"The Wasteland" (Closed to PennySaver and me)

[HumanBean]

"The Wasteland"

(closed to HumanBean and PennySaver)​

2082:

Brett Harding
42 years of age
6'4", 200#; fit and strong

Brett hadn't gone looking for trouble when in the distance he'd seen a pillar of smoke rising from what he'd correctly assumed was a campfire. He'd known, however, that the odds of an unfortunate encounter were likely. It had taken him several hours to reach his destination, and -- in the post-sundown dimness of the night -- when he identified himself from a couple of dozen yards away, he'd told the small group he only wanted to discuss a potential trade of resources.

What happened next was unfortunate, mostly for the group and less so for Brett himself. When the violence was over, Brett was the last one still standing in the flickering light of the fire. He looked around himself to the four men and one woman lying dead or dying; each was or had been armed with some form of edged or hammer-like weapon. Brett himself had been armed with a scythe he'd fashioned into a well-balanced sword, as well as foot-long dagger and four throwing knives; all four of the latter were now buried deep in the torsos of those who'd been surging at him, waving their respective weapons at him.

They attacked me, he reminded himself as he watched the last living man take his last ragged breath. I wanted to trade. I only wanted to trade. I'm not responsible for this. This isn't my fault. This is me!

Not every person who'd been sitting near the fire had joined the fight and subsequently died, though. Two women and a child -- who Brett thought sounded and moved like a tween male -- had run as fast as they could out into the darkness of the wasteland. Brett hadn't pursued them, of course; he hadn't wanted to kill these people, let alone a child and even more women.

They were probably going to die this night anyway, he told himself. They'd fled without supplies to the best of Brett's knowledge, and without food, water, insulating bedding, and other important resources, they wouldn't likely survive the night.

Brett wished things didn't have to be this way. He wished he didn't have to be this way.

Brett hadn't been raised to be a violent man. Sure, he'd had self-defense training since a young child, thanks to a grandfather who'd been raised to understand the benefit of such discipline-building courses. And he'd participated in martial arts competitions and played rough-and-tumble sports, including rugby and football.

But he'd never truly had the killer instinct -- or, perhaps, he'd been able to to control and direct it such that he'd never suffered from using his skills detrimentally against others. Brett had never once started a fight. He had, however, come out on top in nearly every violent encounter in which he'd found himself.

It was, of course, the collapse of civilization that had led him to this life he now lived, an existence that included more violence that one man should ever experience.

It had been 30 years since civilization as it had been known came to end in the blinding flash of nuclear weapons. It had begun with a multitude of other causes, one building on the other until the breaking point had been reached. Devastating environmental issues -- from global warming to pollution to resource depletion -- had led to a multitude of small conflicts which, in the end, had led to the exchange of nuclear weapons between the US and China; North Korea and the US, Japan, and South Korea; Russia and the US; Russia and NATO; and finally Pakistan and India, the latter of which had been driven not by any military purpose but instead by nothing more than pure hatred between those two peoples.

The bad news, obviously, was that post-nuclear holocaust life would never be the same. The good news was that there would, at least, still be life. The immediate nuclear damage and subsequent radiation poisoning from globe-encircling fallout did and still would kill or otherwise affect billions of people around the globe.

But there were some who'd survived with little harm to themselves.
Brett Harding had been one of these people. He'd been saved from most of the immediate destruction because his prepper grandfather had had an underground shelter that had supported the two of them and three other family members for over a decade and a half. It had been a life of deprivation, but it had been life. When their diminished resources finally forced them topside, the radiation was still too high; one after another, over a period of five years, Brett had watched his family members either die from radiation poisoning or from other causes related directly to the long-over war.

Life today, to put it simply, sucked, by early 21st century standards. But Brett was still alive, and while he'd suffered some ill-health from the ever-persistent radiation, he was still strong enough to go on, despite sometimes wishing he'd just keel over and stop breathing. Looking at the dead surrounding him, he almost wished they had killed him instead. He hated taking the lives of others. But as he reminded himself again, he didn't start this!

Keeping an eye out for the three who'd run off -- as well as anyone else who might have spotted the fire -- Brett began rummaging through the group's possessions. He was surprised to find a relatively large quantity of food, including jerked meat, seeds and grains, dried edible flowers, and even some decades-old canned products which would be unidentified to Brett until he opened them due to missing their labels. He found an also large number of containers filled with water which -- after checking them with his Geiger Counter, his most treasured possession -- showed very low levels of radiation.

There were other resources of value to him, as well as much that he would ignore and leave where it lay. But it was the clean water that interested Brett the most. Radiation-free surface water no longer existed in these parts, but Brett knew that clean springs were to be found all around the region. Unfortunately, every one of them he'd heard of was guarded by militias that understood their value; these heavily armed groups didn't give water away for free, and Brett had learned the hard way that the price asked for that water was often higher than he was willing to pay.

Brett searched around for a couple of dozen fist-sized rocks and tossed them into the fire. Then, he gathered up the most valuable resources and carried them off to a small grove of trees about 50 yards away. Returning to the fire, he packed the now-warm stones in a heavy bag and hauled them off as well. He laid them out and covered them in sand, then laid his bedroll out upon them. The heat radiating out of the stones would keep him warm for the next few hours.

Normally, he would have gotten the hell out of Dodge after an attack that had included survivors. But Brett had a very good reason for staying behind: he was betting that the women and child who'd survived would return to salvage what they could ... and right now, the most valuable thing Brett could gain from tonight's horrific encounter was the knowledge of where the hell they'd gotten their clean, healthy water.

 

[PennySaver]

Tyler leapt to her feet and ran the moment the shit hit the fan. She wasn't one of these people. Not by choice, anyway. She wanted no part of whatever was about to come.

She wasn't alone, though. She was practically dragging Hopper behind her. The group's youngest member was barely 8-year-old. He was struggling to stay on his feet as Helen practically dragged him behind her.

Tyler moved as fast as she could, which wasn't fast at all. The ground was rough and uneven, and she stumbled repeatedly. She fell or nearly did so a dozen times. The low-lying, full moon was shining through the scattered trees directly into her eyes. The light blinded her more than it illuminated her path. Hopper's own unsteadiness didn't help, of course.

Tyler's heart was pounding so hard that she thought it was going to leap out of her chest. It wasn't because of the exertion, though. It was because of the screams and cries coming from the direction of the camp. The people with whom she'd been traveling for almost a month were fighting for their lives. And likely losing.

Exhausted, Tyler pulled Hopper down behind a big boulder to hide. She needed to catch her breath. She pulled the boy close to her. She wrapped her arms around him, hoping to comfort him. Surprisingly, he seemed quite calm.

After a long while, Tyler realized that the night had gone silent. The fight was over. Who'd won? Did it matter?

After another long moment, Tyler heard steps approaching. The panic returned. Was it the stranger or the members of her group. Again, did it matter? She'd never liked being alone. But being with these people had barely been any better. If the stranger had won the fight and then found her, could he be any worse than the others had been?

Tyler peeked out from behind the boulder, looking for who was approaching. She eventually recognized Helen, the eldest of the group's women at ten years senior to her own age of 19. Tyler had come to respect Helen's her for her physical, mental, and spiritual strength. The men didn't mess with Helen for fear of her slicing their throat's while they slept.T

And yet Tyler's first thought upon seeing Helen was to continue hiding. Helen had allowed the men in the group to have their way with her sexually. Helen had called it paying your way. Tyler couldn't hunt or cook or anything much else. Parting her legs to any seeking comfort had become Tyler's contribution to the group.

Still, Tyler knew she wouldn't survive out here on her own. And for all she knew, the men who'd been forcing themselves on her might all be dead. Continuing to travel with Helen was the least worst of all the options she had.

Tyler stood up, waved her hands over her head, and called out, "Helen!"

The older of the two women instinctively pointed her sawed-off, double-barreled shotgun at the younger woman. Tyler ducked just as instinctively. Then she remembered that Helen had used the last of her shells almost a month ago. She raised her hands from behind the boulder just in case, though. "It's me! It's Tyler. I have Hopper!"

She stood slowly, finding Helen nearing her quickly. They all squatted down behind the boulder. Tyler wanted to ask about the others. She didn't, though. She wasn't certain how she'd feel about the outcome of the fight, regardless of how it had ended.

"We'll just stay right here for now," Helen whispered after she'd caught her breath "Whoever he is, he can't track us in the dark if we just stay quiet."

They sat there silent and still for hours. At some point, Hopper fell asleep with his head in Tyler's lap. Helen was the next to fall asleep, sometime after midnight. Tyler was the last to slip off into dreamland. Exhausted as she was, she didn't wake again until dawn. She found Helen standing tall behind the boulder, looking off the direction they'd come.

"We have to go back," Helen said once Tyler was alert. "We have no water. We have to hope some of the water bottles are there for our consumptions.

Tyler didn't argue the point. She was thirsty and hungry both. They'd left a good deal of food and water behind. Maybe the stranger had taken what he could carry and left the rest.

They headed out, moving slowly, cautiously. It took quite a while to reach where the site of the camp. The scene was horrific to Tyler. All of the other group members had been killed in the most brutal ways. There was no sign of the stranger, and Tyler assumed that he'd taken what he could carry and split.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

 

[HumanBean]

Brett had gotten about four hours of sleep, rising at the first hint of the sun threatening to rise over the distant mountain range. He ate and drank -- the food and water courtesy of the dead out there in the nearby grove of trees -- then relieved himself and took a couple of minutes to stretch his tire, aching muscles.

