Fiends

twisting at the ends of her chains as she kicked at Morgan. Her face wore a fierce grimace. Her hair clung to her face. Her skin, apparently oiled by Phil, gleamed and poured sweat. The shackles had cut into her wrists, and blood streamed down her arms and sides.

    Phil lay motionless on the floor beneath her wild, kicking body. His head was turned. Too much.

    She’d broken his neck?

    How could she?

    Even as Jim wondered, he saw Morgan lurch forward and grab one of her darting ankles. Diane shot her other leg high. With a cry of pain, she twisted her body and hooked her foot behind Morgan’s head. The big man stumbled toward her, gasping with alarm. He lost his hold on her ankle. That leg flew up. In an instant, he was on his knees, his head trapped between her thighs.

    Morgan’s dilemma seemed to snap the audience of Guardians out of their stunned fascination.

    Jim joined the others in their rush to the rescue.

    He grabbed one leg. Bart grabbed the other. They forced her thighs apart, freeing Morgan. The man slumped on top of Phil’s body, made a quick little whimpery sound, and scurried backward.

    ‘Take Phil out of here,’ said Rooney, the head Guardian.

    The body was dragged from under Diane and taken from the room.

    ‘What’ll we do with her?’ Jim asked.

    ‘Let her hang,’ Rooney said. ‘We’ll wait for tonight and let Roger take care of her.’

    They released her legs and backed up quickly.

    She dangled, swaying back and forth, her eyes fixed on Jim.

    He paused in the doorway. He knew he would never see her again.

10

    He was wrong.

    He saw her a month later when he relieved Biff and began his new duty of monitoring video screens in the Security Center. Diane was on one of the dozen small screens. Alone. In the Punishment Room.

    Jim couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d been certain that Roger had killed her - probably torturing her, allowing the other vampires small samples of her blood before draining her himself. Jim had seen that done, once, to a Donor who tried to escape. Diane’s crime had been much worse. She’d murdered a Guardian.

    Instead of taking her life, however, Roger had merely sent her to the Punishment Room. Which amounted to little more than solitary confinement.

    Incredible. Wonderful.

11

    Night after night, alone in the Security Center, Jim watched her.

    He watched her sleep on the concrete floor, a sheet wrapped around her naked body. He watched her sit motionless, cross-legged, gazing at the walls. He watched her squat on a metal bucket to relieve herself. Sometimes, she gave herself sponge baths.

    Frequently, she exercised. For hours at a time, she would stretch, run in place, kick and leap, do sit-up and push-up and handstands. Jim loved to watch her quick, graceful motions, the flow of her sleek muscles, the way her hair danced and how her breasts jiggled and swayed. He loved the sheen of sweat that made her body glisten.

    He could never see enough of her.

    Every day, he waited eagerly for the hour when he could relieve Biff and be alone with Diane.

    When he had to go on night raids, he was miserable. But he did his duty. He rounded up outlaw women. Some became Specials, and he visited them in Honors Rooms, but when he was with them he always tried to pretend they were Diane.

    Then one night, watching her exercise, he noticed that her belly didn’t look quite flat.

    ‘No,’ he murmured.

12

    Throughout the winter, he watched her grow. Every night, she seemed larger. Her breasts swelled and her belly became a bulging mound.

    He often wondered whose child she was bearing. It might be his. It might be Phil’s.

    He worried, always, about Delivery Day.

13

    During his free time, he began making solitary treks into the wood surrounding the estate.

    He took his sub-machine-gun and machete.

    He often came back with game, which he delivered afterwards to Jones in the kitchen. The grinning chef was always delighted to receive the fresh meat. He was glad to have Jim’s company while he prepared it for the Guardians’ evening meal.

14

    Spring came. One morning at six, just as Bart entered the Security Center to relieve Jim of his watch, Diane flinched awake, grimacing. She drew her knees up. She clutched her huge belly through the sheet.

    ‘What gives?’ Bart asked.

    Jim shook his head.

    Bart studied the monitor. ‘She’s starting contractions. I’d better ring up Doc.’

    Bart made the call. Then he took over Jim’s seat in front of the video screens.

    ‘I think I’ll stick around,’ Jim said.

    Bart chuckled. ‘Help yourself.’

    He stayed. He watched the monitor. Soon, Doc and Morgan and Donner entered the cell. They slung the sheet aside. Morgan and Donner forced Diane’s legs apart. Doc inspected her. Then they lifted her onto a gurney and strapped her down. They rolled the gurney out of the cell.

    ‘I’ll pick ’em up in the Prep Room,’ Bart muttered. ‘That’s what you want to see, right?’ He leered over his shoulder.

    Jim forced a smile. ‘You got it.’

    Bart fingered some buttons. The deserted Punishment Room vanished from the screen, and the Prep Room appeared.

    Doc and his assistants rolled the gurney in.

    He soaked a pad with chloroform, and pressed it against Diane’s nose and mouth until she passed out. Then the straps were unfastened. After being sprayed with water, she was rubbed with white foam. All three men went at her with razors.