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1.04 – Looting

  I dreamed the whole thing, hadn’t I? I must be freezing to death in my cabin, and this fever dream was my brain’s way of trying to wake me up. I didn’t feel cold, though; I felt warm and comfortable. There was a pleasant pressure against my front, and something soft and perfectly shaped to my hips was pressed against my crotch, gently massaging my morning wood with every slight motion I made. It felt so good…

  Without any thought for it, I pressed forward firmly with my hips, grinding my cock against the warmth in front of me. It was unbelievably soft and supple, conforming to my shape as I thrust again. On the third push, to my horror, a moan snapped me out of my dazed dry-humping, and the events of yesterday broke into my mind.

  I was in bed, mostly naked, and shoving a rather firm erection directly into Rosalie’s ass. The perfect, heart-shaped ass of a fighter pilot who had more than enough hand-to-hand combat training to break any number of my bones if she wanted to. I froze immediately, not even daring to breathe.

  Idiot. She knows you’re awake now. You caught her the same way st night. Then, much to my surprise, she let out another soft moan and pushed her own hips back into me. Holy shit! She was grinding on me in her sleep, presumably while having a wet dream. Another soft moan, and another insistent push backwards. My cock throbbed, and she spoke.

  “Solomon.” She whispered my name with an indecent amount of arousal in her tone. “Yes, Solomon. Take me.”

  Okay, this was probably going too far. She was dreaming about me, moaning my name in her sleep, and grinding her ass into my rock-hard cock. Surely this was a situation that needed to be stopped… right? Before I could summon up enough willpower to let the gentleman in me take over and wake her up, her hand reached behind her and pulled on my ass to shove me harder against her.

  My mind went completely bnk, frozen in the sensations and the erotic circumstances I found myself in. Then, I noticed that my hand, the one she draped over her side st night, was resting on her breast. Fuck. Had I started this? Had she? Either way, I definitely needed to extract myself before she woke up in this position.

  I shifted back from her slightly, and her hand slid off my ass. Rather than moving back in front of her, however, it went straight for the void that had opened between us. It gripped my cock through my boxers, hard, and began to slowly stroke it. I didn’t know what to do now. I could keep trying to pull away, but her iron grip wouldn’t let me slip out without her knowing. My internal debate was interrupted as she spoke again, much more lucid this time.

  “Come on, dude. Are you going to fuck me or not?”

  “Rosalie?”

  “Did you invite someone else into our bed st night?” I could hear the humor in her voice.

  “You’re awake?”

  She rolled over so I could see her bemused expression. “Since you first poked me in the ass with this.” She gripped my cock again. “You know, it’s really rude to tease if you’re not going to follow through.”

  “I wasn’t trying to… This isn’t… I’m not…” I couldn’t get a single straight sentence out for the life of me. I was beyond flustered, and Rosalie seemed to think it was the best way for me to be. She refused to let go of my cock, still stroking it firmly through my boxers, while those killer blue eyes stared at me. A smirk was stuck firmly across her gorgeous lips.

  “Don’t you think I’m pretty?” She asked, putting on a faux-worried look and biting her lower lip.

  “Of course you are! I just… we were asleep… I wasn’t trying…”

  “Oh, well if this is you not trying, I can’t wait to see what kind of moves you can put on me with your full effort.” She ughed. “I can’t imagine anything more romantic and suave than getting woken up by you groping and dry-humping me.”

  My brain ceased working again out of sheer embarrassment. I’d woken her up. I was asleep the entire time, though! Surely that wasn’t something she could hold against me. I felt my cheeks coloring under my beard, and was gd that it was fairly dark in the room. Before I could even form an apology, or ask her to let go of my cock, however sacrilegious that request sounded, Rosalie had slipped under the covers.

  She pulled my underwear off without preamble and got her hand wrapped around my cock again, this time softly stroking it while her breath tickled the tip of it. “My, my.” She purred, muffled by the bnket. “You really do have a gorgeous cock, Solomon.”