He felt a twinge in his side and, moving his clothes about, found another wound he'd missed the night before. He'd suffered a blunt force trauma to one forearm when he'd blocked a club being swung at him, and he'd gotten both sliced and stabbed by a blade, though, the injuries had been so slight that he hadn't even had to stitch them up.

This one was the worse, a four inch long cut along his side just above his belt. It wasn't deep and had barely bled, but still, Brett couldn't understand how he'd missed it at all; exhaustion maybe, or perhaps this life of persistent hell was simply making him immune to the pain of it all, literally.

He stripped his clothes from his upper torso, doused a needle and thread in a plastic bottle of homebrew disinfectant, and sewed up the slice in his skin and layer of winter fat. Brett had begun putting on a couple of extra pounds of it over his hard, muscular body each year, something he attributed to living well. That made him laugh sometimes: the world had been slowly dying for the past 3 decades and so had its human occupants, and yet he was putting on fat because he ate relatively well. It didn't seem right sometimes, but who was Brett to complain.

Leaving his newfound supplies behind and moving out still before the rising of the sun, Brett returned to the camp where so many had so unnecessarily died the night before. He moved slowly; he was pretty certain the runaways had not returned during the night, yet he was still careful to look for an ambush by them. He, of course, was about to prepare an ambush for them, so the thought of the opposite was foremost in his mind.

He looked around for a hiding place, found an old two-wheeled cart the group had been using to haul some of their stuff, and slipped under it and behind some of the things that had been set upon the ground. He laid a water bottle on his chest, positioned the straw that serviced it close to his mouth, and prepared to lay there silent and still for as long as it took for those who'd fled to return to scavenge supplies.

As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long. Brett heard movement from the direction of the still-low sun, and with the sun in his eyes -- much as the moon had been in Tyler's the night before -- he couldn't initially see who was approaching except in very vague silhouette. Finally, as they moved away from the direction of the big, red orb on the horizon, Brett got a look at who he'd seen fleeing the fight the night before.

He found himself quite surprised at the sight of the two women. And to his great surprise -- unexpected but not entirely unwelcomed -- his cock began to swell at the sight of them. The first of them -- he would eventually learn her name was Helen -- was younger than he by a few years; she was a beautiful, shapely woman with long blonde hair that wafted in the morning breeze. She carried a shotgun in her hands in a way that told Brett that she knew how to handle it and herself. She slipped into the site slowly and cautiously, simultaneously looking for dangers and checking the others for signs of life.

The second woman -- Tyler -- was something Brett hadn't seen in a good long time. She was younger than the first and had a fresh sense to her that simply wasn't found in this harsh, brutal, unforgiving world anymore. She seemed more tentative than the other woman, holding back to let the first do the inspecting of the dead. She led a small boy by the hand and tried to shield his eyes from the horrors of the battlefield with the other.

Brett let the two poke around the camp site for several minutes, listening in to see if they made any mention of the thing on his mind: the clean water source. His delay was mostly due to the shotgun in the older woman's hands, though. Brett couldn't know that it was without ammunition.

Eventually, though, the woman named Helen came close to the cart under which Brett was hiding. When she turned his back on her, he lunged out quickly, grabbing for and getting a hold of the weapon in one hand while using the other to punch her hard in the stomach. With a loud of gush of air escaping her lungs, the woman doubled over and fell, clutching her arms around herself in pain.

"Don't even twitch!" he hollered at the younger woman as he pointed the shotgun toward her head. Then, thinking it might be even more of a threat, he shifted his aim at the child, growling, "Or I'll splatter his brains across the camp."

Brett looked at the packs the girl carried, now filled with water, food, and other supplies they'd been gathering, and ordered, "Put it down." Then, remembering his reason for having waited for them, he said, "I don't want to hurt you ... any of you." He looked around the camp at the dead bodies; flies and little creatures had already arrived to feed on them. He added, "I didn't want to hurt any of you. I only wanted to trade."

He looked to the woman still on the ground and got to the point: "This water you have is clean ... radiation-free. I want to know where you got it. It's from a spring, right? Where is it? Which direction and how far?" He looked between the two women and even gave the kid a glance before saying, "You tell me where it is, and I not only let you live, but I let you have all of your supplies ... the ones you have here and the ones I took last night."

 

[PennySaver]

Helen had entered the camp with great caution. She'd lived this long by being careful. Also, while maybe not courageous, by running away when she knew the gettin' was good. She'd always considered herself smarter than the average man. And by man, she meant men. Men could be so fucking stupid sometimes.

Now, laying on the ground, clutching at herself in pain, she felt the stupid one. She should have known the stranger would have returned. One didn't simply leave full bottles of water and packs filled with food and other valuables behind. She looked up at Brett with hate in her eyes. There might have been a bit of fear in them, too. He was going to kill them. Maybe rape them, then kill them. Maybe rape them, kill them, and rape them again.

Tyler for her part had simply frozen in place. She tried to hide Hopper behind her. But the boy repeatedly moved out to better see the stranger. Tyler didn't know the word autistic. No one did anymore. What made Hopper unique was now causing him to want to get a good view of the interesting stranger standing over the fallen Helen.

Tyler was unsure of how to feel about Brett at this moment in time. He was a big man, seemingly powerful. He was large and in charge, as she'd heard said once. Of course, the shotgun he was waving around was unloaded. He didn't know that. And for the moment, Tyler didn't see a reason to tell him so.

He commanded, "Don't even twitch!"

He aimed the weapon at Hopper, "Or I'll splatter his brains across the camp."

Tyler again tried to shield the boy. But Hopper only fought to stand next to her instead. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught his looking up to her. She looked down. He was smiling, excited. Tyler didn't understand why. There was a lot about Hopper she didn't understand.

"Put it down."

Tyler realized that the man was talking about the bag in her other hand. She dropped it without delay.

"I don't want to hurt you ... any of you."

Without really thinking about it, Tyler quickly said, "I don't want you to hurt any of us either."

The man studied her a moment. Then he looked around at the dead. "I didn't want to hurt any of you. I only wanted to trade."

Tyler had heard Brett say just that the night before. She'd known at the time that trade hadn't been an option. Not with these people. She'd known the others too well. Peaceful interaction, particularly with a lone stranger, simply hadn't been in their nature.

"This water you have is clean ... radiation-free," the man said to Helen. "I want to know where you got it. It's from a spring, right? Where is it? Which direction and how far?"

He looked back to Tyler. "You tell me where it is, and I not only let you live, but I let you have all of your supplies ... the ones you have here and the ones I took last night."

From still on the ground, Helen growled through the pain in her abdomen. "Fuck you."

"I'll tell you," Tyler said quickly. Both the man and Helen looked to her. Tyler looked to Helen. There was anger in that face. She looked back to man. "I know where it is. I'll tell you where it is. Just ... don't hurt us. Any of us. Promise?"

"You stupid little girl?" Helen growled. "You think Harvey and Mick and the others were hard on you..."

"Screw you," Tyler said. She wanted to use the F-word as Helen had. But she'd been raised differently than that. Even in this harsh world. Profanity was wrong. It was the sign of a weak vocabulary. Yes, Tyler knew the word vocabulary. She looked to the man and smiled. "My name is Tyler. This is Hopper."

She indicated the boy, who smiled and waved with excitement. "I'll show you where the spring is. But, you have to promise not to hurt us. Any of us. Or take out stuff. We'll die without our stuff. Or our water bottles. You have to let us fill and keep our water bottles. Maybe help us find more water bottles, if you are going to take the spring, I mean. And don't hurt us. Or rape us. I wouldn't like that."

 

[HumanBean]

Brett was taken a bit by surprise by the younger woman saying, "I don't want you to hurt any of us either."

He gave Tyler another thoughtful look. She had a sense of confidence about her that he hadn't picked up on when she -- with the boy in tow -- had first entered the camp. Confidence or not, Brett couldn't get her appearance out of his mind. She was what people had once called smokin' hot or a babe or any of many other words meant to explain that she was oh-so-very-much fuckable.

Brett looked to the other woman. Helen seemed a very different kind of woman from the other, and Brett imagined that -- given even the slightest opportunity -- that she would stick her shotgun in his throat and pull the trigger without hesitation. And yet Brett found it hard not to imagine her flat on her back while he pummeled her pussy with his stiffened cock.

He told them what he wanted and what he was willing to give them: in order, the water and their supplies. The woman on the ground growled, "Fuck you."

That didn't surprise him. She looked like the type to voluntarily take a beating before willingly giving up one of this region's most valuable resources, radiation-free water.

But the younger woman very quickly said, "I'll tell you."

Brett looked to Tyler, then to Helen. The tension between the two of them was obvious. He began to wonder if perhaps the older woman wouldn't also put said firearm in the younger woman's mouth as well.

"I know where it is," Tyler went on, undaunted by her traveling partner's comment about how the now-dead men had treated her. "Screw you."

Brett smiled, almost chuckling at the exchange between the two.

"My name is Tyler," the woman still on her feet said. She looked to the boy, who looked as if he was enjoying himself. "This is Hopper."

"Tyler ... Hopper," he said, confirming their identities. He didn't see any reason not to reveal his name, too, so he told her, "Brett. I'm Brett."

"I'll show you where the spring is," she went on. "But, you have to promise not to hurt us."

