"Underneath: 2048" (Always open; see introduction)

[Alice2015]

Wes began telling Alice about his friend Shane down in North Platte. She was intrigued with this gentleman, not only because of what he could offer them but in the fact that Wes knew him well and obviously trusted that Shane would fit in Underneath.

But things had been happening fast in the bunker over the past 48 hours, and there was a lot to consider before taking on such a new adventure. They'd found and added to their numbers two new individuals, and not just random people but the lost siblings of two of their own.

They'd been dealing with a failing generator that threatened the habitability of Underneath, and although Alice had full faith in Riley's capabilities, she didn't have the same faith in the 25 year old infrastructure. There had been serious talk of having to go out into the world and find a replacement power generator, but do get it into the bunker meant major metal work on the top hatch adjacent to the false door, an access that for a quarter of a century had been buried under six feet of dirt and Nebraska sod.

Added to that the fact that much of the food they'd brought with them in February was now gone and the Horticulture center wasn't at full production level yet. Alice and Peter had discussed sending scavenging and/or trading parties to the communities surround Howard Lender's vast and empty plain. But there were significant risks in that.

"We'll talk more about this soon," Alice told Wes as she stood and extended her hand, an obvious sign that their meeting was over. "I want you to speak with Peter, he's Chief of Security as you probably already know, and with Riley, who keeps this place running, oh and your sister and Mimi, the other teacher, who I heard you met."

Alice had heard about Wes's introduction to and conversation with Mimi the night before, just after Mimi's mouth had been responsible for yet another amazing orgasm sweeping through Alice's body. Mimi, who was 100% lesbian had made a teasing inquiry into whether her bisexual lover had found Wes as attractive as many of the bunker's females had. Alice had, but as she had still be recovering from the climax that had ripped through her, she only told the woman who was half her own age, "You are my only interest, my love."

Alice continued her conversation with Wes, "Between those four people, you should be able to come up with what ever you need to begin your mural. We have a selection of paints and chemicals to make more, I think, though we're anything but Sherman Williams."

They finished their conversation, shared their goodbyes, and Wes headed out. Alice did, in fact, check the man out as he withdrew from her office. He had a nice back end that was for certain, and Alice couldn't help but smile at the thought of sinking her teeth into it while her hand was wrapped around him, stroking him hard and fast to orgasm.

But no, she had Mimi. And when she had the need for the feel of a cock deep inside her, Bryan came to her rescue, in spite of his long term and very loving relationship with Cookie. No, the last thing Alice needed right now was to begin something new with a guy that most of the single women in Underneath were already fantasizing about.

 

[Wyld52771]

As Wes left Alice's office, he headed back down to Men's Berthing, heading to his bunk. He could see why Alice was in charge of this place. She had a no-nonsense, take charge attitude, and a commanding yet confident presence about her. She reminded Wes of his old Fire Chief back at the Fire Station.

He had alot to think about...planning and preparation to do for this excursion. Who should come along? What would they need to bring with? Mode of transportation?

He knew they would have to have a vehicle of some kind...they wouldn't be able to lug around coolers full of water and fish for the hundred mile round trip. A truck would work best, with as many coolers as possible. They'd need fishing gear to catch the fish. He knew how to fish, but would need others who had experience as well. They would also need people who knew how to use weaponry, in case they got in trouble. Wes had some practice with using firearms, but he was by no means
an expert shot.

He figured he would need a few days to sort this trip out, and in the meantime, he would need to find the people Alice had mentioned, that he hadn't yet met...Peter and Riley.

 

[Alice2015]

Willa McCann's History

(OOC: This post moves the main thread ahead one more day.)

Willa McCann (image, profile)


12 August 2048:

At the base of the ladder leading to Topside, Willa stopped the children and their escorts to don their PPE. Although the three adults weren't regularly required to suit up when they were up in the world, they did so to set an example for the children. The children themselves no longer questioned why they had to do this. Alice had made it clear to them the first time any of them went up that if they wanted to see the world beyond the bunker, this was the price.

The children, ages 5 to 9, donned their full body coverings, rubber boots, masks, and astronaut helmets, which were actually just homemade head protection made from plastic ribbing and transparent film, intended to give the little ones more range of movement of their heads while protecting them at the same time.

