A Murder - A Maker Pt. 02

It was massive. Boxes similar to the one I now hid against were stacked upon pallets in various places across the slate-gray concrete floor, usually within the boundaries of lines that had been painted to indicate different zones, though I was too far away to read the accompanying text on any of them. The train was halted on the rails that intruded on the far side of the room, the doors to the freight compartments open as around forty prisoners, many of them not from the group I was familiar with, operated the sleighs that hovered nearby to gradually empty the supplies from within the train. Four guards oversaw the work, stationed near the prisoners but further back in the room, all facing away from me. Another man was with them that I did not recognize, marked with the same color scheme as the guards but wearing some sort of coveralls instead, with a tool belt slung around his hips. Tasked with running the train, I reasoned, and squinted in an effort to pick Riss out from the others.

There were only a few women among the prisoners, though each of them had harsher features than I was used to. After scanning the crowd for a time I realized most of the additional faces were likely from those caught committing more serious crimes. I also noticed, finally, where Riss was occupied helping ferry a series of crates away from the freight car immediately behind the train's front compartment. There was no easy way to join that side of the throng, but enough supplies were stacked up along the wall near the back of train that I thought I might be able to slip in with the other prisoners there, then pick my way across to her.

I gingerly made my way across the back of the room, freezing and waiting any time a guard or prisoner began to pay much attention to anything but the train. Service had given me considerable experience moving quietly and unobtrusively, but outright stealth was an entirely different manner, and at every moment I dreaded a hand clapping down on my shoulder to spin me around.

Despite my fears, I made it to a row of crates being added to and pressed myself behind it without incident. Listening to the sound of a few prisoners unloading the last of the crates on their sleigh, I took a deep breath and slipped around the corner, quickly stepping across to them as they made their way back to the train.

Just like that, I was in a sea of shoulders and faces as people toiled around me. I started edging my way through the crowd, trying my best not to get in anyone's way, but had scarcely made it the length of one car before I was halted.

"Hey, you!" a gravelly voice somewhere behind me demanded, and I instinctively knew I was his target. I froze, hesitated, and reluctantly turned around. A tall man with features harsh enough to be unnerving stood regarding me, while a few other prisoners worked nearby.

"You think you can just walk around without doing any work?" he demanded, glowering. "Everyone else is sweating it out. Get your ass over here and help unload this skiff."

I opened my mouth, hands raised defensively. "I was just... Delivering something," I lied unenthusiastically. "My group's up near the front and I was going back to help them."

"Yeah, and now you're here," he said. "So pitch in, already." By now the others near him had stopped to regard me, and I wilted under the scrutiny. They looked like they could use a hand, I supposed, and the last thing I wanted was anything to draw undue attention from the guards.

"Sure," I agreed, shoulders slumping, and made my way over. The crates were absurdly heavy, or so it seemed, and I was quickly assigned the task of keeping the sleigh on course and minimizing the trips others had to make. Though it felt like a clock slowly counted its way down in the back of my mind, the sudden change of priorities to a simple responsibility with no dire consequences became a relief. Our small band of prisoners eventually had unloaded each of the crates on the sleigh, and as we turned back to the train I began examining my route through the crowd of prisoners once more. When the others moved inside the compartment to secure more crates, I slipped away and resumed my trek. There were no other complications on the way, and once I neared the front of the train Riss caught sight of me and beckoned me closer with a jerk of her head. When I was close she shoved some of the stack of small boxes she was ferrying into my arms, frowned in concern, and asked,

"Jesus Christ, Min. What happened to your face?"

"Is it bad?" I asked, wincing. "I just... There was a guard. It's okay."

She considered me, shook her head, and dropped the stack of boxes in a marked area before straightening. She glanced to the nearest guard - only about ten paces away, but obviously disinterested in us - before quietly explaining,

"Once this is done, they do a sweep of each compartment to make sure there aren't any stowaways, but we're gonna tuck ourselves into the pilot car and we should be fine. The only other thing we'll need to deal with is the tracking chips in our cuffs, once they realize something is wrong. Did you manage to grab a key?"

