In The Desert... (Closed for TheAntiRebel and AmbrosiaCaress)

Lotus. A beautiful flower, with deep meaning... A lotus is often associated with beauty, fertility, prosperity, spiritual awakening, eternity, purity and faithfulness. The morning of her birth, she had been graced with this name. Lotus. Beauty, purity.. her birth had been a miracle in this small family, a miracle within the clan in general. But her life came not without sacrifice. Her mother, had not survived. The "Mentor" as he was called, her father, he was the leader of these people, but King, or President, or Sovereign, just never sat well with him. He was their Mentor. And now, the Mentor would have no further heirs, specifically male heirs, to carry on his leadership. She, his Lotus.. was all he had...

That, was nearly 20 seasons ago.

Lotus had grown under the peaceful guidance of her father and his people. Peaceful was the best way to describe them. They did not seek confrontation. They did not seek war. They only wished to survive, to live, as best they could in this decidedly not so peaceful world. A world many years removed from the old. She had not witnessed the downfall. She had not witnessed the riots and the wars. The bombs dropping on starving people. The ripping apart of all that had be normal up until then. She had not witnessed the horror. Her father had. He had seen it all. He had survived thru it all. It had not been easy. He had to kill many, had to do things that he would no longer talk about, do things that haunted his memory, in order to survive. His wife, Adeline, had taken away the horror and made living bareable again, such as it was. It was her that had lead him to the peaceful life of a nomad, roaming the lands. It was she that had calmed and ultimately silenced his horror and his memories. It was her that had brought peace into his life, a peace he now lived by. Losing her nearly drove him to the brink... but the people he swore to lead and protect, and his little daughter Lotus, they were the reason he still walked this world. The reason he still lived.

She had grown in a stunningly beautiful woman, with her long, midnight black hair, and sparkling jade green eyes. Lithe, sleek, and agile, she often reminded her father of a cobra waiting to strike.



This particular season, her Father's clan had managed to find, and temporarily inhabit, a small, nearly intact village, one may even have called it a town, in the shadow of a ruined, deserted city. Not the safest place to try and survive. Cities attracted many groups of nomads. Some not as friendly as others. In fact, many, were very, very dangerous. But one had to eek out a life where one could find it, and here, there was shelter from the unrelenting sun, as well as the savage storms that often blew by. It was a good home base from where scouts could be sent for supplies. They were running low. Rain had been scarce, so water was also scarce. Food was desperately needed as there were 3 new babies born within their clan and their survival was tantamount in importance. And lastly, medical supplies. More than likely those could be scavenged from the city. But food and water, that would be a much harder, and much more distant to find.

Lotus, as she had grown, had become one of the clan's best scouts, much to the chagrin of her Father, the Mentor. She was all he had. He worried about her. Women in this world were not always safe. What he wanted was for her to find a mate within the clan and bear a son who could then be groomed for leadership. But Lotus wanted to help, be productive, and she did not want to simply be known as the Mentor's daughter. She was active, strong, inquisitive, intelligent, and had a talent for tracking, which in this world, was very important. She was good at what she did. So, reluctantly, her father often sent her out with the other scouts, as he did this particular day as well.

She headed southwest from the clan's location. Lotus didn't mind the heat of the sun, and often choose venturing deeper into the desert when she scouted. It was not a desert of purely sand. This was more a desert made of the desolation of cities, of countries, of people. She heard stories of the wars. Stories of the battles, of the deaths, of the destruction. Now, she saw the aftermath with her own eyes. There were great expanses of nothingness, no trees, no shade, no nothing. But there was often hills, perhaps a cave or 2 embedded, and as the miles melted behind her, she would happen upon small campgrounds or habitations. Most were deserted. The people of this time, this world, were nomadic for the most part. Movement was life. Stagnation was death.

Sometimes, she would come across another traveling group. She would have to judge if friendly, approach, and establish that she herself, was not a threat. She carried polished stones and several silver coins, along with a few medical supplies gathered from the city, that she hoped to trade for dry goods, or water, if possible. That is when she encountered others. Her people did not carry weapons. So, she did not carry any weapons for trading, or for protection for that matter. It was a point she argued often with her father, but he was unrelenting in his decision. They were peaceful people, weapons were not negotiable. Her only way of keeping safe on these scouting trips was using her wits, as well as staying hidden. And this was something she did this well...