"I won't hurt--"

"Any of us," she cut him off. Brett started to confirm that, too, but she quickly went on, "Or take out stuff. We'll die without our stuff."

"I already said that--"

"Or our water bottles. You have to let us fill and keep our water bottles."

"Water bottles, sure, of--"

"Maybe help us find more water bottles, if you are going to take the spring, I mean."

Brett did chuckle this time. The girl was energetic in her demands. Again, he was having sexual thoughts: was she this energetic when naked and atop a man's midsection?

"And don't hurt us," she added. "Or rape us. I wouldn't like that."

Brett opened his mouth to speak, hesitated until he thought she was done, then said, "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to rape you. I'm not going to take your water bottles ... and yes, if I can, I will help you find more bottles." He hesitated for her response, didn't get one -- she did smile, at least -- and then asked, "Good?"

She was happy with that, and Brett looked to the other woman for her input. He repeated his question, "Good?"

 

[PennySaver]

Helen listened to the ridiculous exchange between the two others. She shook her head in dismay.

Finally, Brett looked down to her and asked, "Good?"

Helen lifted a hand in a stay calm gesture and rose to her feet. Her gut still ached from the punch that fell her. She looked to the shotgun the man held, smiled, and said, "You know that thing's empty, right? Go ahead. Check it."

She hesitated, in case he wished to do as she suggested. Then, reaching to the small of her back, Helen withdrew a knife with a heavy, solid, 8-inch blade. She said, "No, not good."

She knew he carried edged weapons, too. She was expecting him to better arm himself. Whether he did or not, she told him, "Not without a better deal."

Helen looked to Tyler. She shook her head at her, displaying her disappointment. She looked back to Brett. "What the little girl isn't telling you ... is that the spring she's saying you can have ... you have to take!"

She grimaced at a sharp pain in her belly. Then she explained, "It's guarded ... by a dozen men, armed with firearms that are, in fact loaded." Her lips spread in a knowing smile. "And those men aren't even your biggest threat. They're just muscle ... muscle for the person who controls the spring and everything surrounding it. They call her Moonlight ... and she'll cut your throat as easily as you dispatched these assholes."

Helen looked around at the dead surrounding her. She didn't despise most of them the same way Tyler had. Some of them she hadn't cared too much for. But they'd been tight. She'd known all of them for a handful of years at least. Others had been with her since she was a child.

Still, seeing them laying here like this wasn't concerning her as much as Tyler probably thought it did. There was a reason for that, though. She had repeatedly suggested to the group that they needed to consider taking the spring for themselves. And they had repeatedly told her no. They'd been getting what they wanted from the spring: water, of course. But they hadn't been paying the cost themselves. Helen had. And she was very much tired of carrying the weight herself.

"I can get to Moonlight," Helen told him. She looked Brett over. He looked like a man who could take care of himself. And last night, he'd obviously proven it. Ironically, she wished she'd stayed around to watch him take on the others in the group. Too late now. "I can get to Moonlight, but ... you have to take care of her boys." She glanced around again, then looked back to Brett. Smirking, she said, "I'm sure you're up to it."

Putting her knife back where it had come from, Helen said, "Now are we good?"

 

[HumanBean]

Helen glanced to the shotgun in his hands and asked, "You know that thing's empty, right?"

Brett had never had much of a poker face, and he was sure that he reaction to the woman's claim was all too easy to see in his reaction.

"Go ahead," she said; no, she taunted. "Check it."

Brett hesitated; whether the gun was empty or not, he felt like an idiot, and he was really in no hurry to confirm that possibility. He pushed the break to the right with his thumb, letting the side-by-side barrels fall downward, exposing the pipes. The weapon was, indeed, very much unloaded. He snorted in dismay, shook his head, clicked the gun closed with a flick of the barrels upward, and looked back to Helen.

By this point, she'd armed herself with a pretty impressive knife. Brett dropped the gun to the ground and casually pulled out his own knives. Helen had been expecting that, of course; he could see it in her face and in the fact that she hadn't immediately attacked him while more vulnerable.

"No, not good," she told him, "Not without a better deal."

Helen explained about the realities of the spring, making an offer to help Brett take it from its current owners. She complemented him on his ability to put up a fight -- even if it had been against her own people -- telling him about the potential fight ahead, "I'm sure you're up to it."

She put her knife away and asked, "Now are we good?"

Brett studied her a moment, then did the same with the younger woman, then even looked to the kid. Hopper was smiling -- he was always smiling -- and Brett couldn't help but smile back to him. Looking to Helen as he casually put his own knives away, he said, "I'll ... entertain the idea. You get me there, I'll take a look, and ... maybe we'll move forward with this idea of yours."

He was conflicted on this whole idea. Despite the abilities he'd shown the previous evening, Brett wasn't inherently a violent man. The idea of using force -- lethal force -- to take something that belonged to someone else simply for the purpose of having it himself didn't really sit well with Brett.

But this was a clean, pure, radiation-free water source. This was like finding the Holy Grail, not that Brett knew what that historic relic actually was. He had to at least consider the plan. When they got there and he learned that it was a hopeless task, he could always find a way to acquire as much water as he could carry and then get out of Dodge -- again, the meaning of the phrase regarding the Kansas city was unknown to him, but what the hell, Brett at least knew the saying.

"You got any shells for this?" he asked, picking up the shotgun. Helen told him no. Brett had no interest in carrying the heavy weapon and tossed it through the air to her. He looked between the two women with a hard expression, then warned them, "Just one time, you try to pull something ... you backstab me in any way ... double cross me--"

He looked directly at Tyler, telling her, "--I cut the boy open and rape you to death while he bleeds out." He waited for her reaction if there was one coming, then looked to Helen. "You I'll fuck with my biggest knife and leave to bleed out under the sun."

Brett didn't actually plan on doing any of this, of course. In fact, even in the face of the worst betrayal, he doubted that he could ever bring himself to do something so horrific. No, he'd just slice the women's necks and -- maybe -- take the boy with him; he could find some family that would trade him clean water, hot food, and fresh clothes for a young slave-to-be.

He looked between the two women, then asked Helen one last time, "We good?"

If all was well, he would suggest that they gathered anything and everything of value and start the presumably long trek for their destination.

 

[PennySaver]

"I'll ... entertain the idea," Brett told Helen. He asked about the shotgun, "You got any shells for this?"

"If I did, they'd be in it, wouldn't they?" she snapped. "An unloaded long gun is nothing but a club, duh."

Brett tossed the weapon to her. He warned the pair of them about betraying them. The warning was very graphic. Helen had no doubt that Brett could do something like that. She'd seen other men do similarly horrific things. Hell, she'd seen Moonlight do such things, and she was a woman!

Once more, Brett asked, "We good?"

Helen returned the sawed-off shotgun to the holster strapped to her thigh as she stepped slowly closer to Brett. She stopped within his reach. She stared directly in the eyes for a moment. Then, barely above a whisper, she told him, "Threaten anything you want to me or Barbie over there ... but if you ever touch the kid ... I'll cut your balls off, fry'em up, and eat them before your eyes ... right before I cut them out and eat them, too."

She cocked her head a bit, raising her eyebrows. And just as Brett had, she once again repeated, "We good?"

Helen hesitated as if wanting a response from Brett. But before he could say anything, if he was going to, she half turned her head and commanded, "Search the packs, Barbie!"

Helen turned away from Brett, continuing, "Water, food, weapons, medicinal ... particularly the Anti-Rad's."

She began going through the deads' pockets and packs. "If you don't know whether it's of value, ask. The only stupid question is the one not asked."

Tyler had stood silent and still through the exchange between Brett and Helen. Now, she moved toward the man who apparently was now part of her group. Part of? Helen's group? Part of his own group? It was confusing to say the least. Who was in charge now? Tyler wasn't. She knew that much.

When she was few steps from Brett, she gave him a pleased smile. With a sincere tone, she said, "It's nice to meet you, Brett." She looked around at the bodies, then back to him. "These guys. They, um ... in case you're wondering, they weren't my friends or anything like that. I didn't really like most of them. They weren't very nice to me."

Tyler could have gone on and on about how the dead group members had been not very nice to her. But Helen snapped at her, "Barbie! Get to work!"

She flinched at the chastising, then chuckled nervously. She told Brett in that same soft voice, "I tell you this because I don't want you to think I ... um, how do you say it...? I don't hold any bad will against you for killing them. Ill will, right? Ill will."

She took a step closer as she glanced momentarily at Helen. She shrugged and said softly to Brett, "I don't know why she calls me Barbie, but I don't mind. It's kinda cute."

Tyler looked down to Hopper again. The boy was clinging an arm around her thigh and staring up with his usual smile. She told Brett, "This is Hopper. They call him that because he never stops moving. You know, hopping around like a flea. They used to call him Flea. But I like Hopper. It kinda stuck."

She looked down to the boy again and said, "Say hello to the nice man who's going to help us, Hopper."

"Hello," Hopper said. He offered out a hand. Then, still smiling, he asked, "Are you going to kill me and rape Tyler and Helen? That wouldn't be nice." He looked to Tyler, asking with a sincere tone, "Would it?"

Tyler only looked to Brett for his response. She needed to help Helen search for valuable resources. But she was interested in Brett's answer to the boy's question.

 

[HumanBean]

Brett couldn't help but smirk just a bit near the end of Helen's very graphic threat to his manhood. He wondered for a moment whether she could bring herself to do something so horrifically violent any more than he could regarding his own threat. An answer didn't come to him.