I grinned proudly, slipping the small cylindrical rod from between the pad of my left palm and the glove over it and flashing the object to her.

"Good work," she immediately said, triggering a burst of satisfaction within me. She took the key and turned back, leading me onto the train compartment we and a few others were unloading. These, I recognized, and I felt a twinge of guilt as Tren shot me a grin before turning away with an armful of equipment to ferry outside. After he left, the two of us were alone with the boxes.

"Here," Riss murmured. I turned around to look at her again, eyes widening at what I saw. She was crouched beside one of the larger crates in the train, a sleek silver tool with a narrow blade in one hand, and she gradually teased open the edge of the container. Pulling the lip up by a few inches, she wedged the tool in place to hold it open, then produced the key and slid it into a hole on one of her manacles.

"Is that a multi-tool?" I asked, dumbfounded. "Where did you get one?"

She shrugged, though the satisfaction permeating her figure was palpable. "Snatched it from a guard the day I nearly bit through his cock," she casually said, snapping the cuff open and nudging it through the gap, to fall into the crate. Unlocking the restraint on her other hand, she continued, "Everyone was too angry or shocked to frisk me when they came running after the screams, and he wasn't in a state to notice. Tore some of the stitching on the inside of my suit to make a little pocket for it. Gimme your hands."

Obediently, I proffered my wrists and waited as she unlocked the cuffs, fighting past the fleeting desire to be bound and led by her, as impractical as that was.

"That's..." I hesitated, watching her make my shackles disappear into the crate. "Resourceful. I can't believe you've held onto it for so long without doing anything."

"I take my chances wisely," she replied, shooting me a grin. "Alright. Here's-" She cut off, then, turning to yank the multi-tool out of place and snap the lid back in line. A moment later Tren returned with a couple other prisoners from our dormitory. I held my breath, hands lowering to hide my wrists behind a stack of cargo.

"You girls chatting in here while we do all the work?" he asked, pairing a disarming grin with the accusation, already loading an empty sleigh with crates.

"Yeah, you know us, sorry," Riss said, smiling helplessly. "When they finally sent Min down here I couldn't help prying about what happened to her face. I'll give you a hand now, though."

"Collin," I exhaled with a nod. I had meant to say the name lightly, but my stomach churned with the minimal explanation and Tren caught the change in my demeanor. Waving a hand dismissively, he said,

"It's no pain for us. We've all got it easy today, with these light things. Just don't have any of the guards noticing or you'll be even deeper in their bad books, Riss, yeah?"

"Sure. Thanks, Tren," Riss replied comfortably, turning to regard me anew. When the others had left again, she let out a tense breath, the first indication I even had that she hadn't been utterly comfortable.

"Shit," she said, squinting outside. "Okay. Here's what we're gonna do now, Min. Follow me."

I wanted to say I'd rather know the plan before acting on it, but she left me no time. I sprang forward as she left the compartment, in time to see her descend the ramp from train to floor, then twist around its edge and lithely drop through the narrow space between them, landing on the lowered platform the rails were built on. I froze, staring. She glanced up, noticed my hesitation, and impatiently waved me after her. My eyes broke upward, scanning over the prisoners and guards. No one seemed to be paying undue attention.

Taking a few breaths, I clenched my stomach and stepped forward, dropping off the ramp and scrambling down through the narrow gap, caught momentarily between the steel and concrete, then wriggling past with a pained grunt. The space opened up somewhat once you were through entirely, and I sucked in a deep breath before squinting ahead for where Riss had gone. She was crouched a few paces ahead of me, nestled between the first and second cars of the train, multi-tool in hand as she tinkered with a panel of some kind. I inched forward after her, trying to keep my breathing steady, unable to stop thinking about how easy it would be for the thousands of pounds of metal hovering just overhead to crush us both, if the power were to fail.

"Riss, are you sure you know what you're doing with all this?" I whispered, crawling to the spot next to her, where it opened up enough for me to crouch.

"It's gonna be fine, Min," she whispered back. "Now keep quiet." The panel she was working on was situated above the coils that kept the train floating, I saw, and after prying the last bolts out she slid the panel out along a joint on its top. Nodding into the dark gap beyond, she cajoled,

"You first. I'll be right behind you."