  I lifted the bnket to look at her and she winked, then swallowed my entire dick in one straight shot. My head smmed back into the pillow as I tried desperately to keep myself from immediately blowing my load down her hot, wet throat. She was obviously very skilled at this, and she was extremely eager to finish it quickly.

  Much faster than I would ever admit to anyone, I was panting and saying, “Rosalie, shit! I’m close… I’m gonna… Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

  Rosalie buried her face in my crotch and swallowed hard. That was all I could take, and I gave into the pleasure. It swept me away on waves of ecstasy as I came inside a woman for the first time in years. Fuck, what a way to end such a huge dry spell!

  When I finally was able to focus again, Rosalie was no longer under the covers. In fact, she wasn’t even in the bed anymore. She had moved across the room and was tugging on one of the sets of clothes that I’d gotten her from the store. She didn’t seem upset, though. It was like nothing had even happened.

  “Um…” I said, and she turned to look at me with a cocked eyebrow. “Did you want me to… y’know?” God, I could not be more fucking awkward.

  She smiled, though, amused. “That’s real sweet, Solomon, but I’m not in the mood.”

  That nearly broke my brain as much as the orgasm did. “But… we just… I mean, you just… What?” Again, very eloquent. It’s a wonder I’m not just drowning in pussy.

  “It was just a blowjob, Solomon.” Rosalie spoke matter-of-factly as she turned away and continued getting ready for the day. “I just wanted you to be able to focus today, that’s all. It didn’t do anything for me, so there’s no unfinished business here. Just don’t make a big deal out of it.”

  Don’t make a big deal out of, hands down, the single best blowjob I’d ever had in my life? Christ, I’d only sted sixty seconds, if I was being generous! How was she just acting like it didn’t even happen?

  “Well, um, thanks? I guess? It was… very good.” I wanted to die. I just wanted that bed to swallow me up and let me die so I wouldn’t have to see her smirking at me anymore, delighting in my awkwardness.

  “Well, I guess I can settle for ‘very good’ for now. You’re welcome.” She said coyly before heading outside with a partially full kettle to get started on breakfast. She walked with a slight limp, but her ankle seemed to be doing much better than it was the previous day. I was pleased to see that, as it indicated the sprain wasn't as bad as it could have been.

  The breeze coming in as she shut the door was enough to spur me into action. I got dressed and wrapped up in some of the winter gear, grabbed the two water bottles from under the bnkets, and headed outside. Rosalie already had the fire going fairly well, and I handed her one of the bottles before making a couple minor adjustments to the sticks and logs, ensuring all the wood burned evenly.

  “What do you need me to focus on today?” I asked, hopefully nonchantly. I still felt incredibly awkward, but if Rosalie was just going to ignore what had happened, I would ignore it too, to the best of my ability. Despite that, I couldn't help the gnces I was directing at her with more and more frequency. She was a magnetic force, and I was unable to pull away.

  “Looting.” She said simply, pulling me out of my musings, while she warmed her hands over the fire. “We need to find and secure as many firearms and as much ammunition as we can find before rescue shows up.”

  “Why?”

  She looked at me as if I had grown a third head. “Because we need them, back at base.”

  “I don’t do guns.” I said, turning to face her full-on.

  “You do now.” She mirrored my movement.

  “No, I don’t.”

  Rosalie narrowed her eyes at me. “Listen, Solomon, this country is not safe and free anymore. Between the various encves that have taken over different areas and the raiders from Canada and Central and South America, the American countryside has become a veritable warzone.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Not to me.” I insisted stubbornly, his face fshing before my eyes again. “I’m never going to take another person’s life again.”

  Rosalie sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose with one hand. Finally, she looked up at me with great irritation in her eyes. “Fine. Obviously I can’t force you to defend yourself or anyone else, but you likely won’t even have the chance to today; a small benefit to the seclusion of this little mountain town. That doesn’t mean you don’t have to work. Lazarus needs whatever arms and ammunition we can find, even if you are going to refuse to use them.”