"Every one ready?" Willa asked. "Check your buddy."

The 3 children took turns inspecting the PPE of the other children, a lesson Willa had been teaching them. Then the escorts double checked the children, just to be sure. She said, "Okay, lets go."

They ascended the latter: escort, child, escort, child, escort, child, and Willa.
Topside, which was the official name of the concrete structure itself, was crowded today. The Watch had been increased by two to four, because of the presence of the children and the need to keep them safe.

But a fifth person was also there, and Willa smiled at his presence, which had been unexpected. She crossed to grasp her brother's hands in her own, saying with joy, "I didn't know you were coming up here, Wes."

They chatted for a moment before she told him she had to get back to the children. She set about getting to where they needed to be, which considering their ages -- 5, 7, 9 -- was about as easy as herding cats. Once they were each sitting atop a stool near one of the many peeking holes that looked out from Topside onto the Nebraska plateau, she reminded them of what they were here to do.

"My brother, Wes, as you all know," she began, suggesting to them, "Every one say hello, Wes."

"Hello, Wes!" they all called out, followed by a couple of the Watches sing-songing and chuckling, "Hello-o-o, Wes."

Willa ignored the guys, continuing in that tone teachers and parents used with young children, "Wes is going to help you paint the classroom, beginning this after noon after nap, and he's going to help you to paint it to look like what you are seeing through the hole in the wall in front of you."

The kids all three simultaneously leaned a bit more forward to peek out the roughly one foot square holes that at this moment were uncovered but typically had a door swung shut to camouflage them. Willa continued, "But Wes has a problem. Do you know what that problem is, children?"

Again simultaneously, all three called out, "No-o-o!"

Willa smiled wide as she glanced to her brother. "Well, Wes is kind of a silly goose, and he has forgotten what the world out there beyond your hole looks like."

The three giggled or made teasing comments about the silly goose. Willa giggled, too, then gave instructions. "I want you each to color what you see out there beyond your hole in the wall."

She gestured to the escorts, two of whom were parents while the third was simply a volunteer. The adults gave the child in their care a clip board with a sheet of paper on it, then brought to the child's attention the half dozen or so drawing tools at their disposal, which were homemade crayons that Riley had made with a mold and some melted materials she'd somehow scrounged up from within Underneath.

Willa began explaining how to look for interesting things, from plants to clouds to birds; she spoke about noticing the colors and then comparing them to the available crayons; she told them to use their imagination, which included using a different color tool if they wanted or drawing an object to look maybe not as it really is but as you would like to see it.

Soon enough, the three had crayon to paper and were creating their version of what they saw out before them. Willa moved from child to child, looking over their shoulders but never offering direction or, worse, correction. She knew from her own life experiences that the age of the single digits was where children began losing their imagination. This was the time when they stopped drawing purple elephants or horses with wings or cats with three heads. Willa didn't want that for these three. She wanted their minds to be open and free.

She went to Wes and slipped a PPE wrapped hand into his crooked elbow. "You're doing a very good thing for these kids, brother."

Willa blew him a kiss through the transparent head shield that the children had weeks earlier drawn all over with their water paints. Willa could have washed the images off, but why? She could still see out. It wasn't causing any problems.

 

[Wyld52771]

Wes smiled at Willa, amazed at how good she was with the children. For someone who never took any teaching courses, she was a natural. He thought to himself, "Willa's gonna be one hell of an awesome mom someday." The thought made him grin, because he'd then of course, be an uncle. Uncle Wes.

He looked around at the kids, smiling at their artwork, as well as how children viewed the world. "If only us adults could see the world like kids do...full of optimism and hope for the future," he thought, "It's really too bad we lose that innocence and sense of wonder in every day life as we get older."

He would be recreating the children's artwork on the walls of the classroom, just how they imagined and drew it, while the children would temporarily be using another room for class. Once completed and fully dry, they would bring the children back to the class room and surprise them with their own vision of the world.

As an added bonus, he had already drawn pictures of the children themselves, and would be painting each of them as well, within their own world, doing things they loved or wished they could try...playing catch, flying a kite, picking wildflowers...to make them feel as if they were a part of it.

