Chapter Sixteen: We Smell Like Food, Paleface

Frankie was confused and Frankie did not handle confusion well. As a matter of fact confusion pissed her off completely. It made her angrier than a riled up bull at branding. For so long all she had ever wanted or needed out of life was the simple freedom of riding the plains with her uncle. Learning everything she could from the man from poker lessons to weapons. He had been her everything but he was gone now......

What was she supposed to do now? How did she move on without her Uncle Gibbs? Where would she go? She couldn't go back to that cabin, not without him there, and that had been the only home she'd ever truly known.

She supposed she could wander and simply be a nomad as she waited for this sickness to end and searched for a place that would somewhat resemble what had once been normal....

She felt so empty inside.... She just wanted to forget for even a few minutes that all of this was real. She wanted to pretend that life was still the way it always was. There were no monsters. No one she loved was dead. Mothers weren't abandoning their children to bloodthirsty monsters. And she wasn't' ordering crazy injuns to feed said mother to her children as a form of payback.

She thought of Comanche in the next room and knew that he could help her forget a while. She knew he wanted her and she wanted him too.... Despite her sadness her body hungered for him. Would it be so bad to give in? She had had men before. A good roll between the sheets often helped to clear her mind and relieve stress. Comanche was certainly a desirable man and she had a feeling that being with him would be something memorable.

And it would certainly be enough to make her forget, even if just for a while, the terror that was going on in the world around them. Her mind made up, Frankie went to the window and pulled back the blanket they'd used to block the candlelight from being seen outside. The night was dark and clear and Frankie couldn't see any rabid. There hadn't been more than a couple the entire time they'd been here and for that Frankie was grateful.

She let the blanket fall back across the window and walked to the closed bedroom door. She wasn't nervous about bedding Comanche. She just hoped he wouldn't say no since she truly needed the distraction that his body would provide.

Slowly she opened the door and stepped out into the sitting room, frowning when she realized that Comanche was no longer sitting in the arm chair. As a matter of fact she couldn't see him anywhere in the cabin. She walked quietly, her boots falling silently on the wooden floor boards as she made her way to the kitchen and realized he wasn't there either.

Where was that damn injun? Frankie hated to admit that she was a little concerned about him. She didn't want to care whether he was okay or not. She had cared about Uncle Gibbs and had had her heart ripped out because of it. She didn't want to care about anyone else.

"Gnaaaaa....." Frankie heard the long mournful sound come from outside the cabin and her heart froze. Was Comanche outside with a rabid? There was no other place that injun could be...... Damn his copper skinned hide!

Either way, Frankie knew that the rabid needed to die. Leaving one alive would only spread the disease. Frankie glanced around the room for a weapon that would be quiet and not attract any more of those damn rabid. They seemed to be more active at night anyhow without drawing them with noise.

She grabbed the iron fire poker and then went to the door, realizing it was unlocked, she opened it and stepped out into the night, her eyes peeled for the rabid she could hear moaning. Frankie saw it stumbling around, walking in a slow circle around the bush out in the yard.

Frankie whistled and the rabid's head snapped around, his cloudy gray eyes landing on her. Blood dripped from his chin and it was clear he had fed recently as his shirt was slick with the redness.

Comanche? Had this bastard gotten the indian the same way those others had gotten Uncle Gibbs? Frankie hated these rabid! Kill. Kill. Kill. That's all they did. They took everything that mattered and they gutted, ripped and chewed until it was gone.

Frankie wanted them gone!

Letting out a scream that was more that of a primal animal than a human being, Frankie ran for the rabid, raising the fire poker as her legs carried her across the dusty ground. The rabid let out a wet hiss and began to shriek as she neared it but she silenced its terrible cries with a swing of that fire poker.

The cracking thud sent the rabid to the ground and while Frankie knew it was dead, it wasn't enough. She wasn't satisfied. She went down with it, straddling its body, before stabbing it over and over and over again through the face and forehead.

The rabid's head became nothing but a pile of unrecognizable mush. Her arms began to ache from the effort she was putting forth and her thrusts became less and less intense. Frankie's shoulders began to burn and throb and finally she could no longer lift the poker.

She sat there, straddling the dead rabid's body, her head hung low and her dark hair falling across her blood splattered face. She was too tired to move. Too tired to think. Uncle Gibbs was gone. Comanche was gone. All she had left in the world was herself.