  “I’ll carry them, but you’re right; I am not going to be using them, ever.” I said stonily.

  Rosalie huffed, and the kettle began whistling to announce the boiling of the water for our breakfast. We moved back inside to eat quickly, then emptied the cart entirely and stood by the fire until the sun peeked over the mountains and began warming the air. When it did, we banked the fire and I led Rosalie towards my grandpa's house.

  "Let's check in here." Rosalie said when we came across the first house on our route.

  "No need." I said ftly. "I know where we can get enough arms and ammo to fill this cart."

  Rosalie raised her eyebrows, but didn't comment. She followed behind me silently, keeping a vigint eye for anything that might pose a danger. We wound through the cold, snow-covered streets of the town. It took an hour and a half to reach my grandpa's street, and a wave of tragic nostalgia washed over me when we did. I paused, gathering my courage, then continued pushing the cart along. It was suddenly much heavier than it had been moments ago.

  We made our way down the street, then up his walkway. I left the cart there, and climbed the steps to the front door. I opened it slowly, knowing that it wouldn't be locked. My grandpa never locked his door, not when he knew everyone in town. As such, we walked right into the entryway that I hadn't seen in years. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and led Rosalie through the house to the back porch. It was enclosed, and most of it was used to house the generator my grandpa used when the power went out during bad winter storms.

  I spent longer than I would have liked trying to get the generator started. Eventually it roared to life, belching bck smoke out the exhaust pipe, which had been extended to reach outside the porch to avoid choking on the fumes. With that started, we moved back inside and Rosalie pced a hand on my shoulder.

  "Solomon, why didn't we stay here st night?" She asked quietly. I looked back at her and saw that she was looking... nervous? The emotion looked unfamiliar on her face, but I was certain that's what it was.

  "It's my grandpa's old house. Mine, now, technically." Rosalie was wise enough to put two and two together. If I owned this house, which had once been my grandpa's, but I was choosing to live in a mountain shack with no plumbing, there had to be some serious issues I had with being here. She squeezed my shoulder gently, and I shook her off. I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but I also didn't want to spend any longer than needed in here.

  "Let's get this done quick." I said gruffly, taking her to the basement. We descended the stairs in darkness, holding onto the handrail. At the bottom, I reached out to the right for the light switch. When I flicked it on, Rosalie gasped loudly.

  It was a well-warranted gasp. My grandpa's basement, which I had always called "the armory", had shelves lining three of the four walls. The wall under the stairs was all shelves, as well as the two on either side of it. The wall on the opposite side was floor-to-ceiling pegboard with hooks holding up the pride and joy of my grandpa's retirement. He had been a Marine in his youth and, while enlisted, it had bred a love of firearms in him, and he spent a good portion of his ter years acquiring all sorts of "hardware".

  Arranged in loose categories going from left to right, there were handguns, hunting rifles, shotguns, magazine-fed rifles, submachine guns, and two heavy M60 machine guns, one an original and one the test model, the M60E6. Every inch of the wall had a firearm on it, and every shelf along the other three was holding ammunition. There was a table in the middle holding a reloading station, with four giant tubs and many smaller tubs hiding underneath, holding gunpowder, primers and bullets.

  "What the fuck?" Rosalie whispered as she took everything in. "How did your grandpa even get some of these? Are those full-auto M60s? That's a P90! And an M4! What the hell, Vine?"

  "Ooh-rah." I replied sullenly, trying not to dwell on the ghost of my grandpa. "He spent a lot of time collecting all these. Had some help from friends still in the service, I think."

  "He would have needed it, too." Rosalie said, walking over to the wall and gazing in awe at it. "Half of these aren't even legal for civilians to own if they're full-auto."