He was also going to surprise Willa by painting her and the other teacher, Mimi, in the mural with the kids. It would be fun to see everyone's reaction when it was done...Wes was looking forward to it.

"Great work, kids, he exclaimed enthusiastically, "I think we have a bunch of artists in the making here, Sis!" He smiled widely at Willa and she returned it. This was going to be a fun day...

 

[Alice2015]

26 June 2048 -- 2 a.m.:

The woman slowed the overheating, chattering car atop a small rise just east of her destination. She got out to take a look. She'd seen pictures of the city that once sported a population of 30,000. Today, it looked nothing like it had before the Collapse, with upwards of half of the structures burned down or scavenged for their wood, metal, and other resources that for the most part were no longer being manufactured.

Suddenly, the car kicked, then again, then belched a cloud of black smoke, and died. The automotive mayhem caused the boy laying in the back seat to wake and rise. He asked with a sleepy voice, "Are we there yet, momma?"

"Almost, honey, but," she began. When he asked but what, she eyed the multitude of lit indicators on the car's electronic console and told her son, "But I think we're walking the rest of the way."

They donned backpacks and extended the wheels of their rolling suitcases and began walking. They didn't hurry. The temperature was near 100 and there was no cooling wind at all. They stopped twice in shade they found along the road.

A mile and a half or more short of town, she heard the roar of motorcycles coming from the same direction she'd come from. She moved her son off the pavement and beyond the dry draining ditch as four big Harleys with rough looking, leather wearing men approached at as unhurried a speed as she had been. They slowed and came to a stop before her.

"You know how to use that little lady?" the nearest man asked, seeing the semi-automatic pistol dangling by her side in a tightly clenching hand. When she didn't respond, he said, "If you go into town alone, just you and the boy, you'll be dead or flat on your back in a whore house by dark."

He gave her a moment to consider his claim, then asked, "You have someone waiting for you? Someone you know in town?"

She hesitated before nodding her head.

"Climb aboard," he told her, peeking over his shoulder to indicate the jump seat behind him. He glanced to the Harley behind him that had a small trailer behind it partially filled with what-not. "Put your things in there, and the boy can ride with Carl there."

Another biker scooted back a bit on his bike and patted the seat before him. When she didn't move, the leader shrugged, kicked his ride back into gear, and said, "Suit yourself."

"Wait!" she said quickly. After yet another moment of hesitance, she took the steps the man had listed, telling her boy, "It'll be alright, honey."

The Harleys roared away, and a couple of minutes later they were passing through a road block guarded by heavily armed men who wore some of the same symbolism as the men on the bikes. As they continued into town, men and women obviously connected to the bike operators took notice of her and her child.

Much of the town they were passing through had been razed by years of mayhem, while other parts of it seemed to have faired well. She couldn't help but notice that each of the still operating businesses or still standing and occupied homes and hotels had armed men and women out before them.

They came to a stop in front of the destination she'd given to the men, a small hole in the wall bar stuck between two businesses that looked as though they'd been gutted and abandoned near two decades earlier. It, too, appeared to still be in proper working order. Dismounting, she thanked the man with whom she'd ridden before moving to collect her son.

"I'll be wanting payment for services rendered at some point," the man told her. When she looked back to him with a look of horror, he was eying her shapely body in its old but tight fitting tee shirt and jeans. He looked up to her face and said, "I'm busy now, but, I'll catch up with you later."

She didn't respond, other than to show the man an expression of dread. He and his cohort sped off down the street leaving her standing there with her boy and their bags. She flinched at the sound of movement behind her and spun to find a ruggedly handsome man stepping out of the establishment's front door.

"You look like you could use some cold water and some shade," he said in a kind tone with a smile. He stepped over to assist with the bags, and when she indicated that that was fine, he picked one up and looked to the boy. "And I've got some home brewed root beer for you if you'd like it. You ever had root beer?"

The boy looked to his mother for guidance first, and when she nodded that it was okay to respond, he shook his head and said, "Grampa let me taste his beer. I didn't like it."

The man laughed. "Not the same thing. You'll like mine better. Come inside."

The pair followed him into the bar, which was otherwise empty save for a man passed out on a cot along one wall. The man said, "Don't mind him. I let him stay here in exchange for cleaning up in the morning."

