Battlefield (4 page)

Despite what she had endured, Devyn was back up and training the next day.  Her back hurt like a mother but it was highly unlikely that the Superiors would let her rest a few days without more punishment.  Plus, she didn’t want to let down Rachel who was no doubt depending on her in order to practice.  Without training and without practice, a genome would be the weakest link, and a Unit was only as strong as its weakest link.  Devyn would be damned if she was the Unit’s weakest link. 

“Honey, what is wrong with you?” Rachel said in a sharp but hushed tone once Devyn met her outside that morning.  “I heard what happened to you and there is absolutely no way I’m training with you.”

“Why not?” Devyn asked, wincing as she shifted her shoulders in order to move her hands.  Instantly she masked the pain with a passive face, but not quickly enough.  Rachel didn’t have to say anything.  Instead, she pointed accusingly at Devyn, raising her brows as though she had just proved her point.  “Listen.  Go easy on me.  Do whatever you need to do.  That’s fine.  But I need to practice Rachel.  You know that.  If I don’t, the Superiors –
Sarah
– will sideline me, and I can’t let that happen.”

“And what happens when you can’t move, hmm?” Rachel asked, crossing her arms over her chest.  “What happens when your wounds only worsen and when we actually start this damn thing, you can barely move.  Then I’m going to have to risk my life babysitting you – and not that I don’t mind that, sweetie, I just can’t do that to your ego because no doubt you will be yelling at me the whole time, telling me how you can look after yourself.  And then we’ll both die, and that’s not cool, honey.”

Devyn pressed her lips together in order to keep an amused smile from slipping on her face.  She placed her hands on her hips, looking at the ground because she knew that if she looked at Rachel, she would start laughing.  Rachel could be quite amusing when she wasn’t even trying.

“Please Rachel,” Devyn said, looking up at Rachel once she felt sure she wouldn’t laugh.  “We’ll go easy.  I promise that if I hurt, I’ll tell you and we’ll take a break, okay?  But, to be honest, I really need this and I know you need this too.  Especially since I was gone for the past couple of days.”

Rachel thought about it for a long moment.  “Fine,” she finally decided.  A mischievous smile suddenly tainted the pureness of Rachel’s dark eyes.  “But only if you answer one question.”  Devyn raised her brow, indicating that she agreed while waiting for Rachel to ask.  A smile slipped onto Rachel’s face that suspiciously matched the sparkle in her eyes.  “Yesterday, they took Gerard away, no doubt to see you.  What happened with that?”

It took everything in Devyn not to roll her eyes, but somehow, she managed to succeed at the task.  After a few deep breaths, she cocked her head.  “I guess Sarah asked Gerard to corroborate my story about us engaging in our breeding duties, and he said yes.  Then they released me and he helped me back to my cell.  And before you asked, yes, he dressed my wounds okay?  Now can we please get on with this?”

Rachel smirked in triumph, though she placed her hand over her heart.  “Oh sweetie,” she murmured almost wistfully.  “You have to admit how romantic that is.”

“Whatever,” Devyn mumbled, now having no qualms with rolling her eyes.  “Can we start this?  Please?”

“Oh, fine,” Rachel replied.  “But if you hurt in any way, you had better tell me or I’ll kill you.”  She looked directly at Devyn, deadpan.  “You know I’m not kidding either, Dev.”  She instantly positioned her body in a fighting frame.  “Now let’s do this.”

--

It had been an hour when Gerard and Hugh took their first break.  Water was essential to successful fighting because it kept the body hydrated and the blood flowing to the brain.  As Gerard greedily downed a long gulp of water from his bottle, his green eyes glanced at the surrounding members of his Unit, gauging their success rate in battle.  It was only when his eyes took sight of a familiar set of golden hair did they narrow, and his grip on his water bottle increased quite dramatically.  What the hell was she doing practicing when there were wounds that littered her back and prevented her from doing things like this?  Did she even care that she was most likely in burning pain right now?  Was training that important?

Without a word to Hugh, Gerard dropped his water bottle and all but stalked over to the training women, his gaze fixed solely on Devyn.  He knew that he and Devyn weren’t friends, but he felt somewhat protective over her, especially in the past couple of days.  She was his breeding partner after all, and though they hadn’t actually consummated the act, he still looked out for her… though he couldn’t really explain as to why.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked in his Scottish lilt as he placed his hand firmly but mindfully on Devyn’s shoulder, stopping her and Rachel from training further.  “You were injured pretty badly yesterday, or did you forget that?”  Devyn turned so her eyes flashed into his, but Gerard held his ground.  The fact that he was so much taller than she was seemed to work in his favor, especially now.  “Look at your back, why don’t you?  You’re already starting to bleed!”

Though Rachel agreed whole-heartedly with Gerard, she couldn’t help but find that particular predicament to be quite amusing.  “Ooh,” she said in a teasing tone.  “Lover’s spat, you two?” 