She growled, "We good?"

He respected Helen's maternal concern for Hopper, assuming that that was what was behind the threat. He didn't know either of the three people before him enough to make judgements about what drove them or about what they may or may not care about. He nodded his head lightly and was about to tell her they were good when she just turned away from him and began barking out orders to the younger woman.

Brett had been surprised several times in the last 12 hours, and the surprises weren't over yet. Tyler walked up to him without any fear or hesitation in her expression or body language, telling him, "It's nice to meet you, Brett."

"Um, nice to meet you, too," Brett said tentatively. He looked down to the boy who was -- again or still? -- smiling up at him. Wondering whether or not Hopper's wheel had all its spokes, Brett winked to the kid, saying, "Nice to meet you, too, Hopper."

Tyler explained her feelings regarding the dead that surrounded them, saying among other things, "They weren't very nice to me."

Brett wondered whether not very nice included a degree of sexual abuse. He himself had already had several lewd thoughts regarding the young beauty; it wasn't a stretch to imagine that one or more -- maybe even all -- of the men in her former traveling group had had a go-around with her.

"Barbie! Get to work!"

Brett and Tyler both flinched at the other woman's sharp command. The younger woman explained about not holding any ill will toward Brett, which he found one of the most surprising things so far. He didn't know about the relationships between Tyler and the others, obviously, but he found himself very eager to pick up some of the details in the very near future.

Of course, maybe it would be better not to know. Abuse -- whether sexual or not -- was a traumatic experience for anyone, particularly a young, possibly vulnerable woman. Maybe it would be to Tyler's advantage -- and perhaps Bretts as time went on -- if she was able to just forget that had happened between her and the men (and one woman) that he had killed.

Brett didn't respond to Tyler's comment about Barbie, even though he knew where the name came from. Instead, he shared further introductions with Hopper, shaking the kid's hand and winking at him again.

Then, with his perma-smile, Hopper asked, "Are you going to kill me and rape Tyler and Helen? That wouldn't be nice." the kid looked for verification from Tyler: "Would it?"

When the younger woman looked to him for a response, Brett looked down to Hopper and answered, "No, it wouldn't be nice. And no, I'm not going to kill any of you."

"Or rape any of us," Hopper asked.

Brett couldn't help but chuckle, even if maybe it wasn't the appropriate moment for humor. He reassured Hopper, "No ... no one's getting raped. Like you said, that wouldn't be nice."

Feeling as though the boy needed some further reassurance, Brett lowered to his knees before the boy. "I'm not going to hurt you, Hopper ... you or Tyler..." He leaned a bit to aim his voice at the older woman and continued more loudly, "...not even Helen, believe it or not." He looked back to the boy, finishing, "Not only am I not going to hurt you, Hopper ... I'm not going to let anyone else hurt you. I promise."

They shook hands again -- and to Brett's surprise, the boy surged forward and threw his arms around his neck, hugging him with all his might. Brett laughed in surprise, and when the two of them separated, he rose to his feet, offered his hand again, and asked, "Friends?"

The two males shook, and with that finished, they went to work gathering all they thought they should keep. The quantity and weight were a bit too much for the 3 and 1/2 of them to carry; they loaded a good deal of their salvage on one of the two wheeled carts, and -- grabbing the long handles and wrapping the leather lead harness on him as if he was a horse or mule -- Brett gave the cart a hearty pull to get it moving and called out, "Okay, let's get this caravan on the move."

 

[PennySaver]

Tyler was quickly coming to like Brett. That made no sense, of course. She'd only just met the man a few minutes earlier. Yesterday, he'd killed most of her traveling companions. Today he'd threatened her with acts of rape, murder, and necrophilia. And he'd threatened the lives of the only other two people in her life, one for whom she cared a great deal and one for whom she at least had great respect.

But something told her that she could trust and depend on him. Perhaps she was simply naive. Perhaps she was too trusting. Or perhaps she was right on the money about Brett. Only time would tell. As violent as he'd shown himself to be last night, Tyler didn't think he presented a threat to her.

When it was time to leave, Helen pointed to the north. Off they went, without any further discussion about route or destination. If Brett were to ask for specifics, Helen would ignore him. She didn't trust him yet as Tyler did. She wasn't giving him the specifics on how to find the water source that he'd made so clear was important to him. What would prevent him from simply abandoning them?

Water was, of course, important to all of them. But there had been enough water between the group's members to get them to their next destination. Helen would have been perfectly fine continuing south as they had been. But now, there was an opportunity to be had. A profitable one.

They took a break every hour or so through the morning for rest and rehydration. The third hour, Helen and Tyler took the cart, giving Brett a rest.

Despite being late March, the temperature was in the 90s by high sun. Helen spotted a shadowed place under an overhang and ordered, "We're stopping until the sun goes down."

They opened two pre-collapse cans of food, hoping for a miracle. One was a can of beans that had gone bad. The smell once Tyler broke the seal with a manual can opener nearly made her puke. The second was fruit cocktail, and it had survived the decades since its packaging. The fruit was kind of soft and mushy. But it tasted fine and had the sugar they needed. They ate some dried rabbit meat, assorted edible seeds, and cactus cookies. They weren't really cookies, of course. But they were made of cactus. And they were a favorite of young Hopper.

Tyler spread a blanket in the shade. She laid down with the boy. Before closing her eyes, she smiled invitingly to Brett and told him, "You can lay with us if you want."

Helen heard and saw the exchange but ignored it. She found an ant colony under a rock and decided to supplement her protein intake. She teased a pine needle in the ground level hole beneath which the colony was hidden. A dozen or more soldier ants would cling to the invading needle. She would strip them all off into her palm and roll them to death before eating them as sort of a goo ball. They were both soft and crunchy and tasted sort of zesty, like an orange. Not everyone appreciated ant. But not everyone understood their nutritional value, either.

 

[HumanBean]

Brett did, in fact, ask Helen for specifics on their destination, only to be ignored. She didn't trust him; that was a gimme. Honestly, he didn't blame her. Also honestly, he was keeping secrets from her and Tyler, too.

The cart wasn't too much of a burden at first, but by their second break, Brett had just broke into a serious sweat. Out here in this environment with limited water availability, sweating was a no-no. The girls took over the cart for the next hour, with Brett at the back a few times, simply helping them navigate some rough patches.

Finally, Helen insisted they break for an extended period until the temperature began to drop. Brett knew that that meant they wouldn't be going anywhere until very near to or even after sunset. Tyler and Hopper set about making a meal, which resulted in some humor when the girl opened a long spoiled can of beans. Brett contributed some jerked meat; it was mostly but certainly not all desert hare.

Brett found Hopper's delight with cactus cookies delightful to his own self. The boy was what Brett's grandfather would have called tetched; Brett didn't know about autism any more than the two women did, and he attributed the boy's peculiarities to the effects of having been born and lived in a world dosed by the nuclear detonations that had killed and continued to kill so very many people.

Mentally different as he was, Hopper was becoming a joy to Brett. The boy spent a lot of time moving back and forth between the three adults for any number of reasons; Brett fully understood the nickname Hopper by now. Sometimes the boy was delivering water or food; sometimes he was showing off a plant or bug he'd found; sometimes he was simply looking to visit with someone new to that moment in his life.

Whatever the reason for his constant hurrying about, Hopper very easily passed out in the shade of the overhang once he'd taken a moment to rest on a blanket Tyler had laid out for him. Brett took a few minutes to look around for signs of scurrying about by mammals, reptiles, and birds, then set some wire snares all about their resting site. It was quite fortunate that by the time he'd the last of his traps, the little, faded-red flag of the second one he'd rigged was flapping up high, indicating that it had already done its job. Brett returned to it, finding a rabbit very much dead after the wire had caught it around its neck. He removed the animal, reset the snare, and headed back to the shade to process the beast.

"You can lay with us if you want."

Brett looked to find Tyler patting the blanket next to her, indicating a place for him to rest. He couldn't help but immediately fantasize laying naked with the young beauty, pulling her body -- perfect and delicious in his imaginings -- hard up to him as he rammed his hardened cock deep inside her young, tight pussy.

Of course, the 8-year-old boy next to her was a bit of a cock-block, as was the other woman who was nearby, performing some task. Brett looked to Helen and thought he saw her shake her head lightly in dismay. Perhaps he had only imagined it. Either way, he only smiled to Tyler and made a gesture meant as a pass.

"I'm going to take care of this rabbit," he told her as he pulled out a knife to get started. "You feel free to get some rest, though."

Brett slaughtered the rabbit, cutting the meat into strips to be dried in the sun and spreading the fur in a bowed frame he'd been carrying with him for years. He used just the slightest amount of water to clean his hands and his knife. Then, he sat back against a boulder to rest and, exhausted, fell asleep in little time at all.

His sleeping ability had been described as an act of magic by his grandfather. Brett could sleep through the loudest of distractions if his subconscious believed them not to be a threat, but the moment his brain screamed danger, danger, his eyes were open, and his hand was going for his knife.

When that unique ability of his awoke him with a start, Brett found that darkness had fallen. Instinctively, he snatched a blade from his belt and held it before him ... only to realize that the danger that had brought him back to the world of the living was a danger he was more than willing to face: Tyler with her breasts bared, apparently for his appreciation and, presumably, enjoyment.

