POV Captain Rosalie Winters

  "I woul' give lit'rally anythin' for a cock righ' now." One of the soldiers muttered in a heavy brogue to her neighbor as I walked stiffly behind them. They were cleaning the barracks floors with toothbrushes, since the one who had just spoken had been caught... pleasuring herself... when I came through for the nightly inspection. I had to crack down to prevent the forces from falling into complete disarray, though things on base had generally been loosening up in the st week or so.

  It was quite unusual for a captain to be handling such matters, even more unusual than ranking officers to be punished like this, but the command structure at Base Camp Upsilon had been utterly ravaged by the damn virus when it swept through. They'd been forced to burn their comrades, friends, lovers, on funeral pyres as they died by the dozens. The overwhelming number of bodies, coupled with the ck of manpower on base now, had meant digging graves was completely out of the question.

  Usually, there would have been a branch of the chapin service that handled burials, but the brass had completely ruled out any kind of inter-unit visitation for any reason, hoping to prevent any unnecessary contamination and death. It hadn't mattered. The United States had lost 99.99% of its male popution in three weeks. I'd heard that there were a few men who'd been immune to the virus, but those reports sounded more like fanciful dreams than a reality I could depend on.

  The sudden death of half the popution was like a bullet through the guts; it did far more damage than what was immediately noticeable. The ones who couldn't bear the thought of carrying on without their loved ones, in a world that seemed doomed to die within a generation, simply took the easy way out. The initial reports hadn't even had time to come in yet, but over half the women at Base Camp Upsilon had killed themselves.

  Then there was the reality that men literally did the heavy lifting in providing for the nation. Oil and gas crews were absolutely gutted. The General had told me a couple weeks ago that the main command was unching efforts to restore just one of our offshore rigs to operating status, to supply the desperate country with fuel. The agriculture industry was hit just as hard, but farming and gardening was something that was much more easily remedied. That being said, tractors still needed diesel.

  All of this was before you even got to the worst of it. With so many people dead, the nd had fallen into utter wlessness. The southern and northern borders had essentially disappeared, with migrants flowing freely in both directions as people fled their current situation in search of greener pastures. Looting, robbery, and murder were the order of the day when the food was running out and none was coming in the near future.

  All in all, we simply didn't appreciate what life would be like without men. I recalled the attitude many women had about them merely days before the virus began to sughter them like cattle. The "a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle" attitude had quickly been proven incorrect, even if they were thinking on a smaller scale than worldwide. The companionship and dependability men offered us was invaluable, and we only felt it now that it was gone. I suppose that's what drove people like Reagan O'Connelly to pursue such... entertainment... to fill their downtime.

  I never had the desire or need to fulfill such a void, personally. The only man I was ever close to was my father, and he had died with the rest of them when the virus hit. Even so, he'd taught me to be independent. It would dishonor his memory if I went to pieces just because I missed him. That knowledge didn't make the ache in my gut go away, however.

  I shook myself out of my musings and continued monitoring the punishment I was inflicting on the women under my command. They were nearly done, and we would soon be able to actually retire for the evening. I was gd they didn't put up much of a fuss over the punishment, even though they were officers. There was a time when I would've been rung up for making a Chief Master Sergeant scrub the floor, but we were all adjusting to a new normal now, and they recognized that there was a level of order that must be maintained. That meant O'Connelly would have to find more private hours to take care of herself than right before inspection.

  When they'd finished, I simply nodded at the work and strode through the barrack to my corner. Even as a Captain, I didn't have my own quarters. I didn't need them, obviously, but they would have been quite convenient to avoid the snarky remarks that I had to pretend not to hear every day. While btant acts of disordered conduct had to be punished, the common misbehavior had to be ignored, for their sake as much as for mine. I had no desire to be spending every waking moment disciplining them for voicing their opinions within my earshot.

  That didn't make it any easier when I heard their muttered comments; "Maybe if she got some, her partner would find and remove the stick from her ass." "If I was the Captain, I wouldn't be such a tyrant." "Do you think she'll be easier on us once someone pops her cherry?" The st one there had gotten dangerously close to inflicting a midnight run on the whole barracks, but simply raising my eyebrow as I passed had sent the girl into shock, and I was almost certain she was about to wet herself in fright at having been overheard.

  Contrary to the popur gossip that had floated around Upsilon before the virus hit, I wasn't gay. It was a common belief when some fresh-faced recruit was told the worst-kept secret of the Lazarus Project; Captain Rosalie Winters, the auburn bombshell, was a virgin. I had no idea where the rumor had started, as I never discussed my sex life with anyone on base. Perhaps that in and of itself was reason enough for them to suspect the truth. The problem was, I couldn't address it. Not only would it be highly unprofessional, but I was a virgin. I didn't trust myself to be able to pull of such a deception, and success would only mean a new round of gossip.

