Skyfire by Mack Maloney

Author:Mack Maloney
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-11-26T03:27:56+00:00

Chapter Thirty

Elizabeth Sandlake rolled over and briefly admired the naked body of the beautiful Spanish woman lying next to her.

The woman's name was Juanita Juarez and she belonged to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth ran her hand up the lovely dark skin of the woman's thighs, over her tight stomach and around her full breasts. Her fingers lightly touched the dark beauty's face and caressed her hair.

What woman would not want to sleep with such a beautiful creature? Elizabeth thought.

She's the next best thing . . . Elizabeth found herself thinking.

But in the next moment, she felt all traces of pleasantness wash out of her.

Her head hurt and her stomach was growling. She could feel another brutal hangover coming on. Her own long hair was a jumble of tangles and one touch of her face proved her carefully applied makeup was now smeared and runny.

Looking around in the dim light of the sub's perfume-drenched cabin, she saw that the place was in an outrageous state of disarray. Beside the bed she shared with the sleeping woman were three empty myx bottles. A fourth had been spilled sometime during the night

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and had soaked a large part of the cabin floor. Lying right next to this pool of red liquor was the discarded fighter pilot's flight suit; it too was covered with myx stains.

The pilot's helmet and a ceremonial male organ modality were also lying nearby.

The night before had been wild-too wild.

The hallucinogenic liquor had flowed more freely than at any other time since she'd been aboard the sleek submarine, known as Fire Bats Nord, or Four Boats-North. Her fragile memory told her that no less than seven women had romped in the bed with her and Juanita the night before, taking turns wearing both the pilot's suit and the dildo. At the time, it had been pure unadulterated erotic pleasure. Now, with the onslaught of the morning after, Elizabeth was beginning to regret it all.

This can't go on much longer, she thought as she rolled over and begged her head to stop aching.

Elizabeth was quite insane-but her madness was of a most peculiar nature.

True, it was a debilitating, self-destructive psychosis. But she nevertheless willingly gave herself to it. Messianic and nymphomanic, obsessive and schizophrenic, megalomanic and paranoid, Elizabeth had enough loose ends to stock an entire ward of lunatics. But she was not at the mercy of this multilevel complex-she reveled in it.

That was, after all, the best part of the insanity.

She was an educated woman-she held a Ph.D. in the esoteric study of Deep Zone Archeology. But she also had minored in psychology, so she had long ago recognized exactly what was wrong with her and how she had come by the affliction. It was the result her being held in total isolation in deep caves in the Yucatan by the gold-hungry Canal Nazis of the Twisted Cross. It was a simple snap she had felt in her brain

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that fateful night while locked in the deepest depths of a cavern beneath an ancient Mayan pyramid.

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