Tameka wiped the sweat off her forehead using the back of her sweaty arm. Not much better. She lifted the cargo crate with ease but groaned anyway. It seemed appropriate given the August heat as she failed to recall the last time she drank anything. “How many more?”

“Fifteen bombs and four guns,” Lynn answered.

Both women carried loads of supplies to the convoy truck. Lynn’s black hair twisted out to her chin. Her tawny muscles strained with the loads Tameka barely noticed after receiving a nacre. Lynn packed more curves than any other girl here, but the guys stayed professional with them as they went to work in swimsuits and shorts. She liked that about the men Xelan hired.

There Tameka went again. The pang in her chest stung less in the wake of her recent good news, but it still stung. She frowned with that in mind. Tumu asked her to keep the pregnancy a secret until after the war ended or until she showed. He worried Nox and Korac might want the baby. Fire lit inside her veins. No one would take her son from her.

“Did you say something?”

Tameka snapped out of her thoughts and unclenched her fists. “It was nothing.” She checked and her nails bit into the skin of her palms. She decided to wait a few minutes to let the nacre heal them before picking up another crate.

Lynn’s pique physique set her apart from the rest. She wasn’t a Progeny, she wasn’t a soldier, but her history was no less interesting. “Does Pablo know why you had all that survival training growing up?”

Lynn cursed as she dropped a heavy duty flashlight on her sneaker. “Not exactly.” She picked it up and continued on a sigh, “It’s sorta hard to explain that I grew up with two paranoid schizophrenic parents with a doomsday obsession.”

“Sorry to bring it up.”

“No, you’re right. I should tell him. You know this whole apocalypse thing got me thinking about them a lot.” She stared at the ground as if she were choosing her next words, carefully. “I think they used to be CoN members.”

Tameka’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“Well, some of the stuff they said—the stuff the doctors used to diagnose them with—reminds me of the crap we hear from the compounds. I think they were ex-members and this was the apocalypse they were preparing for.”

“My god, have you talked to Lucas or Caedes about this?”

She shook her head. “There’s no point. My parents are dead, and I can never confront them about it. I think that’s okay though.” Her voice grew soft. “I want to remember them as they were.”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Tameka strode over the forest floor and squeezed the other girl’s shoulder. “I can’t say I understand. This is a bizarre revelation to reconcile about your parents, but I think if I learned something similar about mine, I’d do the same.” As Lynn nodded, Tameka decided to change the subject, “But that’s good news, in a way, for you and Pablo.”

“How’s that?”

“Your beautiful children won’t have to worry about a hereditary mental disorder.”

Lynn gawked as Tameka picked up a crate. “You two haven’t had any alone time together with all this shit.” As she toted it past the other woman, she looked into her soft brown eyes. “Make time before there isn’t any.”

A wave of dizziness crashed into Tameka, and the crate slipped out of her hands. Bombs poured onto the dry leaves.

Lynn’s hand brushed down her back. “Are you okay?”

“I think I need something to drink.”

“I’ll be right back with some snacks, too.”

Tameka climbed onto the tailgate of the truck and waited with her head rested on her folded knees. The forest smelled rich and wild. The leaves rustled in the pitiful excuse for a breeze, soothing her.

The gravel in Caedes’ voice startled her, “Need some help?”

She exhaled in relief. “Taking a break, but if you want, that crate right there needs loading.”

“I got it.” He lifted it without a strain in his considerable muscles as seen through his form fitted gray t-shirt. His shaved head reflected the minuscule rays of the shielded sun where it shone through the trees. Without hair, the features of his face came across as harsh, but she liked his smile. Too bad he hardly used it.

On the way out of the truck, he peered into her face with observant dark green eyes. “When’s the last time you fed?”

“I’m not hungry.” Her grief overruled her appetite.

He hopped out of the truck and wiped his hands on the back of his jeans. “I don’t mean food, Tameka.”

She blushed and looked away. “I… uhm… I haven’t.”

He recoiled. “That might be why you’re not feeling well. Icari must feed at least once a week. I’m not sure about Progeny, but it can’t be that different.”

Why wasn’t he like this with anyone else? He could be so kind and compassionate with her. She looked away. The others believed he liked her. Like-like. A sad thought occurred to her. Surely he didn’t think that because Xelan was gone—

No. She winced at the squeezing in her chest. There wouldn’t be another. Probably not ever.

Tameka wanted to change the subject before the tears came. “So this Iona-29 raid is the big one—”

“I’ve never known a better person than him.” At Caedes’ outburst, she couldn’t keep the shock from her face. “If I ever had to lose a chance for your heart to another, there was no one more acceptable. I’m afraid I’d make a poor substitute, so I won’t bother offering. I will swear my allegiance to any cause you herald from here on. I’ll be the best that I can be for you, Tameka.”

“I don’t understand…”

He gave her a crooked smirk and a casual shrug. “It’s like I told Callahan. I have a thing for redheads.”

Dizzy and confused, she shook her head and laughed. “You swear your allegiance to my hair?”

He nodded. “Yea, that’s pretty much it.”

“I got some crackers and water—Oh. Hi, Caedes.” Lynn approached the truck with snacks and bottled water brimming from the cradle of her arms. She realized that she interrupted something and stalled.

Caedes nodded to her. “I’ll go get the rest of the crates.” He turned and walked a few steps away before he called over his shoulder, “I can help with the feeding. Just ask if you need it.”

Lynn muttered, “What was that all about?”

This day got really complicated really fast.