Vile Wasteland (A Post Apocalyptic Novel) (12 page)

"Oh fuck yeah," he cursed as she drained the last of his
load away. "Good goddamn job," he swore, licking his lips.

When finally he finished and she swallowed his seed, she was red
faced and gasping for breath. Pushing herself up from the alleyway,
she looked at him with a bit of hardness to her eyes, though it was
tough to see as her forced smile seemed so genuine, "You said
you had good news for me."

Tucking himself back into his pants he nodded to her, "Yeah,
c’mon." He started walking back out of the alleyway,
talking as he was going. "You need to negotiate trade for your
people, right?" He said, sounding like he was finally taking her
situation seriously. Or trying to sound like he was.

"Yea, for food and stuff," she agreed, curious to see if
he knew about the situation in town or if he’d be honest with
her about it. She followed – or rather, was dragged –
along, looking up at him as he spoke.

"Well," he said, giving her a cocky smirk, "just so
happens you sucked the right dick." The man knew no shame and
she tried not to roll her eyes. "I can get you a chance to speak
with the head of the town. The best and maybe only man who might be
able to get you what you need. How’s that for good news?"

"How’d you manage that?" she asked, awe and
scepticism mixing in her voice. She’d left her long hair down
once more, and it flowed behind her as they moved, and she was just
the faintest bit annoyed that he hadn’t noticed her lack of a
jacket.

With a casual shrug of his shoulder he said, "I’m
meetin’ with him to discuss a trade of our guns to his guards.
As you pointed out, the town was raided, and they need more
equipment. Bad. So… I’ll take you along. Introduce you.
And well, the rest is up to you, sugar." He gave her a smarmy
grin, "The man likes pretty women. And you know how to get what
you need."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead staring straight
ahead. She seemed rather deep in thought for the rest of the way, not
talking much, but her pace seemed a bit quickened and more determined
and there was a flush of anger beneath her skin.

This was just what she was afraid of back in the bunker, having
everyone there think she’s nothing more than a slutty hole to
fill. It was the reason she’d held on to her virginity so long
in the first place. Worse than her anger at Jarago, though, was the
shame she felt at the new heat that was growing in her loins at the
thought.

The building they were going to was without a doubt the largest in
the town. One of the new, circular structures that were from the
re-colonization attempts a decade ago, it still looked pristine and
new, unlike the older, refurbished structures about the place. They
had to pass several guards, and Jarago had to explain his purpose and
provide a letter to one woman before they were finally let into a
waiting room.

Leaning over to her in his seat, he said, "Keep quiet until I
introduce you, sugar. I know how to deal with this guy." She
didn’t have much time to respond for the secretary opened the
doors into a large circular office and waited for them to head in.

She was going to tell him not to speak for her and not to say
anything without her go ahead, but in the whirl of doors and people,
she never got a chance. Please don’t be an asshole, she willed
him, staring at his head, Don’t offer me up like I’m some
whore. She knew it was useless, even if she did say it aloud, and the
way her stomach churned was making her regret ever running into him.
She didn’t trust him, not like Grent. Even if he was helping
her.

The room inside made the bunker she grew up in look Spartan by
comparison. It was in many ways similar, but not only was this the
only place in the world above she’d yet seen that looked clean,
it was also opulent. Old world items were assembled and fixed up,
even a few pieces of technology that seemed to work, like a computer.

Though behind the desk was a man–a little shorter than
Jarago–but with milk-chocolaty smooth skin and long, sleek
black hair that was streaked in a few places with white. The man had
to be a good ten years older than Grent at least, though he looked
well, aside from the round, black glasses he wore.

Standing up he gestured them to the seats in front of his desk,
"Come in," he began, his voice having some strange accent
to it she’d never heard. "Take a seat and be comfortable,"
when his dark brown eyes turned to her she could detect something
there in his gaze as he looked over her. "A new assistant?"
he asked.