That is until that night, 9 nights into her scouting. She was tired. The sun was only just beginning it's descent in the west. And Lotus was about to make fateful mistake. She had figured she had to be at least 100+ miles from her clan, and she needed to start the long trek back. She had managed to gather some water, having been caught in a sudden thunderstorm, the rain water had filled 2 of her water jugs nearly full during the deluge. She hoped to locate some food, but other than the little she managed to find to survive herself, rotten vegtables for the most part, there was none to bring back to her clan.

"If I head north and then east, I can meet back up with my Father and the clan within 5 to 7 days" she told herself, unless she got lucky enough to meet up with another clan along the way back. She hadn't been lucky as of yet...

She calculated her travel time based on using main roads, in the hopes of finding another clan to trade with to get some dried goods, fruit maybe, or grain.

She was an hour into her journey home, a mere hour, the sun had not even made it completely behind the horizan, when she heard it. The roar of engines. Not a sound one heard very often. Gas was the most rare of goods to find and utilize. But that was the unmistakable sound of engines. And they were coming right toward her, and she, was out in the open, on the main road, with not enough time to even think of hiding. Not that there was any place to hide. She ws completely out in the open, completely vulnerable. They came racing over the hill and into view... there had to be a dozen of them, if not more. 2-Wheelers is what her people called them. And Lotus knew ...2-Wheelers were never good. They were brutal, vicious animals that roamed the desert... And she... was in trouble...

Fear. That was how Scar had survived. 50 years, most of it spent in this barren godforsaken desert. He was 29 when it all started. He was a Staff Sergeant in the United States Army. Heh, the thought made him laugh. Kids these days didn’t even know what the United States was anymore. Invisible lines on an ancient map seemed irrelevant when you couldn’t find food or clean water. The oil wells started running out. The price of gas jumped to $30 / gal. Businesses started collapsing as people couldn’t afford to go to work. Riots outside grocery stores. Then the wars started. They were about to be deployed before the bombs started dropping. As the plants started dying, the oceans started turning toxic, and the cities started turning to ruins, his men and him had decided it was time to leave.

They had body armor, guns and training. They became gods, and he became Zeus. They started killing others for the supplies they could. It was just to keep their families safe and healthy at first. Then the families disappeared. As they ran out of places to loot, they started traveling on motorcycles. They became motorcycle bandits, riding from place to place, taking what they wanted by violence. Food, water, gasoline, women. Only bad motherfuckers were allowed to ride with them. Got injured? Got sick? You were left behind. And he became Scar, the most ruthless of them all. He needed to inspire fear in his men to keep one of them from deciding he wanted to be top dog.

There were about twenty of them, currently. Scar was riding on a big Kawasaki Ninja ZX-14. The plastic cowling had broken away, but he had attached some black sheet metal to protect the engine. It gave him an even more intimidating look. He was the biggest guy, in the baddest gang, on the biggest bike. Nobody doubted who he was. He was wearing leather pants with black combat boots. His old dog tags hung around his neck (hey, they kept him alive in Afghanistan before all this, why not keep them around). He kept a shotgun wrapped around the back of his torso and a machete tied to his leg.

His crew and him rode down the highway. He rode first, and the other 19 guys rode three or four wide behind him. They roared down the cracked, old highway like a speeding pack of roaring lions, but Scar knew they had trouble. It had been awhile since they had food. And water ran out this morning. They needed to find some nomads, and quickly, or there would be trouble in the ranks.

As they crested over a hill, Scar caught something in the road. A feminine figure. He bit his lip. She was alone, but she would tell them where here group was. And then he would have his way with her. And then his men would. That would keep them happy a little longer. Then, depending on how cooperative she was, maybe she’d be told she was coming along, tied to the back of somebody’s bike like a hog. Or maybe they’d just leave her in the desert.

Scar signaled to his men and the started slowing down. He pulled his Kawi right up next to the woman. She looked startled and scared. Damn, she was beautiful. She looked… untouched. She didn’t have the look of a woman who had to fuck 15 guys to stay alive. She wasn’t exhausted from raising three children in this horrible world. Wherever she was from, she had it good. Damn, she was really sexy. His boys wouldn’t get to share her. She would be his and his alone.

