"Becoming Family" (closed)

TiredFingers

Really Really Experienced
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"Becoming Family"

A story from the end of the world


CLOSED

As they rounded the bend in the mountain road, the three vehicles belonging to the Mapleton Militia slowed to a stop, staying well back from the little bridge that crossed over a narrow creek. A dump truck filled the narrow bridge, blocking any forward movement by the small convoy. No sooner had the SUV, box delivery van, and canopied, military style truck come to a halt then the Militia Captain was out of the lead vehicle and barking orders to the dozen or so armed men disembarking to the pavement.

Somewhere from in the woods, coming from a bull horn, a male's voice called, "Remain on the pavement and no harm will come to you!"

The Captain ignored the voice and ordered his men to find cover in the ditches paralleling the road. A moment later, a scream sounded from the ditch near the aft end of the convoy where a steel trap had slammed shut around one of the Militiamen's ankles.

The voice called from the bull horn again, "Remain on the pavement and no harm will come to you!"

The Militiamen seemed hesitant, many of them looking to their Captain for guidance. He gave them a gentle gesture of hold position, then called out, "Who are you, and what do you want?"

A moment later, still from the bull horn but seemingly from a very different position, the voice called, "You are transporting slaves to the market in Mapleton, yes?"

The Captain didn't immediately answer but -- from his point of view -- clarified, "We are taking criminals to Militia Headquarters, where they will be tried for their crimes and, if found guilty, will be sentenced to various forms of labor for--"

He was interrupted by a single gunshot, a large caliber rifle round that passed through and shattered the driver's side and passenger's side rear windows of the Captain's SUV. As the explosion rolled through the forest, the Militiamen scattered to hiding positions, hit the ground, or simply remained frozen in place.

"Okay, so, describe it the way you want, then," the Captain said, adding, "Whaddaya want?"

"Unload your hostages so I can see them," the voice in the forest said, seeming to have moved yet again. "Line them up along the side of the road."

The Captain attempted to argue the demand, but a second rifle shot -- seemingly from a different position, implying a second shooter -- sent a cloud of dust and gravel up from the shoulder near his feet. He hesitated, then ordered the hostages unloaded. A bit more than a dozen men, women, and children were taken from the back of the canopied truck and lined up. They were all shackled at the wrists with a chain connecting them all from waist to waist.

A long moment of nothing passed before the Captain finally called toward the woods, "Now what?"

"Which of you women are or were mothers, or were caretakers for younger siblings or other children before the Plague?" the voice called. Some of the hostages looked between one another; some looked to the Captain as if seeking permission to signal. The voice called, "Raise your hands if you have experience with children."

After a moment, one and then two and three of the women raised their bound hands. Another moment passed before the voice in the woods called, "Release the woman in the red dress and the girl in the green pants. Then, load up the rest and be on your way. The keys for the dump truck are in the ignition. Move it out of your way and be gone."

The Captain laughed loud enough for all to hear, then asked, "You want me to give up three of my hostages and a truck full of supplies? And what the hell do I get in return, asswipe?"

"You get to sell the rest of your slaves at market," the bull horn sounded, followed by, "and you get to live another day."

The Captain caught the eye of several of his men, made some head gestures, then spoke some soft orders of how the attack on the woods would proceed. Suddenly, his head jerked back and as he fell to the ground in a heap the woods again exploded with the sound of the powerful rifle.

"Do as I ordered!" the man in the forest repeated as the echoes of the gun shot were passing through the scene again. "Release the women, and the boy at the end with the purple suspenders, too, for your leader's mistake of questioning me. Then, load up your hostages and your dead leader and leave!"

There was confusion amongst the Militiamen, but soon enough a junior officer took command and did as ordered. The three hostages were urged to the gravel shoulder and the others once again loaded up. As this happened, two Militiamen hurried to the ditch to help their still whimpering man out of the animal trap.

In the other direction, a Militiaman had already run for the dump truck. He fired it up, threw it into reverse, and popped the clutch. As it backed slowly, he jumped out; a moment later, it's direction took the truck into the ditch, clearing the road for the other vehicles which were already crossing the bridge.

"Open the back of the box truck and get inside," the voice called as the three Militia trucks were reaching the next corner. The trio hesitated on the road edge hesitated, with a pair of them chatting quietly and looking up and down the road. The man in the woods knew they were likely contemplating running and called, "Look at the blood spot on the ground near you and decide what you want to do next."

A moment later all three of the released hostages were moving to the back of the truck. They opened it and helped one another inside.

"Pull the door down!" sounded the bull horn.

Once the three were hidden behind the door, Henry Palmer hurried down from the woods to the back of the truck and slammed the door's latch locked. He entered the truck's cab carefully, fearing that a Militiaman had remained behind. But there was no one there. Henry jumped behind the wheel, turned the truck around with several short back and forth movements, then sent it down the road with haste.

Over the next hour or so, Henry stopped the truck several times to replace natural barricades meant to hide his path. Another twenty minutes on an abandoned logging road got him to his destination, an old log truck loading area deep inside a second growth area of fir. He unlatched the cargo bay's door, then stepped back and leveled a shotgun at it as he commanded those inside to come out. As they did, he smiled to them politely and said, "Welcome to the family."

Flanking him and looking at the newcomers were 4 children, their ages ranging from 9 years old down to 16 months. As the hostages looked at them, the children's reactions varied from none at all to wide smiles and an energetic wave.
 
The truck had been rocking and rolling over the road for what seemed like hours when it slowed and stopped. Alice assumed they'd reached their destination, where ever that was.

She was still in disbelief over what was happening to her. Just the day before, in the hours just before dawn, she'd been snatched from her bed, gagged and bound, and tossed into the back of a truck. She would learn from what she overheard that she was going to be sold as a slave -- likely a sex slave!

How could this be happening to her? She'd survived the plague that was killing humankind only to end up some man's play thing in the bedroom...? Or, was she to end up a sex whore in a brothel somewhere...?

No one was saying one way or the other around her, and the only times her gagged had been removed to allow her to drink water, no one would answer her questions.

Then she heard a man -- over an intercom or bull horn? -- call out, "Remain on the pavement and no harm will come to you!"

A long moment passed, during which Alice heard a man scream, the man with the bull horn repeat his demand, and the man she recognized as the kidnapper's leader calling, "Who are you, and what do you want?"

"You are transporting slaves to the market in Mapleton, yes?"

Mapleton...? Well, that explained their destination. She been to the little town on the Siuslaw River often as a child but not in the past few years. Her father had been a salmon fisher, and Alice had accompanied him on dozens of weekend trips to the river that dumped into the Pacific Ocean at Florence, ten miles or so to the west.

But in her teens, with her boobs and curves developing -- as was the interest coming from the boys in school -- Alice gave up fishing for such things as cheer squad, dance club, and just plain old flirting about.

The militia leader began, "We are taking criminals to Militia Headquarters..."

Criminals...? Criminals...??? What the hell was he talking about? Alice was no criminal. She hadn't broken a law in all her life. She was just a … well, nothing really anymore.

She'd been a nurse in a Eugene hospital for a few years prior to the plague; and when she wasn't working, she was taking care of the school age daughter and son of her older sister, who had died in a car crash a few years earlier.

When the plague hit, Alice did what she could for the patients flooding the hospital. It became obvious to her early on that she was immune to the virus, and she could have gone on working in the hospital. But the death and despair had been all too overwhelming. One day as she got off her extended 16 hour shift, Alice snuck out of town and toward the coastal mountains.

She had made emergency plans with an old boyfriend, Richard, and a week after she's fled they were finally together. He'd joined a community of surviving Immunes, and it seemed as though they would be safe in a tiny little town north of Drain, Oregon.

And then she'd been snatched.

Richard had been part of her kidnapping, Alice was sure. He hadn't been in bed when the intruders attacked; and there'd been no sign or sound of him during the hour or so that she was still in the little town before the truck left. What had he gotten for turning over a beautiful, young nurse?

Alice listened as well as she could to what was happening outside the truck's tarp cover. There was a gunshot, causing Alice to flinch in fear.

After a moment, the tail gate of the truck fell, the tarp was opened, and the hostages were being unloaded. The militia leader called out, "Now what?"

Alice looked around after she reached the ground. They were in the middle of nowhere, on a curving road flanked by thick forests on both sides. And there was a man in the forest calling out on a bullhorn.

"Which of you women are or were mothers, or were caretakers for younger siblings or other children before the Plague...? …… Raise your hands if you have experience with children."

Alice did, of course. But she didn't raise her hand. It was bad enough that she'd been taken hostage in the middle of the night and was now possibly looking at becoming a sex slave. But to be sold to some stranger in the woods who was looking for … for what? A nanny?

Then, as she realized that this man in the woods was not a friend of the men who had captured her, Alice began to wonder whether or not he might be a better alternative. Plus, there might be a better opportunity of escaping with this man and his cohorts. He had cohorts, didn't he?

So, Alice raised her hands. And a moment later some other women did the same. And the man in the woods selected her.

But the militia leader wasn't having any of that. Alice heard him arguing with the man in the woods. Suddenly, another shot rang out. Alice dropped to her knees and leaned forward in a near fetal position. The conversation between the men continued, followed by the leader's whispering of attack orders to the men flanking him.