Then she heard the moans. They were excited moans, hungry moans. Moans of rabid who smelled blood in the air and were eager to have a taste of it themselves.

Frankie lifted her head and saw them, at least a dozen, seeming to materialize out of nothing. Coming out of the trees like shadows and staggering quickly toward her on stiff legs. Frankie went for her gun but then realized that she'd left it inside......

She rose to her feet but couldn't lift the heavy iron poker..... Staggering backward, Frankie knew her only hope was to reach the cabin. She tried to turn and tripped over the dead rabid's foot.

Frankie knew it then... She was going to die. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the pain she knew she would feel as the rabid tore into her body but instead something entirely different happened.....

"Ai! Ai! Ai! Ai!" A battle cry pierced the air and a lean copper body suddenly flew through the night air, buckskin wrapped feet landing with a thud in front of Frankie, coming between she and the advancing rabid.

Arrows were suddenly flying. Filling the night with a whizzing sound as they pierced the night air and sunk themselves inside the foreheads of the rabid.

Frankie's eyes widened when she realized it was Comanche. He was alive! And he had just killed five rabid in less than a minute. The remaining five were too close for Comanche to use his bow and Frankie watched him pull the long bowie knife from the strap on his leg.

"Are you harmed?" he asked before swinging out and dropping another rabid. Frankie found her strength again and shook her head as she swung her poker at another, caving in the young boy's forehead.

"No. I ain't hurt."

Comanche gave her a look that was full of concern and then he pulled his gun and quickly killed the remaining rabid. Frankie turned quickly and headed back to the cabin, embarrassed by what had just happened.

Yet again, Comanche had had to save her life. Frankie had never been the type of woman to be overcome by emotions and put herself in situations where she needed to be saved by a man. Frankie had always taken care of herself! What was wrong with her lately?

***

"What were you thinking?!" Comanche demanded calmly as he closed and locked the cabin door, securing it in place by placing a board through the slats on either side. What he wanted to do was beat some sense into her stubborn head, though he suspected that would probably not go over well.

He had been doing a security check along the river when he had heard her scream of rage and he had come running.... The sight of her looking so defeated, so broken as those rabid had gotten closer and closer had caused his blood to run cold.

He glanced over at Frankie and saw her standing there with her fists clenched angrily before he turned away from her and added another log to the fire, waiting for her to speak.

"I was thinking that I was killing a rabid." Frankie finally snapped.

Comanche shook his head sadly and turned to face her. Her face and clothing were splattered with blood. Her dark hair was a tangled mess as it fell over her shoulders and across her face. She looked so broken that it made Comanche's heart cry out for her. "Frankie, I know you are upset about your uncle. I know that losing those you love hurts. And I know that this world is a mean and ugly place but suicide is not the answer to that."

Frankie's dark eyes flashed with temper just as he knew they would. "Don't pretend that you know how I feel, Comanche. What do you know? You yourself said you haven't lost anyone!"

"I lost everyone!" Comanche roared, his temper flaring to life. Stress, fatigue and worry all proving to be too much and causing him to reach his own breaking point. "Not to these flesh eaters but many many years ago when the white men road in on their horses thundering hooves and took my entire family away! Slaughtering my father and the other braves. Raping and mutilating all the women including my mother and sisters. Taking me and several other young boys prisoner and then separating us so we never saw one another again. I was eight! And I was a prisoner. Tortured, broken and then trained. Taught how to act, how to speak, how to be civilized like my new family. Do not speak to me as if I don't know about loss, Frankie! I know exactly what loss feels like because I have lived it but making foolish choices that will end with you dead will not solve anything and will only serve to hurt those who care about you!"

They stared at each other for several long moments. Comanche could see the glowing flames of the firelight dancing in her brown eyes. He knew he shouldn't have said all of that but it was too late to take it back now. He wondered what was going on inside that mind and then she took a step away and shook her head.

"I can't do this.... " she whispered with disgust and then she turned on her heel and went back into the room she'd spent so much time in lately, closing the door behind her. Comanche stood and stared at the door and then he heard her sob and growled under his breath.

Damn her! This was enough. He knew she needed time to mourn but time was a luxury that they simply didn't have anymore. Four days was plenty long enough and all she was going to get. The flesh eaters were coming... the small group tonight proved that. Comanche knew that the longer they were here the more they would be drawn. It was almost as if they could smell the living and they were drawn to them.