Brett's eyes swelled ... as his cock also began to do just a short moment later. She was incredible, absolute perfection; he'd imagined her looking like this, but now that he saw her, Brett was mystified as to how -- in this world -- any woman could look so beautiful.

He looked for Helen, finding her laying on yet another blanket, seemingly sound asleep. Looking back to the young godess, Brett simply whispered, "What's on your mind, Tyler?"

 

[PennySaver]

Tyler playfully pouted out her bottom lip when Brett told her he'd rather gut a rabbit than lay down next to her for a siesta. Men always wanted to lay with her. Whether she liked it or not, she'd come to learn that it was her primary reason for existing. She didn't hunt. She didn't process dead animals. She barely cooked.

But men liked to fuck her. Her parents had protected her from the sexual appetites of men as long as they could. But her introduction to sexual servitude had been unavoidable. After she'd lost her parents, no one had been there to protect her. Sometimes, one man claimed her for himself. Other times, she was a play thing for many men.

Three of the males from this last group partook of her when the urge struck them. Occasionally though not so often as to destroy her mentally or emotionally, all three of them would have her in a single night. She toughed it out, then went on. She understood that if she didn't give these men what they wanted, they would cast her aside. Or worse, kill her.

Tyler doubted that she could survive in the wasteland on her own.

Despite the way men had treated her in the past, Tyler was actually eager to lay with Brett. She had already concluded that he would take care of her and be good to her. Of course, she had no evidence to support such thinking. Just yesterday, he'd killed five people. Then he'd threatened her life.

Maybe it was the fact that she'd killed the men who'd been using her as a plaything that made her feel good about him. That made no sense, of course. At least, it wouldn't to anyone else but Tyler. It made perfect sense to her, though.

After Brett denied her, Tyler didn't close her eyes immediately. She peeked over the crooked arm laying before her face to watch him as he worked. He finished with the rabbit amazingly fast. It impressed Tyler even further. She was certain that he could and would take care of her if she asked to be his woman.

Occasionally, Brett glanced about and let his gaze fall upon her. Tyler pretended to be asleep. She couldn't know whether he'd seen her watching him or not. She didn't really care one way or the other.

Sleep did come to her, though. When she awoke, the wasteland was in twilight. Tyler checked on Hopper, who was sound asleep. He'd slipped up closer to her and pulled the edge of the blanket over him. The temperature had dropped, but it was still comfortably warm.

She sat up to look for Helen. The older woman was also asleep, on a blanket several yards away. Helen had often slept apart from the others. She despised snoring men and chatty women. Hopper had often slept beside her. He had last night, which was how she'd snatched his hand to flee the fight.

Tyler looked around for Brett. She found him leaning back against a boulder, also asleep. She rose carefully and quietly. She wrapped Hopper in even more of the blanket. He murmured softly yet remained asleep.

She made her way ever so quietly toward the adult male. She stopped a few steps short of him. She studied him in silence for a long time.

Then, she slipped her vest off her shoulders and her tee shirt up and beyond her head. She wore no bra, and her young, firm breasts showed virtually no surrender to gravity. The sudden exposure caused her pinkish-brown nipples to harden to firm nubs.

Before she'd laid down, Tyler had already taken off her utility-style belt that held a great number of small possessions she favored. She now removed the sarong-like skirt she wore over her little denim shorts to help protect her legs from the wasteland's many flying insects.

She'd taken her eyes off Brett. When she now looked at him again, he was staring at her with widened eyes. Tyler's nearly naked body was well illuminated by the low-lying moon. For reasons she didn't understand, she suddenly felt a twinge of shyness. She clutched her hands before her and just waited for some response from the man.

"What's on your mind, Tyler?" he finally asked.

"I just thought you would want to be with me tonight," she said. She stepped closer, clearing her throat softly. "You can if you want. I don't mind."

One more step closer, and she carefully lowered herself to her knees. She was within his reach, should he decide he wanted to touch her. She smiled timidly. "I ... I think I'd like to be with you, Brett. I like you."

 

[HumanBean]

"I just thought you would want to be with me tonight," Tyler told Brett. "You can if you want. I don't mind."

She made the offer to him in such a simple, straight forward way; she could have been asking him if he wanted to share a can of fruit with him or play a guessing game while they walked, much as she had with Hopper during the day's earlier trekking.

Brett did, of course, want to be with her, more so than she could possibly imagine. It had been quite a while since a woman had put his cock in one of her holes and driven him to orgasm. Earlier, he'd tried to recall the last time he'd had sex with anyone other than Rosy Palm. This was what, March? Maybe April. It had been back in early fall, if he remembered, so five, six, maybe seven months.

Tyler came closer, kneeling close to him, near enough for him to take her by the arm and pull her body in tight against his. Brett took in the perfection of her young, firm breasts, and wanted to badly to take one of their hard nipples into his mouth. He shifted his sitting position a bit, trying to relief the pressure being put on his now hard-as-rock cock from the awkward way in which it had gone from limp to fully solidified in a matter of seconds.

"I ... I think I'd like to be with you, Brett," Tyler said as she smiled timidly. "I like you."

Brett's gaze had been moving up and down from the beauty's two very different pairs of orbs. Her perfectly shaped titties were absolutely mesmerizing, and yet Brett found her dark green eyes hypnotic as well. He cleared his throat as she had, looked off in the direction of the others -- both still sleeping as far as he could tell -- and then looked back to Tyler again.

"I want nothing more than to be with you," Brett told her with a soft voice. Again, he took in the wonder of her youthful bosom, then looked up to add, "But I ... I don't think this is the right time. Maybe ... soon ... another day ... after we've gotten to know each other a little bit more."

Brett couldn't believe he was turning down an offer of sex from this Goddess of the Wasteland. Tyler was everything he could possibly want in a lover, whether for a single shot in the night or a lasting relationship. And yet, he just couldn't take her like this, on their first day of traveling together, with Helen and Hopper sleeping just yards away. Brett wondered for a moment whether or not the two of them could slip away a bit farther for some privacy. But he quickly dismissed that thought, knowing that being caught by either of the other two with his cock buried deep in Tyler wasn't the point at all.

He could see the disappointment in the girl's face, and not wanting her to feel rejected, Brett reassured her, "Tyler, you are the most incredible girl ... woman, I have ever seen--" His eyes fell to her breasts again, and he waved a hand nervously before himself to indicate that he was referring to her state of undress. He continued, "--like this ... and I would love nothing more than to be with you ... oh ... in so many different ways."

The various positions Brett imagined taking Tyler in caused his already-pained erection to twitch with even more discomfort. "But ... I think you are offering this to me because ... well ... you think that you have to do it so that I will protect you from harm ... protect you from other people ... people like those you were traveling with before I came along."

Brett did reach out now, but it was only to take Tyler's hand for a comforting squeeze. "Listen to me, and believe what I say." He pulled her a bit closer as he himself leaned forward. With a sincere tone, he promised, "No one will hurt you while I am with you. I promise. You and Hopper and even Helen are under my protection. And you don't need to be with me to make me want to keep you safe."

He gave her a moment to consider what he'd said, then added while smiling and giving her beautiful female curves one last ogle, "When ... if ... we are with each other one day in the future ... hopefully not too far in the future ... it won't be because one or both of us thinks the other owes us something. It will be because we both want nothing more from each other than the pleasure I'm sure awaits us."

 

[PennySaver]

"I want nothing more than to be with you," Brett began.

That made Tyler feel good. It made her feel as though she was doing something right. She smiled.

"But I ... I don't think this is the right time."

Tyler's smile began to fade. She listened to Brett politely reject her.

He complimented her. "Tyler, you are the most incredible girl ... woman, I have ever seen ... like this ... and I would love nothing more than to be with you ... oh ... in so many different ways."

That made her smile again. Tyler had always known she was physically appealing to men. A few women had even wanted her. Hell, one had!

So it was nice to hear Brett say this to her. He went on. He talked about how she felt she needed to let men have sex with her to garner their protection. That was true in her mind, of course.

It was funny, though, how no one had ever told Tyler that that might be a bad thing. Until now.

Brett went on. He promised, "No one will hurt you while I am with you."

Then, Brett told her that if they ever were together sexually, it would be for their mutual pleasure and nothing more. Tyler had never done that before, of course. Sex simply for her own pleasure. If that ever happened, it would be a new and possibly exciting experience.

"It will be because we both want nothing more from each other," Brett told her, "than the pleasure I'm sure awaits us."

She contemplated that idea. She smiled. Then she simply responded, "Okay."

Tyler moved forward to wrap her arms around Brett's neck. She squeezed him tightly. She pulled back and kissed him on the cheek. And then standing, she began gathering and donning her clothes.

There was one last smile back to Brett. Then Tyler laid down with Hopper again, pulling him to her for warmth.

Helen had awoken and watched the exchange between the other two. She hadn't been about to intercede. Brett getting to fuck Tyler only strengthened the bond between them all. It bettered Helen's plan to deal with Moonlight.

But she wasn't disappointed to see Brett deny Tyler either. The girl had had had it rough because of the kind of men she'd recently had in her life.

Helen hadn't helped with that, of course. Sometimes she felt guilty about it. Other times she was happy that it wasn't her that the male members of the group wanted to fuck. It was good to have the little cutie pie around.

She rose from her bedding and crossed to stand over Brett. She told him, "That was noble of you. Noble...? That's the right word, right?"

They talked momentarily about their plan. Helen said she would stand watch for a while to let Brett sleep.