Alice was looking right at the leader when his skull suddenly exploded. Blood and brains sprayed out behind him, the result of a powerful bullet entering the front side of his skull.

In all her life, before and after becoming a nurse, Alice had never seen a gunshot victim, let alone something like this. It was as gruesome as anything she'd ever seen on the television medic and fire shows.

The man called over the bullhorn again, "Do as I ordered!"

Alice sort of lost track of what was happening after that. The other woman -- younger by half a dozen years -- and the boy -- who was the same age as the younger woman but looked barely 16 -- urged her inside the truck. Soon, they were once again heading down the road.

They stopped repeatedly, and when they stopped the last time and the door opened, she got her first look at the man who'd kidnapped her away from the other kidnappers. He smiled politely and said, "Welcome to the family."

Alice just stared, confused. The man was accompanied by four young children. Looking about the area, Alice saw no mom-types. Had this man kidnapped these children, too? Or had his wife died, leaving him with four children to raise on his own.

The youngest of the children looked right at Alice, smiled broadly, and waved frantically as if seeing a beloved parent or grandparent after so long apart. Alice didn't know what to say.

However, the girl to her left didn't have that problem. She almost immediately asked, "What the fuck is going on here?"
 
"My name is Henry Palmer," the man with the shotgun said politely, eying all three of the people in the truck. Then, looking directly at the younger of the two women, he added, "I would prefer you refrain from profanity in the presence of the young children."

He gave the younger woman a hard, serious stare, then looked to the other two newcomers. He gestured to the little ones and explained, "This is my family. My children in a sense, though, none share my blood. They are all Immunes, as I presume you are. These children have come to me by various ways over the eight months since the start of the Plague. And I have given them all my protection, just I will give each of you my protection as well."

He looked to the children again before returning his eyes to the newcomers and explaining, "But I have come to realize that I cannot care for them on my own. I would like to invite you to join the family as well."

"You took us by force," the boy in the truck pointed out quickly. "How is that any different than what those pricks-- those other guys did?"

Henry ignored the young man's foul word, gave him a friendly smile, and slung the rifle over his shoulder as to give the appearance of no longer being a threat to them. He nodded his head down the road and answered, "The difference is simple. You are welcome to leave any time you wish. Leave now, if you'd like. I won't stop you. Just … keep an eye out for the Mapleton Militia, the guys you're talking about, that took you by force and were going to sell you into slavery."

He gave the three a moment to contemplate on that thought, then said, "You need to make a decision quickly, though. The Militia will come back this direction to look for their truck, cargo, and you."

He unslung the rifle, set the butt on the ground next to him, and leaned it to the eldest of the children. "Hold this, Honey, while the others help me unload the truck, okay?"

"Yes, Papa," the 9 year old said softly, latching onto the gun that stood as tall as she did.

Henry stepped closer to the truck, telling them, "If you are staying, we need to go through this cargo and see what's worth taking. We've got a long walk ahead of us, and I'd like to get home before the sun goes down."
 
"My name is Henry Palmer......"

Alice listened to all the man had to say and found herself conflicted. If what he was offering was real, she would be an idiot to pass on it. Oh, she didn't have to stay here forever; she could slip out one day and try to get back to her little community near Drain … and slit Richard's throat!

But what if this was just a more friendly version of enslavement?

The man handed over his rifle to the young girl, which caused a shiver to rush through Alice's body. What was he doing handing a presumably loaded firearm to a little girl? And yet, the girl seemed totally comfortable with handling the weapon. The new world in which we live, Alice thought to herself.

"If you are staying...…" he began, explaining the work ahead of them. He grasped a hand rail and boosted himself up into the truck.

The teenaged boy to Alice's left watched the man as he began inventorying the cargo. He looked to Alice again, then shrugged. "He seems nice enough. Real. What's that word, starts with a 'g'?"

"Genuine," Alice answered, smiling. She looked to Henry, whose attention was on the loot and not at all on the three people he'd kidnapped and then invited to become part of his family. She murmured, more to herself than to the boy, "The word is genuine."

"This is bullshit," the younger of the two new females said as she suddenly swung down out of the truck and disappeared around its side.

"Wait!" Alice called out as she, too, jumped down and moved to the driver's side. She could see the girl sprinting down the road at top speed. "Wait! Don't go back down there!"

But the girl was gone. Alice looked back up into the truck's cargo area for Henry's response...
 
"This is bullshit."

Henry turned from checking the loot to catch just a last glimpse of the girl swinging out of the truck. The older woman followed her without delay, and after hollering at the other not to go, she stepped back into Henry's view, looking for his response.

"It's her choice," he said simply. He tried to hide his disappointment but feared he'd failed. The extra hand to help with the increasing work load would have been a great addition to the family; the fact that the escapee was an Immune female of child bearing age was an additional loss as well. He told the older woman before he returned to looking through the loot, "I won't force her to stay with us."

"What can I do?" the boy asked, stepping closer to Henry. He stuck his hand out, smiling as he said, "I'm Samuel."

Henry took the teen's hand. "Nice to meet you, Samuel."

He turned back toward the truck's tail end to see his children becoming active. He gestured to the kids one after another as he introduced them...

"This is Honey," he said, gesturing to the 9 year old girl who had by now leaned the rifle up against the truck's side so that she could help unload. He pointed to the 8 year old boy now climbing up into the truck. "This is Buck."

The boy pressed his fisted hands to his temples with their index fingers extended upwards. Henry chuckled, explaining, "Horns. Some of the children wanted to choose new names when they joined the Family. He likes deer, so. Here, Buck, we'll take this."

Henry handed the boy a box filled with packaged foods, mostly noodle and rise items. As Buck passed the box to Honey, Henry gestured toward the 6 year old girl struggling to get up into the truck without the need of assistance, saying, "This is Chipmunk. Probably no explanation required there. We usually call her Monkey, though. Chipmunk, munk, monkey."

The little girl made a comical squeaking sound as she mimicked a monkey scratching itself, then giggled. Henry offered her a cloth shopping bag filled with apples. When Monkey took it, the weight caused the bag to hit the deck. Again, the girl giggled, struggling to lift the bag before turning to meet Buck at the end of the cargo hold.

"And out there is Daisy," Henry said, nodding toward the toddler standing all alone, again smiling and waving energetically toward Alice. "We all sorta picked a name for her after she went nuts in a daisy patch at the outset of spring."

In no time at all, the loot from the truck was being efficiently removed from the cargo hold and stuffed into backpacks the Family had brought with them specifically for this mission. Henry was happily surprised at what the truck contained: packaged, canned, and bottled food and drink; first aid gear, clothes, blankets; ropes, tools, wiring, and other building materials and even ammunition, though not nearly as much for which he'd hoped and very little of it usable in the firearms he already had.

As the packs were filled, Henry and the older two children began running off into the woods one at a time and in different directions. A couple of minutes later each would return with his or her arms empty. He explained, "If we separate the caches, we lose less if one of them is found. We'll come back for it all later."

As Monkey took Daisy's hand and moved her out of the way, Henry ordered the others to grab hold of something. He snatched up the rifle and jumped behind the wheel of the delivery van, drove it about sixty yards down the road, stopped, and backed up curving until the open end of the truck was sticking out over the edge of the road. He leaped out and navigated his way down into the ditch, which was filled with four foot tall sword ferns.

"Okay, begin tossing me stuff," he told them. For the next several minutes, anything that could be safely thrown out to Henry was so: boxes, bags, individual items; anything that he could catch without hurting himself. When everything Henry wanted to fill this last cache with was out, he rearranged the tall ferns as best he could to hide the cache. He then returned to the cab and pulled away from the ditch before returning to the tail end once more. "Everyone out."

After they were all out, Henry looked to Alice and Samuel and said, "Buck and Honey know the way. Stick with them. Help the little ones. I'll be right behind you, after I ditch the truck. Go!"

He hurried back into the truck's cab and was off. In the rear view mirror, he watched the others, particularly Alice. He knew this had to be confusing for her; he didn't know her back story -- didn't know about this Richard guy down south near the small town of Drain -- but he knew there had to be a lot going through her mind.

A few minutes later, as he hurried the truck around a bend in the woods, Henry smiled at the sight of the teenage girl. She must have heard the approaching truck because she was running frantically down the road. Henry carefully pulled up along side of her, then continued onward without stopping or speaking to her. Another half mile down the road, he stopped the truck, turned it again until the tail gate was over the side of the road, put it in neutral, and leaped out. The truck rolled backward, off the road. But rather than a ditch being behind it, there was a 40 degree incline that went down into a 250 foot deep canyon. It had been logged a dozen years ago and replanted; the trees filling the slope were only a handful of feet tall but their evergreen foliage filled the landscape.

The truck picked up speed, rolling over the little trees which sometimes broke and other times simply bent over, then sprung back up. The truck disappeared, crashing through the brush until a final horrific sound told Henry that it had rolled to its side and hit something solid, perhaps a boulder or huge stump. He head back up the road...

...eventually coming to a curve in a tall section of second growth wood and finding the girl standing still and looking at him. Henry stopped, half turned, and waved a hand in polite invitation past him. "I'm not here to stop you. I was only getting rid of the truck."
 
