The Six: Genesis | A Reverse Harem Novel

Ninety-One

Fucking hell, why and how do my lips ache?

I've been in several fights, and yet, I'm unprepared for the immense level of crackling energy searing through me. I sit near a small clearing at the edge of the woods. The sweet zing of wild fruit sits on my tongue, but I long for more food.

I wish they ached for a better reason. Too much time with my lips wrapped around Lewis' dick. Or Chris', Charlie's, or Michael's.

Despite eating nearly my body weight on the train, exhaustion pulls at me. It's heavy, steadily dragging me down the harder I push myself. Sadly, I can't afford to rest for much longer.

It's humid. And despite the sun being nearly touching the horizon line, heat radiates through me like a furnace. Sweat drips down my temples and seeps into my clothes, making them itchy and clingy. Dirt settles in where the liquid doesn't quite dry.

But I need to keep moving.

When I finally drag myself to my feet, a plumb of black and grey smoke ominously curls toward the sky. Billowing like a smokestack, the tumultuous blobs form together in a raging storm. My stomach sinks.

Is that the train station? Did those people... die? Hopefully, Jason made it out alive. If he didn't, I wasn't sure how I'd forgive myself for leaving him there.

The nanites should have allowed him to be up and moving shortly after I left the train. If he ever sees me, he may have questions I have no desire to answer. And he could tell the guys he's seen me. Clenching my jaw, I stumble backward and about-face, readying to keep pushing forward.

A thick stripe of highway awaits. It's recently lain. Two wide stripes of yellow paint follow the black asphalt in either direction.

Cursing under my breath, I heave the Syndicate's head into my grip and scramble up the side of the ditch. I wish I could leave the damned thing behind—and I nearly do—but I need to know who is chasing me. A shudder racks my body and I drop the heavy metal skull on the ground, falling to my knees.

Unfortunately, the moment the skull strikes the ground, it too implodes. Like impacted glass, it shatters before me. I'm too depleted to cry, scream, or yell. Instead, I sink to my knees near its fractured remains.

"Incoming heat signature..." Iris says, and I sit up, scooting to the other side of the street. "Arrival of two heat signatures traveling at a speed of 120 kilometers per hour."

"Who is it?"

Wildly, I scrounge for a weapon, but the only thing near me is a large stick. It won't hold up against an Organism, but it's the best I have. Wearily, I scuttle to my feet and hold it out in front of me.

"Their origin is unclear," she pauses briefly. "I recommend we return to the woods and find cover."

If they're moving that fast, it's unlikely I'll make it to a far enough hiding spot. I'd need to cover my tracks and find a vantage point not easily spotted. Black dots pepper my vision as I consider her advice. Though the nanites have overworked themselves while continuously stitching me back together, I lack the energy to do much of anything other than try to remain standing.

"There's no time. If they attack, we give it all we got," I murmur, squaring my shoulders. "If we go down, we don't do so without a fight."

The unmistakable growl of a sports car bent into my ears. It doesn't slow at the curve or struggle to keep from spinning out when it meets it. Cherry-red and low-slung, the vintage Ferrari comes to a screeching halt before me. Three massive blacked-out SUVs pull up behind it, brakes screaming in protest.

This is it. It's over for me. Clutching my stick tighter, I back away, strategically placing more distance between myself and the vehicles.

For a moment, no one emerges, but in a flurry of sounds and reflection, a woman slips out of the Ferrari. Silver blonde hair, straight as bone, unfurls over a cream-colored femme pant suit. Stunned, I drop my stick.