"It's noon," she pointed out.

The man laughed again, clarifying, "Well, we don't all set our watched the same these days, do we?"

He set the bags down at the end of the bar and circled around it to fetch a glass of ice water and a unlabeled bottle of what he told the boy was boy's beer. He looked the woman over while she wasn't looking at him, then diverted his eyes when she looked back.

"I don't have any way to pay you," she said. She's waited until they got their cold liquids before she pointed it out obviously. Recalling what the biker had said about payment for services, she quickly said with a firm tone, "And I don't part my thighs or lips in turn."

The man behind the bar smiled, then laughed. "Well, then we're gonna get along well because I don't part mine either. Not for water and root beer anyway."

He laughed again, and it seemed to relax her a bit. He told her, "I lost my kitchen girl a couple of days ago. Interested? Cleaning, cooking, run some errands."

"In return for...?" she asked.

"Room and board," he told her. "There's an apartment upstairs, cross the hall from my own. Three meals a day, course, you have to cook it your self. Separate bed in the corner for the boy if you want one. What's your name, son?"

"Henry," the 5 year old said between sips at the bottle.

"This is my business, and I run it how I like it," the man said. He nodded toward the windows, beyond which a pair of armed bikers were chatting on the sidewalk. "I'm protected well because I, um, well, let's just say I provide the militia with some of their hardware needs. "You come to work for me and you don't have to worry about the Rollers. Holy Rollers they call themselves. They may look mean, but they're actually pretty good guys, for the most part."

He was being generous, of course. The Holy Rollers MC ruled the area with a tight and sometimes brutal grip. But if you were under their umbrella of protection and paid for that protection, you could go to bed at night or walk down the street at any hour without fear of being robbed, raped, or killed, and not necessarily in that order.

"I'm Shane," he said, extending his hand over the bar. When she took it, he told her, "Shane Flanagan."

"Yes, I know," Vanessa said, her lips spreading in a friendly smile. She took his hand, squeezing it softly as she responded with expectation, "I'm Vanessa. Vanessa Blackblood."

She waited for him to show a familiarity with her name, but all the man did was say, "It's nice to meet you, Vanessa. Blackblood? Native American, obviously. Are your people from one of the Nebraska tribes."

He was off to a cooler, putting together a couple of plates of food after Henry had whispered that he was hungry. Behind Shane, Vanessa's face filled with an expression of disappointment.

Shane had never heard her name before, which was in great contrast to Vanessa's familiarity with him. The bar owner's name had been mentioned so many times back on the farm in Iowa when her then-lover, Weston McMann, spoke fondly of one day getting back to his home town of North Platte, Nebraska.

Vanessa came quickly to an obvious thought incorrect conclusion: Wes hadn't made it home, either not yet or not at all. It had been almost 6 months since he'd left the family farm outside Fort Dodge, eager to get home to his parents and his little sister, Willa, who by now had reached her 21st birthday, if Vanessa recalled correctly.

She found herself having to divert her face when her eyes welled up with tears. Wes was dead. There was no other conclusion to be had. He wouldn't have left Vanessa, with whom he'd been building a life and been regularly and consistently enjoying the most incredible sex of his life to come home to his family, and then not make a bee line directly for North Platte.

Shane inquired about the job offer again, and Vanessa accepted the job whole heartedly. He showed them to the room and told her she could toss out anything she didn't want to make herself and her boy more comfortable. He told her of half a dozen businesses at which he maintained credit lines, adding, "If you need anything, clothes, bedding, hygiene products, girly stuff. I'll put together a list downstairs. Come get it, and we'll figure out a way for you to work it off. Not undressed, of course."

He laughed at his reassurance that he wasn't going to make Vanessa pay off any potential debts by wetting his cock with one of her holes. Once he was gone, Vanessa put Henry in the tub for a badly needed bath, then moved back out into the bedroom.

She broke down in tearful sobs.

<<<<< +++ >>>>>​

(OOC: This post establishes two characters who, obviously, are not in Underneath. Their story up to the point where they connect with Wes (and others) at some point in the near future will be told at this link.)

 

[Wyld52771]

26 June 2048

After Shane got Vanessa and Henry settled, he went back down to the barroom. Going behind the bar, he poured a shot of Jameson, and then a glass of ice water.