Back at the unload sight:

In response to the fleeing teenaged girl, Henry said, "It's her choice …… I won't force her to stay with us."

Alice was less concerned about the girl being forced to stay here than she was with what might happen to her if she ran up against the militia that had initially taken them hostage. The young woman was a cute thing with a shapely body; she'd certainly be sold off to some powerful man with an insatiable lust or find herself servicing militiamen one after another until she couldn't take it anymore and killed herself.

But Henry had gone back to his work, seeming unconcerned. So, Alice hopped in as well, joining the boy who introduced himself as Samuel in packing a variety of school bags and hiking back packs with what ever she was handed.

When they were all done, Henry surprised Alice by indicating that she was to stay and he was leaving. A bit of panic filled her, though, she was really sure why.

"Stick with them. Help the little ones. I'll be right behind you, after I ditch the truck. Go!"

And then he was just gone, driving away down the road. The others were hurrying to fill their backs and arms with all they could carry. Samuel smiled broadly as he hurried by, telling her, "This is kind of exciting, actually."

Alice watched the truck disappear, then turned … to find little Daisy holding her arms out, anxious to be picked up. Alice smiled, then chuckled. She caught sight of Honey nodding her to the toddler, then hurried forward to lift her up.

"I guess you're with me, darling," she said as the little girl clutched her arms around Alice's neck. Buck, who was tall for his age, helped Alice into one of the backpacks as she alternated arms holding the little girl. When Honey called from the edge of the woods, Alice responded, "Right behind you."

She gave one last look down the road to see only the last wisps of road dust wafting off into the woods. The turned and followed behind the others.


Down the road:

Camille had run until she was out of breath, slowly to realize that she was beginning to sweat as well. She'd looked back over her shoulders several times, expecting pursuit. And yet, no one came after her.

Then, a couple of miles or more down the road, she heard the truck. It was difficult to tell what direction it was coming from at first. Then, she knew, and she began running down the road yet again.

It didn't take long to understand that this was a waste; the truck was coming up fast, and with the road cutting across the side of a steep hill, there was no where else to go except straight up a cliff or down the one opposite it.

She finally just stopped and turned to face the truck. Cami saw that it was Henry behind the wheel, as expected. She assumed he would stop and bind her and throw her in the truck. But instead, he just drove right by here, barely looking out at her as he passed.

Cami just stood in place for a while, unsure of what to do next. She started walking down the road again, and after a couple of minutes she was looking at Henry again … and his rifle, again.

But he stepped aside and wave her by. "I'm not here to stop you. I was only getting rid of the truck."

Cami hesitated, not trusting him. She began toward him slowly, her path taking her across to the other side of the road by the time she reached their least distance of separation.

She stopped, staring at Henry for a long moment. "How do I know you aren't going to turn me into your own personal sex toy if I stay with you?"
 
Back at the unload sight:

Down the trail they went: 9 year old Honey with a day hike back pack and, in her arms, other goods wrapped and bound in a blanket; behind her, 6 year Monkey, grasping a rope tied to Honey's waist, helping pull her along as she carried some loot in a Hello Kitty school pack on her back; Samuel, who looked 15 or 16 but had actually turned 18 six days ago, was loaded down just as Honey was; behind him, was 8 year old Buck, loaded front and back but also carrying four long handled tools over his two shoulders; and last but not least, Alice, with a pack on her back and Daisy on her front.

The going was easy at the first, the parade of people following a deer trail that only occasionally was interrupted by tree limbs or downed trees. Then Honey took a hard left into the thick evergreen foliage, forcing her way through the trees for nearly 100 feet before the limbs thinned and they were once again on a deer path, though this time not nearly as obvious or easy to navigate. They followed this path for more than an hour, stopping every 10 minutes or so to rest, drink water, and sometimes snack on some of the newly found goodies.

They left the up and down again deer path and for almost a hundred yards ascended a steep, gravelly incline between two tall hills. At the top was another thick section of trees, 100 feet or so, then...

Suddenly, they forest opened up to reveal an open, grassy meadow about the shape of a football, 200 yards long by 80 yards wide. It was obvious that a farmstead had once been here: there was a farmhouse, barn, chicken coop, and other out buildings; off to one side was a small, unkempt vineyard, and to the other was a small orchard of fruit trees and a small grove of nut trees. Most of the buildings looked ready to fall over; it was obvious that the farm had been long abandoned. But just as obviously, the farmstead had potential, otherwise Henry wouldn't have made this remote location a farm for all these young people.

"Welcome to our home," Buck told Samuel and Alice as they stopped side by side to look out upon the scene. He smiled, obviously content here, and gestured them onward. "C'mon. Let's get this stuff put away, and I'll show you around while Honey takes care of the girls."

The inside of the house was as run down as the outside: old lathe and plaster walls were crumbling; portions of the floor were water had penetrated the roof were rotten and fallen through, though, many had already been removed and covered over with other things, from plywood to metal sheets; wall paper hung loose in dozens of places; and most of the windows sported broken glass where someone long ago had had their fun, throwing rocks or slinging them with wrist rockets or whatever tickled their fancy at the time.

"C'mon," Buck said, gesturing Alice and Samuel to follow. They made their way carefully through the house to a back room on the first floor. He took the glass chimney off an old fashion oil lantern and lit it with a Bic lighter. Turning up the wick, the room -- darkened with plywood and plastic sheeting over the windows -- lit up to reveal its purpose. "Papa says this was a parlor once, what ever that was. But we use it as a bedroom, 'cause it's the only part of the house that doesn't leak rain or get drafty from the wind."

There were no bed frames, mattresses, or box springs, but there were beds. The Family had created beds out of a multitude of sleeping bags, sheets, and blankets. The biggest bed -- two similar sleeping bags zipped together as one -- even had Styrofoam pads underneath.

"Papa sleeps there with Daisy and Monkey," Buck explained, pointing at the doubled-up bags. Pointing to the others, he continued, "That one's mine, and the other one's Honey's, though, when its really cold, or when the lightning's bad, like it was a couple of days ago, sometimes we all end up together in the one bed."

Buck chuckled, then blushed a bit at admitting that sometimes he got scared by Mother Nature. He turned for the door again, saying, "Let's get everything put away before Papa get's back."



Down the road:

The young woman asked, "How do I know you aren't going to turn me into your own personal sex toy if I stay with you?"

Henry couldn't help but smile, then chuckle. He looked the young thing up and down, then told her, "If I'd needed a sex toy that bad, I wouldn't have let you run off, would I?"

He gave her a moment to consider that before adding, "Besides, if I'd wanted someone in my bed for my personal satisfaction, I probably would have chosen one of the older women … someone who knew what she was doing between the sheets … not a little girl like yourself."

Henry smirked a bit, knowing that she wouldn't like that but at the same time not really caring. As he turned and started up the road again, he said over his shoulder, "If you're coming, maybe you could tell me your name."
 
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On the trail:

Alice had always had a good work ethic, and she'd always been in good shape; she'd begun three triathlons (though, honestly, she'd only finished one of them) and she exercised almost every day, sometimes twice a day in different areas of fitness.

But even she was getting wiped out by the walk through the forest. The combination of the load -- a heavy back pack and Daisy, too -- combined with wildness of the undeveloped trail had her back and legs aching long before they'd reached their destination.

Once they emerged from the forest to see the farm, she was both delighted and disappointed both. The scene was idyllic, a large pasture land surrounded by forest with a small stream running down its middle and a homestead almost dead in the center.

But the homestead itself … well … as they approached it and she got an up close look at it, Alice's first thought was Dear God, don't let the wind blow or it'll fall right down on top of us.

"How long have you been living here?" she asked Honey as the group was navigating the rotting porch as to not fall through it. The girl answered and Alice just shook her head. Inside, she again found herself shocked that the whole structure hadn't already collapsed. "I can see now why your father needs help."

Buck showed them to the bedroom, which wasn't nearly as bad off. Of course, if the rest of the farm house came down around them, what good did this one relatively suitable room matter?

With the exception of Daisy, who dropped on a mattress to play with some rag dolls, the whole group set about putting the loot from the box truck away. Alice was again conflicted at the home's current inventory; there were some things in great abundance, but at the same time there was an obvious lack of other things that every pre-plague home -- particularly one with young children -- would have stocked out of pure habit, let alone necessity.


On the road:

The man with the shotgun headed back up the road down which Camille had just descended, acting as though he seriously didn't care whether or not she joined him. Camille was baffled; boys and men alike had always yearned for her company, and now -- after the end of the world had begun -- they had fought over her to the death, literally, and then even taken her hostage with the intent of selling her.

It was odd to see a man walking away from her, with no apparent interest in having her company.

"You're really not going to force me into some sort of kinky sex slave shit?" she hollered after Henry as the distance between them increased. He responded in his way, barely looking back over his shoulder. She hollered even louder at him, "I don't believe you! You know that, right?"

Camille continued to just watch him march up the hill until he'd reached the curve in the gravel road and was about to disappear. Looking down the road in the opposite direction, she tried to contemplate what awaited her that way. Without friends or family -- without a strong lover -- to protect her and keep her safe, Camille knew what her fate would be. This new world didn't give a rat's ass about women; there was no chivalry or rights; a woman was just a body with two wet, warm holes in which those in charge -- mean, brutal men -- wished to put their cocks.

