  She wet her lips. What was she doing? She couldn’t afford to be picky. “I’ll take it.”

  After she had her ticket grasped in her hand, she used the last of her money to purchase lunch and spent the afternoon sitting on the floor in the terminal, people-watching. Every time someone raised their voice, she jumped, thinking she’d been found out. But when 11:30 PM rolled around, they allowed paying passengers to board the ship. She went straight to her quarters, which turned out to be a room used to transport prisoners, and let herself in.

  The whole room was white and stainless steel. Two pods were in the room and one sat in an upright position. There were no windows and only the one door.

  She approached the horizontal pod. The life-links lay in a neat bundle to one side and she sent up a silent prayer of thanks to the Sisters of Charity for helping her research how they all worked. Down here in the barracks, there would be no stewardess to help her hook up.

  The door opened so hard it hit the wall and bounced back, startling her. She stared wide-eyed as a man stumbled through, Blue Helmets on either side. He was bound at the hands and feet with shackles connected by a short chain, which severely restricted his mobility. Once inside, he stopped and glanced up.

  Griffin Jude Payne.

  She should have known. His sentencing had been this morning and Randolph wouldn’t have wanted him hanging around until the Apollo flight next week.

  They must have permitted him a shower; droplets of water clung to his clipped, blond hair. And he didn’t wear prison garb. They’d supplied him camouflage cargo pants and a pea-green tee. It wouldn’t do for the general public to realize the U.N. shipped convicted felons to the same planet as the sick and the poor.

  His eyes met hers and lit with recognition. Neither her short hair, nor the hurried black dye job appeared to have fooled him. She froze, waiting to find out if he would give her away.

  The corners of his mouth went down, but he remained silent.

  The two Blue Helmets muscled him over to the upright hibernation chamber. They didn’t need to use the kind of force they did. He didn’t struggle.

  Until they tried to enclose him inside.

  Chief Payne threw his shoulder against the door and head-butted one of the Blue Helmets. The man slumped to the ground.

  The other soldier punched Chief Payne in the face. He reeled back with a grunt and the Blue Helmet slammed and sealed the door.

  Prudence’s hand flew to her throat. “You’re leaving him in here? With me?”

  “If you wanted a private cabin, you should have paid for one.” Out of breath, the Blue Helmet glanced at Prudence. The heat left his tone. “He can’t bother you, miss, he can’t reach the release with his hands cuffed. Not while he’s vertical.”

  She gave him a shaky nod and as soon as he dragged his partner out, she locked the door behind them. Goddess help her if they brought her any more roommates.

  She kept her gaze on the now occupied hibernation chamber as she edged toward hers. He should already be falling asleep, but he wasn’t. His intense sea-green stare followed her across the sterile silver-and-white room. Did they expect her to undress with him watching?

  She turned her
back to Chief Payne and removed her hat, scarf, and jacket, taking her time folding them. With a glance over her shoulder, she noted he was still awake. His patrician features were schooled into the stoic mask she’d grown to know so well through the holo-projector. She took off her shoes and socks, storing them in the compartment under her chamber. Waiting was risky. If she wasn’t locked into her chamber when they dropped life support, she could go under before securing all her life links.

  A thud came from behind her and she spun around, her hand flying to her heart.

  He hadn’t gotten free.

  His forehead was planted on the glass. His lips moved, forming one word: Please.

  Please what?

  His gaze dropped as he stared at something in the chamber, before shooting back to hers. He repeated the action, trying to communicate with her. His expression searching, intense.

  She approached his chamber, getting close enough to peer down into the pod. His life support links hung loose at his side. No wonder he’d fought the Blue Helmets. They’d planned to let him die in there.

  His head hit the glass, drawing her attention. Again, he mouthed one word. Please.

  Her heart slammed in her chest. He wanted her to open the chamber. What if he attacked her like he did the Blue Helmet? Despite being cuffed he’d proved to be dangerous. She’d witnessed him kill with no remorse. And the fact that he refused to speak at his trial didn’t exactly endorse his sanity.

  But could she live with herself knowing she’d let him die?

  She looked up into his sea-green eyes. “Don’t hurt me.”

  A small smile curved the corner of his lips, softening his features. He shook his head.

  She reached out and pulled down the emergency release on the side of the chamber. The air hissed as the air-lock opened. His lips parted and he sucked in a hard breath.

  “You couldn’t breathe?” She stared at him in horror.

  He shook his head.

  The Blue Helmets hadn’t hooked him up to the life links or activated life support. That must have been three or four minutes. If she’d hesitated any longer . . . . “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” She should have. She’d studied these chambers and how they worked in preparation for this trip. A mask delivered oxygen to the occupant of the air-tight chamber.