Chapter 8

WATER DRIPPED FROM the ceiling and trickled down the rock walls, creating a damp, slippery surface beneath her feet as she ran. With every step she took, her heart raced faster, her lungs seized painfully, and she gasped for breath. The shadowy tunnel seemed endless and eerily familiar, much like the malevolent force inching ever closer. She didn't know who or what it was. All Amy knew was she had to get away, and to do that, she had to go faster.

When her foot found a puddle and she stumbled, she cried out even while gasping for air from exertion. She felt an icy blast on her neck and scrambled to her feet. Despite her waning energy, she took off again, frantic to get away. Suddenly, the tunnel ended, becoming a wide cavernous opening. It had only one route in and out, the one she had recently traveled.

She turned with her back to the wall, waiting for the evil to descend upon her, but the being who exited the tunnel behind her wore the uniform of a Primarian warrior.

"Run!" she cried, "before it captures us both."

As if she had deeply insulted him, he shot her a look of impatience before quickly diverting his attention to the tunnel, where a black cloud of evil was billowing out. In that moment, he transformed into a hero straight out of an old Hollywood movie, emanating an aura of strength and determination.

Standing tall and formidable, he assumed a defensive stance, his muscles taut and ready. The cave remained eerily still, yet his long black hair whipped out behind him, defying the stagnant air. His enormous frame shielded her, blocking out the menacing, unidentified threat.

Although utterly petrified, she noticed every flex and bunch of his muscles. And how, in a testament to his strength and power, with a mere flick of his wrist, he flung the shapeless entity into the shadows, where it slunk away in defeat.

Spinning, he reached for her. "Let's get you out of here, mate," the warrior exclaimed as he swept her effortlessly into his arms and strode with her out of the cave.

Suddenly, her whole body jerked as the blaring of an alarm in her ear jolted her back to reality. Amy shut her eyes tightly and tried to hang on to the remnants of her dream while the warrior was still fresh in her mind. But the harder she tried to cling to him, the quicker he faded away.

With a growl of frustration, she opened her eyes to find her bedroom engulfed in darkness. The only hint of light was the soft glow emanating from Izzy's speaker. She rolled onto her side and glared at the AI helper.

"Did you know you have really crappy timing?" she asked the device. "You woke me before I got to see his eyes and tell which warrior twin it was!"

She was venting and didn't really expect an answer, but she got one.

"I am a household management program, Amy. The timing of your dreams is beyond my control. I also lack the physical ability to jerk you in any capacity, including out of a man's arms," Izzy replied in her calm, imperturbable, logical voice. " Perhaps you should consider setting a more appropriate sleep schedule to avoid interruptions during romantic moments."

Amy huffed in annoyance, aimed as much at herself as at her AI assistant. Arguing with a computer program was futile.

Even so, she muttered under her breath, "Thanks for nothing, Izzy old pal. You're becoming more trouble than you're worth. I have a good mind to unplug you and get an old-fashioned alarm clock instead."

Izzy's response was immediate. "I'm sorry my performance is unsatisfactory, Amy, but I am part of a network that provides optimal assistance in household management for all occupants of the residence hall. This includes monitoring the building for emergencies such as fire and alerting the appropriate response teams. A higher-level authorization than you possess would be required to follow through with your plan."

Realizing she was stuck with her overly helpful, yet frustrating AI companion, Amy ground out between her teeth, "Silent mode until further notice."

When three beeps sounded, indicating the command was received, Amy sighed and rolled over into her previous position, determined to return to her dream and hopefully catch a glimpse of her mystery warrior once again. But the blue flashing light on the speaker, Izzy's way of reminding her it was time to get up and go to work whether she liked it or not, penetrated her eyelids.

Her mistake was ordering the computer to shut up instead of shut down. That would have earned her yet another lecture on her lack of authority, however .

"Alarm off," she ordered as she threw back the covers. It didn't stop blinking until she got out of bed, the delay until she complied with a computer further irritating her.

Amy stomped to the bathroom in a foul mood, which didn't bode well for the rest of the day. Izzy aside, keeping up her cheerful fa?ade was getting harder with each passing sleepless night.

AT 8 A.M. SHARP, AMY unlocked the door and held it open as six anxious patients immediately filed in. None of them had appointments. This set the tone for the chaotic, drama-filled morning that followed.

As noon approached and the urgent cases were cleared, things became more orderly. This trend would persist through lunchtime, at least, when they closed for an hour to give the staff a much-needed chance to breathe and decompress.