  So, I went about my business and ignored the comments. Ignored the looks. Ignored the pointed whispers when I passed and the ostracization I encountered among my peers. There wasn't any point in fighting it, so I put my efforts into the work assigned to me, which only exacerbated the impression of a inflexible bitch everyone seemed to have of me. I sighed and rolled into my bed, forcing the knot of anxiety in my stomach to unwind enough for me to sleep.

  I dreamed that night again of a man. A blurry face prevented me from recognizing him as a real person, as it always did, but my undoubtedly-handsome savior was extending a hand out, helping me to my feet. I took his rugged hand in mine, and he pulled me in close. He was warm and firm, a muscur form holding me and protecting me from the rumors and the gnces that pgued me every day. He smelled of pine wood and mint, and his rough whispers reminded me that he was a man. His gentle treatment and soft caresses reminded me that I was a woman. We fit together like the pieces of a puzzle, and I felt my core begin to heat up...

  The bring of a kxon jolted me from my slumber. The barracks erupted into motion, women throwing themselves from their beds and dressing in record speed. I was out the door in under two minutes, my crimson-brown locks flying behind me as I ran for the hangars. The kxon was screaming the arm for an attack, and my job was to be airborne. I reached the hangars and darted inside just as Kendra was rolling out from under my bird.

  "Is she good to go?" I asked curtly, removing my flight suit from a locker and donning it.

  "Right as rain." Kendra responded. "Just keep this bitch low. I haven't had time to tune the mixtures yet, so you'll need a rich atmosphere to make sure nothing goes wrong."

  I was climbing up to the cockpit when the kxon stopped. A voice crackled over the intercom, echoing throughout the base.

  "False arm. Stand down. Captain Winters, Captain Morough, please report to General Eaves' office." The voice repeated the message twice more while Kendra swore loudly and crawled back in and began taking the pne apart again, hopefully to tune it properly.

  "Probably some newbie being trained in the comms office." I sighed, earning a ugh from the brusque mechanic.

  "Let's hope the general leaves enough of their hide intact to keep working, or they'll have to bring in another new one tomorrow." Kendra snarked. I chuckled as I took off the flight suit and made my way out of the hangar.

  I liked Kendra. Despite the fact that she didn't like any of the pilots on base for "hurting her darlings", as she referred to their treatment of the aircraft, she was one of very few people on base who didn't treat me any differently than anyone else. Even if that treatment was with utter ck of decorum and respect, it was refreshing. Kendra had no affinity for anything but "her darlings", which led her to mouthing off at superior officers and kept her bouncing between the lower enlisted ranks as she was commended for her brilliance at her job and reprimanded for her poor attitude in equal measure.

  I put thoughts of the discourteous mechanic out of my mind as I entered the admin building. I reached General Eaves' office door right as the tall, blonde Captain Morough came around the corner into the hallway. I waited for her to catch up, giving her a nod that she returned, before knocking on the door and being beckoned in.

  General Eaves looked agitated. Granted, she usually looked agitated. Even before the virus, agitated was basically her default setting. This time, though, she was practically fuming. Morough and I entered the room and stood at attention before her desk, waiting for her to address us.

  "We have lost contact with Base Camp Gamma. They have not responded to our st two correspondences, and I am unable to raise anyone on the radio network. I need one of you to do a flyover and see what you can. If they have been overrun, we need to know. If they haven't, we need to know that, as well. There might be a breakdown in our communications somewhere, and we need to address it to maintain operational security."

  I nodded once, and saw Morough mimic the movement out of the corner of my eye. The two of us looked at each other, and I saw trepidation in her. I turned back to the general.

  "I'll go."

  General Eaves nodded solemnly. "Wheels up in ten, Captain. Godspeed. You are both dismissed."

  In the hallway outside her office, Morough gave me a weak smile, and whispered her thanks. "I'm sorry, Rosie. I know it's not fair to keep making you take all of these jobs."

  "It's okay, Kenzie." I touched her shoulder and we came to a stop. "If you need to, you should tell Eaves that you need to be reassigned. I don't want you to be forced into the air and have something bad happen."

  Mackenzie sighed and hung her head. "I know, but then you'd be the only qualified combat pilot on the base. Everyone needs a wingman, Rosie."

  I pulled her into a hug, and squeezed her tightly. "You're a great pilot, Mackenzie, but you need to take some time off, talk to Dr. Chambers. Besides, making Eaves take the time to train another combat pilot wouldn't hurt anyone. Having a backup would be excellent, but she won't do it unless forced to."

  Mackenzie pulled away and gave me a raised eyebrow. "I think we're supposed to not scheme and manipute the general behind her back, Rosie."

  "Too te." General Eaves' voice echoed through her door. "Winters, get airborne. Morough, bring me a list of pilots you think would be good candidates."

