I search for a safe place with enough moonlight to see her.
Spying a clearing to my left, I head in that direction. I come upon a rusty metal structure from the old world and test it with my tail. The structure is overgrown with plants, but it holds. When I move closer, I recognize it as one of those vehicles humans used to travel by. A car, a large one.
Outside the mountains, there are thousands of them scattered across the wastes.
I carefully set my female on the forest floor and search for the door, finding it quickly. I use my spear to cut through the stems, removing the vines keeping the vehicle closed. Once gone, I tug the handle.
The door comes off with a crunch.
My female moans.
I stop, waiting to see if she wakes up. Thankfully, she doesn’t. I turn back to the vehicle, setting the broken, now crumbling door aside, and gently lift my female into my arms, slithering into the space, leaving the majority of my tail outside.
It’s dirty and broken inside, and the seats are not comfortable. But the frame remains sound and the overgrowth on the sides makes it relatively private. There’s a hole in the roof, and I push the vines aside to allow in moonlight. My sweet burden twists in my arms but eventually settles back into sleep.
She’s fascinating.
I’ve seen many human females, though I thought they no longer existed. I’ve grown up with their unused technology hidden all around me. It’s everywhere if one looks hard enough. Even now, I see an orb on the seat next to me and pick it up, dusting it off. All orbs are connected like all the technology is.
There’s a relay near the plateau that feeds power to the tech that remains, and though I have never seen it, I know it’s there, hidden.
It belongs to Zaku.
The orbs I have collected are within my den, and I’ve watched videos through them, whatever I ask them to play me. And human females are often on them. These fake humans have kept me company since my father slipped into the forest, never to return.
But the screens only show me things of the past and what can be immediately viewed in the present. They only work if they’ve been in the sunlight to charge, but then they last for hours.
My father once told me that he, my sisters, and I were the only Vipers in the world, and though as a youngling, I didn’t believe him nor understand him, I do now. I have never seen another like me. Not on an orb, not on a screen either.
Females of my kind… were not common. My mother was the only female Viper until she laid her litter, bringing me and my sisters into the world. And like all naga women back then who conceived a litter, she died giving birth to it.
Inhaling, I curl my arms around my female, trying to make her comfortable. I lean us back against the vehicle’s interior frame.
If she is comfortable, she will sleep longer, and I will get more time to enjoy her.
I reach for her hair and twirl it with my fingers. It had been pulled back earlier, but now it tangles around her shoulders. I wish I could see the redness of it, but the moonlight and shadows bleed out the color. It’s wispy and soft like gently flowing water.
The moonlight shines down on her face, stealing my attention from the feel of her strands, and my gaze shifts down. She wears blue-colored clothes that match. Using my free hand, I tug at the cloth, confused as to why anyone would wear so much at once. It is the hot season, and I can’t stand any barrier on my skin in this heat.
But humans on the screens often wore clothes unless they were bathing—or mating. Since my female is sleeping, I let her keep them on. It can get chilly at night.
I notice a tag on her chest, and my fingers pinch it. Plastic? Something is written on it, and I spin it around to read what it says.
Gemma Hurst.
Bridge Officer and Communications Director.
She communicates with others? She is specialized in this?
I’m intrigued. How can someone specialize in communication? If her world is anything like the one I’ve seen on screens, then I can venture a guess…
I’ve seen a lot of miscommunication.
I release her tag, and it rights itself on her shirt. Sliding my upper tail under her legs, I bring her closer, reveling in the sensation of her against me.
Her body weighs little, but I felt the strain of her muscles pushing at me as I carried her earlier. She is strong despite her size, too strong. She fought me and Azsote and nearly got herself killed in the process. A rumbling leaves my throat. If she had died, I would have sought retribution. I would’ve attacked the facility where the other humans are and destroyed them.
I still might.
I would kill Zaku too, for spurring such a plan that resulted in her death. I despise the King Cobra as much as I am thankful he got the human females out of the facility for us.
Because otherwise, I would be gathering my weapons and infiltrating the base.
Hearing a soft moan, my eyes snap to Gemma’s mouth. She sucks in and groans, shuddering once all over. It happens again with the next breath. Fear strikes me from the rasping sounds, and I shake her.
“Human? What’s wrong? Wake up!”
The rasping turns into another moan as she startles and opens her eyes. She catches sight of me and—
I slam my palm over her mouth, muffling her scream.
She’s tearing at me the next moment, and our limbs hit