Amy was about to call for lunch orders when a harried-looking Adria appeared at her doorway. Strands of her usually impeccable hair had come loose from her professional bun and were falling into her face.

"Rough morning?" she asked her friend, knowing full well that it was.

As if too tired to raise her hands and brush away the dangling strand in front of her eyes, she blew at it—twice. "I really need a break from this crazy place," she exclaimed, sounding desperate. "Let's go out for lunch."

"I'm up for it. Where should we go?"

"I can't even think about the Lunch Counter again. How about Milton's?" Adria suggested .

Amy suppressed her distaste and mustered a smile. She had worked at Milton's Diner and knew what went on behind the scenes in the kitchen. It was definitely not her first choice. She agreed, however, because the only other option was the coffee shop, which was usually wiped out by midday, the shelves emptied of cinnamon rolls and pastries in the busy morning rush.

Being a supportive friend, she didn't complain. Heaven knew Adria had always been there for her. She'd have a piece of pie. It came frozen, and even Milt couldn't screw that up.

"Milton's it is," she said cheerfully, hoping neither of them lived to regret the decision.

Despite the scorching heat, they walked, since it wasn't too far away. As they turned the corner at the end of the block, she could hear raised voices. The source of the commotion came from behind the diner, where a sizable crowd had gathered.

Curious, Amy mused aloud, "I wonder what that's about."

Clearly worn out, her friend let out a sigh. "I honestly do not know, but I hope no one is injured."

Amy glanced at her and teased, "Is that because you're a good person and genuinely care about others, or because you're a stressed-out doctor who can't handle any more patients?"

Adria's cheeks turned pink, contrasting notably with her lightly bronzed skin. "I cannot lie. It's option B, I'm afraid, which signifies I'm not a good person and automatically excludes option A."

Huffing a laugh at her friend's dry sense of humor, Amy linked their arms and steered them toward the back of the diner to satisfy her curiosity.

Milt had a large wooden shed near the rear entrance for storing dry goods and other supplies. Someone had bashed the door in and scattered dented cans, torn and crushed boxes, and other trash all over the yard. Closer inspection revealed long scrapes and deep gouges in the wood siding on the outer walls.

"The markings are strange," Amy observed. "They don't quite look like claw marks, but they sure don't look human. Neither do the puncture holes, which are everywhere. Poor Milt. He's going to have a cow over this."

Adria inquired, being her usual too-literal self, "In what world is anything but a cow capable of having a cow?"

"It's an expression, dear friend." Amy patted her hand and assured her, "You know how we earthlings are. We have a million of them."

Her gaze dropped to the front of the pale-yellow T-shirt Amy had found in a box at the general store the prior week. As soon as she saw the words stamped across the chest— Welcome to Terra Nova colony where WTF is whispered a million times a day —she had to have it. Truer words had never been spoken and for darn sure, they'd never been printed on a T-shirt before.

She snagged it, along with four others, before they even hit the shelves.

With a hint of a smile, Adria allowed, "Humans know how to turn a phrase. I'll give you that. You should hear some of Beck's Texas-isms."

Just then, the security detail for the colony, with Remus and Tarus in the lead, arrived on the scene. With a shrewd gaze, they quickly evaluated the situation and reached a decisive conclusion.

"A carmine boar made these markings," declared Tarus with unwavering certainty. He patiently waited for the murmurs of surprise and the barrage of shouted questions to subside before he further enlightened those gathered. "It's a large hoofed animal with horns and razor-sharp teeth. They get their name from their distinctive red fur."

Remus squatted and removed something from the splintered door. When he stood, he held up a clump of red bristly fur as proof his brother knew what he was talking about.

"But those marks go clear up to the eight-foot roof. This boar would have to be the size of a grizzly!" one man exclaimed.

"I'm not familiar with what you speak of," Remus replied, brushing his hands off before wiping them on the seat of his well-fitted uniform trousers. "A carmine boar stands taller than a warrior and weighs at least 1000 of your Earth pounds. They should be avoided unless you want to be gored by one of their three spiked horns."

"They sound prehistoric!" Amy breathed.

"Our warriors have hunted here for many decades. The elusive boar keeps drawing us back. They are both a challenge and a joy to hunt," Tarus countered as he exchanged a grin with his twin. "It has been a while since we've pursued wild game, Brother."

"My thoughts exactly," Remus replied, practically salivating.

"They're part of an elite guard, protect the colony, and, when not doing that, they train constantly. When do they find time to hunt?" Amy asked, surprised.

"They make the time. For as long as I can remember, my brother, the princep, and a host of warriors would disappear only to return many days later grubby and unshaven and stinking to high heaven. Trask would speak of his time away like it was a trip to paradise."

