Page 18 of Shared Omega

At least I have my .40-cal and my boot knife.

Another howl, closer this time.

I need to get into a better position, and fast.

There is a sturdy-looking branch jutting several feet to my right. Swinging my legs, I manage to rock my harness back and forth until I can grasp the limb with my arms.

The howls increase. They are coming from all directions now. There are sounds of snapping twigs and trampled underbrush as the creatures close in.

I clamber onto the branch, keeping my weight near the trunk where the wood is the strongest.

My hand flashes to the knife on my boot, drawing it. The cold steel glints as it catches a stray moonbeam. I cut away the strap holding my left shoulder, then I switch hands, cutting loose the right strap too.

I swing my body up into a seated position on the limb, leaning my back against the rough trunk.

Down below, the chorus of howls has become a cacophony.

The Alphas are here.

They emerge from the depths of the forest, loping on all fours like wild animals. There are five of them. They circle the base of the tree, licking their drooling chops and snuffling the air, picking up my omega scent.

They bark angrily. The beasts are confused. They can smell me, but they can’t find me.

Then one of them looks up, and even from thirty feet up in the darkness I can see the fires of animal lust lighting up his eyes. He grunts excitedly and then belts out a deafening, bone-chilling howl of triumph. His companions raise their heads and join in the terrifying song.

They’ve spotted me.

I just hope these freaks don’t climb trees.

Luckily, the giant tree that I’m trapped in is devoid of branches for the first fifteen feet or so, and the girth of the massive trunk is too great even for the enormous arm-span of these Alphas.

For a moment, I watch the figures below as if in a trance. They are revolting. Their naked bodies are grotesque and twisted, and their faces are horribly disfigured by a combination of mutation and battle-scars. Foaming saliva flecks their ugly lips, and they pop their jaws like rabid dogs.

But the worst part of all are the monstrous, misshapen erections jutting from between their legs. Ugly, twisted members that are hard and oozing with arousal.

I wonder how I can see so well in this darkness, and it occurs to me that it must be part of my omega mutation.

Right now, it’s more of a curse than a blessing.

The beasts are enraged, lost in a mindless mating frenzy, and I’m the object of their desire. The thought of them sating their sick urges with my body turns my stomach.

One of the Alphas tries to scramble up the trunk of the tree. He makes it about ten feet before his limbs lose their purchase, and he slides back down, seemingly oblivious to the way the rough bark scrapes his naked body and abrades his exposed cock.

I hold my position, straddling the branch and keeping my weight on the crook of the limb and the trunk.

I run through my options. Briefly, I consider opening fire with my pistol, but I nix that idea. I need to conserve my ammo, and for the moment at least, I seem to be safe.

Down below, the horny Alphas are growing increasingly agitated, yipping and snarling as they take turns trying to scramble up the tree. Their attempts are futile. In their bestial frustration, some of them start fighting with each other like mad dogs.

“That’s right, you ugly freaks,” I mutter to myself. “Good luck getting to me up here.”

It immediately occurs to me that I’m now just as much a freak as the horrid creatures swirling and howling below me. I push that thought out of my mind.

My only goal for now is survival.

For now, it’s just a waiting game. I only need to outlast these males.

Sooner or later, these feral Alphas will have to go find food and water. The same goes for me, but at least for now I have an advantage. While I’m perched up here safe in my tree, I’m not expending any energy. But if those frenzied Alphas keep running and jumping around down there, eventually they will wear themselves out.