Camille looked back up the road to see nothing but gravel and trees … then began running after Henry. She curled past the first curve in time to see him reaching a second, then slowed to a fast walk. She didn't want to look too eager to join with a man who had stolen her from slavers.

The distance between them had been slowly and consistently decreasing, with Camille eying Henry in between glances out at the land laid out below the coastal hill. She'd just about caught up with him when she called out with a slightly desperate tone, "Hey, do you have any water? I'm thirsty. Henry, right? Do you have any water, Henry?"
 
Honey, at the house:

"How long have you been living here?"

Honey turned to Alice but didn't immediately answer. Papa hadn't really told the others in the Family how much they were supposed to tell the new people. He'd been planning on getting them help for the farm and for the younger children for the last month or so, but honestly, the Family hadn't been told much about how that was going to happen or what was supposed to happen once he'd succeeded, if he'd succeeded. He had, of course, which was fantastic as far as Honey knew. This grown up woman probably knew a lot more about taking care of kids than Papa did, even though he'd done a great job so far. And this new boy, or man, Honey didn't know; he would probably be able to help Papa with a lot of the heavy, hard work that the children hadn't been or weren't allowed to do, like rebuilding the house and barn and such.

She answered Alice's question with a simple, "Since the flu."


Samuel, at the house:

"This place is a pit," the teen whispered toward Alice as he idly walked about, passing by her in a hallway. He could see in her eyes that she felt the same. He chuckled and whispered, "Thinking slavery might not have been so bad after all."

Samuel joined Buck in helping put away the loot they'd hauled through the forest. He asked the boy who was half his age give or take whether this was something they did a lot, stopping and robbing trucks filled with armed soldiers.

"Is that what Papa did?" the boy asked, oblivious to what had happened down on the road.

Samuel wasn't sure whether or not he should say more, so he switched subjects. "So, a farm, huh? Do you guys have, like, chickens and ducks and turkeys and pigs and whatever?"

"Not yet," Buck told him as they stocked away some canned and packaged foods. "I mean, we have a rooster and a couple of chickens, and there're rabbits running wild all over the place. Papa says they used to be tame … not pets, but for food, I mean. The rabbits. He says we're gonna catch them and breed them and we'll always have something to eat."

Buck peeked around a corner, then looked back to Samuel and whispered, "We're not supposed to tell the girls that, though. I mean, Honey knows. But not Monkey or Daisy."

Samuel gestured his acknowledgement of the secret, then asked, "So, how'd you all end up here? Henry said back at the truck that you all aren't his kids, real kids, I mean."

Unlike Honey, Buck was eager to talk about the Family and how they came to be. "My real dad … my dead dad, he was friends with Papa. We all call him Papa now, though, I don't know if you have to, you know, 'cause you're so big'n'all. Anyway, when the flu started and my dad got sick, Papa -- his name's Henry, but I think you knew that -- Papa promised my dad that he'd take care of me if anything happened. It did, obviously."

Buck gestured Samuel to follow him down the hall until they could see the rest of the Family -- excluding Daisy, who was sound asleep in bed -- as they simultaneously continued putting things away and making a meal of some of the new items.

"Honey was alone when we found her," Buck continued. "She was hiding in a house that Papa and I hid in one night. We found Daisy and Monkey -- Chipmunk is her real new name, really -- we found them in a car. They are real sisters. There mother was in the front seat..."

Buck didn't finish that thought. He continued instead, "Papa told us he knew a place where we would be safe. We just had to trust him and do as he said. He fed us and protected us from bad men. There were others with us for a while, but … well, I, I don't really know what happened to them."

He gestured his hands toward the home's interior and finished, "And we came here. It's not as good as where I lived with my dad, but no one can hurt us here. I think. That's what Papa says. He says the road that used to come here doesn't work anymore or something. The only way here is through the forest, and no one but us knows how to get here that way."

The two of them chatted on for a bit more until Honey snapped at them for not helping. They jumped in, and after all the new stuff was put away, they all sat down around an already hot cast iron wood stove to eat their dinner.

Henry, on the road:

"You're really not going to force me into some sort of kinky sex slave shit?"

Henry glanced back over his shoulder at the young woman and chuckled to himself. He called back, "Kinky...? No, not kinky. Maybe just regular old sex slave shit."

He turned his head back forward to watch his path, then called back again, "I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to do. Make a decision already."

A moment later she hollered, "I don't believe you! You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know that," Henry said, his volume decreasing with each word as he really didn't care whether or not she heard him. He continued on, looking back to see that the girl was still just standing in place. He asked with an annoyed tone, "You comin'?"

Eventually, Henry heard the girl's footsteps behind him; and eventually once again, she was almost walking with him, following on the other side of the gravel road a pace or so behind him. Henry half glance a few times but never really turned to eye her directly. They traveled in silence until they were nearly to the spot in the road where the delivery van's tires had disturbed the gravel on the shoulder.

"Hey, do you have any water?" she asked. "I'm thirsty. Henry, right? Do you have any water, Henry?"

He continued on without a response until he reached the cache. Setting the rifle on the edge of the road, Henry slid through the loose gravel down into the ditch and began searching around in the tall sword ferns. After a moment he stood, caught the girl's eyes, then with an underhand softball pitch tossed her a bottle of some store brand sport's drink with a softball pitch.

"There's grape, too," he said holding up a second bottle. "Drink up, then come down here and help me load up some stuff to take back."
 
Alice, at the house:

Since the flu, Alice mused regarding Honey's answer about how long the family had been living here. Makes sense; if the trek through the forest was the only way to get here, this place was probably one of the safest places for such young people to be living, particularly with only one adult guardian.

Of course, there was a driveway outside; overgrown with weeds, but a driveway none the less. And that implied an automobile, and an automobile implied a road out of here. Alice wondered whether that direction was secure, and she wanted to ask, but she felt it wiser to save such questions for Henry.

They finished putting away the shopping, and as Honey made dinner, Alice went to check on Daisy. She was passed out face down on the doubled up sleeping bag with a rag doll clutched in her hands while she unconsciously chewed on its ear. Alice covered Daisy with a loose blanket and pulled the cloth from her mouth, then returned to sit and eat with the others.



Camille, on the road:

Catching the bottle in both hands, Camille told Henry that Orange was fine. She screwed off the top, tipped it to her lips, and sucked down most of the bottle before lowering it once again. She didn't realize just how thirsty she'd been until this moment. She finished off the bottle in three more gulps, eying Henry as she did.

"My name is Camille, by the way," she said, finally answering the question Henry had asked two miles down the hill. "Most people call me Cami."

She finished off the bottle and tossed it on the road. ""So, what the hell is your story?"

Before he could respond, Camille waggled her fingers toward Henry. "Is there another one? Grape sounds good."
 
At the house:

The Family was finishing eating -- the largest, most balanced meal they'd had in weeks -- and were putting that last things away when Monkey entered the bedroom and sat next to Alice.

"Are you going to be my new mommy?" the 6 year old asked innocently … and a bit hopefully, too.



Henry, on the road:

After she'd introduced herself, Henry said politely, It's nice to meet you, Camille."

She tossed the empty bottle on the road and asked bluntly, "So, what the hell is your story?"

She asked for another drink, and Henry found and tossed her another one, grape as requested.

"My story...?" he mused. As he began stuffing a knapsack with some of the goods dumped into the tall ferns, he answered slowly, "I survived the plague. I rescued some children who needed help. I found a house hidden in the mountains at which I believe we will be safe."

Henry looked up at Camille, standing on the shoulder above him. She was a beautiful young thing, well shaped, with a fiery head of red and lightly freckled skin. He could most definitely see himself laying her back on his doubled up sleeping bag for a satisfying fuck, using her for -- what did she call it? -- kinky sex slave shit?

"And I rescued you," he continued, returning to his work on yet a second bag, this one a cloth grocery shopping bag. "You and the other two. And before you ask ... no, I don't expect anything sexual from you for that. I would like help with the children … maybe some work around the farm, nothing too radical. I'm not looking for a housewife. Just … help. Pitch in, do your share, and we'll all get a long really well."

Henry looked up at Camille again and smiled. "Family. That's what I'm trying to create. Becoming family is going to be the only way we survive this apocalypse."
 
Alice, at the house:

She laughed, quick and sharp, shocked at the young child's blunt and unexpected question. She repeated it, as if unsure it had been asked, "Am I going to be your mommy?"

Monkey nodded her head and smiled wide.

Alice contemplated the question for a moment, recalling both Henry's questions about experience with child rearing at the ambush and his introduction at the end of the long drive of the Family. Even though she hadn't had time to sit and talk with Henry about that which he'd made her a part without any input from her, Alice was pretty sure that a mother to these children was exactly that for which the man had been searching.

Alice decided to ask a question rather than answer one. "Would you want me to be your mommy?"


Camille, on the road:

As Henry told his story, he said, "And I rescued you..."

"Well, that remains to be seen, I think," Camille murmured. She'd said it just loud enough for Henry to hear, but instead of respond he continued on with his explanation of what he expected from her, Alice, and Samuel, who she'd introduced herself to during the rocking and rolling ride through the curvy mountains.