“Rachel,” Devyn said, her tone sharp.  However, her eyes were focused primarily on the man before her, green matching green, both flashing emerald as though they were warning each other not to push it.

Without warning, Gerard reached out and grabbed Devyn’s hand, pulling her underneath a nearby tree where he knew they were secluded from both cameras and people who wanted to overhear their conversation – their fight.  People like Rachel.

“This may come as a shock to you, but women now are allowed to do whatever they want,” Devyn said, crossing her arms over her chest.  She tried to ignore the slow pain that was building up in her back, but it was so hard to do when it was getting worse and worse.  “They don’t need a man’s permission.”

“I’m not a sexist,” Gerard said, his brow furrowed in confusion at the mere notion that he was.  He placed his hands over his chest as he said, “I love women.  I’ve fought against strong women.  But what you’re doing is out of stubbornness.  You’re not doing this because it’s right or anything like that.  You’re doing this to prove a point.”

“Oh really?” Devyn asked, arching a brow and giving Gerard a challenging stare.  “Then, pray tell, what point am I trying to prove since you know me so well.”

“It’s what you said,” Gerard said, taking one step closer to her as though he was trying to remind her how tall he was, how strong he was.  Devyn would not allow herself to be intimidated by him.

Or distracted by how close he was to her.

“By you getting injured only twenty-four hours before and then coming out to fight, you’re telling everyone that you are not broken,” Gerard said, his voice suddenly quiet, his eyes suddenly calculating.  “Even the best warrior needs to know when to take a break.”

“Listen,” Devyn said through gritted teeth, after allowing her mind to process everything he said.  “I don’t know how they did it in Scotland, but if you miss one day of training and they find out, they bench you.  You don’t get to participate in this little game they’ve conjured up.  They have no problem saving you for the next one they’re probably going to have next year.”

Gerard looked like he was about to argue, but slowly shut his mouth.  If such a thing were true, he couldn’t exactly blame her for at least attempting to train.  But that still didn’t mean she should.  Though she wasn’t bleeding very much, she was still bleeding to the point where it was noticeable and he knew he would have to dress her wounds.  Not that he minded; he was just frustrated she had them in the first place.

“And I’m not going to let Rachel down,” Devyn continued, though now her voice was hushed and her eyes were fixed somewhere else.  “If I’m benched then so is Rachel because I’m her training partner.  I can’t let that happen.”

“Why do you want to be a part of this competition so badly?” Gerard asked her.  He wasn’t being rude or angry, but he was frustrated that he couldn’t understand her.

“Freedom,” she said in a whisper, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.  “Freedom.” 

The following two days went pretty much the same way.  Devyn and Rachel would train together, and though Gerard never admitted it, he watched the two fight in order to ensure Devyn didn’t hurt herself anymore while fighting with Hugh.  After lunch, Gerard would take Devyn back to her cell, but instead of engaging in procreation, as they should be doing, he would dress her wounds and make sure that she was all right. 

The two, though they would never agree, were decidedly getting along, better and better with each passing day.  They still argued constantly; it wasn’t uncommon to see Gerard approaching Devyn after she attempted to do some move that she definitely shouldn’t be doing in case she harmed herself even more.  They would fight and then stop, and then the cycle would continue.  Rachel and Hugh found it overwhelmingly amusing, and Rachel always wished she had a bag of popcorn during such instances because they were probably the most entertaining thing she had ever seen.  She could feel the sexual tension between the two, and it was incredibly surprising that they had yet to actually consummate their breeding relationship.  It was an excuse to sleep with a hot guy.  How could Devyn not want to get in on that?

Although, as Rachel continued to think about it, she realized that Devyn was lucky to have someone like Gerard as her breeding partner.  She didn’t know every single man that was a part of the International Genealogy Laboratory, but if there were five other Units, and each Unit had six people…  Well, all she knew was that Devyn was lucky Gerard hadn’t forced her to do anything she didn’t want to do, nor had he told that Devyn refused to cooperate with the breeding practices.  She furrowed her brow.  In a weird way, the two seemed to be made for each other.

Currently, Gerard was leaning over Devyn’s bed with a damp wash cloth, slowly rubbing it on Devyn’s bare back.  He should be used to such an occurrence, but somehow, he always managed to find something new with her.  Whether it was the warmth of her skin, the goosebumps she got whenever she got cold, the way her back curved in before curving out…  His pale-green eyes swept over her body, from her slender shoulder to the majority of her frame…  The wounds were healing, he noticed.  Yes, they were currently scabbing, but soon they would only be little red lines.  Soon, Devyn wouldn’t need him to clean her wounds anymore.

“How are you feeling?” Gerard asked her once he had finished with that.  He grabbed a dry towel and carefully began to dab the wetness the damp towel had left behind.  “I mean, with your back while you train?”