My eyes widened at that, gaze snapping to the hole. Wide enough to crawl through, if only just, and too dark to make out anything beyond. I swallowed, glanced toward the lip of the platform nearby, then slid forward and ducked my head and arms into the gap. Cool metal met my hands on the other side, covered with a layer of dust, metal shavings, and a few small bits of debris. As the area became slightly brighter, I saw that the space was two feet tall or so, providing room for bundled cables and pipes between the true floor of the train and the grating above, now separating me from the cabin overhead. There was hardly any room to maneuver. A claustrophobic sensation rising in my chest, I began to turn and hiss back when I felt Riss climbing in near my feet, fighting with the grate before she crawled her up behind me. It was cramped, but after she settled against me and wrapped an arm over my side the panic I'd felt rising began to subside.

"This is awful," I whispered.

She laughed softly, giving me a gentle squeeze, and I could hear the excitement resonating in her voice as she spoke.

"We're home free, Min! This is it. We just wait here for the next leg of the trip, then sneak out and we're golden." She paused, and I hear shifting behind me before she grunted and allowed,

"It's not real comfy, I'll grant you."

Her elation was infectious, and I reached down to lightly clasp the back of her hand, saying,

"Thanks. You were right about not being able to fit anyone else, huh?"

The conversation dwindled away and I set my head against the floor, turning far enough to peer up through the grating. After what seemed an eternity the sound of a door opening above resonated through the area, and Riss' lips were at my ear.

"Close your eyes," she whispered. "And keep them shut. We can't have anything giving us away."

I wrinkled my nose at the thought but obeyed, squeezing my eyes shut. The darkness was worse, knowing I couldn't open them anytime soon, and the sound of boots moving across the grating overhead set my heart pounding. I tried to remember to breathe and kept still. Riss was still just behind me, warm and near, and concentrating on her presence helped keep me calm. The man walking around overhead muttered to himself, hitting keys and moving levers. Suddenly a shudder worked through the train and I felt it gradually pick up speed, leaving the outpost behind.

The mechanical creaking as the train began to move and the sounds of the man above faded back into quietude. I had no way of measuring time, and found myself thinking idly until I realized that something was gradually teasing the zipper of my uniform down - already past my collarbone, and, as I stiffened in realization, jerking down to my sternum with a soft rustle. I opened my mouth, head turning, but Riss' warm breath rushed against my ear with a barely audible, "Shhh."

Her hand released the zipper and brushed between the parted fabric, curling around one breast and gently squeezing it. A shiver of delight worked down my spine, lust rising even with the alarm I felt.

"Keep your eyes shut," she chided the instant I had cracked them open, lips grazing my ear with her reprimand. "We need to pass the time some way, don't we? And our conductor up there dozed off... Can't you tell?"

I couldn't tell. As she asked the question her thumb dragged across my nipple, tweaking the stiffened nub, then started to gently circle it. I couldn't even focus on catching the thread of the man's breathing, with each gust of hot air on my neck and face, and each gentle graze or tweak from her fingers stoking the pleasure and need within me. Riss shifted, tongue brushing the skin beneath my ear before her teeth fastened on my earlobe and bit down, tugging it softly. I quivered, breath catching, and fought back a whimper. The hand cupping my breast squeezed then, hard but not painfully, and a tiny moan escaped my mouth. Releasing my earlobe, Riss kissed the corner of my jaw then lifted her head to ask,

"You don't want me to stop, do you?"

I shook my head slowly, forcing a shaky, quiet breath out. I could feel her smile, even if I couldn't see it, and she pinched my captured nipple hard enough to arch my back.

"Good," she whispered affectionately. "All you have to do is concentrate on being quiet. You don't want to get us caught again, right?"