  "Everything is full-auto, if it has the capability." I started pulling the heavier equipment off the wall as I spoke. I handed Rosalie both the M60s, which she cradled like newborn children. Then I pulled off the P90 she'd spotted, as well as a Beretta M12 grandpa had gotten restored. I also grabbed the Agram 2000, one of the newest SMGs hanging there. "Grandpa only wanted 'real power', as he put it. Semi-auto didn't have a high enough rate of fire for him."

  Rosalie just nodded dumbly and followed me back out of the basement again. We carried the firearms to the grocery cart outside before coming back in for more. It took many, many trips, but we eventually had the cart completely filled. Rosalie was disappointed at how much we were leaving, but decided we would make a second trip to get more of it. She especially wanted the reloading station, but that was a heavy motherfucker.

  When the cart was full, I pushed it back to the hotel with Rosalie following. It was even slower going on the way back, with how fucking heavy the damn cart was now, but we made decent time. Once we'd unloaded the cart, we broke for lunch before heading back and loading it up again. We weren't able to take all of the ammunition, but Rosalie made sure we took every firearm he had. She mumbled something about coming back for the rest of it, but it was already getting dark.

  "You know how to use any of these?" Rosalie asked as we made our way across town for the fourth time that day.

  "I know how to use all of them." I replied evenly. "I'm a pretty good shot with them, too, if I do say so myself."

  "Pity. It would be helpful to have another live weapon here." Her tone was vague. I couldn't tell if she was trying to tease me, convince me, or shame me with the jab at my self-imposed pacifism, but I didn't much care.

  "It's not happening, Rosalie." I sniped at her. "I won't justify myself to you, and you won't convince me to use one of them, so drop it."

  A chill that had nothing to do with the weather washed over me, emanating from the girl following in my footsteps. I was irritated now, but I still felt bad for having snapped. She had no idea what she was asking. She didn't see him when she picked up a gun, and I certainly wasn't about to tell her that I did.

  We trudged back to the motel in silence, making it to the parking lot well after the moon had risen high in the sky. Those hours of darkness were all it took for the pair of us to get positively frigid, and we were both happy to get the fire started again. Dinner was more .s which, I had to admit, were getting less appealing with each one I ate.

  When I slid into the bed beside Rosalie, hot water bottles tucked snugly at our feet, she declined to wrap my arm around herself as she had st night. Perhaps the blowjob really hadn’t meant anything to her, but my refusal to use a firearm and my poor attitude clearly did. I shifted to get comfortable, and tried to ignore the nagging feeling that I had poisoned my budding friendship with the striking woman.

  ***

  Rosalie was already out of bed when I woke up this time. By the time I had managed to haul myself out of bed and get dressed, she was coming in the front door with the hot water necessary for breakfast. We stood next to the fire and ate more slowly than yesterday, still worn out from our treks all over town in the cold. When the wind wasn’t blowing, it was fairly comfortable next to the fmes.

  “How long do you think it’ll be before your people find us?” I asked when Rosalie had finished eating.

  She opened her mouth to respond, then cocked her head to the side, listening. “I’d say about thirty seconds.” I heard it just a second ter; the thunder of helicopter bdes breaking the silence of the ghost town.

  The enormous chopper made a circuit around the perimeter of the town before angling towards us. I hauled the first cart full of ammo and guns out of the motel room and Rosalie filled my pack with the most essential of our supplies while the pilot of the chopper started the nding procedures above the supermarket’s parking lot across the street. It looked like it was going to be a tight squeeze, trying to fit the skids in between the abandoned cars.

  By the time we’d gotten across the street with the enormously heavy cart, there were two figures running towards us from the chopper carrying rifles. As they drew near, I saw that they were both women. That struck me as odd for a moment, before I remembered what had happened. Despite having spent all of yesterday looting my hometown because of the virus, I had somehow forgotten that nearly every man on earth was now dead. I shook myself, and prayed they had a good therapist on staff wherever we were going. I clearly had a lot to unpack.