It was time for Frankie to once again become that strong woman he'd met on that rooftop and it was time that the two of them left here together and stayed alive... stayed ahead of the danger.

Comanche strode to the door and threw it open. Frankie gasped and turned to face him, swiping her sleeves across her face roughly. Comanche closed the distance between them and then grabbed her arm gently and forced her to sit on the edge of the bed.

He was surprised when she did without a fight and he quickly wet a rag in the wash basin and began cleansing the blood from her face gently.

"We cannot remain in this cabin any longer, Frankie. I know you're hurting but we must move on."

"We?"

"Yes." Comanche replied. "One person alone is vulnerable. Two is better seeing as they can help protect one another."

Comanche slid the rag along her jaw and wished it could be his fingertips instead of the rough cotton cleaning her skin.

"I want to feel better, Comanche.... I think you can help me." Frankie's voice was confident and the sudden assurance he heard in it caused Comanche's hand to still as he looked into her eyes.

"What do you need?" he asked, knowing he would do anything for her. He wasn't sure why he cared so much for her so quickly but he was a smart enough man to know better than to deny it.

Frankie laid her hand over his and stilled his movements as their eyes locked. "To forget a while."

"I think I can do that." Comanche replied, surprised by the trembling in his hand.

"I ain't looking for settling down, Comanche." Frankie warned.

"Whatever you say." Comanche replied as he stood straight and slid from his buckskin shirt, letting the fabric fall to the floor. He saw Frankie's eyes roam over his body in the candlelight and instantly his body hardened and tightened.

"I'm serious now, Comanche. I ain't lookin' to be tied down."

"I'm fresh outta rope."

***

Frankie knew this was wrong. She could tell by the look in Comanche's eyes when he looked at her that this meant more to him than it did to her. It wasn't like Frankie to take advantage of anyone but dammit she needed Comanche to make her forget and if that meant taking advantage of him than that is what she would do.

Frankie let Comanche take her hand and pull her to her feet. His big calloused hands were hot and hungry as they quickly removed her from her shirt. Frankie heard Comanche's sharp intake of breath as the man realized she wore nothing beneath it.

"Come on, Comanche... You talked a big game up on that rooftop about how wild you are... Prove it." Frankie challenged. She saw the flash in Comanche's dark eyes and then the man was on her.

His hungry lips devoured her own, his tongue delving into her mouth and battling her own tongue for dominance. It was a battle that neither tongue seemed able to win and yet neither wanted to end.

Comanche moaned against her mouth as Frankie's hands quickly undid the button on his buckskin pants and slid them down his legs. Comanche broke contact with her long enough to slide off his boots and pants. Frankie's eyes widened at the sight of him standing there. He certainly looked every inch the wild indian as his chest rose and fell rapidly his tight jaw twitched. Her gaze fell lower and took in the sight of that long, thick throbbing piece of him that was all masculine male. Frankie felt herself trembling with anticipation as wetness slicked her thighs and she felt that pulsing heat and longing deep in her core. God she needed this.

Before she could speak Comanche was sweeping her into his arms yet again.

Frankie had planned on being in control of their joining. She hadn't planned on simply giving in to the indian and following his lead, but that is exactly what she found happening as he guided her to the bed and tossed her down.

Frankie felt out of control and overheated as Comanche pulled off her boots and then slid her out of her pants. She saw his eyes rove over her and then she gasped and buried her hands in his thick dark hair as his mouth wen to her chest and his lips suckled at one of her tight nipples. He pulled the hard peak into his mouth, nibbling at it hungrily while his hand closed around her other tiny breast, kneading and caressing until Frankie could no longer breathe.

Comanche knee pushed her legs apart and Frankie eagerly wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles behind his back. Comanche's lips trailed up her chest, his tongue darting out and lapping at the tender skin behind her ear.

Frankie had lain with her share of men but none of those had ever filled her as perfectly and completely as Comanche filled her when he slid his large manhood deep inside of her. Frankie clung to him, certain that she could never feel better..... She was certain of that fact until the man began to move.

Their eyes met and Frankie saw the depth of what Comanche was feeling as he stared down at her and she cursed under her breath. Tenderness was not what she wanted! She wanted hot! She wanted hungry! She wanted to forget!