  We froze in horror. The walls in here were really thin. Then we both barked out affirmations and scurried from the building. I waved goodbye to Morough outside the building and hurried back to the hangar, where Kendra was waist-deep in the inner workings of my craft.

  "Put her back together, Airman." I said as I entered, heading straight for the locker and suiting up again.

  "Fuck!" Kendra's muffled curse echoed out of the pne and into the hangar. "I'm kind of fuckin' busy right now!"

  "I can see that." I responded drily. "General Eaves needs me airborne five minutes ago."

  "Take Morough's bird, then. I need at least fifteen minutes to put this back together."

  I sighed, but headed to the small door connecting my hangar to Morough's. As I left, I heard Kendra muttering more oaths about idiot brass.

  I hit the big button right inside the hangar, and the doors began rolling back on their automated rails. Light flooded the otherwise dark room, illuminating Morough's F-15E Strike Eagle II, a prototype strike fighter that had no need of a weapons system officer, as everything was accessible from the main seat. It was identical to my own in every way, except for the nose. Where mine had a stylized snowfke, courtesy of my st name, Mackenzie's had a four-leaf clover to honor the blonde's Irish heritage.

  I grabbed the keys for the tug, a little vehicle that looked like a beefy golf cart, and used it to pull the the aircraft away from the hangar far enough to not damage anything when I fired up the engine. After returning the tug and locking up the hangar again, I did my pre-flight checklist. Finding everything to be in working order, I put the checklist back and hopped into the cockpit and sealing the canopy over my head. I taxied out onto the runway, powered up, and took off with the familiar rush of adrenaline I'd come to love.

  ***

  God fucking damn it, Kendra. I thought furiously as I lost Engine 2 moments after passing over Base Camp Gamma. The whole pce had been deserted; nobody moving, but plenty of bodies on the ground. I made three passes, activating the high-speed camera on the bottom of the Strike Eagle to capture as much data as I could. When I passed it the third time, heading towards the mountains, the engine failed and the yoke jerked to the side as the uneven thrust tried to turn me. I fought against the pull, trying to get the engine restarted.

  As I was messing with the controls, I didn't notice the steep valley I was flying into. When I looked back up briefly and saw mountains on either side of me, I swore violently. That was when the arm for Engine 1 started going off. With no response from Engine 2, and Engine 1 quickly following it into the grave, I had no choice. The ground was rising up to meet me, and the pne wasn't going to make it back to Upsilon.

  I didn't want to eject in the mountains, but I certainly didn't want to turn and fly straight at the mountains, even for a moment, in case I didn't have enough time left on Engine 1 to complete the turn. There was a tiny town I was bearing down on, and it was probably the best bet I had at surviving the frigid temperatures long enough to be recovered. I swore loudly and punched out.

  The canopy blew clear of the aircraft, exposing me to the whipping winds going past at hundreds of miles an hour. The seat ejected moments ter, and I was unched into the sky right above the quaint little mountain vilge. I was shocked by the simple beauty of the pristine Rocky Mountain wilderness surrounding me, and I simply looked around for several long moments before realizing the situation I was in. I saw Morough's craft practically glide into the ground, piling up tons of snow with its retively-easy nding.

  Peeking over the side of my seat, I saw I was above a ke. A wind picked up right at that moment, though, and I prayed that it would be enough to get me over solid ground. If everything wasn't fucking covered in snow, I might have seen the body of water before punching out, and I wouldn't have been in this situation. If Kendra had fucking fixed the fuel injector instead of obsessing over my own craft, I wouldn't be in this situation. I forced the useless thought from my head and braced for the inevitable impact.

  ***

  "Friendly! Friendly! I'm with Lazarus!" I screamed in terror as I felt someone fighting against the outside of my cloth tomb as I fought against the inside. The fucking parachutes always wrapped you up, no matter how you nded. Whoever signed off on these designs must've gotten a hell of a blowjob to give it a pass.

  "Gd to know you're friendly, but I think you’ve got bigger problems right now." A deeper, rough growl that sent shivers down my spine and a shot of fire straight to my pussy reverberated through the parachute. I went totally still, and my savior soon had me out of it.

  He looked like... well... not what I would imagine my savior looking like. His shortish hair and full beard were just long enough to be tangled by weeks of not washing, evidenced by the dirt and grime covering every inch of his skin. He looked like a wild man, and not in the hot way. Did I get rescued by the town bum? Was that why he hadn't been infected yet? Infected. Shit.

  He helped me to my feet, and I looked into his eyes for the first time. They were absolutely gorgeous; steel gray mixed with a touch of light blue, like a hazel with the colors of a stormy sea. When I put weight on my left ankle, the pain brought me back to reality. Did I just fucking infect this guy? He certainly hadn't been around people for a while, smelling the way he did. Could he be...

  "Are you immune?" I asked hesitantly.

  "Immune to what?"