Saved and Savaged

Chapter 6 - Gric

I ignore Steil's shout and continue traipsing north. With the sun heating the left side of my face, I shake my head and huff, flicking the coagulating blood off my arm. My shoulder stings from the gunshot wound, but since it was a shallow scrape, it's already mostly healed. I suck down the wild desert air, using it to clear the scents from my nostrils.

Except no amount of walking or fresh air will erase her from my mind.

My soul roars, demanding I spin on my heel and race back to her, but I give my arms a vicious shake and roll my shoulders while continuing onward. A line of pain streaks across my hip, pulling my gaze down, and with a snarl I realize my tail lashed me in its aggravated flicking.

"Antlers on an ass! Quit it," I say to my tail, chastising myself for losing control. I grab it on its next swing and hold it in my dirty fist.

"Gric!"

I ignore Steil yet again, not ready to admit anything to myself, much less hear someone else say it. His next words ricochet through my brain and change everything.

"We have incoming. The second vehicle engaged a beacon. Turn around. Now."

Desperation and self-hatred spear through me, every decision I've made in the last hour haunting me with how horribly wrong I've been.

I brace my heels in the sand, creating a cloud of darkness amidst the last rays of sunlight, and twist, changing my trajectory and darting back the way I came. After cursing my stupidity, I locate the vehicle and curse again. My long legs carried me too far from the transport, the sky dimming as the sun sinks further below the horizon.

Steil runs beside me with footsteps as silent as mine. Over the din of the wind, another sound emerges, growing louder and louder the closer we get to our destination.

The moment I register the noise as multiple engines, Steil veers off to the north, calling for me to send Lyc to him for back up while Fek and I get the transporter full of females on the move.

I grunt an affirmation before pouring on more speed. The new vehicles are close enough to rumble the sand, yet wise enough to stay off the tops of dunes so we can't locate them by their profiles.

While these newcomers could be from a planetary faction or some feud between cities, most of the population habit the land around the shores—being this far inland almost guarantees they're ISC. And since my instincts scream with warning, I have no doubt they support the corporation we've sought to destroy for years.

Without time to check the ISC vehicle for trackers, the ideal course of action would be to move the omegas to ours, but by the time I reach the transporter, three vehicles crest the top of the dune.

Fek's bright orange scales glint in the dim light as he jumps into the driver's seat.

"Get in the back and provide cover."

His snarl raises my hackles, but I've already turned to the rear hatch, cursing myself yet again as the black hole mocks my earlier rage.

The females sit in the back without a door, exposed to the elements and any incoming fire.

I hop in and hold on to the roof as we jolt forward.

They huddle together on the floor, pressed tight to the farthest wall. My cock twitches as I meet smooth brown eyes—my omega uses one hand to keep her shirt closed while the other arm wraps around the same child she held the first time we met.

"Stay down. Hold on. It might get bumpy."

Gunshots sound much too close, the metal bumper pinging as bullets hit. Facing outward, I grab the top corners of the transporter, turning my body into as much of a shield as possible.