He then walked over to the cot, and kicked it. "Finn...get your lazy arse up."

Finn moaned, and rolled over. Shane kicked the cot a second time, and said more loudly, "Finn...get up! Stop fucking around."

Finn let out a deep snore, and with a shrug and a grin, Share followed the same routine he'd had for the past three days...dumping the glass of ice cold water over Finn's head.

Finn sat up so fast he nearly fell out of his cot, sputtering and exclaiming loudly, "Bloody Hell!"

Shane laughed, and said, "I told you to lay off the booze last night, my friend," and handed the shot of Jameson to Finn. "Hair of the dog. Drink up."

Finn downed the shot in a quick swallow, and then shook the water out of his hair and wiped his wet face with his hand, and standing up unsteadily.

"It's the end of the world, you arsehole!" Finn replied, irritably, his Irish brogue very noticable in his indignation, "There's no better time at all to be shite-faced!"

Shane laughed again. Finn Lafferty was one of Shane's distant cousins, and really the only family Shane had left, since the pandemic had taken the rest of them. There was no notable family resemblance between the two of them.

The two Irishmen were practically polar opposites. While Shane was average height, trim and athletic, Finn topped out at a hulking six-foot-five, and had a huge beer gut. Shane was ruggedly handsome, with a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee, while Finn had a huge, unruly beard which covered a face only a mother could love.

Still, aside from Wes, Finn was the best friend he'd ever had...they'd grown up together back in Belfast. Finn had lived in Boston before things went bad, but when Shane's Grandfather Angus died, Finn came out to North Platte without delay to pay his respects, and had then decided to stay.

Shane had put him to work as a bouncer...Finn was insanely strong, and one of the best hand-to-hand fighters that Shane knew...and also had Finn keep the place clean, in return for as much drink as Finn could want and a roof over his head.

Finn had an inkling of what the family business had been, but Shane purposefully kept him in the dark as much as possible. When Finn was in his cups, he had a loose lip.

"We have company upstairs," Shane informed Finn, "a lass named Vanessa. She's gonna be our new kitchen girl. She'll do the cooking, and help ya out keeping the place tidy. Yer to be keepin yer hands off her. I won't have another girl running off because of you."

Finn laughed, and said, "Don't worry, cousin...I'll treat her as if she were my own sister."

Shane shook his head, "No...you'll be treating her like the Holy Virgin Mary...you forget, that I know ya fucked your sister, ya damn fool."

Finn snorted in amusement, "Aye...well, that was not my fault...she's the one who started suckin me off when I was sleepin."

Shane shook his head in amusement, and continued, "She's got a wee one with her...little lad named Henry. You may want to be keeping the swearing and such to a minimum when he's around."

Finn grinned and said, "No teaching the lad to speak like we did when we were young...noted."

"I'll be going downstairs for awhile to get some bookkeeping and other chores done. Try not to disturb me unless it's an emergency."

Finn saluted,and then walked behind the bar, pouring himself another shot.

"And try not to drink up all my damn profits!" Shane called out over his shoulder, as head headed downstairs.

 

[Alice2015]

OOC: The interaction between Shane and Vanessa moves to the 1x1, "Flanagan's Pub". We are doing this because this part of the story is 2 months behind the time line of this thread.

Please subscribe and follow along if you are reading out story.

If you are a reader (not a writer), I would like to know if you are enjoying our story. PLEASE PM me, don't post a reply here, as this obviously is the IC thread for the story. I will share your PMs with my writing partners.

 

[Alice2015]

OOC: Announcing the beginning of a 1x1 thread:

Some of our readers may have already read "Date Night", and if you have you can ignore this post.

But if you haven't, you will want to click the link above and read. The thread follows the sexual adventures of Wes McCann and Kimmie Simms, as well as Haley James who plays a seriously erotic part in the end.

When you finish reading that thread, a link at the end will bring you right back to this very post, so that you don't lose your place.

Enjoy

(P.S. "Date Night" begins on 12 August 2048 and ends 12 days later. I point this out because there will soon be some adventures in this thread that involve Wes, Kimmie, and/or Haley that can only take place after 24 August 2048, so keep that in mind.)