Jarago butt in immediately, "Yeah, she’s just joined my
team in fact," he said. "Alex, this is–"

And the older man stepped around his desk, dressed in a formal
shirt with tie, vest, black pants and shoes like out of some old
photo. "Dr. Kenir Feysar. A pleasure, madam." He took her
hand without much delay, smoothly kissing the back of it like some
gentleman out of a movie.

Even though mentally she was annoyed, it was nearly impossible to
tell. In fact, she looked practically coquettish as she tilted her
head down and to the side, as if paying respects to someone far
better than her. Her body language changed and became more submissive
and accommodating, and she made even the simple t-shirt and jeans
look amazing with the way she arched her spine to bring out the
curves of her breasts and ass.

If he was going to be an asshole, she was at least going to get
what she wanted on her own terms. She wasn’t going to leave
anything to fate.

The aged doctor, as he called himself, stroked a thumb over her
hand and lingered his dark brown eyes upon her a while before finally
Jarago interrupted, "About the weapons then, chief. We got a
full load, but they’re already promised to the next town we’re
set to visit."

She noticed then a curious thing. The leggy woman who served as
his secretary looked quite similar to him, and was very likely a
relative of his.

"Ah," the doctor said, slipping back and sitting on the
edge of his desk, "now that would be a shame." His eyes
turned back to her though, and the elder man smiled right at her even
as he spoke to Jarago, "I think we can offer a price that will
accommodate for your lost deal and the fallouts from it."

She didn’t remain still, her eyes and face turning and
looking around the room, as if not entirely listening to the boring
talk of business, though she very much was. She gave a smile to the
secretary, then remembered what some of the traders had said about
the town being run by a family. It made sense.

The two men talked over terms and prices a while, and it got
tedious, though one thing she couldn’t ignore was the way the
elder gentleman’s eyes remained on her. Even to the detriment
of his negotiating position.

When finally he shook hands with Jarago with an agreement, the
pale-blonde caravaneer said, "Well, I’ve gotta be headin’
on to see to that then. If you got anythin’ else you need,"
he pointed to Alex, "just let the assistant know, and she’ll
inform me." He smiled and left, the secretary closing the door
behind her and the retreating Jarago.

She hated being left alone, but walked up to his desk rather
brazenly, "Hey, so. I’m not here about guns or whatever,"
she smiled a bit, leaning down and placing her hand on the desk
casually, facing him. "I have a bunker of friends that are
dying, and I need to get them food. Someone stole all my trade goods,
and I’m up shit creek without a paddle. Since you’re the
big shot around here, I hoped you’d have some ideas."

The way she drew her pink lips into her mouth, that angle that let
her hair spill down over her face was all so practiced and controlled
as she tilted it demurely.

The dark elder gentleman listened to her curiously, arching a brow
and shifted his head. With a faint smile he reached over, his hand
coming to her chin as he spoke to her in that curious accent of his,
"Such a big responsibility for so young a woman. You must feel
rather flustered standing in this office, making such an appeal."
The man’s eyes trailed down over her again, and though the
jeans and shirt she wore were not by themselves appealing, the way
her body–and bust in particular–filled them so completely
was quite tempting.

"There aren’t many of us left," she admitted, her
tone softening and losing a bit of that customary slang. She was
testing him out, seeing what he responded to best, but she had a
feeling it didn’t matter. It was going to come down to how much
he wanted her, regardless of the pretty or ugly words that spilled
out of her mouth. "I really need some help."

Kenir’s hands were smooth, not the rough hands of Grent or
even Jarago, it was pleasant in a way. He stroked from her chin
lightly back along her jaw line. Licking his own dark lips he asked,
"These are tough times, madam Alex. It is hard for anyone to get
or give help," shifting towards her he sounded a bit sad about
the situation. "Most people can only look out for oneself these
days. And one's own family."

"Yea, I know," her eyes dipped down. "That’s
what I’m trying to do. They’re all the family I have,
really. I just... I kind of got fucked over by some Viles, so I’m
a bit at a loss with what I can do. Returning empty handed means
they’re dead, though. It’s not an option."

