Caravan moved slowly over scorching sand. It was hard to believe that parched up scenery had been sinking, slippery mud just few weeks ago. Now the surface of the road was dry and cracked, and heavy trucks created a formidable dust cloud around them.
He gazed his passenger and slight smile tugged the corner of his mouth. Marie was sleeping, curled to the passenger’s seat. This was her truck. They had taken all the parts they could salvage from the wreck of his truck and left it behind. They were better off riding together, and Marie’s truck had been far better condition than his. It had taken a week to catch up with the caravan. Marie had been driving during days, Logan had taken the wheel when sun set. It was safer during the daytime, not so many bandits dared to try to attack in plain sight. During few brief stops they had made Logan had installed weapons he had stripped from his truck, and now Marie’s truck posed a formidable threat to anything imaginable, armed with two pulse cannons, two machineguns and five flamethrowers.
Marie was slowly mastering the firepower, but it was her skills in driving that Logan admired the most. She handled the truck with ease born from several years of experience. It was hard to believe she had been insecure and stumbling kid when he had first laid his eyes on her. Now she attended the daily chores and responded to friendly banter from their travel buddies with her own sharp remarks, keeping them on their toes.
Their relationship was a constant source of guessing and rumors among the caravan. They traveled together and shared a room when caravan stopped to settlement. When they were on the road, they both slept in the truck. Both were more than possessive about each other, yet there seemed to be no bigger connection between them. They were buddies.
Slight change in Marie’s scent alerted him from his thoughts. He shifted on his seat and opened the window. Air conditioning wasn’t efficient enough to sweep out the unmistakable trace of her arousal. It was kind of awkward.
It had started couple of days ago, when they caught up with the caravan. He had been driving. Stench of dust and fuel had clogged up his nostrils, but suddenly a new scent had broken through. A new, yet something he remembered from the past. Salty musk tinged with vanilla and peppermint. She had been moaning slightly in her sleep, and Logan had opted to wake her up.
“Looked like you were having a nightmare…” He lied through his teeth when Marie had asked why had he woken her up. Next night it had happened again.
It started to affect him. Twenty years he had spent in relatively solitude, in celibate for the fear of what would happen if he allowed himself to feel anything remotely sexual hadn’t been a struggle, but now he had to restrain himself from testing what would happen if he let go. Dust that coated his sinuses wasn’t thick enough to filter off her scent, and wind had died. Air was standing still. Caravan was practically crawling along, so the breeze created by movement was only marginal.
“Thank God…” Logan groaned when first faint traces of light crept over the horizon. Time to wake her up and get some sleep. During the day caravan would pick up the speed. Hopefully they would be at the settlement before evening. This time he wasn’t as sure as hell to book only a one room for himself and Marie. No. Two rooms. Maybe she would take the hint and make a move to the guy she was lusting after. Had to be somebody from the caravan. After that he could go and gut the guy for touching her. Or maybe not. She had the right to choose.
“Wake up.” He shook her little more gruffly than he first intended to. She came out of her dream with a startled gasp.
“What is it?” She asked, head swiveling from side to side, taking in the scenery around them.
“Your turn to drive,” Logan grunted.
“Can we stop for a while? I need to stretch my legs…” Marie muttered yawning.
“Just for couple of minutes.”
He watched her from the corner of his eye, feigning to sleep. She had popped briefly behind the truck, probably to pee. Now she was walking, stretching her back and legs. She stopped and bent over from her waist, grabbing her ankles, and he could hear soft growl coming from her. She wasn’t used to sit still day after day. It showed.
“Drag your ass back in! We have to catch up with the caravan!” Logan shouted through the open window. Marie stuck her tongue out and eyed the driver’s seat with distaste. It would be still warm. Leather would be soft and sticky. She could feel the heat from his palms under hers, soaked to the steering wheel. In a weird way it reminded her of like they were using the same toothbrush, or something.
“I’ll ask them to pick up the pace a bit. I want to sleep in a real bed for a change…” Logan muttered, picking up the microphone and clicking the tangent twice, to alert other vehicles in the caravan.
“This is Wolverine calling. Step on it. Rogue’s getting tired of sucking your exhaust. So am I,” he growled.
“Copy that, Wolverine. Move to the front,” answer came through. They both glared at the receiver.
“And leave your tail unguarded? Don’t think so. Pick up the pace,” Logan answered.
“Copy that.”
“Copy my ass…” Logan muttered, cut the connection and placed the microphone carefully back on its cradle, resisting the urge to rip it off and throw out.
“Fucking sheep… What do you say if we ditch them after the next fight?” He asked from Marie. She threw a surprised glance towards him.
“Not for good. Just take a couple of days vacation,” he hurriedly explained.
“Is this one of those moments you need to be alone?” Marie asked.
“Yeah. Can take this shit no more for some reason. Usually takes much longer to get this fed up…”
“I could hitch a ride from Scott. Would that help?” Marie proposed. Scott was driving one of the transporters. He was the handyman of the fight crew. Kept everything working. Logan threw a sharp, sidelong glance towards Marie. Scott? Scott? Was it him?
“I guess you could. But it’s not you that’s bothering me. Feels like these people are getting dumber after every day.”
“Well, if you don’t mind, I would rather stick with you than ask a ride from those morons. I have seen how couple of them keep eyeing me. Gives me the creeps…” Marie said, slight shiver running over her frame.
“I have seen it, too. Don’t worry about it, they know better than to hassle with you…”
Logan knew it for sure. From the moment she had appeared, escorted by him, she had been marked. Property of Wolverine. It was ridiculous if you thought about it. During all these years he had been tagging along with these people, there hadn’t been any rumors. Not hushed jokes or meaningful slaps to the back after a long night in a bar, or after a fight when groupies cornered them. Nobody even expected him to take part of the raunchy parties or even orgies the crew was infamous of. He was the Wolverine, big and mean machine with blood on his hands and yet he lived like a monk, but as soon as people had set their eyes on Marie standing next to him he had seen the shift in their minds. From Buddhist monk to master of his slave. He didn’t mind as long as it kept her safe, but rumors were getting louder after every day, and it was harder to keep Marie from hearing them. She wouldn’t be too pleased when she found out why people kept their distance.
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