Henry continued, "Family. That's what I'm trying to create. Becoming family is going to be the only way we survive this apocalypse."

She watched as he finished loading some bags, glancing when he wasn't looking at the rifle sitting on the shoulder. At one point when he turned his back entirely to the weapon, she quietly over and picked it up. Henry must have heard her shuffling in the loose gravel; he turned around in time to see her picking it up, lifting it into position, and aiming it directly at his chest.

After a long moment of staring over the top of the barrel at him, she shifted off him and looked down to inspect it. "Open sights. I'm impressed. You hit that toy soldier smack between the eyes. How far away do you think you were?"

Camille hesitated to see if Henry would answer, then inspected the gun further. "You need to clean and oil this. It's filthy."

She pointed the end of the barrel down a bit and jacked back the bolt. A round flew straight up, turning end over end until Camille snatched it out of the air. She looked to the end of the casing.

"My father had a .30-06 like this, only, his was a Karabiner 98, with a scope," Camille said, looking back to Henry. "I could put 3 out of 5 shots inside the 5 circle at 100 yards. Course, that was with a nine-by scope, in a resting position."

She pressed the loose cartridge back down inside the magazine, slammed the bolt home, then cycled it once again to ensure there was round chambered. Slinging the rifle over her shoulder, Camille held a hand out and asked, "We should be going, right? Am I carrying one of those?"
 
At the house:

Alice asked Monkey, "Would you want me to be your mommy?"

The six year old didn't hesitate to surge forth, slamming into the crouching woman and throw her arms around her neck. "Yes! You should be my mommy."

Honey -- who had just stepped into the open doorway -- chastised, "Chipmunk, shush. Daisy's sleeping. What are you doing?"

Monkey hugged the laughing Alice tighter, telling her sister, "Alice is going to be our mommy."

Honey stared at the pair in silence for a moment, then just turned and walked away. Monkey pulled back to look Alice in the eyes and said playfully, "Honey is a poop sometimes. I'm going to go tell the others."

The girl turned and hurried away. No sooner had Monkey cleared the doorway than Samuel stepped into it. He asked what had happened, and Alice told him. His expression soured a bit, then he smiled. "Well that's good for the little kids, isn't it? I'm happy for them."

He smiled again, then turned and left. Out on the front porch, he wondered in more formal terms, If Alice adopts them, does that mean she'll marry Henry? Samuel hoped not. After all, she was the only adult female in the Family; he didn't know that Camille was returning, obviously. And if Alice married Henry -- or was in some other way attached to him -- then what was Samuel going to do for sex?

For almost two hours, Samuel had followed Alice down the trail from the unloading zone to the house. Two hours … staring at that unbelievable ass in those tight fitting, worn-bottom jeans. He was an adult now; he'd turned 18 almost a week ago. He didn't know whether the old rules about adults and minors having sex still applied; if today was ten days ago, could Alice have taken his virginity without being jailed for statutory rape? Hell, what was he thinking; they'd very nearly been sold into slavery for no reason at all, so why was he worrying about something like losing his virginity to a 20-something beauty just days before his 18th birthday.

Point was, he was 18 now, and Alice wasn't that much older than he was. What, 24? 26? Maybe but unlikely 28. Suddenly aware that his cock was hard as a rock and pressing the crotch of his pants outward, Samuel peeked back to the house for prying eyes. He arranged himself more comfortably, they descended the porch to go take a walk around the property. There weren't a lot of surprises: it was rundown as he'd expected; and the structures surrounding the house were the typical farm buildings. It did have potential, though: barn, chicken coop; some other type of bird structure (with chicken wire closing over the top as well; a small building of cages, likely for Buck's future rabbit ranch, and more.

There was a creek that circled around the homestead's edge, and -- after finding a tiny, beached dock and evidence of sediment layers along the shore -- Samuel knew that it had once been dammed to produce a small pond. (He couldn't know, but the former owners -- prior to the plague -- had released all the water in an attempt to rid the pond of the non-native African bull frogs that had wiped out just about every other species of animal living in the body of water.)

Yeah, this could be a nice place to live. If only he had a girlfriend...



On the road:

Henry was sure he'd fucked up when he saw Camille hurrying to and picking up the rifle. But she surprised him with her knowledge of firearms and then her slinging of the rifle over her shoulder, relieving him of his fear of imminent death.

"Am I carrying one of those?"

He lifted the four bags and ascended the shoulder. Setting the bags down, he slung one onto his back, then casually took the rifle off Camille's shoulder and fitted her with a pack. He split the cloth grocery bags between them and, with a smile and a slight shaking of his head but without a word, he turned and headed up the road again.

(FYI: Done for the day likely.)
 
On the road:

They walked in silence back to the site where Camille had first leaped out of the box van. They took a break, eating and drinking from one of the stashes before heading down the trail the others had already walked.

Just as Samuel's gaze had been set on Alice's ass during his walk, Camille found her own eyes studying Henry's backside. He was an attractive man, rugged, a bit rough; she could picture him in some labor intensive job, something requiring strength and endurance, maybe working on a fishing boat like in those Dangerous Catch un-reality shows or slinging veneer for a twelve hour shift in a plywood mill. Farmer maybe, or logger.

She hoped he had a big dick, because assuming nothing -- or no one, Alice -- got in the way of it, Camille had already decided that she was gonna fuck her presumed savior.

She engaged Henry in some casual conversation along the way, asking about his questions about child rearing, about the stashes, about his Family, about their destination.

Then, as had happened with Alice and Samuel, she emerged from the woods to get her first look at what she presumed was to be her new home. What a dump! was her first thought. She'd rather live in a single wide trailer house … and she'd never wanted something that horrid.

"It's quaint … homey," she told Henry as they arrived at the rickety porch steps. The sarcasm -- or maybe just disappointment -- was obvious in her tone. "Better than a whore house in Mapleton, I guess."

(OOC: If nothing significant happens, she'll just go inside and hang with the others, get some food, whatever.)
 
At the home's porch:

"It's quaint … homey."

Henry caught Camille's tone, chuckling lightly as he responded softly, "It needs a little work."

She followed up with, "Better than a whore house in Mapleton, I guess."

"Well, I don't know you very well, Cami," he said, looking to her with a devilish smirk as he warned, "But after you learn that by a little work I actually mean a lot of work, you might just change your mind."

His lips widened a bit more before he turned and entered the house. As his children caught sight of him, they each reacted in their own way, from simple happiness in Honey's ever calm way to the explosive joy that was seemingly Monkey's inherent reaction to most things.

"Alice is going to be our new mommy!" she declared as she ran forward to be lifted up in Henry's arms. She kissed his cheek and asked, "Isn't that great, papa?"

Henry caught Alice's eye and studied her for a moment. It was hard to read what she herself thought of this revelation. He looked to Monkey and said, "Remember when you wanted your name to be Chipmunk 'cause you wished you could climb the side of a tree?"

As the girl shook her head, Henry continued, "Then you wanted it to be Monkey because you wished you had a tail?"

The whole story, of course, was that some of the children had mutated Chipmunk into just Munk, which became Monkey. But, a six year old only remembers what she wants, and now being reminded of it she again nodded her head. Henry told her, "Remember what I told you you had to do if you wanted to change your name again?"

The little girl stuck a hand up and manipulated her fingers until there were three of them splayed. "I had to wait this many days."

Henry glanced toward Alice, then back to the little girl. "So, I think we should give Alice three days to think about whether she wants to be your mommy. Maybe she doesn't want to be a mommy. Maybe she wants to be an aunt, or a big sister, or--"

"I have a big sister! Honey! And she's a poop 'cause she doesn't want Alice to be her mommy!" Monkey interrupted, her happy tone gone and replaced with a building frustration. "I don't want another big sister."

Henry set the now wriggling girl down on her feet and knelt to look into her face. He told her with a combined softness and firmness, "Three days."

Monkey stuck her bottom lip out, but when she saw it wasn't working on Henry, she suddenly smiled wide and said, "Okay, papa."

She hugged him, then ran to hug Alice, then disappeared into the house with a breakfast bar she snatched from a plate Honey had just filled on the kitchen table. Henry looked to Alice and shrugged his shoulders. He was about to move closer to her to discuss what had just happened, but Honey cut him off with an update of their new situation. Honey, despite being just 9, ran the house in a sense. She planned the meals based upon what they had available; she did a majority of the cooking, with Henry offering muscle or work with hot pots and pans when it was appropriate; she supervised such things as dish washing, garbage disposal, laundry, and more; and recently she'd even begun sharing skinning and cutting up the game the two men of the family shot or caught. (Buck had become quite a trapper over the past months, learning a dozen ways of making snares that had gained them meat from nutria, rabbit, squirrels, and more. They'd even caught a pair of feral dogs, though, Henry had told Buck it was better not to tell the girls what they were eating those nights.)


Meanwhile, outside:

Samuel had just rounded the dilapidated chicken coop as Henry was ascending the front steps of the house. He was able to call out a hello … when he caught sight of Camille, and his heart leaped with joy. Despite having been slated for imminent sale into slavery, the teenage boy hadn't failed to notice the sexy, slightly older girl on the chain two positions up from him. He'd been overjoyed to be included in the trio saved from the Militia; and he'd been destroyed to see the beauty run off down the road to get away from Henry and the unknown.