His hand traced back along her cheek to her hair, brushing along
her ear as he felt her blonde locks. "That is a tough
situation," he said in his smooth voice, "after the recent
raid, it is all I can do to look out for this town." With a sad
expression he added, "Which pains me so, as pretty and fair as
you are, Alex, I would love to be able to call you one of my own."
He had such a persuasive manner about him, his voice quite
delectable, no matter what he seemed to be saying.

Even after thinking it over she didn’t get it, and the way
her eyes squinted made that easy to tell, "One of your own?"
She had all but ignored his wandering fingers, letting them caress
her unblemished skin and her soft hair, but as he seemed unable and
unwilling to help her, she took a small step back. Not entirely out
of his reach, there was a bit of distance between them.

"Will you think about it?"

"Well, as I said, my hands are a bit tied..." he
shrugged helplessly. "I can give you two options, darling Alex,"
and he held up two digits demonstrating thus, smiling like a kindly
father at her.

"Well, that’s more options than I had before," she
gave him a disarming look that seemed part teasing, part sultry
before it quickly fell away, as if it had never been there in the
first place. It was just enough time to illicit excitement, then make
him wonder if it was real.

With a soft chuckle he explained, "Just this morning, a few
hours ago, I hired a man to take care of our little supply problem,"
he said. "Hopefully, in time, he will find out what the Viles
did with our precious supplies, and if so," he shrugged, "then
we will be open for business again. You can wait for that, or maybe
go yourself, see if you can find information or something that might
help the cause."

Holding up the second finger, "Two, darling Alex," and
he stood up, standing before her and smiling down dashingly, "this
town needs a strong leadership. My family has done that, but since
the raid, I’m afraid," he sighed, "I no longer have a
woman to give me the children I need to carry on my legacy," and
his smooth, chocolaty hand reached out, brushing against her bare
arm.

She held back her laughter, though it was hard to find a way to
keep the grin from her face. When the first part finally dawned on
her, however – the part where he obviously lost his concubine –
she was stricken by both anger and sorrow; anger at how disposable
she was, and sorrow that she was lost.

She wasn’t a monster, not by a long shot, and each death
rattled through her and quickly her smarmy humour was lost to one of
mourning, "I’m sorry for that, sir," she murmured.
"Still, I’m not... the settle down and raise kids type.
Not now."

With only the briefest moments of grief in honour of the mention
of his fallen concubine, he slid his smooth touch up her arm and
brushed the blonde hair from her neck, "Oh, dear girl," he
began, "you will not have to raise them." He leaned down
towards her face, smiling so handsomely despite his smarm, "Leave
that for others, hm? You would only need concern yourself with the...
more glamorous and pleasing parts," and he slid in nearer to
her.

"From what I can tell, childbirth isn’t exactly a walk
in the park," she looked at him sceptically, as if realizing
just how sexist he was being. She could feel their breath meet
between them, both so close, but she didn’t pull away.

The man's other hand took hers, holding it lightly as he tilted
his head to the side and approached her, looking as if he were going
to kiss her at any moment. "Oh darling, I am a doctor. I have
access to medications. The finest for my family; only the finest. You
would be in bliss, rather than agony, I assure you. And," he
shrugged casually, smiling unevenly, "not only during childbirth
too, if you wish it."

Well, that much was tempting, but she still shook her head. "I
got a family of my own. Didn’t birth them, but they still need
me to take care of them. Especially now. Sorry," she shrugged
her shoulders. "If I find someone as hot as me, though, I’ll
point her your way."

Furrowing his smooth brow he looked disappointed and saddened, "I
think we both know that is not going to happen, darling Alex."
He gave a light smile, "All the same, if you change your mind,
my offer stands." He turned and took a piece of paper from his
desk, jotting a note down then folding it and putting it into an
envelope before handing it to her. "If you change your mind,
just use this to get back in and see me."

With a cheeky grin he leaned in and whispered, "You and I
would make some very pretty children, I think."

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