Page 23 of Stalker
Stalker kept his hands on the steering bar grips and retracted his helmet. The five men advanced until they were about ten feet from them.
“I’m Carver Monroe. This is Ashblade territory. Did I hear right? This Enclave is taking over our village?”
“You will still have control over your village, but there are certain laws you must follow,” Stalker explained with the authority of his position. “You cannot hold people against their will, nor can you force anyone to perform manual labor or sexual acts, and you cannot buy or sell people for any reason.”
Chapter Thirteen
“And who is going to enforce that? You?” Carver asked in a taunting tone.
“Among others…” Stalker replied without emotion. “I’m not here for that today. I’m only here to give you the information. The Enclave can do a lot to improve living conditions with new homes and modern conveniences.”
Stalker reached into a pocket and pulled out a folded com-tablet. The four men flanking Byron raised their weapons, aiming them at him. He suppressed a smirk; they had no idea that he could be on top of them before they could even pull their triggers.
“Satellite communication has been restored for the world. I have a com-tablet for you so you can contact the Enclave directly. It's voice-operated if you don’t read or write,” he said with a passive expression, pretending he didn’t know they were trying to decide if they could take him or not.
Stalker swung his leg over the front of the bike and took a couple steps toward them, holding the tablet out so they could see it. They lowered their weapons again, but without engaging the safety switches. He showed Carver how to use it and set it to recognize that man’s voice, handing it to him when he finished.
“Is that a female you have on the back of your machine?” Carver asked with undisguised interest. Neely’s body armor adhered to her figure, outlining her ample breasts.
Neely’s hand went to her blaster's grip, which was currently set on heavy stun.
Stalker went very still. “I think that’s obvious.” His tone was calm and controlled. “What is your interest?”
“Some of my men need mates, and they are willing to share.”
“I am not.”
“She is yours?”
“We are mates.”
“Can we at least have a look at her?”
“To what purpose?”
Carver’s men raised their guns again and pointed them all at Stalker.
“To see if we want her or not,” said Carver smugly. Apparently, he thought they could intimidate Stalker with their projectile weapons.
“You do recall that I am acyborgranger?” he said, hearing Neely pull her weapon from its holster.
“That don’t mean nothing to us,” Carver said, pointing his shotgun at Stalker.
Stalker considered that these people didn’t know about cyborgs because communications had been lost generations before they were born.
Deciding to teach them, Stalker stepped forward, wresting the shotgun from Carver and hitting him in the midsection with the butt. He hit the man beside him in the head with the gun and grabbed his weapon, kicking the gun from the man beside him. Pivoting, he smashed the shotgun into the fourth man's head, grabbed his weapon, tossed it aside, and punched the fifth man.
“It doesn’t matter if you want her or not.” Stalker picked up the guns and flung each one of them away as hard as he could. “She has chosen me… Only me!”
All five men lay on the ground groaning while Stalker strode back to his bike, swinging his leg over the handlebar to mount it. Setting it in motion, he headed to the next stop.
“You didn’t have to do that,” said Neely, sliding her arms around his waist. “I can take care of myself, you know.”
“It was an emotional response. I needed to educate them.”
Neely chuckled. “It was fun to watch.” She tightened her arms around him and rested her helmet against his back.
The next place they went, they were also greeted by armed men.