“Better,” Devyn said, though her voice was muffled by her pillow and her forearms.  She tilted her head so she could speak clearer.  “It doesn’t hurt as much as it normally does, but there are times I can feel the strain.”

Gerard nodded but said nothing.  He really didn’t feel the necessity to say anything, to be honest.  He couldn’t lecture her anymore than he already had, and even if he did, he knew that he’d be hypocritical concerning the matter because if he was in her position, he would probably do the same exact thing.  Once he wrapped the bandages around her torso, being mindful not to touch anything he wasn’t supposed to, he allowed his fingertips to caress the small of her back.  Of course he would never say anything out loud, but he loved the way her back felt – so smooth and soft, so warm.  She had a beautiful back, injury or not.

“You have a smart mouth, Devyn,” he told her in his usual rough, Scottish voice as he tied the white medical tape together, “but I’ve come to notice that you’re lacking in your fighting ability.”  He really didn’t want to start a fight, but he wanted her to know that she needed to step up her game if her primary goal was to get out of there.

Devyn thought about responding immediately in a defensive tone, but she managed to swallow her retort just in time.  Instead, she chose to concentrate on the softness of her pillow underneath her face or the way Gerard’s fingertips would accidentally brush over her skin…  “I’m the highest ranking female in the Unit,” she told him quickly, hoping to get her thoughts off of the man who was currently taking care of her.

Gerard shrugged his shoulders though he knew Devyn couldn’t see him.  “You could be better,” he told her, crossing his arms on the surface of the bed and resting his head on them so he could get a good look at the woman in front of him.  The next words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, but once he said them, he refused to take them back.  Probably because he meant them.  “I could teach you.”

Devyn arched a doubtful brow and locked eyes with Gerard.  “And why would I take lessons from you?” she asked him, her tone mirroring the look on her face.

“Because you need them,” he teased, a soft smile on his face as he shifted his eyes from hers and instead, placed them gently on her back.  For whatever reason, his fingers began to trace mindless patterns on her side, causing goosebumps to trail behind him.  “Because you value your freedom.”  His smile fell from his face, but it wasn’t because he was sad.  Gerard was suddenly serious, and hoped Devyn didn’t take it as some smart attack on her character.  “You should want to know all you can about escaping, don’t you?”

Devyn looked at him, though she could only see him from an awkward angle due to her current position on the bed.  “Of course,” she told him, and though her tone was soft, she still said it as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You know,” he began before closing his mouth.  Gerard paused, unsure if he should tell her what he wanted to say, unsure if it mattered.  But on the tiny chance that it did, he let out a breath, and murmured, “You might not believe me, but I want to get out of this place as much as you do.”

Upon hearing this, Devyn cocked her head to the side and allowed her eyes to sweep over Gerard’s face.  Initially, she thought this was simply her body’s way of seeing whether or not the man in front of her was lying, but deep down she knew it was just another excuse to look at him.  He was incredibly handsome, especially now that slight whiskers covered the lower half of his face.  It made him manly, rugged, and dangerous.  And the best thing about it was that he was all hers.  Relatively speaking, of course.  She had been assigned to him just like he had been assigned to her.  They sort of belonged together.

And those eyes…  Was there anything he couldn’t see through?

Devyn closed her own and tried to shake away such thoughts, not allowing herself to dwell on them.  Gerard was arrogant and a prick, remember?  Just because he was good looking did not make up for it in any way.  “Do you really think we can get out of here?” she asked him, genuinely interested in his opinion on the matter.  She had opened her eyes as she asked, making sure she looked at him with keen interest.  “Do you think we could actually win?”

“I have no doubt,” Gerard told her, nodding his head a couple of times to emphasize his point.  “My only concern is whether or not the Superiors would actually let us go if we do make it.”  He watched her reaction to his observation, but she didn’t seem appalled or upset by the notion.  In fact, she actually seemed to look like she was agreeing with him, if that was even possible.

“I know,” she said, surprising him even more by voicing her agreement.  “I know.  I feel the same way.”  She bit her bottom lip, a surprisingly vulnerable gesture he never thought he would see administered by her.  His mind decided to take that away for later depiction of it should he need it at all in the future.  He would never admit it, but it was endearing.  “So what do we do?” she asked him quietly, returning her eyes into his.

It was flattering, to say the least, that she seemed to believe he might be able to take care of her.  And maybe he could.  He knew he wanted to; he wanted to ensure that his entire Unit would be getting out of this prison.  But he didn’t exactly have a plan.  At least not yet.  “We will make a plan,” he told her, his voice filled with undeniable conviction.  “We will make a plan, and then, no matter what, we will escape.”

Despite the fact that his beliefs were strong, there was no merit to them.  He couldn’t be sure that what he said was true.  And yet, somehow, Devyn believed him.