And now she was here again. He looked to the heavens and comically murmured, "Thank you, God."

As Camille was herself about to climb the steps, he called out to her and ran over. Excited, he said unnecessarily, "You came back!"

She responded, and Samuel followed up with, "I'm glad. Hey! Do you want a tour? I've been checking the place out. There's a lot to see."

If she said yes, Samuel would lead her around the farm; if she said no and went into the house, he would simply follow, wanting to see more of her.
 
In the house:

Alice felt a blush fill her face as she listened to Henry and the 6 year old talking about her place in the Family. He finished the conversation with, "Three days."

She could see that he was about to discuss it with her when Honey stepped in. When he glanced her way again, Alice mouthed Later, which Henry apparently accepted.



Meanwhile, outside:

Camille drew and slowly released a deep breath as the teenage boy came running across the now somewhat wild lawn to reach her. She'd grown up with such eagerness from boys; and as she'd worked through the second half of her teenage years, she'd begun to gain such attentions from men as well.

"You came back!" Samuel said with excitement when he reached her.

Camille only responded with, "Yes. I came back."

He invited her to take a walk about the homestead. Camille looked through the still open door to find Henry occupied with the children. He'd have no time for her for a while. She looked back to Samuel and reluctantly said, "Sure. Why not?"

He led her off away from the house. Camille knew Samuel was far more interested in seeing her than in showing her around. She didn't want to lead him on, though; he was just a boy, even if he was of legal age, which she didn't know one way or the other, of course.

No, if Camille was going to find some sexual pleasure in this place, she wanted to find it with Henry. But then, there was Alice. Would the patriarch of the Family be more interested in a woman closer to his age? Or did he like his pussy young, tight, and less experienced?

Just the thought caused Camille's lips to spread; Alice was in her mid to late 20s, she figured, and yet Camille had quite possibly been with more men than the older woman. Oh, Camille wasn't a slut, per se; she'd only been with, what, maybe 15 or 16 guys. She knew women her age who had been two or three times that many men. Hell, her dormitory room mate had been with a new guy almost every weekend of their two years at university, and that didn't include the ones with whom she bumped uglies mid-week.

They'd been around the coops and pens and through the barn when Camille stopped suddenly, looking with a stunned expression at the smallest of the structures she'd seen so far. She pointed and with shock asked, "Is that what I think it is...? An outhouse?"
 
Outside:

"Is that what I think it is...? An outhouse?"

Samuel's face filled with humorous surprise. "Well, of course it is. Out here, with no running water or sewage, where did you think you were going to go to the bathroom?"

Samuel laughed and started backing away from Camille, gesturing her to follow. "Come on, I got one more thing to show you."

He knew there was a possibility that the tour was over; the 20 year old's face showed the same disgust her tone had. But if she did follow, Samuel was eager to show her the now empty pond and the dam at the end of it. He'd taken a walk down there earlier and found that when the dam a water diversion turned a small generator. He didn't know if it worked, of course, but if it did -- or if it could be fixed -- the homestead could potentially have electricity. A little bit of civilization was better than none at all, right?
 
Outside:

"Come on, I got one more thing to show you."

"That's alright," Camille said with feigned happiness. "I've seen enough. It's starting to get chilly. Maybe we should head back inside."

She wasn't lying about the temperature; it was only early Spring, and with the sun just about to fall behind the trees in the west, it was going to be very cold very soon. She headed for the house, not really caring whether or not the family's second youngest male followed, as she was more interested in a little discussion with the eldest one instead.

Once inside, Camille looked about for Henry, finding him in the bedroom with a couple of the kids. They cleared out, running about as children do, and once the man looked up -- finding Camille leaning back against the door in a pose that accidentally showed off her curves a bit, she asked with just a touch of suggestive tone, "So … what are the sleeping arrangement, Henry. I mean, I'm sure it gets cold at night. I'm not going to be lucky enough to have your warm body near enough mine to share some body heat, am I?"

Camille's smile widened, then she laughed. She knew it wouldn't happen -- them sleeping together, with sleep being the operative word -- but she liked the idea of him contemplating such a thing, which she was sure he was.
 
Henry was arranging some of their backup bedding for the newly arrived when he caught sight of Camille at the door. He smiled politely to her before going back to his work.

"So … what are the sleeping arrangements, Henry," she began.

He looked to her as she talked suggestively, then returned her smile to her. He pulled some pillows out of the garbage bags that had been keeping them dry and tossed them onto the new bed. He gestured to the three new beds, saying, "You, Alice, and Samuel can fight over who gets the new beds. If you get cold and want feel you need some body heat, I'm sure one of the girls will crawl in with you."

As he passed by her heading for the kitchen, he added with his own smirk, "Of course, they kick and buck and roll incessantly during the nights sometimes, so, you decide."

They weren't all that bad, of course. But it had taken Henry a long time to learn to sleep next to Daisy and Monkey, the two children who more often than not slept on either side of him. The sleeping arrangements weren't at all fixed; sometimes the littler ones slept with Honey, and sometimes they all slept with Henry, particularly when the lightning and thunder hit. Recently, a mountain lion -- cougar, puma, or whatever you wanted to personally call it -- had moved into the neighborhood and would sometimes scream out in the night, likely seeking a mate. That had led to everyone slipping into Henry's doubled up sleeping bag often.

"Let's pack this up! Early to bed tonight," he told those in the kitchen who were involved in a number of chores or play time activities. Some complained that it wasn't even dark out yet, but Henry reminded them that they'd had a long day. "You're gonna suddenly start dropping from exhaustion before you've cleaned your faces and brushed your teeth, and you'll be sorry I didn't make you start getting ready for bed. Snap to it!"

One by one or in pairs, the four children hurried to the bathroom to prepare for bed. Henry had rerouted the piping in the house to fill a small tank on the second floor with water heated from the wood stove, so everyone got a warm rag run over they faces and scrubbed their hands with soap they'd gotten from the Militia loot today. With teeth brushed and sleeping pants on Daisy, they Family was hurried off to their beds. Monkey was excited about and even anxious over whether or not Alice was going to sleep with her, but Henry settled her down and told her the grown ups had to talk first. "Don't worry, she'll be coming to bed soon, and I'm sure she'll sleep close to you."

"With me, papa!" the six year old demanded.

They negotiated, as one did with a child that age, and finally the four children were settled down, and the other four went out to the kitchen where Henry invited them all to sit around the table for a chat. He opened a cabinet high on the wall and took down a six pack of canned beer, setting it on the table.

"Two of you might not be legal age for this," he joked as he pulled the cans from their plastic holders and set them a little closer to their recipients, "but things changed a few months ago, so, maybe we forget about such limitations and focus on what's important. Oh, and sorry, they're warm. Or, at least not cold. The house stays a bit chilly."

As he watched the other four take a can or not, Henry tapped the top of his can to cause the carbonation bubbles to rise to the top, then cracked the seal just enough to let the pressure bleed off. Once safe, he opened it fully, took a swig, and looked between those before him.

"Tomorrow morning, after breakfast, you are -- each and everyone of you -- free to leave and head off in whatever direction you wish," he began. He gave them just a moment to contemplate the idea, then continued, "I will provide you with a pack full of food and other supplies -- you know what we have as you helped bring it here today -- and you can … just … go."

He took another sip from his beer, then continued, "Or … if you want … you can live here. You can become part of this Family. You can be happy here. You can be safe here. You walked the trail … you know how hidden and secure it is. Hell, after I found this place, I lost it three times. Once it took me three days to find the place."

He smiled and chuckled, telling them he was serious before sipping again at his beer. He gestured off in a random direction, explaining, "There was a road coming in here once, of course, but the bridge was unsafe and closed and I think that had something to do with why the property was abandoned. I've checked the entire perimeter; I don't think we're going to have any surprise visitors, and even if we do, I have set up early warning sound makers that will alert us."

Henry glanced around to each of them again before continuing with an even more serious tone than he had been using. "The world out there is a dangerous one. You know this, all three of you. It's not like I kidnapped you from Disneyland. You were on your way to be sold into slavery."

He again looked into the eyes of each one of them, letting them contemplate the fates he interrupted. "You're not slaves here. But … there is work to be done if we are going to be happy and safe and secure and comfortable and all those other words that describe a good life. It's going to be hard work. But, it'll be worth it."

Henry looked around the kitchen, shaking his head a bit. It was one of only three rooms in the house on which he'd spent a lot of time renovating. He'd sealed the holes and gaps to keep out the cold and rain and repaired the weak parts in the floors; he'd ripped out the shelves and cupboards that were beyond repair and replaced them with wooden crates laid on their sides to create new shelving.

"This house, it might seem ready to fall over with the next heavy wind," he continued, chuckling a bit before looking back to the three. "But I assure you, we can make this place a home. If you want to be part of this. You can change your mind any time you want … leave any time you want. Just … give it a try."

"I will," Samuel said almost before Henry had finished. He looked around to the others, adding, "I like it here. I like old houses anyway. I grew up in one. But I always wanted to live on a farm, so, this is great!"
 
Alice:

Little did Camille know but Alice had been passing through the hall just out of her sight but well within earshot as the younger woman was making her suggestive remarks about who was sleeping where … and with whom.