“Well, hello there, little lady.” Scar said, smiling at her and letting his eyes obviously linger over her body. “My name is… uh, Scar,” he said, introducing himself in a mock gentlemanly tone.

He looked around to make sure that some friends of hers weren’t hiding in the ditch or something. “What’s a sexy little thing like you doing out here all alone?” Scar said, grinning at her. He leaned over and gently pinched her skin on her forearm, his fingers big, hard, calloused and dirty against her soft clean skin. “I think you need a man to protect you. Do you need a big man to protect you?” he asked, in his low gritty voice as he stared at her directly in the eyes.

The gang easily surrounded her. Yeah, she could have tried to run, but Lotus knew there was no way she would ever outrun them. Running would just set them on her like a pack of wolves. Maybe, maybe if she remained calm (even tho she was terrified), she could get thru this unharmed. But in reality, she didn't believe that for a heartbeat. She was in deep trouble and she knew it...

“Well, hello there, little lady.” Scar said, smiling at her and letting his eyes obviously linger over her body. “My name is… uh, Scar,” he said, introducing himself in a mock gentlemanly tone.

“What’s a sexy little thing like you doing out here all alone?” Scar said, grinning at her. He leaned over and gently pinched her skin on her forearm, his fingers big, hard, calloused and dirty against her soft clean skin. “I think you need a man to protect you. Do you need a big man to protect you?” he asked, in his low gritty voice as he stared at her directly in the eyes.

Yanking her arm away from the assault, she stepped back from him. Her usually sparkling green eyes were darkened now, as she desperately tried to think of a way out of this. "I need no protection" she managed to declare, tho not convincingly. "Listen..." she took another step back from him... she did not want to sacrifice her water, but she had no choice. "I have 2 full jugs of fresh water...." the stones and coins, along with the scant medical supplies she had for trading were worth nothing compared to the fresh water... "take them and leave me be... please"....

She was ready to run, her muscles tight, ready to spring. She hoped that she didn't look all that attractive to the men. Yeah, he had called her a sexy little thing, but she was dressed anything but. Wearing jeans, boots, and a green, dirty tee shirt, she hoped she was anything but sexy... Even her long black hair, pulled back in a loose ponytail, was dust laden. But Lotus wasn't stupid. She knew that females were a desired commodity, just like water and food, in this world. Any female. If they found out she was virginal, she'd never have a chance, and she knew it.

She took another step back. "Scar, take the water, let me go. Please"....

She met his gaze, staring back. She had to put up a strong front. She had to make them seen her as nothing more than another nomad roaming the desert to survive and not as a fertile, sexy, soft, wet, moaning, pleasuring... female.....

Scar grinned as he watched her back away. He sat straight up on the bike, shifting the weight to the back tire. He crossed his powerful arms and grinned. She was trying to put on a brave face, but she was scared. He could tell. She wasn’t dumb. She knew what this is and what would happen. A smart bitch. At least when Scar pumped a kid or two into her they would get half their genes from a smart bitch.

He got off the bike and walked over to the jugs of water. “Oh, that’s very generous of you. We’re just thirsty travelers looking to find our own way in this world.” A few scattered chuckles from the group of bikers behind him. “I’d love to get to know you better if you want to sit and have a drink of water with me,” he said, with a grin. “Though, it has been a long time since I’ve had the company of a beautiful woman and I hope I don’t get flustered and spill some on you. I’d hate to make you… wet,” he said. Crude innuendo at its finest, but that got a bigger roar of laughter from the bikers.

He pulled the large machete out from its sheath on his pant leg. The long, large blade was almost as long as her arm. He held it out so the sun reflected into her face. “Now, you and I are going to over in the ditch over there and get to know each other better while my boys enjoy your water, get it?” he said, followed by some hollers and shouts of approval from the gang. Unfortunately for them, they assumed they would get a turn with her as well, but she was Scar’s and Scar’s alone.