  “Captain Winters!” The first of the two women said as they drew near while they both snapped off a salute, which Rosalie returned briefly. They were both incredibly stiff, and I had the feeling they were straining to not look at me.

  The one who had spoken was as tall as Rosalie, with long, blonde hair that was tied back in a ponytail, which stuck out the back of a camo hat. She had a retively small bust, and her legs were long and lean like a runner’s. Her piercing blue eyes couldn’t resist the draw, and flicked, for a fraction of a second, towards me.

  The other was a bck woman shorter than the rest of us, dreadlocks hanging down the back of her head with all the curves that the taller dy was missing. Her chocote eyes remained forward and steady, but I saw her fingers fidget a couple of times.

  “We need to get loaded and off the ground ASAP.” Rosalie ordered, motioning to the cart that we had gotten to the entrance of the parking lot. “There's more of that in room thirteen across the street. Solomon, with me.” She marched off towards the chopper, leaving the cart for the other women to take care of.

  I followed after her, gncing sheepishly at the women as we offloaded the physical bor onto them. At the chopper, Rosalie instructed me to climb in and strap into the middle seat of the bench facing the front of the cabin.

  “Shouldn’t I help them load?” I asked, pointing back towards the women shoving the cart towards us.

  “Solomon, do not make this any more difficult than it needs to be. We secure the most important cargo first, end of discussion.” Rosalie said impatiently.

  I stared at her until, with a flicker of understanding, I realized that I was the important cargo. Of course I was. I shook my head and did as she directed. The seatbelt was blessedly easy to manage and, once the headset was secure over my ears, it severely muffled all other sounds. I gave Rosalie a thumbs-up, and she climbed in, making her way to the cockpit. She sat in the copilot's seat and donned her own headset. I could see her lips moving, and the pilot responding, but didn't hear them. After their brief exchange, Rosalie pulled the headset back off and started helping to load the rest of the equipment.

  “Welcome aboard, sir.” The pilot’s voice crackled over the headset, sounding vaguely Hispanic in accent, reinforced by her name. “I am First Lieutenant Gabrielle Mendez. Don’t worry about Captain Winters. She’s a hardass to everyone.”

  I blinked at that announcement. Rosalie, Captain Winters, had seemed anything but a hardass the st two days. Efficient, yes. Driven, sure. She seemed just as ready to drop a joke as to kick some ass, though. Maybe that was just the effect of being outside the structure of the military. Or maybe I was still influenced by the blowjob yesterday morning.

  “Thanks, Lieutenant.” I responded. “Is it true? Men are gone?” I couldn’t help myself. I had to hear it from another person. Gabrielle took a while to respond, and I realized just how tactless that question had been when her voice quavered slightly over the headset.

  “Yes, sir. The higher-ups have a better handle on the situation, but my understanding is that there are a few hundred, maybe a few thousand, men left on the pnet. You’re the first one I’ve seen since it all went to shit.”

  “I’m sorry.” I felt like an idiot, but I felt like asking her who she’d lost was an even bigger bonehead move. She seemed to guess the questions on my tongue, though.

  “My father and my brother. They went pretty early on, so they at least didn’t have to see everyone else dying around them.” She sounded like she was forcing herself to adopt the tough, give-no-shits tone.

  “Again, I’m sorry. That must have been really difficult for you.” I said, casting around for another topic and coming up empty. Instead, we sat in silence as Rosalie and the other two finished loading the munitions. They loaded quickly and, before I knew it, they were heading back for the second load. When they were done, they strapped in with headset on and we were airborne.

  I’d never ridden in a helicopter before, and the flips my stomach did when we took off must have shown on my face. An airsickness bag was shoved in front of my face, and I looked up to see one of the two women I hadn’t gotten names off of yet holding it out for me. I thanked her, and held it halfway open, just in case.

  “You better not puke in my bird!” Lieutenant Mendez said.

  “You’d better not puke anywhere.” Rosalie retorted.

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