Just a Rogue

Amelia

After we force ourselves to finish our shower, washing off the whole new sticky mess that we have made of ourselves, Dom and I quickly go to the cafeteria for breakfast before heading our separate ways. He will be on the drone team out at the trailhead, and I’ll be on monitor duty. We still sit at our little table in the back together, even though we aren’t trying to hide anything now. We just like it, it seems like our spot, reminds us of how we began.

We’re alone today at the table. Corinne obviously isn’t here, and neither is Evan. Maybe he’s too cranky to eat. I know how hard this is on him.

“I hate to leave you,” Dom grumbles softly. “Why’d you have to put us on separate teams?”

I respond silently, through our mind link, to remind him. “You’re not leaving me. We’re never apart. See?” I send him the mental image of me holding him, kissing him, and I feel his amusement.

“Besides,” I continue out loud, “there are a lot of slots to fill in the schedule. You’re really good at controlling the drones, that’s where you should focus.”

“Fine,” he sighs, and picks up my hand, lifting my fingers to his mouth. It still causes a little jolt every time, the pleasurable little tingles of feeling rushing outwards from the point of contact. I hope this never diminishes, even if we are together for a century.

“Also,” I point out, “we really shouldn’t be together for any of it, because we are basically another drone.”

“What?”

“I can always show you what I’m seeing, and you can always show me what you’re seeing. So if you see something totally aside from what your drone is doing, that’ll be another data point for us back here in the conference room.”

He chuckles. “Why did I have to end up with such a smart mate? You’ve got this all figured out.”

It amuses me. He’s a huge techie, a sci-fi nerd, a mechanic, and I know that he is way smarter than I am. He obviously overhears that, for he murmurs, “False, but at least I was smart enough to find you.”

When it’s time for him to go, I walk him out the back door of the packhouse. But before he can proceed down to the garage to get the car and bring it around to pick up the other folks on this morning’s drone team, I grab him. I don’t think anyone else is around to watch, but honestly I don’t really care.

He’s surprised by my impulsive attack, a little off balance as I push him into the back side of the packhouse, and drag his head down, pressing my mouth to his, drinking in his flavor and his delicious scent of chocolate and the ocean. He’s all in, quickly moving his hands behind me to crush me to him, and he chases my tongue back out of his mouth to get into mine.

“Sproing?” I think to him.

“Oh yeah,” he thinks back, “you’ll pay for this later.”

I smile against his mouth.

When we release each other, we’re both flushed and a little shaky, and it amuses me to see him stagger just a bit as he starts walking towards the garage. Off to go rogue hunting with drones.

I’d like to wait and watch him go, admiring his broad shoulders and narrow waist as he lopes back to the garage, but I don’t have time. I turn away and head back to the command center in the conference room.

Ruby

I get out ahead of the male wolves, which is not uncommon. I’m smaller, and maybe that is what makes me faster. As I run, I am keeping my eyes and nose open for the signs of prey. I plan to hunt as we go, to fuel the effort that this run will be taking. My wolf is powerful, swift, and hungry.

A flash of movement to the side draws my immediate attention, and the scent leads me inexorably to a rabbit trying to hide in a bush, having made the ill-fated decision to leave its burrow in search of breakfast. My nose finds the creature in a second, and in another my teeth have it in my grasp. A quick and violent shake ends its suffering and I prepare to quickly devour it.

But the others have caught up to me, and Wyatt leaps upon me. He is the largest male, huge and brown. His massive body rolls my smaller mottled wolf over, and he grabs the rabbit from my teeth.

I don’t try to fight for it. There is no point. It would be a losing battle. I don’t waste time with resentment, but rather continue my run. There will be more rabbits.

Probably another half hour passes. As wolves, we have a different sense of the flow of time than we do as humans, so it is hard to know exactly. Again I am at the front of the pack, running with ease through the woods we are currently in, gradually descending the mountain. The scent of new prey catches my attention, and I have quickly tracked and killed a marmot, larger than the rabbit which was stolen from me.

Again, I am not fast enough to devour it before the male wolves are upon me, and another plows into me, and begins grasping it with his teeth. I don’t let go so easily this time, snarling at him.

