Awakening The Warriors Read Online Free PDF Page A

later.”
    They both looked at me. Quain slipped his hand lower to cup the cheeks of my backside, pulling me closer. Without conscious thought, I instinctively obeyed, stepping into his embrace, allowing his leg to nestle between mine. My muscles evaporated like steam on a hot night when Jerrell rubbed the hardness of his half-aroused sex against both my bottom and Quain’s hand. Edgy need pricked over my skin. If we disappeared for a few minutes would anyone notice?
    Someone cleared their throat and a couple of women giggled. The sounds brought me to my senses. I planted my hands on Quain’s chest, trying not to think about how good his skin felt beneath my touch, and using it as leverage, hopped about until I was no longer entwined with his and Jerrell’s bodies. Before they could grab me, I skipped out of their reach, aware by the sparkle in Jerrell’s eyes and the tautness of Quain’s face that my erratic breathing had portrayed my foolish thoughts.
    Quain smiled, a surprisingly sweet and tender smile, and my heart flopped about like a fish out of water. “There will be time for many joinings later.” The heat left his face as he swept his gaze over everyone again. “Once we leave the confines of these walls, there is a large courtyard we need to traverse. The Elites have sniper towers and will be relentless in obstructing our escape, for their punishment will be severe. We will move fast. Should you fall behind, you will be left behind.”
    He strode to the centre of the room; his voice, as compelling as any messiah’s, continued, “If you wish to live, you must be prepared to fight for your life. Any who can fire a weapon, step forward.”
    Four paces and I reached his side. When our eyes met, the grim line of his mouth quirked into a tiny smile. “You surprise me.”
    â€œI’ve never held a gun in my life but I’m more than prepared to do so now. Give me a weapon,” I said.
    Quain gestured with his hand to Jerrell, who led me off to the side and handed me a plitza gun, a smaller and lighter weapon than the fulon. My tutelage was brief and to the point; he was all business now. As soon as those who had volunteered were armed, Quain briefed us again as to the necessity of haste. He also verbalised a rough map of where we were situated in terms of the nearby runway and space-shuttle hangers should anyone become separated.
    Then we were filing into a line with Quain at the head, several armed men close behind him and Jerrell at the last. As before I lingered near the end of the line, but this time I held Margaret’s hand in my left and a primed gun in my right.
    â€œI’m scared,” Margaret said, gripping me as if I was her only lifeline.
    â€œMe too, but remember whatever happens, don’t stop. Don’t look back. Keep your eyes fixed on Quain and keep running.”
    Her eyes brimming with tears and yet filled with trust as she looked at me, Margaret nodded. I vowed then and there, I’d save her.
    The line moved. Down another passageway. With each step we took, our pace increased until we ran, our legs moving as fast as fleeing horses. Ahead the passageways brightened into the yellow gleam of daylight and our flight sent a blur of shadows flashing over the walls. Soon we would enter the processing room. Too late to think of another plan. Too late to wonder whether we should have done anything different.
    The next moment, the crack of shots was heard and the noise quickly tangled with return fire. Our armed men must have reached the courtyard. The group surged forward, crying, shouting, some holding hands. The air resounded with the noise of battle, so loud and confused, I could feel the demon of panic demanding to be let loose inside my mind.
    Like an out of control stampede, the mob of people continued to pour into the processing room and scuffle outside into the courtyard. Three women and a man in front of Margaret and me