Wayward Son by Heath Stallcup Page A

back of the truck and sliced through their front line. That’s heavy fuckin’ duty, man.”
    John chuckled to himself. “You heard wrong. I was safe and sound in the armored cab with Spanky. Doc installed a remote trigger in the console. There’s a real nice crosshair TV screen mounted in the dash.”
    Dave rolled his eyes. “I should have known. The way stories get stretched around here…give it a week and you’ll have thrown the truck up to the main deck, then climbed in the back and breathed fire from your nostrils while you were shooting them down.”
    John broke into laughter which brought a stern stare from Hammer. “Please hold it steady.”
    “Sorry.” John kept snickering as he thought about Marshall’s warning. “Any advice for when that happens?”
    Dave gave him a toothy grin. “Just ride the wave, baby. Nod your head, tell them ‘hell yeah, that’s exactly how it happened’ and ride the wave of fame while you can.”
    “Really?” John couldn’t see himself being a glory hound.
    “Hell yeah. Because next week it will be somebody else, and you know they’ll do it.” Dave hiked a brow at him. “Especially if it’s me. I’ll blow that shit up ‘til they think I’m Superman.”
    “Well, if it’s all the same, I think I’ll stick with the truth.” He saw Dave’s face fall. “No offense, I’m just not the embellishing kind.”
    “Hey, whatever floats your boat, baby. I’m just saying we all do it. More to blow off steam than anything.” Dave felt the dish shift and he quickly adjusted his grip and realigned it. “So no offense taken.”
    Hammer stepped back and eyeballed the work. “I think that’s it. Let it go so we can see if the cables hold.” Both men gently released their grip and the dish remained solid. Hammer nodded as he turned back toward the hangar. “We should have coms again and I’ll order up some concrete so we can get these posts reset.”
    “We got eyes and ears again?” Dave asked. “You sure?”
    “I’m not positive, but the dishes were the only components actually damaged. We should.”
    “Excellent. I don’t want to miss my soaps.” Dave trotted past the two and made for the door.
    Hammer turned to John and gave him a questioning look. “Was he for real?”
    “God, I hope not.”

 
    4
     
     
     
    Doctor Peters collapsed onto his bed and ran his hands through his hair. In the extremely dim light of his bare room, he sighed heavily and cast a quick glance at the framed photograph of Laura that sat beside his tiny bed. How he missed her in times of stress. She was truly his anchor.
    After they had said their good byes, he truly feared he wouldn’t see her again. To come back to Oklahoma and find her waiting at the hangar nearly made his heart start beating on its own again.
    The nights they had spent together afterward, carefully pushing the limits and boundaries of their physical relationship, to him it almost felt as if the two had been bound together. He metered out his bites to her, keeping them limited to places where the punctures wouldn’t be seen. The blood bond that formed between them grew and continued to grow each time they did it.
    He watched her carefully. He wanted to be sure that she wouldn’t accidentally become addicted to the rush she got from his bites. He smiled to himself as he recalled the one time he nearly lost control and bit her neck right at the moment of orgasm. It had sent her so far over the edge that he wasn’t sure he would stop. Luckily for them both, he had bitten far enough back on her neck that her hair or uniform or both covered the bite marks that quickly faded.
    Completely sated and feeling much like he had as a human at Thanksgiving feasts, he lay back on his cot and felt the massive amount of blood in his stomach literally slosh as he moved. Without a proper suction machine, he’d been stuck keeping the wounds clean, and he knew he couldn’t just spit it onto the floor. He had drunk enough to keep