Page 35 of Resistant

The lab is quiet this morning. Most of the time, I hear movement outside, the scuffing of shoes, voices, snippets of conversation, and the occasional janitorial cart passing by.

I’m working through a simulation and taking notes on the projected plant growth using a combination of nutrients, including the properties of my own blood.

I found an “old” file that appeared on my laptop this morning, a screenshot from the internet which described the use of menstrual blood in plant growth.Fucking weird people in The Before trying to make vampire plants.But at this point, I’m fighting a losing battle, and I know it. I’ll try anything. I’m stalling for time.

The power blinks, and a message appears on my screen. There is no text, only an attachment, which I open immediately.

The file is a black and white photocopy of documents, an intake file for a woman in the Resistance. I’m scanning the regular information about her height, weight, most of the remaining data is blank. No name or address, next of kin. I scroll to the next page and stop.

There are photocopies of mugshots of a woman I recognize well.Motherfucker!My Angel’s hair is shorter, and I can see cuts and bruises on her face.

Her face is sullen, and she looks exhausted and defeated. She has dark bruises under her eyes like she’s been awake for several days, but other than that, she lookshealthy.

Her shoulders and biceps look cut, like she lifts weights. Her cheekbones are still striking and prominent, but she has more of a roundness to her face and chin as compared to the woman I know.

I stare at the picture for another heartbeat and scroll down. Again, here most of the data is blank. I scroll down further and see a myriad of medical information. They must have done a medical exam when she arrived.

She’s undergone a total hysterectomy so she would never have been a candidate for the breeding programs. She might have gone largely unnoticed by the Reform because she was already barren when shit really went down.

I pause, shocked to discover she has no trace of The Sickness, which is impossible. Everyone suffered in some shape or form. Many people died, but those who remained largely suffered for a long time and underwent treatments for a year or so before recovering.

The Reform launched a myriad of treatments including pharmaceuticals, vaccines and detox therapies. It doesn’t look like my Angel participated in any of these trials.

I sit back in my chair and study the screen from a distance. I’m elated and horrified at what I’ve learned. My Angel is not just special to me, she’s special to the whole fucking world. She should not exist. She may be the answer we are looking for.Fuck.She needs to be protected. I need to protect her. I need to find out what this means. Who knows this about her? Has she received any therapeutics since she’s been in camp? Obviously, someone knows about her, they sent me her intake file. Who has access to this information? What am I up against? What am I going to do? Take her and go live off the grid somewhere and hope we are never found? Is there even such a thing as off the grid anymore?

I pace. I need more information, starting with what my Angel knows. I need to know her story and how she survived all this with little to no medical assistance. I need to know who this other woman is inside the camp that has been helping my Angel. I need to set up a meeting.

That must be my next step, figure out a way to set up a meeting. The new housing will be helpful in that respect. Fuck, I need to make some progress if I expect to get any more favors. I need more favors if I’m going to pull this crazy-ass burgeoning plan off. And I need to find out who is sending me these files.

Fuck, I need to stop fantasizing about fucking my Angel, because that’s all I want to do. All this other stuff is a momentary distraction from the way I want to possess her. I want to own all her pleasure, and I want it all right now.

Anticipation

Declan

The next day feels like the longest of my life. My mind is racing, tomorrow I’ll be moving into housing with my Angel.

I’m considering all these new developments and I’m leery and don’t fucking trust any of the staff.

I can’t clear my head, I keep coming back to the realization that I won’t be alone anymore, I’m afraid to hope. I don’t know anything about my Angel, and I also know that even though I claim her as mine, she isdefinitely not mine.

I lift another rock and place it over the mortar. Does the base housing have electricity? Who else is there, will we be able to trust anyone? Am I still expected to stay silent? Fuck, if they can keep me from talking to my Angel, I’ll find a way to make that happen. Because whatever is happening here, she seems to be the key to everything.And even though I don’t know her, I also don’t know if I can give her up.

Brynn

I move through my tasks in a blur. I’m numb and afraid to know how I feel about this move from the cells and living with a man.

Not a man Brynn, a fucking Adonis; he is smoking hot.My stocks guy, what did the woman say? His name is Declan? Is he the same person as 6457? Damn, I didn’t look for his tattoo.

I was too busy looking into his hypnotizing blue eyes, his jean-clad hips, and one ankle casually crossed over his knee. His dark wavy hair that I remember fisting and is too long and falling over his forehead. With his chiseled jaw and several days of scruff, I can’t keep myself from reliving the experience of his face between my thighs. He would have been way out of my league in The Before. When he walked by me and growled “Angel.” I almost came on the spot. Judging from his posture in the chair, he’s tall.

He didn’t sit in that office like a man subdued. He has a presence. And his voice, deep and powerful. I could get off on listening to him read the dictionary. It was all I could do to look away from him. The superior mentioned that my stocks man could keep me around to fuck nights if this didn’t work, and now I feel the shame in what I have done and will continue to do to survive.

Except worse, this time I’m enjoying it. I tell myself that I don’t have any other choice, but the bitch in my head is having none of that, no excuses.

The fact remains that I haven’t lived with anyone else since my family was taken from me. I’m worried about how this will affect my precarious emotional state. I know that I used to be strong, but I absolutely cannot become attached to this man. I can’t allow them to take anyone else from me.

I’m making deals with myself that he can be casual sex and a brief acquaintance.Ha! As if I can resist the Adonis! Whatever Brynn, you are going to have to get a grip. Maybe becoming multi-orgasmic will help the me survive emotional wreckage.

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