She hesitated there in the hallway long enough to hear Henry's response, then smiled with delight; whether or not Henry would continue to keep the young, flirtatious beauty at arms length was to be seen, but for now it seemed clear to Alice that the man's only concern was making everyone comfortable.

Knowing Henry was coming this way, Alice stepped into the kitchen to interact with the children and cover for her eavesdropping. When he entered to hurry the kids through their end of day activities, she volunteered to help.

After the four Family members with ages of a single digit were finally down, she joined Henry, Camille, and Samuel in the kitchen. She neither reacted negatively to the man offering the minors a beer nor hesitated to open her own: concerning the first part, Alice had begun drinking socially at 14 and she'd turned out just fine; and concerning the second part, after the two days through which she'd just suffered, she could sit in a corner with the full six pack -- cold or not -- and be no less anxious than she was now.

"I will," Samuel responded almost immediately to Henry's invitation to stay on the homestead for a while.

Alice listened to the teen's comment about always having wanted to live on a farm and contemplated her own feelings about the subject. She'd lived in the 'burbs all her life, with her list of pets limited to a cat, a dog, a pair of guinea pigs, and a number of goldfish who never seemed to last very long.

"I will, too," she said, looking to Samuel and sharing his smile with him. "It might be nice to raise some chickens and rabbits and such."

She looked to Henry and continued, "You seem to already have most of the structures for doing that. We just need to fix them up."



Camille:

She knew where Henry was taking the conversation, and while she was less enthusiastic about it, Camille was willing to at least listen. Farming? Ranching? Hell, weren't such things dead and gone now with the end of the world.

All she'd seen since the plague erupted was theft and barter of quickly dwindling resources. Nothing new was being made; nothing new was being grown or raised. People scrounged what they could find and either used if personally or traded it for something else.

And no one kept much for long. Why should they? There was always someone who was going to steal it from you. Get a little bit of stuff, trade it for food, eat, repeat. That was life.

After Alice said what she had to say about fixing up the homestead, Camille spat out with a sarcastic tone, "Yeah...! Right."

Doing her best to mimic a down south drawl, she added, "Then, we can go down to the local feed'n'seed and buy us some hens and rabbits and all become farmers."

Looking to Henry, she asked with a discouraging tone, "Do you really think we're going to build a nice life here? With the world the way it is? Where are we going to get all of this stuff? Stuff to build with, animals to raise. Ain't like we can go down to Home Depot and pick up some chicken wire or nails."

Camille could see that she was stomping on Henry's dream a bit, and suddenly she felt a bit stupid. This was no way to charm the man into putting his cock inside her and falling madly in love with her … so that Camille could then get him wrapped around her finger and make her woman of the house, not Alice.

"I mean..." she began with a softer tone, "I don't know anything about this kind of stuff. I mean, I know what a rabbit or chicken is, but I wouldn't know anything about raising one, let alone finding one now. Not like I can order it live from Amazon Prime."
 
Henry was pleased with Samuel's quick, positive reaction to the invitation. He was even more pleased when Alice added, "I will, too."

But then there was Camille. "Yeah...! Right."

She had a point with her concerns about building a thriving homestead. Henry agreed, "No, it's not going to be as easy as it might have been a year ago. But it can still be done. We already have some chickens running around the farm. And rabbits. We just have to live catch them after rebuilding the pens. We already have a pair of goats. Does, females. We can barter for a male, breed'em. That'll give us milk, cheese, butter."

He smiled and chuckled to himself. "Not that I know how to make any of those things, but … we can learn. We might not have the internet anymore, but there're books … magazines and such. Mapleton's still got a library. We just have to get down there."

There was a conversation about Mapleton and the dangers presented there now. The Militia from which Henry had kidnapped these three controlled the small town that straddled the Siuslaw River, just 12 miles away. And it wasn't just the town they controlled; with roadblocks on Highways 36 and 126, as well as multiple check points manned 24/7, the Militia controlled all movements between Florence (on the coast) and Eugene (in the valley). (Google map link)

When the plague reached and quickly spread across Western Oregon, different communities handled the mayhem in different ways. The Governments -- City, County, State, and Federal -- tried to maintain control as well as they could. But the virus didn't care if you wore a uniform or a badge or if you were a government official; unless you were immune -- as was less than 10% of the population -- your worth and value to the rest of the survivors mattered not and you died a horrific death.

Mapleton had had a pre-plague population of less than 1,500, and that was only if you included all of the homes within the vast, rural school district. After the plague, that Immune population had dropped to just over 100; and those survivors included a dozen men and women from a National Guard unit based out of Florence who had just recently returned home from service in Afghanistan. The Armory in Florence had been slated for closure; its weapons, ammunition, and other military hardware was to be destroyed or shipped north to an Army base in Washington State.

Instead, those 12 Guardsmen -- with help from other local Immunes who knew their way around firearms, hunting, security, tracking, and other such worthy skills -- broke into the Armory during the night and spirited away with six truck loads of hardware and ammo. And thus was born the Mapleton Militia. In less than a week, they had total control of traffic flow and trade around the town and between the Willamette Valley and the Pacific Coast; if you wanted to move east to west or vise versa between Eugene and Florence, you had to deal with the militia.

And the residents praised the Militia. It was protecting the people of Mapleton first; and second, it was charging a toll to anyone wanting to pass through the town -- goods mostly, but services too -- and those tolls were supporting the residents of the town. Of course, not everything the Militia did was legal, as evidenced by the slave market. Oh, they didn't call it that, of course; the Militia called it a rehabilitation labor camp, where criminals could benefit the good people through labor and reeducation, with those good people benefiting.

"I know a man who can get me in and out of Mapleton," Henry explained. "He's trusted by the Militia. He can get me a pass to the marketplace. I can trade for what we need."

They talked about it another hour or so before they agreed to table the subject until tomorrow. The newcomers picked beds, and after Henry dimmed the oil lantern down to a bare minimum, they all dressed down as necessary. They were all exhausted, and sooner than any of them imagined, they were all asleep.
 
The following morning:

Alice awoke to find the house filled with the sounds of children. She rolled over, blinked her eyes back to life, and flinched in surprise as she found little Daisy sitting just inches away, staring at her with a wide smile. The 16 month old waved a small stuffed animal before her excitedly for a moment, then rolled away to stand and waddle away and out of the bedroom.

Sitting up, Alice found she wasn't the only one still in bed. Camille, cuddled up in almost a fetal position for warmth against the morning chill, looked dead to the world.

Alice looked for Samuel only to find him already up and gone. Good for him, she thought. Already learning to be a farmer.

She slipped out of the bag to have her entire body explode in goose bumps to the cold, then slipped back into her jeans. At the end of her bag, a long sleeved, insulated plaid shirt was laid out, most likely one of Henry's.

She donned it, checked the door for prying eyes, then lifted the sleeve to her nose to pick up the slight musky smell of a man. Alice didn't know whether to be turned on -- she used to love wearing her lovers' oversized shirts -- or whether to be disgusted that she'd been provided one of the patriarch's dirty shirts to keep her warm.

Alice chuckled to herself as she donned her shoes, then made her way out into the hallway and beyond. She'd already picked up the scent of breakfast, and when she entered the kitchen she found it a circus of food preparation.

One by one, the Family members preparing breakfast greeted her with excitement … well, all but Honey, who hadn't warmed to Alice quite yet for reasons the eldest female of the house hadn't quite figured out.
 
The kitchen was buzzing with activity, far more than usual because of the mother lode of food now available for the morning meal. Buck had located the loosed chickens' new nest a couple of days earlier, so Honey was scrambling half a dozen eggs in a skillet over the wood stove. Canned peaches and cranberry were on the table with spoons sticking high out of their removed tops. Henry and Monkey had just finished milking the two adult does and returned to the kitchen as Alice herself was entering. There was even half a loaf of bread on the table, one of 10 loafs pillaged from the Militia truck that the family would need to devour before they began turning green from mold.

"Look!" Samuel was calling as he entered the kitchen behind the other two. He held up a skinned carcass by its still-furry hind feet, the animal ready for the frying pan as soon as those feet were lopped off. He looked wide eyed toward Alice and proclaimed, "It's a rabbit!"

Buck had become quite the little hunter when it came snares and dead falls. Two or three times a week, the family got fresh meat for one or more of their meals. This morning, after Buck had checked the traps and found one sprung, Henry had shown the Family's newest male how to gut and skin the creature. Samuel had been a bit grossed out by it all at first, but once it was all over and done with, he was already begging that the other two males of the Family teach him how to do all of this himself.

Henry suggested to Alice that she go get the sleepy head up. "I told the children to give you three some peace and quiet this morning. You've all been through a lot, I'm sure. But Camille needs to understand that we all play a part in the work around here, and that means being up before dawn to get our day started."

With that said and done, the Family members all took their places around the big table. When everyone was quiet and still, they all joined hands -- even little wriggling Daisy -- as if about to say Grace. No words were spoken; the family members simply bowed their heads a bit -- except for little wriggling Daisy -- as each thought about what he or she wanted their day to bring them.

"Let's eat," Henry said softly in place of Amen. Hands separated and hurried to snatch up forks, spoons, or slices of bread. Henry looked to the newcomers and told them, "We don't have butter for the bread, but we do have a berry jelly spread. Oh, I miss butter."

