Chapter 3

Randall Davis runs for his life. He runs for the desert. All that surrounds the energy plant is desert. For miles and miles it stretches outward—sand, rock, cactus and shrubbery. He doesn’t really stand a chance out there without water or protection from the sun, but anywhere is better than the plant.

A cling on the metal grate behind him causes his heart to beat even faster. I’m not going to make it! His mind screams for his legs to move faster. He had never seen anything like it, except maybe in movies. It was complete carnage. His co-workers were torn to shreds without any effort on the creature’s part. When those things were revealed to the world, he wasn’t sure he wanted to believe it, but he certainly does now. And now he wishes he didn’t know about them.

Randall can see the company vehicles just up ahead. He entertains the thought of taking one, but he doesn’t have the keys. Hotwiring I out of the question, it is a skill he never cared to learn and besides, he probably wouldn’t have time to do it anyway. So he aims for the gate, like he originally planned to do. But even that isn’t going to work. Randall comes to a sudden halt, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. There, before him is a group of military dressed men that round the corner of a building to block his only chance for escape.

He turns, expecting to see the creature, but it isn’t there. Nothing is there. Nobody is behind him. So he runs. He runs opposite those soldiers. Gun fire erupts behind him, kicking up the dirt in the spot he was just at. His breathing is now beginning to labor, yet he isn’t willing to just give up and die. He has three kids and a loving wife that depend on his survival, on him. As he rounds the corner of the next building, a hand comes across his throat. Randall’s feet slide from under him and he goes down hard. His hands reflexively slip to his neck. The pain is intense. There is so much blood. His blood. The creature stands over the man, glaring into his dimming eyes. But before the man can gurgle a response, and before the life can completely drain from his useless body, the man’s head is ripped from his body.

Several minutes later, the Nevada desert is lit up against the dark, starless night.

Sam takes a quick look past the curtain before slipping in the restroom. “Don’t turn around,” she says playfully to Spencer.

It wasn’t too hard for her to convince her partner to have a little meeting in the small restroom aboard the flight. When Spencer was reluctant, she reminded him of their first time in a plane. It helped ease any fear of getting caught and convinced him that it could be fun.

Samantha runs her hand down his back, gently following the shape of the muscles from his shoulders, stroking along his spine and moving down and over to end at his hip. Spencer for his part remains still, watching her in the mirror. “I hope the attendant doesn’t catch us,” he murmurs.

Sam smiles and catches his glance in the reflection. “Well, if she does...” her hands move to his front, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. “ ... then she’s going to be in for a show.” She slides his pants and boxers down. Spencer has a sharp intake of air when she reaches under to caress his balls with a hand.

“Fuck, the feels good,” Spencer says after a few moments under her ministrations. At this, Sam reaches in with the other hand. Now using both, she fondles both his balls and growing erection.

Through his shirt, Sam kisses his back. Her hands maneuver across his groin expertly, rolling his balls back and forth, stroking his length up and down. And when he is ready to turn around, to move it along and get to the really good part, she presses closer, preventing him from doing so. “We’ve got time, Spencer,” she says softly in his ear. “The attendant won’t think twice about us being gone.” She then shifts and moves her hand more rapidly along his shaft, twisting her hand just a bit at the tip each time. This of course, is driving him crazy. Sam knows this too, so she simply increases her speed until his breathing hitches in the familiar way that tells her that he is close. She is working Spencer in a way that isn’t going to fully get him off, but enough to keep him on edge—close but unreachable.

Finally releasing him, she says, “Okay, I probably have teased you enough...”

Spencer abruptly does a one eighty and pushes her against the door. The shock of his sudden movement makes Sam squeak and the door creak against the latch. His mouth covers hers. With a little effort, considering the amount of room they have, they quickly get enough of her undressed to further their game. And very quickly it is Sam who is gasping when he slides a finger through her nether lips and inside.

“You’re wet,” he growls. Then he adds a second digit and kisses her hard, pushing his tongue into her mouth with a rhythm that matches his fingers pushing into her, rubbing his hand along her clit. Sam makes a needy sound and rocks against his hand, seeking more pressure from his palm. The door creaks more, the latch clacking louder. “Not yet,” he says. And with a little more effort and maneuvering, they rolls around until Sam is sitting partially on the tiny sink.

She feels his erection trapped between her thighs and squirms against it, trying to tease him a little more while they continue their kiss. Reaching down, Spencer grips himself and slides it upward a little to ensure that he is tucked between her fold to ride along them and her clit. Then he presses in closer. Samantha gasps when he starts moving, thrusting back and forth, allowing his cock to drag through her folds and against her clit with every movement. Spencer feels her hands grip his shoulders and her breath panting against his neck.

Shifting his body, Sam responds eagerly, opening one leg up his thigh. The angle is just perfect, making it possible for him to enter her while she sits against the mirror. Spencer bends his legs enough to slide the tip of his hard prick against her entrance. And then with one hard thrust, he enters her, swallowing her moan with another deep kiss. He holds himself buried deep inside her, waiting to hear the flight attendant knocking at the door. But the knock never comes.

Sam breaks the kiss. “Fuck me, Spence,” she whispers, moving her leg higher on his hip, grinding against him. Spencer grins and starts moving in and out of his partner slowly. She closes her eyes, breathing harder. “Fuck me.” He moves a little faster, a little harder. “Please fuck me hard.”

After being worried about being caught, Spencer releases that anxiety and finally gives in to what they both want and thrusts into her hard and fast. They buck against each other, building toward release until his long, drawn out groan of orgasm finally pushes Sam over the edge into a shared climax. Spencer feels her fingers digging into his skin through her shirt as she holds him tight, muscles contracting around him in waves and drawing out his own orgasm while he continues to capture her moans with his kiss.

It isn’t until there is that knock at the door do they realize that it is time to pull apart from one another. “Uh, almost done,” Sam calls out. She looks at Spencer, trying to hold a serious look in her eyes, but failing miserably. She giggles and that in turn cause him to laugh. Then as quickly and as silently as they can without revealing what they have been doing, they dress.

The remainder of the flight is uneventful. The in-flight movie was an ironic one, considering where they are headed. It involved Russia invading America. A young group of kids band together, forming a squad to fight the invaders. They arrive at Sheremetyevo Airport in Moscow. Their liaison is already waiting for them, dressed in civilian clothes. Spencer sees her first, recognizing her from the photo in the packet. She looks somewhat familiar, more so in person than the picture, but he cannot really put a finger on it.