Letting out a growl, Frankie tightened her legs around Comanche and then shifted her weight and flipped the man onto his back.

"I thought you were a wild one, injun?" she asked with a grin as Comanche stared up at her with shock. Then his dark eyes narrowed and his big hands gripped her waist, his fingers nearly connecting as they circled her.

"Are you wanting to prove you're wilder, paleface?" Frankie raised her hips, nearly sliding him completely out of her before slamming herself back down and causing his fingers to tighten, his grip almost painful on her as his eyes slid closed and he groaned loudly.

"Oh I'm wild, Comanche."

His eyes opened and he returned the wicked grin that she had given to him. "Prove it."

Frankie felt as if her body was going to self-combust as she rode Comanche as quickly and as roughly as she could. She felt herself rising higher and higher and knew that she was reaching her release.

She knew that Comanche was nearing his as well as his groans became louder and his hips thrust upward to meet hers.

Frankie felt that tightening band of pleasure snap and she cried out as she tumbled over the edge, feeling Comanche tense in that same moment, her name slipping from his lips as he shuddered deep inside of her.

Frankie laid her head against his sweat slicked chest and listened to his heart thundering beneath her. His beating heart lulled her sated and satisfied body into peaceful relaxation and before she had even realized it was going to happen Frankie drifted off to sleep.

***

Comanche wrapped her tightly in his arms, knowing his body had never felt as satisfied as it felt in this moment. Any doubt he may have had about her importance to him and her being the one true mate his father had always told him that he would find, was gone.

Frankie was all he wanted and all he needed and he would do anything, take on anything this world had to throw at them, to keep her safe.

He knew she'd put up a fight.. She seemed stubborn that way, but Comanche didn't care. He'd certainly faced tougher opponents than Frankie in his life and he was still going strong. He would win the battle with her as well.

***

Frankie was peaceful as the sun shone on her face, letting her know it was morning. For the first time in as long as she could remember she felt no fear as she began to awaken and then that reprieve quickly ended when she heard the terrible gurgling moan, followed by a wet thud and a grunt that she recognized.... Comanche!

Frankie jumped to her feet, scooped his buckskin shirt off the floor and slid it on, the stained fabric falling nearly to her knees. She grabbed her gun and ran out of the bedroom. The cabin door was open and she saw Comanche currently locked in a battle with a group of rabid.

She did a quick count and realized there were at least ten of them and he was fighting them with nothing but a shovel.

Frankie fired a quick shot into the forehead of a rabid that had been inches from biting into Comanche's shoulder. The indian nodded his thanks and then swung the shovel, taking out another rabid.

Frankie and Comanche took out the rabid quickly and then Frankie threw her hands in the air.

"What the hell, Comanche!? All these days here with almost nothing and now we've had two big groups of rabid in less than twelve hours?! What is going on?"

"They can smell us, Frankie. I think for the most part these groups just wander but if they catch a whiff they are drawn to it."

"Smell us?" Frankie demanded. "I know they are drawn to fire and loud noise but...."

"We smell like food, paleface."

Frankie swallowed hard as she realized Comanche was right. "Well then we need to get the hell out of here."

"We?" Comanche asked with the raise of an arched brow. "You want me to come with you?"

Frankie shifted her feet and then shrugged. "Sure. Last night was the best night of sleep I've had in a while and I might want to forget again."

Truth be told, she wasn't in any hurry to be alone again. She was realizing that having someone else around that was able bodied and strong wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Comanche studied her for a moment and then a smile split his face. "Well let's go then." He urged.

Frankie trembled as she felt his eyes roaming down her legs as they walked back into the cabin. "Like what you see?" she asked.

"Yes I do. That shirt seems to look better on you than it ever did me."

"I would have to agree." Frankie replied with a wink. "It feels good too."

"Keep it then." Comanche urged. "I don't much like wearing a shirt anyhow."

"Well at least one thing will certainly improve now that I'm riding with you." Frankie stated as she pulled on her pants and tucked the buckskin shirt into them. Comanche tilted his head and scratched at his hair.

"What's that?"

Frankie let her eyes go over the broad planes of his smooth chest and the tight muscles in his stomach. She licked her lips, remembering the way that body had felt pressed against her own the night before. Frankie's eyes went back to Comanche's and she smiled. "The scenery."