"I'll wake you before dawn," she suggested. "We can start walking again before it gets hot. We'll be there in two, maybe three days."

If he was done talking, Helen would go find a place to sit and watch over the camp.

 

[HumanBean]

When Tyler moved close and wrapped her arms around him -- pressing her bared and perfect bosom against his own chest -- Brett instinctively wrapped his arms around her torso ... and almost didn't let go. He wanted so badly just to lay her down on the ground beside him, pull those little denim shorts off of her, and fuck her hard and fast until he exploded inside her like one of the many bombs that had left their world destroyed so many years before the girl's own birth.

But, to use a word, he surely would have destroyed something valuable if he were to give in to that lustful urge that was causing his cock to twitch anxiously and somewhat painfully, the way it was so awkwardly caught in his pants and underwear at the moment. Tyler seemed to actually like Brett, ridiculous as that would seem considering the things that had taken place in the past day; and there was a growing opportunity for the three adults here now to gain a great deal if Helen's plan regarding Moonlight were to succeed. One fuck could deprive Brett of the heist of a lifetime.

Of course, they could all arrive at the heavily guarded spring and get themselves killed, too. Then what would Brett's little head have to say to his big one?

Yet, when Tyler began to pull away, Brett let her. It was hard; the feel of her body against his own was almost too much, but he'd managed to do what he hoped was the right thing. Then she kissed him on the cheek before once again moving off, laying down to cuddle with the boy.

Brett was still looking the younger woman's direction when the older one got up to come stand over him. "That was noble of you. Noble...? That's the right word, right?"

Brett couldn't help but murmur, "Stupid might be a better word."

He looked up to Helen and studied her in the same moonlight that had just been illuminating Tyler's wondrous tits. He almost asked the other woman if she wanted to show him her own but didn't. Helen was a beautiful woman as well, and giving the chance, Brett would lay her on her back and give her the same hard, fast fuck that he'd just passed on with Tyler.

"It's probably too late to pack up our shit and get on the move again," Brett told Helen. The moon was low on the western horizon and would disappear soon, but it would be another few hours before the sun rose in the east to once again give them light for night time traveling. Such movement on an old, grown over road was potentially hazardous and simply not worth gaining a few extra miles. Brett looked toward Tyler and Hopper again, then said, "I think we could all use the rest, I guess."

Then he looked up to Helen again and asked, "Thoughts? You know where we're going and what the road ahead looks like better than me."

It wasn't like Brett hadn't been down this road -- literally -- in the past. But it had been a few years, and things changed, particularly the security situation regarding who might or might be guarded the territory ahead. He and Helen weren't the only apocalypse survivors out here in this wasteland carrying blades and firearms, some of which might actually be working.

"I'll wake you before dawn," Helen suggested. "We can start walking again before it gets hot. We'll be there in two, maybe three days."

Brett wondered why only now Helen was willing to share the timeframe of their arrival at the spring only now. She'd surely seen and heard what had taken place between he and Tyler just minutes earlier; had she suddenly come to respect him enough for not defiling the younger, vulnerable woman to actually share some of the details with him? Or -- since Brett didn't have anything close to a destination direction yet -- did Helen simply know that she hadn't actually told him much of value.

Whatever the reason, Brett responded, "Make it just as the sky begins to lighten. We're going to need as much of a head start on the heat as we can get."

The conversation between them seemed to be over, so Helen wandered off to find a place to sit and watch over the camp. Brett waited a couple of minutes, then quietly rose to his feet and wandered away as well, in the opposite direction. He found a spot fairly well hidden within some rocks, unfastened everything that was keeping his pants tight around his hips, pulled them to just below his muscular ass, and dropped to his knees. He was still more hard than not, and it only took a few seconds of gripping his shaft to cause him to return to rock hardness.

It also took only a few seconds for him to begin spewing forth strings of thick goo out onto the arid earth before him. Brett tried his best to restrain his audible reaction to the euphoria of orgasm, but -- try as he might -- he grunted just loud enough to possibly be heard by anyone up and alert on what was an otherwise quiet night in the desert. Instinctively, Brett's free hand had reached out as his body tilted forward, catching and supporting the weight above as he rode out the delight of his cock jerking repeatedly in his hand. He maintained his three-legged dog position as his head swam in the joy of climax, then sat back to rest his haunches on his calves. His heart pounded fiercely; he hadn't cum -- alone or with a second person -- in weeks, and the physical joy of it all was overwhelming and badly needed.

He just sat there for the longest time, holding his slowly diminishing erection gently in his hand, until finally it was time to return to the reality of his world. He used the sand and the bottle of water he'd carried out into the desert with him to clean off his hand, then more carefully did the same with his cock. Then, standing to dress once again, he made his way quietly back to the camp, sat, and drifted off to sleep again.

The sky to the east was beginning to lighten when Helen awoke him, and within minutes, they were once again on the road heading north. Brett would occasionally make eye contact with the others, sometimes sharing a reassuring smile with them. Hopper was his usual energetic self, moving from one adult to the other to whisper about this or that. At one point, he took hold of Brett's hand -- his clean hand, thankfully -- and held onto it for a while through rougher than average territory. Brett didn't honestly think the boy needed help traversing the terrain; Hopper was simply a friendly little chap and had come to like Brett, as Tyler herself said she had, too.

Regarding the younger of the two woman, Brett had a difficult time not recalling the wonder of her bared breasts from just hours earlier. He hadn't sworn off the idea that he might one day very soon have them in his hands, kneading them hungrily as he pumped his cock in and out of her, rather than in and out of his palm and curled fingers. And, honestly, he sometimes had similar thoughts about the slightly older and yet still wonderfully shaped older woman as well. Brett was lucky to have the traveling partners he did, even if he couldn't be absolutely certain about the future of their relationship.

The one good thing about the fantasies filling Brett's head is that it made traveling time toward their distant destination pass more quickly.

 

[PennySaver]

Helen had almost laughed at Brett's description of passing on sex with Tyler as being stupid. Minutes later, she heard a sound that she thought just might be the man climaxing inside the young woman after all. But Helen could see the still sleeping younger woman from where she sat atop a large boulder. No, if what she heard was a man's grunt of satisfaction, it had nothing to do with the pleasure of Tyler's warm, wet pussy.

Helen smiled at the thought of Brett sneaking off to beat his pud. Tyler could drive a man crazy even without exposing her body. Having seen the girl bear her chest to Brett, Helen would have been surprised if the man hadn't snuck off for some privacy.

For a moment, Helen partook of her own imagination. She considered what Brett's cock might look like if he were to let it out, as Tyler had her tits. He was a bit man, tall and brawny. Helen imagined that his cock was similarly shaped. Long and thick. She felt a twinge between her thighs. It had been a while since she, too, had gotten laid. Not as long as Brett, probably. She'd been bumping uglies with one of the men Brett had killed just barely more than 24 hours ago. But they hadn't been together for more than a moon. No reason. Just that way.

Perhaps if he wasn't going to part Tyler's thighs, Brett might open Helen's instead. She'd probably let him. Not now. Not tonight. But maybe soon. After Moonlight. Definitely after they'd dealt with Moonlight. Presuming they were both still alive.

Dawn was coming when Helen returned to where Brett slept. He was very attentive of his surroundings. He awoke even as she was nearing him. Survival instincts, she presumed.

He got up and put his things together. Helen awoke Tyler, who in turn awoke Hopper. And minutes later, they were moving down the road. Helen got kind of a kick out of the young boy's interactions with Brett. Hopper had always been a good judge of character. He'd known which of Helen's now-dead traveling partners to play with and which to avoid.

They again shared responsibility for pulling the cart. Brett took an hour, then Helen and Tyler together. The switched off and on at water and rest breaks. There wasn't a great deal of conversation during the first half of the morning. Occasionally, the adults told stories or gave information about the territory through which they were passing.

Helen asked Brett how he'd learned to use his knives so well. She didn't know if he'd share that tale with her or not.

Tyler had been more interested in Brett's life, though. She asked him whether or not he'd been married or had a woman in his life for whom he'd cared; whether or not he had children; and, if so, whether or not they were still alive someplace, waiting for his return. Again, she didn't know if he'd share. But she both wanted to know and wanted to seem friendly.

 

[HumanBean]

Brett had taken responsibility of pulling the cart for the first hour without question. It was a bit lighter now, with nearly 5 gallons of water -- 40 pounds -- no longer on it. Plus, over the course of the day, they'd discarded a few things that they'd decided they didn't need after all. Helen and Tyler pulled the vehicle the second hour, and Brett took back the reins again after that.

"Out of necessity," was the answer Brett had given Helen when she asked him how he'd learned to use his knives so well. He initially felt a bit awkward describing his skills with the weapons he'd used to kill her five traveling partners. But he could see she was really looking for an answer, so he talked about being raised by his grandfather and about the martial arts training he'd had as a child. "Initially, I worked only with my body ... hands and feet. Later, when the world truly began to fall apart, he taught me to use a staff ... then nun chucks ... then blades." Some memories -- good and bad both -- filled his mind before he added, "I'm pretty good with a bow and spear, too, not that those are specifically martial arts weapons."

Brett looked to the shotgun still strapped to Helen's thigh. He asked, "Why do you carry that if you have no shells?"

He knew that there was a chance that one day she might come across some ammunition for the 12 gauge. But in the meantime, it just seemed like a lot of unnecessary weight to lug around.