Another wolf intervenes, and I see it is Hugh, third in command after Seth, and I imagine I will be forced to relinquish the meal to him. I am surprised, though, to see that he is snarling at the thief, who I realize now is Landon, and snaps at his neck with sharp teeth. The marmot remains with me, while the thief stalks sulkily away.

Hugh’s wolf meets my eyes, he gives me a small nod, and I am left to devour my meal in peace.

I appreciate it.

Hugh

Lazy assholes. They know how fast Ruby is, and they assume that she will be hunting and providing them with food as we run. It happens all the time. In the pack hierarchy it is common for the females to hunt and for the males to benefit, and I’ll allow it to some extent, but I don’t want to see her efforts go entirely unrewarded. I allow Wyatt to steal her first kill, but I stop Landon. Let these fools find their own breakfast.

We leave her behind to finish her meal. She’ll catch up to us soon enough.

We are taking a fairly direct path to the coast, diverting from a straight line only enough to avoid climbing the mountains. We skirt around the edges of the higher elevations, dashing through thickly wooded valleys, fording or even swimming across streams, avoiding roads or human habitations. Our route is shorter but it will take us longer, running while Seth will be able to get them to Trinidad by car. Once they hit the highway he’ll be going 80 miles per hour. We can run fast, but not that fast.

I catch the scent of a herd of deer in a valley below where we are running, and I consider diverting the group to hunt, but I hate to delay. Xavier is angry enough, I don’t want to be so late arriving that he is furious. By the time we get there, he will already have determined whether the Trinidad cave is lost, and will be making plans, and we have to be there as soon as possible to receive our instructions.

The question of whether to hunt is rendered moot, though, as far as I am concerned, when Ruby dashes to the side, and in a moment returns with a large squirrel in her jaws. The other males glance at me to see if I will allow it to be stolen from her, but instead she stalks directly to me, and drops the meat to the ground in front of my paws.

Her wolf meets my eyes, and she gives me a small nod. I appreciate it.

Corinne

I methodically make my way through the belongings in the cave. I start with the food, carefully finding each can and box and bag which has been left scattered around, and returning them all to the large plastic bin in a little alcove in the cave wall, where they should be stored to prevent rodents from accessing them. Some of it has been spoiled by animals and insects, and these items I set aside in another area.

I do not eat any of the food. It is not mine to enjoy. I ran away. I forfeited my right to share in any of the rogues’ resources. Before I left the packhouse, Darlene made sure that my backpack was fully stocked with enough healthy energy bars and dried fruit and other provisions to last me for a few days, and I am rationing that very carefully. I do not know how long I will be waiting in here.

After I have sorted out the food, I work on the other items in the cave. I gather and stack any dishes, I fold blankets, I check the stock of toiletries, such as feminine hygiene products, hand sanitizer, and soap. It is all carefully organized by the time I am finished.

The last thing I address is the clothing. I almost hate to touch it, because I know that my scent will be left on it, and there might be some who will resent a runaway such as me for handling their belongings. But I am on a cleaning roll, and I can’t stand to sit here doing nothing while there is still any task remaining to keep me occupied. So I carefully sort out the jumble of clothing on the ground, sniffing each garment to identify the scent of the last person who wore it. I fold everything carefully, and leave a tidy stack at the sleeping area of each member of the group.

I finally run out of things to do. I look around the now tidy cave in the dim light. Great. I’ve managed to fill one morning, and now what on earth am I going to do? I don’t want to just sit here fearing Xavier’s return. But I’m worried about leaving the cave. I really think it would be best to be inside when they arrive, because I must immediately submit to Xavier the moment he sees me, and know the best way to do that is to lie at his feet. If he were to return while I was up on the hill or roaming around in the woods, it would diminish my intent. It would be particularly bad if I’m not here but he smells my fresh scent, and has to go hunting for me. I can’t let that happen. I have to throw myself at his mercy. That is best done in here.

So I’ll stay. I walk down the tunnel a little ways, but it is too dark to see anything at all, so I come back, and just lie down on my blanket, and stare at the dark ceiling of the cave, and wait.