What am I trapped down here with? I wondered, gasping as her heated mouth and tongue attacked my throat, pinching flesh and dragging over it to leave saliva that chilled my skin in her wake. Every touch heightened my sensitivity more, and as she started nudging the zipper lower yet my stomach fluttered, hips rocking back against her gently. Her hand curled, fingernails tracing over my abdomen, and she bit down where my shoulder and neck met hard enough to draw a muted whimper. Her hand lazily traced its way down, playing over skin and thighs and finally delving between my legs, filling every fiber of my body with anticipation. Then, barely grazing the outer lips of my sex, she pulled her hand away and heavily dragged her palm over my abdomen, ribs, and back to my chest. I shuddered with slighted need, made all the worse by the laugh I felt more than heard, uttered against the curve of my shoulder. Her head lifted, covering my neck and jaw with warm kisses before she smugly whispered,

"Like I said. We have a lot of time to kill."

I shuddered, legs squeezing together fitfully as she found my breast and squeezed it again, palm grinding against my nipple. I jerked a hand up to my mouth, biting down on a knuckle and swallowing, trying to balance the needs to beg her onward and keep quiet. Her hand rose further, finding my hair and raking through it heavily before it dragged down the unbruised side of my face, tilting my head up to let her claim my mouth in a warm kiss, her tongue sliding past yielding lips to claim mine. She tasted sweet. The hand on my breast once again began its unhurried descent, causing my muscles to tighten beneath it as it glided across my stomach and the side of one hip. This time when she finally delved between my legs she wasted no time in rubbing her palm over the hood of my clit, and when her middle finger curled down to slip into my sex I let out a helpless groan, the noise swallowed by her mouth.

She broke the kiss and I sucked in a heavy breath, biting down my lip as that finger pressed deeper into me. Riss shifted behind me, her other hand sliding behind my neck. Planting her elbow on the floor she half-rose against me, taking advantage of the new angle to curl her wrist and send her index finger in with the first, both stiffening and invading further before they curled, fingertips dragging along the inside as she pulled back. I cracked an eyelid, the sight of her smug grin sending a grateful shiver through me. She noticed instantly, the hand withdrawing from between my legs, and reached up to grip my throat. Head dipping to bask my ear in warm breath anew, she whispered,

"Eyes. Shut."

Her grip and tone made me shiver. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling her hand drag back down across my body, a damp trail left in the wake of her fingers for the first few inches. She pinched my nipple on the way past, twisting it sharply enough that I was unable to fight back the piteous whimper it drew, and I felt her stir in pleasure behind me. When her hand found its way back between my legs it was all I could do to keep from groaning. The risk made each shove of her fingers all the more intense, and it was all I could do to keep from thrashing in the narrow space, trying to take control of her hand and drag more from her.

She read something in the quickening of my breath, because suddenly her hand stilled, fingers embedded but no longer pushing me further. The sudden cessation was maddening and I opened my mouth to protest, but her other hand clamped down over my mouth, denying me. Her fingers began to move again, slowly teasing me, but I could feel the wave that had been building in my core now start to ebb away. My frustration was obvious, even with eyes closed and mouth captured, and I felt her breath on my cheek as she quietly laughed at my desperation. Her fingers thrust into me to the last knuckle, the push arching my back as I let out a groan into her palm. Her hand rocked as she started to fuck me again and my nostrils flared, trying to keep up with my panting and failing to provide all the air I needed. My lungs burned, my concern for our surroundings narrowing solely to the need she stoked to life within me. My clit tormented by her thumb, hips rocking to complement the demanding thrusts of her fingers, I crumbled before the ensuing orgasm and screamed into her hand, held still in her confining embrace. Her hand clamped tighter around my mouth as I screamed, but she didn't stop moving her fingers within me. I pulled both hands up, taking her wrist to clamp down upon it for support, my body quaking helplessly against her.

As the muffled scream died off there was a sound from above the grating. The man dozing in the cabin roused himself with a confused noise and slowly took to his feet. Riss' hand against my sex froze, though the fingers within me kept maddeningly dragging their tips back and forth against my inner walls. She held her other hand clamped over my mouth and I kept tight hold her wrist, trying to keep the panting, nasal breaths I was taking as quiet as possible. Footsteps sounded just above us and I fought the urge to open my eyes. I was desperate to grind against Riss, to shiver and express all the pleasure still coursing through me and unwilling to fade, but I kept motionless and concentrated on the tense breathing of my companion.