Before she could say anything, the stout roar of a car engine came rolling through the flat desert. A car was roaring up the road. Whatever it was, it was big and fast. Scar stared down the road. This was trouble. Cars, even smallest ones, were fuel inefficient compared to motorcycles. Whoever found enough gas to keep driving a car after all this time was one bad motherfucker.

~~~~



Jagger growled and dropped the clutch and shifted his Mustang into fourth gear. The 2011 Ford Mustang Boss 302 was a rare car, even before the bombs fell. It had a five liter V8 engine, making it plenty fast for chasing down biker gangs. The problem was, the big engine sucked gasoline like it was going out of style (which it was). Finding gas for his powerful car was getting harder and harder to find. It was painted jet black, and most smaller biker gangs managed to quiver and run before he even pulled out a gun. He was down to 1/8th of a tank, and unfortunately he wouldn’t be able to go much longer without finding gas.

He was born a few years before the bombs fell and ruined the planet. His dad was a police officer, and his mom was a teacher. His dad was a street cop in some bad neighborhoods, and was used to dealing with bad guys, even before they started roaming the desert on motorcycles. One thing hadn’t changed, the bad guys always prayed on the weak. Which is where Jagger came in. His parents died of cancer a few years ago, leaving him alone. So, he took his father’s car and started roaming The Desert. He didn’t know what he was looking for. But, he helped people along the way. Helped nomads. Killed bandits. Took what he needed either as a reward or looted it from the corpses of those who got in his way.

His black Mustang was roaring down the empty highway when suddenly he crested over a hill and saw it, ahead. Twenty or so biker bandits, surrounding a young woman. He could tell by the way she was dressed and the body language of all involved that she wasn’t with them. She looked like she was backing away from them, tense. One of them was off his bike, standing near her. He had made it just in time.

He shifted the car into first gear and pulling the handbrake, spun it around so it was sideways with the road, with the driver’s side facing away from the bikers. He pulled the door handle and got out. He was wearing blue jeans and a tight black t-shirt. His aviator sunglasses were a rare and priceless possession, almost more rare than his car considering glasses were broken and never fixed in The Desert. He had an old hunting rifle stowed between the driver and passenger’s seats, but didn’t take it, instead pulling his heavy .45 handgun out of his hip holster. He kept it at his side when he stood out of car, keeping it between him and the bikers.

Scar laughed and looked at the young kid and the car. “Jesus, kid. That thing is pretty sweet.” A few murmurs of agreement from the gang. “A V8 Mustang. Haven’t seen one of those in shit… since this all started. Almost forgot what they sounded like.”

Jagger grinned. “Thanks. I hear that a lot. Who’s the lady?”

Scar looked over at the girl and grinned. “She’s my girlfriend. We just met. You know, I really like that car.” Cars just slowed biker gangs down but this one might actually keep up. Scar decided he wanted it. He pointed towards it. Two of his guys got off their bikes and pull out machetes and knifes and started walking towards the Mustang. “Why don’t you pop the hood on that thing and let my guys take a look at the engine in that thing?” Scar asked as the two guys approached the Mustang.

Jagger made eye contact with the girl. In a brief moment between the two of them, his eyes softened, to make sure she knew he was compassionate and friendly and would be her way out of here. He would need her to pick up quickly on his cues once he started.

“Sure. Let me show you guys,” Jagger said. The two bikers split up. One rounded the front of the car. The other rounded the back. They both beelined straight for Jagger, knives out. Jagger drew his .45 and pointed it at the front bikers’ face and fired, blowing a hole clean through his head. The back biker put an arm around Jagger’s throat and tried to hold him down as he tried to bring his knife around to Jagger’s stomach. Jagger aimed the .45 behind his head, firing twice, the loud gun going off in his ear. His first shot missed, the second clipped the side of the biker’s head. He was alive, but fell to the old pavement, bleeding and screaming in pain.

“Motherfucker. Somebody kill this asshole!” Scar said, reaching for the shotgun hanging from his back. The remaining bikers started rushing off their bikes and reaching for his weapon.

Jagger fired two shots at them, he wasn’t specifically aiming at anything, he didn’t want to risk hitting the girl, but the shots did send most of the bikers sprawling for cover. “Get in the car! Passenger side, come on!” he shouted to the girl, firing another shot in the general direction of the bikes.