Amy's idea of paradise was a sandy beach, clear water below a cloudless blue sky, and sipping something fruity and potent, adorned with a paper umbrella. "What is it with men and hunting?"

Adria shrugged, equally clueless. "I don't see the appeal, but it's instinctual, I imagine. Not to mention they get to commune with their brothers, shoot and kill stuff, and run around in loincloths practically naked like our ancestors."

Eyeing the smoldering-hot twins, Amy drawled, "Except for shooting and killing stuff, that's a sight I'd like to see." Her comment was louder than intended and drew several pointed looks. Adria, in particular, suddenly seeming less tired and grinned knowingly.

Amy paid her no attention because at that moment, Remus announced, "Tarus and I will go after the boar. Until we bring it down, take precautions when moving about town."

"They are vicious and can be aggressive even when unprovoked," Tarus warned further. "For now, it is best to stay indoors and not go out alone or without protection until we have captured it."

Before they set off on their mission, they stopped in front of her and Adria.

"You are not to walk home alone," Tarus informed her, his tone firm. "We will arrange an escort for you until we have eliminated the threat."

Amy blinked up at him, caught off guard by his bossiness after only one date. She couldn't deny the underlying sweetness in his protectiveness toward her .

"Thank you. I'll feel safer coming and going with a warrior on guard," she replied, a hint of gratitude in her voice.

"We will always keep you safe, Amy. Trust in that,"Remus chimed in, a serious mien on his usually smiling, handsome face.

A warm feeling washed over her. The smile of thanks she intended faltered as the words "vicious" and "aggressive" triggered her anxiety. "You'll be careful, won't you?"

The twins shared a knowing glance, their smiles spreading slowly across their faces. "There are few things we enjoy more than a good hunt, but we are always careful, Amy," Tarus assured her. "We have much to live for."

"Don't fret, little one," Remus urged, his fingers lightly brushing her cheek. "We were bringing down carmine boars with bows and arrows when we were boys of seven."

"Would you like me to inform Beck of these developments?" Adria asked.

The twins turned to her with a clear sense of surprise to find her standing there.

"To save time, so you can start tracking the beast," she added, her lips curving up as if amused.

"That would be most helpful," Tarus stated with a slight bow to her before aiming a last lingering look Amy's way.

Remus' parting glance was just as heated.

"My, my..." Adria fanned her face with her hand when they swaggered away. "What were those smoldering looks about?"

Staring after them, Amy murmured vaguely, "They are exceptionally handsome, don't you think?"

"Yes, but I meant theirs, not yours. "

"I didn't notice," she murmured, her inner conflict over the twins and her inability to choose something she wasn't ready to discuss even with her closest confidant.

Adria snorted in disbelief but dropped it and moved on to another subject. "Did their bossiness bother you?"

"Not really. I've never had a man around long enough to want to protect me before," Amy admitted.

"Never?"

She shook her head.

Adria grunted and muttered, "Lucky you. That's been my life."

"Isn't it funny how we always want what we don't or cannot have? If their intentions are good, I think a little he-man attitude can be quite appealing."

Adria nodded in understanding. "Our men, especially our warriors, have a knack for being protective and bossy, but wrapping it in a handsome, caring, quite charming package. In truth, it can be maddening at times."

"I think it's kind of nice. And with two of them, twice as nice."

"Wait until it's a daily occurrence, not a passing fancy," Adria warned.

"You must be happy with Beck, then."

"Actually, I plan on having him tested for Primarian ancestry because he can boss like a warrior sometimes."

"Maybe that comes from being a leader. He runs a major operation with his construction company, and he is the mayor, after all."

"You may have something with the former, but he was only elected mayor this month! "

"Yes, but everyone has considered him the leader for much longer. Is it really so bad? You two seem so happy."

"It's not. And we are," she admitted. "Don't pay attention to me. When I'm tired and hungry, I get out of sorts."

"Then let's feed you, by all means."

They headed inside for lunch—dessert, in Amy's case. As Adria shared the trials from her chaotic morning, Amy picked at her apple pie, which was dry, crumbly, and unappealing, proving Milt could mess up even a slice-and-serve frozen pie.

She nodded and tried to listen as Adria vented, but with only half an ear, her thoughts consumed with the twins who had awakened something within her, a desire for security and companionship she had long been missing. As they set off to capture the dangerous boar, she couldn't help the surge of fear she felt. Fate never had treated her well, and she wouldn't rest easy until they returned home safely, without carmine boar gore holes riddling their bodies.