When he was once again in front of the cart, Tyler came to lend a hand; more than anything, she just wanted to talk. Her questions were more personal.

"No, I haven't been married," Brett answered to the first one. He asked seriously, "Does anyone do that anymore?"

He was surprised to learn that the woman he'd killed the night they all wet had been married to one of the men he'd also slain. He nearly apologized, as if killing a married couple had been any worse than killing a couple of single folk. But then he remembered that he hadn't started the fight -- he'd only ended it.

"No, I don't have any children, either," he told Tyler. Of course, that might not be entirely true. He'd fucked a lot of women during his adult years, and there was no birth control anymore beyond abstinence, withdrawal, and calendar planning. And really, none of them had held any interest for him when the time to get it on had come around. Hopper had been palling around with Brett again, and the older male commented to Tyler about the boy, "Though, it seems like I might have picked me up a sort-of-son in little ball-o'-energy here."

Brett looked ahead to Helen, who'd been leading them by a good sixty yards for the last half an hour or so. "What about her ... and what about you, Tyler? You're an adult. You been married off yet? Has Helen?"

He was concerned that he might be treading into some sensitive territory, asking Tyler about her personal life. But he'd started the question before he considered the ramifications...

 

[PennySaver]

Helen was impressed with Brett's history. The survivors of the end of the world had been survivors typically because they'd been special in one way or another. Brett had had a teacher, his grandfather. She respected that. He'd had a mentor. More importantly, he'd respected that mentor.

Brett asked about the shotgun, "Why do you carry that if you have no shells?"

"Because one day I will have shells," she answered. It was the response he'd been expecting. "When I do, I want the body memory of having it right there where it is."

Tyler joined Helen to pull the cart for a while. Brett was a few yards ahead of them. Even though he didn't ask, Helen talked about her training a bit, too.

"I was the daughter of a soldier," she began. "Special Forces. When the war broke out, he was home on leave. He didn't go back. He didn't like to talk about his service. I think it was because he deserted."

Beside her, Tyler shot her a look of surprise. Helen had never explained any of this to her. Perhaps it was because Tyler had never asked. Maybe she should have.

"My mother said there was no reason for him to report back to his unit," she continued. "Their task was to keep America safe, so he did ... by staying with my mother and me."

She hesitated, recalling her life. "She died first ... my mother. Then he did a couple of years later. They were both eaten alive by the radiation."

"I'm sorry," Tyler whispered from near her.

"I was sick some, too. But I lived through it. He'd taught me -- my father, I mean -- to use rifles, pistols ... shotguns ... back when there was still a lot of ammo around. He taught me to fight, too. I've never sliced up five people before."

Brett glanced back at her. She was, of course, referring to the night before last. She smiled to him. "But I think I could defend myself against one or two at a time if I needed to."

They traveled on a bit farther before she said without being asked, "You didn't kill anyone back there who was special to me. You know, in case you were concerned. I was fucking one of the guys sometimes. When I wanted to ... not when he did. And the woman ... sometimes her, too."

Tyler giggled. She'd caught the other two women going at it one night off away from the camp. The other woman had chased Tyler off, throwing rocks at her. She'd hit her, too, though she'd done no damage. Tyler had asked Helen about it later. Helen had told her it was just something women sometimes did when they wanted to feel good without a man. Tyler didn't know that some women didn't ever want men. That was an unknown to Tyler.

Sometime after that, at a trading post, a well-to-do woman had solicited sex from the two women. She'd offered them water, food, and other supplies for what she'd called an evening of ecstasy for all. Helen had taken the offer without input from Tyler.

The younger of the two women had already been servicing men, more often than not against her will. Servicing a woman didn't seem all that different. In face, she'd liked it a little more. The woman had pleasured Tyler, too. In fact, the encounter had resulted in Tyler's first and only orgasm to date.

Tyler would later hint to Helen that if she wanted to do that again, she was willing. Helen had told her, "Just stick with the boys, girlie."

Brett stopped short when he spotted some shade. He suggested an early than planned rest. They distributed some food and water. Regarding the dead, Helen told Brett, "I just wanted you to know that if I have to kill you at some point ... it won't be because you killed someone I loved ... or even liked very much."

"Me neither," Tyler spoke up quickly. She'd already told Brett that, of course. But she wanted to participate in the conversation.

Once again with Brett at the cart, Tyler joined him. He spoke of having no wife or kids. He admitted that Hopper seemed to be filling the position of son, though. He asked, "What about her ... and what about you, Tyler? You're an adult. You been married off yet? Has Helen?"

"I don't think so," she said. She was looking at and referring to Helen. She giggled again. "No one wants to marry me." When Brett shot a look at her, she asked, "Why would anyone marry me? I can't cook. I can't sew or make things out of furs. And they can fuck me any time they want. I mean, isn't that why people got married? So they could fuck all the time. And have babies. I can't have babies. I don't think so, anyway. I know where babies come from, and I haven't had one yet. Men fuck me all the time, and I haven't had a baby yet."

Tyler looked to Brett and smiled wide. She blushed as she said, "I'd have your baby."

She didn't clarify or expand. She just made the statement and went on pulling the cart.

 

[HumanBean]

Brett would find himself just as impressed with Helen's history as -- unknown to him -- she'd found herself impressed with his. And -- despite the sense of honor and duty his grandfather had bestowed in him -- Brett found no fault with Helen's father's refusal to return to service when his family needed him to stay home. Maybe if more people had thought about what the war would mean to their families, there wouldn't have been a war in the first place.

He did find it interesting that Tyler seemed to be hearing some of Helen's details for the first time. Had the two women never gotten personal to this level? And as far as personal went, Brett felt a bit of a twinge in his crotch when he heard Helen talking about having had sexual encounters with other women -- or, at least, one woman. Despite the world having nearly been destroyed, some men -- this man for certain -- still enjoyed fantasizing about women being together in that most intimate of ways.

Brett caught Tyler's giggle at Helen's declaration, too. His mind was suddenly filled with images of the younger woman's head between the older woman's thighs, as the latter cried out in deep and satisfying orgasm. He'd find himself suffering such fantasies off and on for a while.

Shortly after, Brett took Helen's place pulling the cart. Tyler joined him, trying to help, though, sometimes it only seemed to put Brett off his balance. Brett asked Tyler if she had been married. Tyler giggled again, saying, "No one wants to marry me. Why would anyone marry me?"

She listed her only contribution to a marriage being that of sex, then commented "I can't have babies."

Brett watched her intently as she talked about believing that she was infertile. "Men fuck me all the time, and I haven't had a baby yet."

Tyler understood the importance of being able to have children, particularly in this post-atomic war era when so many women were infertile and many of those who were not birthed children with serious defects and, sometimes, very short lifespans. Brett glanced to Hopper and thought about the boy's future. The 8-year-old showed no obvious physical defects that might limit his own lifespan, but Brett feared that his mental irregularity -- autism, unknown to Brett -- would one day get him in trouble; Hopper had a tendency of making friends quickly, and often new friends were simply enemies who hadn't revealed themselves yet.

"I'd have your baby," Tyler suddenly announced to Brett before turning her attention back to pulling the cart.

Brett only stared at Tyler for a long moment before he, too, turned his attention back to the road. The girl had known him for barely more than a day, and in that time, he'd killed five people, threatened to kill the boy she treasured, threatened to rape, kill, and rape again her own self, and more ... and yet she was telling him she'd have a child with him? Brett had to wonder if Tyler had some of the same brain freeze affecting Hopper.

As they trudged on, Brett considered the idea of having a child of his own. He'd want a son, of course; someone to grow up strong and skilled in battle; someone who could protect his mother, whoever that was, and -- when he aged -- Brett himself; someone capable of gathering via whatever means necessary the resources the family needed to survive.

Of course, a girl could be handy as well. Men of power and means paid well to gain a good looking, sexy, energetic young thing with whom they could have their way in bed. An uncomfortable chill ran up Brett's back as he thought of some man -- maybe one not unlike either him or the men he killed recently -- pawing all over his own little girl.

He glanced at Tyler again and thought of all the men who'd had her. He'd already had feelings of sympathy for her in this respect, and now he also felt fury for the mean who had treated her like nothing more than a warm, wet hole in which to put their cocks.

Brett didn't respond to Tyler's declaration, instead calling for another break shortly afterward. They were just a hundred yards from another shady overcrop and diverted that direction. Hopper laid down on a blanket and was out almost immediately. They ate and rehydrated and discussed whether to end their day here. Brett inventoried the water supplies, telling them, "If we continue on, we use more water because it will become increasingly hotter. If we remain, we add another day to our trek."

He took a little walk with Helen to scout out the path ahead. There didn't appear to be any better shelter from the sun within view; the landscape after this rocky outcrop was pretty flat as far as the eye could see. It was decided to camp here, set the snares in the hopes of catching more edible critters, and rest.

A few minutes passed before Brett politely gestured Helen to come sit with him; they were somewhat set apart from Tyler and Hopper, who were both on the same blanket in another patch of shade several yards away. He asked, "Who's this Moonlight? Tell me more about her and her men and the strategic situation. You know, you really haven't told me anything about what we are going to face other than they have firearms that are actually loaded.

 

[PennySaver]

Tyler didn't fail to notice Brett's lack of comment about her willingness to have his baby. She also didn't push the subject further. She hadn't said it to him to elicit a response. She'd only wanted him to know of her commitment.