Breakfast proceeded with a great more conversation than was normal due to the additional people about the table. They talked about many topics, but the three most hit upon ones were: from where did Henry and his four children come; from where did the three new Family members come; and what was in the works concerning projects about the house and property.

(OOC: I have to quit for a bit to do other things, but I will push them into performing the days work with a post in a couple of hours or less.)
 
Alice:

She was surprised to see the quantity of food spread out upon the table. She'd lived as a single woman for so many years, typically eating a morning meal of cereal or toast with maybe a glass of juice or piece of fruit; if she'd had frozen link sausages in the freezer, all the better.

The months following the plague had changed everything, of course; she'd lost 12 pounds because of the smaller meals, which wasn't entirely a bad thing, and she'd been eating essentially whatever she could get her upon.

When she took a better look at this morning's offerings, though, Alice realized that with this many mouths to feed, it wasn't so much after all. At least, it wasn't an overabundance. Oh, no one was going to leave the table hungry. But then there weren't likely to be any leftovers either.



Camille:

"Time to get up, sleepy head," Alice told her softly. A little jostle at her feet told Camille that this wasn't just a rude dream. "The Family's cooked breakfast, but, if you don't hurry, there might not be any left after a few minutes."

Camille listened to Alice's shoes crossing the creaking floor, then opened her eyes. She'd slept for shit on the hard floor, just a doubled up blanket as a mattress below her. Oh, she was going to be feeling this for days...!

She fished around in the bottom of her sleeping bag for the jeans she'd shed after entering the bag the night before. Camille thought she'd caught Samuel inconspicuously ogling her as she was preparing to lay down, and despite the very low lantern light, she'd decided not to give him a view of her in her tee shirt and panties.

Now, though, she stood up in the cold morning chill and shook the pants out. A cloud of dust filled the air. Camille grimaced at the thought of this rustic life. Despite the end of the world, she'd been living pretty comfortably up until her kidnapping, even if it had meant parting her thighs to a man she would have rather stabbed to death.

What a conflict this was in her head. Camille may have been on her way to becoming a sex slave. But then, she may have ended up the favored play thing of a powerful, possibly even relatively-rich leader of the Mapleton Militia or of some other … what was that Russian word … oligarch?

This new world order in which they lived, it reminded Camille of the feudal eras which she'd been studying at Community College just before the plague. The men with the money (the Lords) bought muscle (the Knights and other soldiers) who gave those Lords the power and control.

And women? Fuck, they were just walking, talking, wet holes in which those Lords and knights rammed their swords. Camille knew what she'd become after the collapse of society; and she knew what she'd almost become after the Militia grabbed her.

And Alice? Camille often wondered about her back story. They hadn't had an opportunity to talk, really. Maybe today. Camille was curious.

Dressed again, she made her way out to the table to find an empty stool between Samuel and Buck. They gestured her over, and soon food was being piled before her. As Alice had been, Camille was rather impressed. It was more of a breakfast than she'd had in days, and she didn't hesitate to dig in.

By the time breakfast was over, there wasn't anything edible left on the table; it had all been devoured, leaving nothing left but some of the berry spread. Still, Camille was sated and ready to go about her day.

"You have to help with the dishes," Honey suddenly told Camille as the latter was about to walk away from the table. When Camille gave the 9 year old a sharp look, Honey said with a matter of fact tone, "We cooked and set the table. You have to help clean up. That's the rule."

Camille wanted to tell the little girl to go jump in a very cold creek -- there was one just outside, of course -- but instead she reluctantly began assembling dishware. Chores … hell, I ain't had to do chores since I was as young as you, Honey.

But she did them all the same. Once the dishes were all washed and put away, Camille searched around for Alice and found her outside just surveying the homestead. She asked for a private moment, then asked, "So … what now?"

"Whaddaya mean, what now?"

"I mean..." Camille began, not able to find the words. She chuckled, then continued, "I mean, this is … well, it's kinda weird. I mean, four days ago, I was playing house with a guy in Reedsport, then suddenly I was bound and gagged and heading for a slave market, and now I'm here. I went from essentially being a kept woman to being … well, I don't know what I am now. Am I, what, a roommate? A daughter? The long lost missing cousin come to visit after her parents died in a car crash, leaving her all alone."

"Do you want to be Henry's lover?" Alice asked bluntly. As Camille's eyes widened and her mouth fell open, Alice laughed. She looked about for prying eyes or eavesdropping ears and asked quietly, "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted a personal relationship with him. He's a handsome man … and he's the patriarch of this family, the man in charge."

She turned Camille away from the house and led her slowly about through the overgrown lawn. "Listen, if you're going to stay -- which I'm betting you are -- you have to ask yourself what you want from this place. Do you want to just … partake of the work and benefits that come from that work. We have an opportunity to create some beautiful here. You can be a part of this family, a sister to these kids … a friend to Samuel and me … and to Henry."

Alice hesitated for a moment before addressing her blunt question again. She knew Camille had already begun flirting with Henry, firing the first salvo in her attempt to get them into one another's arms naked. (Of course, Alice couldn't know whether or not Camille had just been playing and had no actual intention of parting her thighs for the man.)

"Or … you could try to build something more … personal with Henry," she said with a reluctant tone. "But I have to warn you, Camille. If you do that and it goes bad … life here could become very awkward."

"Yeah, I know all about awkward," Camille said, not at all ready to explain what she meant.

"Just think about it," Alice continued. "There's no hurry to make such decisions now. Just … be part of what's happening here. I think we're all going to be very happy here, if we just give it a chance."

Alice suggested they return to the house and offer to help with whatever chores needed to be done. Camille sniffed at one of her pits, causing Alice to laugh. "I'm sure we can get baths in, too."
 
Samuel, at breakfast:

Samuel was eagerly awaiting Camille's arrival in the kitchen, and when she finally showed he beamed with delight. Seeing her reaction to the stool sitting at the only empty setting at the table, he stood quickly and swapped it for his own chair, with had a back and a butt pad.

"Here, this is more comfortable," he said, patting the chair. He laughed, saying, "I was keeping it warm for you."

Samuel didn't notice whether or not anyone noticed his chivalrous act; his attention was fully on Camille, just as it had been when he'd passed by the open bedroom door earlier and caught an eyeful of her donning her pants. Her tight little ass in a pair of small panties had been on full display to him, and as he watched through the crack, his cock had stiffened quickly to a point that once again he was rearranging himself for comfort.

He chatted with her off and on during breakfast, but it seemed obvious to Samuel that Camille was less enthused about the conversation than he was. He finally just engrossed himself in the Family-wide conversations, reserving his attention to Camille to just occasional glances and -- if she met his eyes -- polite smiles.



Lunch:

Henry was thrilled with Samuel's excitement. The young man stuck close to him for the next five hours as Henry went about the usual daily chores that were his own, as well as contemplated priorities for the homestead which had changed with the addition of the three new Family members.

Just before noon, Monkey called everyone in for lunch. Honey was noticeably happier with the deeper cupboard she had available to her after the mission yesterday. She asked Henry when they would retrieve the stashes but didn't get a firm answer as Henry hadn't decided. Even though the children knew there were many dangers out in the world -- most of them from other people -- he didn't discuss such things with them. And when Henry withheld answers to such questions, the children had learned not to ask farther. That had been quite a success considering the ages of the kids and the curiosity such children had.

The midday meal was again larger than many of the lunches that had preceded it. It was good to have the extra quantity of food, obviously, but the quality of
it -- the balance -- was just as important. The reason for the timing of the ambush of the Militia convoy -- which came through the area once a week, most weeks -- had been a function of food stocks; Henry fished, Buck trapped (with Henry's supervision when necessary) and all of the Family members -- even Daisy, who loved picking flowers, some of which were edible -- but other than what they foraged, the cupboards had been nearly bare.

When they'd finished, then washed and put away the dishes, Henry sat everyone down around the table. He looked between the seven of them as he talked about how -- with three more adults -- they had an opportunity to accomplish things they hadn't been able to do before.

"What one thing would each of you like to see happen now that we have this chance?" he asked. "Do you want to build something? Change something? Improve something?"

"Rabbits and chickens," Buck said even as others were preparing to open their mouths to speak. "If we fixed the coops and hutches, we could have a steady supply of rabbit and eggs year round."

Henry nodded. They'd already been planning on this for a long time, and they'd done a little work already on the coops and hutches. But a winter storm had done some damage and they hadn't yet restarted the work.

Samuel raised his hand and got a smile and nod from Henry. "Let's flood the creek again. There's a dam just before where the creek enters the forest. And it has a generator."

"It doesn't work," Henry pointed out. He described how they had attempted to turn the generator to get voltage out of it. "But, that doesn't mean we can't find a new generator. So … we'll do that."

"I want my own bed," Honey said. "I don't like sleeping on the floor."

Monkey got excited, practically bouncing in her chair. "I want a bed, too! With a canopy! A Princess bed!"

Henry laughed, reaching over to caress the little girl's cheek. "We'll see what we can do about that, okay?"

Henry looked to the end of the table, where the second eldest adult now in the family had taken the end seat opposite him. "And what about you, Alice?"
 
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