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look at them.”

If that won’t get him to clean his teeth, I don’t know what will. Whenever Ryder and Terrier went to Level Six of the bunker to see the kids, Vera was all over Terrier like a bad rash, much to Ryder’s amusement.

Terrier shuddered. “That’s fucked up, Ryder. My day started off so well. I was looking forward to a bit of hunting, sleeping, and hanging out with the kids. But oh no, you had to spoil it. Now, I can’t stop picturing Vera coming toward me.”

Terrier was uncomfortable around most women. He didn’t know what to say to them. Ryder was the exception, but she was hiding the fact that she was female from the whole bunker so she didn’t count. She was one of the boys.

Vera was a different type of female altogether. She didn’t follow the bunker’s rules, and Terrier was terrified of her frequent and unwelcome advances.

His face scrunched up with worry. “I’m going to go clean them right now. Anything to keep you from sending her my way.”

Ryder started to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” he growled. “You know that woman is crazy!”

“Crazy for your big black dick,” Ryder teased, pointing at her crotch for effect.

Terrier’s growl became a whimper and she laughed, knowing she was getting under his skin.

“Why don’t you just give it to her?” she asked. “Then she’ll leave you alone.”

Terrier was laughing, too, now. “Why don’t you?”

Ryder leaned closer to him, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Because I seemed to have misplaced my cock.”

The two of them chuckled as they made their way through the bunker to the exit level. She hoped Terrier would be able to get Vera’s image out of his mind. She was already distracted by her thirst. They’d catch fuck-all on their hunt if his mind was on avoiding Vera when they got back to the bunker.

The fact that Ryder was masquerading as a male wasn’t the only thing she hid from everyone in the bunker. When Ryder drank water, it affected her like alcohol. A few other men in the bunker had the same issue, except they didn’t see it as a problem. They enjoyed getting drunk on water, and the lack of responsibility that came with the affliction. Ryder kept it to herself, losing control whilst intoxicated and revealing her true gender was her greatest fear. She rationed her water, drinking only what was necessary to keep her alive.

Terrier was a big help with that. He was the only one in the bunker who knew about her burden, and he would fill her flask for the day with just the right amount to stop her from getting hammered.

He would give her the daily allowance in the morning. If she drank it all in one go, he would refuse to refill her flask. She’d learned to space her sips out or spend the day drier than a fuck with no foreplay.

The overwhelming urge to drink consumed Ryder’s thoughts. She was addicted to clear, cold water like an alcoholic to vodka. Unlike an alcoholic, though, Ryder couldn’t go cold turkey —or she’d die of dehydration.

Some days, she gave in to the urge—unable to resist the sweet relief of quenching her parched throat a single moment longer—but she always paid for it. It was a thin line, and if she crossed it then one day she would pay the ultimate price.

The two guards standing inside the exit door barely glanced at Terrier and Ryder as they reached the top of the staircase. They went this way every day and the guards always let them pass, along with the other hunters. Anyone else trying to leave would be turned back, or worse. Only the hunters were allowed out of the bunker, Afana decreed it.

With the exception of Ryder, all the hunters were males. Ryder would only be allowed to leave the bunker as long as her secret remained intact. If her deception was ever uncovered then her death was a given, but to Ryder, it was worth the risk just to feel the sun on her skin.

Terrier pushed open the heavy metal exit doors, and Ryder inhaled, savoring the day’s first fresh breath. The warm air hit her, sending the nerves tingling across her naked arms. The freedom of being outside made Ryder feel alive. It would be taken from her when the day’s hunting was over, but until then she would make the most of every second.

The moment soon passed. Other hunters were already outside, loosely clumped together in a group. Ryder could feel Terrier’s eyes on her, making sure she was comfortable with joining the hunting party.

She knew for sure that one of these assholes would spoil this beautiful day. She wouldn’t care to wager which of the assholes gathered before her it would be, but there was always at least one dickhead in the group intent on fucking things up.

She wished she could hunt alone with Terrier, but Afana only let the hunters go out in groups of six. If a hunter strayed from the pack, the others would cheerfully hunt him down and bring his head back to the bunker as a trophy.

Afana would not accept traitors in his domain, and abandoning the bunker was at the top of the “traitorous acts” list. These men would behead their friends, not out of any sense of Justice, but for the promise of a base reward —access to the most desirable women in the bunker.

Ryder hated Afana’s rules, but if she didn’t follow them then she’d be dead. Sometimes, she wondered if death would be a better alternative to the life they led under Afana’s iron fist.

However, she doubted whether she would be brave enough to take the risk if she ever got the chance to escape. Running could mean losing her head. There were four men standing right next to her right now who would jump at the opportunity to curry favor by bringing it to the generals.

Of course, Terrier wouldn’t let anyone kill Ryder.

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