And no, she didn't have a mental illness either. Well, not like Hopper, with his undiagnosed and very much misunderstood autism. Tyler's illness or ailment or personality disorder or whatever one might want to call it was little more than a belief she'd developed that her sole purpose in life was to give men what they wanted. They wanted sex. She provided it upon demand.

Oh, in most cases, she would have preferred not to, of course. Some of the men who'd fucked her had been ... ick! But she'd just closed her eyes and rode it out. The presumed fact that she couldn't get pregnant helped her get through it. She didn't know about sexually transmitted diseases. No one talked about them anymore. Tyler had never heard of them. So, there was that, too.

When Brett sent them into another break, she was more than ready to lay down and nap. She spread a blanket. Hopper was the first to drop onto it. Tyler claimed her own little bit of it and was out in minutes.

Helen, however, was still very much up and at'em. She helped Brett with the inventory of food and water. Then he asked about their destination and the woman at the end of the trek.

"Moonlight's a helluva woman," she told Brett. "Smart, intuitive ... dedicated to her people. And by her people, I mean her little army of soldiers and workers and whores who protect her and keep the shit that she needs to be comfortable rolling in."

Helen took a swig off a bottle of water. She continued, "She's pre-war, you know. What I mean is ... she's in her early fifties, though you wouldn't know it by looking at her. Looks younger. She was educated, pre-war. And after the bombs, she was protected. Government bunker, she told me once."

She sipped again then continued. "I don't know whether to believe that or not. I mean, why isn't she still there? They say there still out there, bunkers under the earth, away from the radiation, stocked with food and water and anti-rad' meds and all. Why come the fuck out here?"

Helen glanced off over her shoulder in the direction they were traveling. "She found this place with fresh water and security and decided to play house. She's got men with guns who guard both her and the place. She's got women who keep the men happy. She'd growing food and raising animals. Children. Lots of children."

Her words faded away as she contemplated Moonlight and her world...

 

[HumanBean]

Helen almost sounded like she admired Moonlight, Brett thought. Hell, by her description, he thought he might, too. She sounded like a successful community leader, particularly for this post-nuclear war era. It drove him to ask, "So ... tell me again: why are you so determined to take this spring from Moonlight? I mean, it almost sounds like a place where you might ... prosper."

Brett might have been way off base, but he was eager to see and hear Helen's response.

 

[PennySaver]

Brett's question surprised Helen. She would never have considered her feelings for Moonlight as admiration. But maybe he was right. Brett thought Moonlight be a perfect leader for this time. If she hadn't hated the woman so much, Helen might have thought the same thing.

His thought that she might prosper in Moonlight's service wasn't that far off either. She confessed, "I did work for Moonlight. And I was prospering, as you call it. But ... there were ... let's call them, problems."

Reaching inside her jacket, Emily withdrew a plastic flask that she hadn't yet revealed to Brett. She opened it, drew a gulp from it, grimaced at its strong flavor and throat burning effect, and offered it to Brett.

"I was one of Moonlight's people for a while," she continued, clarifying, "one of her closest associates." She hesitated. Would Brett know what that meant? Would he speak his thoughts out loud? Either way, she explained, "She and I lived together, worked together ... led together." She took another swig, then pocketed the flask. "But ... Moonlight ... she began to get ... violent. I mean, she'd always had a mean streak. But..."

She went silent and shook her head. After a bit, she continued, "She had control of the only clean water in the region. She knew the value of it. She built a security force. She built a community to keep that force happy and supplied. She couldn't keep the spring without loyal Muscle, after all."

Helen stood, turned away, and contemplated the story she was telling. She looked back to Brett. "She'd always been relatively fair about the cost of the water she was supplying to the community that was building up around her. But then, there was ... well, you could call it a Resistance. Some people thought the price they were paying was too high. They organized. They made up for the cost by insisting on higher prices paid to them for the goods and services they provided Moonlight."

Stressed, Helen pulled out the flask again and gulped. She tossed it to Brett, then sat again. She considered her words. With a solemn tone, she explained, "Moonlight struck back. She ... she tasked her Security Force with ... disciplining the organizers. People got beat ... and ... people got killed. By the time it was over ... by the time the violence had ended ... the killing had ended ... sixteen people were dead. Sixteen!"

Helen stood again and turned away. She was beginning to get emotional. She didn't want Brett seeing her life that. She needed him to think that she was strong and steady. She paced about slowly until she was certain that she wouldn't suddenly break out in tears. She looked back.

"Moonlight took control of everything those people had," she said. "Goods, services ... everything of value. It was all hers now. Anyone who objected got cut off from the water. And you can't live without water. Some people left. Some of those people came back. Ultimately ... well ... everyone fell in line again."

Helen drew a deep breath, released it, and admitted, "I did. I fell back in line. I was one of the people who fought her ... left ... came back ... fell in line. But I couldn't stay there. Not after..."

A tear finally broke free from one of her eyes. She wiped it away quickly and pretended as if it had never formed. She remained quietly for a moment before saying, "Not after she killed my sister." Another pause. "And I'll kill her for that."

Helen looked off into the desert for a long while. She glanced Tyler's way. The girl and the boy laying with her were still very much asleep. She looked back to Brett. She smiled.

"Come with me," Helen said as she unbuckled the wide, leather belt around her waist. She threw it over the cart. The leather jacket came off next, also tossed on the vehicle they'd been pulling through the desert. Underneath it, she wore a tight-fitting, black, semi-sheer, blouse. Large, firm breasts were lifted by an also black, semi-sheer bra. Conspicuously swollen nipples were well displayed, despite the two layers of cloth over them. As she walked toward him, Helen nodded her head toward the landscape just beyond the shade. She told Brett, "I'm going over yonder to have sex. I'm going to have it with you ... or with myself. I'll let you decide."

And with that, she snatched a folded blanket from the end of the cart and walked past Brett toward a cluster of arid-terrain bushes that she hoped would provide a bit of privacy.

 

[HumanBean]

"I did work for Moonlight," Helen confessed. "And I was prospering, as you call it. But ... there were ... let's call them, problems."

She pulled out a small container of alcohol and shared it as she explained her past with the woman who was their mission's target. Some of it didn't surprise Brett; most of it, actually. He wasn't surprised to learn that Helen had had a position of authority either. She carried herself well, like a woman who'd experienced power at some point in her life.

And she showed that power when she began shedding her clothes, heading for a location away from the others, and told Brett, "Come with me. I'm going over yonder to have sex. I'm going to have it with you ... or with myself. I'll let you decide."

Brett was a bit surprised by this. He wasn't, however, unwelcoming of it. He looked to Tyler and Hopper as Helen had, found them seemingly sound asleep ... and stood, turned, and followed the other woman. She ventured out through the arid landscape far enough that Brett was sure they wouldn't be overheard ... unless, of course, Helen turned out to be a screamer.

When he arrived at her destination, he simply stood there in silence, watching. Brett loved the presentation of a woman undressing, and -- after seeing Tyler's bared tits earlier in the evening -- we was eager to see what Helen brought to the show.

 

[PennySaver]

Helen wandered some two hundred feet out from the camp. There wasn't a cliff to provide shade here. There was, however, an ancient tree that, while long dead, was still very much standing. Its thick trunk cast a shadow on the ground just wide enough for Helen's purpose of being here.

She spread the blanket she'd brought with her on a patch that was partially sandy, partially dried out grass. Then, she began shedding her clothes. By the time Brett reached her, Helen was standing before him naked.

She gave him a moment to look upon her profile. Then she turned to face him. She wasn't the skinny, perfect, tight little thing that Tyler was. But she still looked pretty nice for her age and the life she'd led in this post-apocalyptic world. If fashion was still a concern and the proper fitting of clothes still relevant, Helen's measurements would have been something close to 36B-26-36.

She had just the slightest bit of sag in her tits from age. They still garnered appreciative looks from those who viewed them, though. She had a layer of what her father had called winter fat. And yet her hourglass figure was still delicious to most who got the pleasure to see and/or hold it. She considered her ass her best feature. It was pear-shaped and as firm as it ever had been. That was unique for women her age who typically gained much of their new weight back yonder.

"I need you to understand something," Helen told Brett as he neared and ogled her. She was very firm in her words, telling him, "This is about me ... about my needs, not yours."

 

[HumanBean]

Helen was incredible. She wasn't the petite little thing that Tyler was, but that meant nothing to Brett. She was an absolute beauty in her own right: a full bosom, a shapely hourglass figure, and a firm, delicious ass. And above the neck she was just as beautiful.

"I need you to understand something," Helen told him as he neared her. "This is about me ... about my needs, not yours."

He considered her demand, then -- as he began shedding his own clothes -- responded, "As you wish."

Brett dropped his coat, gloves, and forearm sleeves; he pulled his tee shirt up and beyond his head. His torso was as hard as his cock, with well-developed pecs and firm, six-pack abs. His only flaws were not of his doing: bullet holes, knife punctures, slices from various blades, and one significant chemical burn about the size of a hand with its fingers splayed wide. And these were only the ones on Brett's front side above his beltline.

He reached the nearest edge of the blanket, paused to look the shapely blonde up and down, then lowered himself to his knees. He reached out to take Helen's thighs in his gripping fingers and pulled her closer. Without hesitation, he put his face to Helen's crotch to search for and pleasure her clit. This was something he was particularly good at, and he was more than tickled to have the woman to make the demand she had.