Vile Wasteland (A Post Apocalyptic Novel) (15 page)

It was an apology and devotion all in one, and her tongue caressed
him affectionately. She pleaded for his full forgiveness, to get past
her lie, even if she didn’t need to. Even if he didn’t
understand.

The stoic man cracked eventually with soft little groans, barely
loud enough for her to hear as she supped at his loins so closely.
With his cock so stone hard and molten hot, she knew it was on the
edge. She could pull his release from him at any moment if she chose
to, but she’d been teasing him along endlessly instead.

When finally she felt he’d reached the point that was
enough, she finally allowed him that sweet, denied release into her
warm mouth. Pressing her lips down in her set speed, she could feel
the full cock strike against the back of her throat, her mouth held
open so wide as she accommodated him.

It wasn’t something she often did, taking a man all the way
at the very end, but he was special. For her, this time was
important.

As big and powerful as he was, he kept nearly completely still,
though she was too much for him to be perfect. His hips twitched,
that gargantuan cock of his spasmed, and a flood of creamy cum poured
into her throat in long, seemingly endless streams. His voice broke
the silence of the night with a quiet ‘ah’ sound, the
pleasure too intense for him to deny any vocalization at all as she
drained his loins.

When at last she was done, he shifted and pulled her back to his
side, pressing her into his chest in a warm embrace.

She was all too eager to be next to him once more, and as she
swallowed and rubbed her throat, her arm went around him. "You
can sleep first," she murmured, "Probably best you’re
awake at dawn anyways."

Tucking his girth back into his pants he kissed her lips and held
her so close. "Not enough of us for real shifts," he
explained, "you get your sleep, then leave the rest to me."
Rubbing those two massive hands over her form he kissed her again,
the large man so obviously smitten with her. "I won't let a
thing happen to you, believe me."

"Y’sure you’d be okay without sleep?" She
realized it was silly to argue with him, but still. She was a woman
who wanted her sleep - and lots of it - and had trouble fathoming
someone willingly going without.

With a broad smile he rested her head against his chest, "Just
go to sleep already," his voice was weary and joking but
resolute. Maybe it was the fact he was twice the age of most of the
men she’d been with, but he always sounded a little more
fatigued than most after they had sex.

"Fine, fine," she sighed, crawling into the sleeping
bag. "Fuck you’re bossy," she teased, but almost
immediately sleep grasped her and he could hear her breath become
deep and regular.

When she awoke at dawn, Grent was looking alert. However it was
that he managed to make it through the night, he’d done it and
come out looking better for it.

Pouring some water into a bowl of dehydrated cereal bits he handed
it to her with a smile. "Morning love. Hope you’re ready
for a long trek. We go the rest of the way today."

"Always ready to go the rest of the way with you," she
said, though the sweetness of the words were tempered by how grumpy
and tired she sounded as she moved to his side, "So you kill a
fuck ton of them while I was sleeping?"

Kissing her forehead as she began to eat he looked out over the
valley below. Lit up by the rising sun, the mix of green, blue and
old world ruins in grey was a sight to behold. "Oh yeah,"
he responded, "all of ‘em. So it’ll be clear sailing
from here on out."

"Awesome," she nodded, eating her food quickly, "Thanks
for that. Saved us a lot of trouble," she joked back, though her
tone was dead serious. She seemed so tired, but as the sun began to
wash over her, it perked up her skin and eyes.

"You know, we’re probably goin’ to see something
pretty fucked up, aren’t we?"

Shaking his head he said, "No." Then looking back to her
he added, "No probably about it. If we make it there, it’ll
be fucked up. I can guarantee it." He gave her a half-hearted,
uneven smile. "But don’t you worry about that. Eat up, and
we’ll head out."

Dutifully he began to roll up the sleeping bag, stowing away the
few things they had out. "The important thing to remember is:
they’re not people anymore. Haven’t been for a long
time."

"No problem, boss," she said, her tone turning a bit
stony and hard as she finished her food, clearing everything away
quickly and helping him pack, "They took my stuff. They’re
as good as nothin’ to me. They sentenced my friends to death."

They began early even after a late night, but they saw no sign of
the Viles nor anyone else for that matter. When they stopped for
lunch Grent took out his binoculars and scoped out the valley below.
"C’mere," he ushered her over.

Her pulse quickened as she stepped over to him, seeming more
cautious and alert almost as soon as he’d said the syllable.

"What’s up?" she asked, her tone tense.

Putting the binoculars to her eyes he showed her what lay ahead.
In stark contrast to the old ruins of cement and steel that was a
pre-apocalyptic human city at the heart of the valley, their
destination ahead was white, smooth and rounded. Low round circular
buildings and high, ovular towers of unbroken white were what
remained of the colony she knew for but a few years as a girl.

From a distance they appeared purely white, but through the
binoculars she could see they were marked, painted, with red. Great,
freakish depictions of crazed faces or demons, they were terrifying
and the colour spoke of blood.

"Notice anything?" he asked her, hands on her shoulders.

"Fuck, makes the decorating at the bunker look good,"
she said, continuing to stare through the lens, trying to get a
decent grasp of good places to hide and retreat, then looking for
where they might need to go.

It was just past midday by this point, the morning behind them,
and Grent shook his head, "No. Not that. Do you see any
movement?"

She didn’t. The area seemed still, no signs of anyone or
anything moving but the flap of torn fabric here and there.

"Some hell," she said before she moved back, staring at
him, "So wait... where the fuck are they?"

Taking the binoculars back from her, the tall ruddy-blonde man
peered through again at the destination. Taking his time before
answering her he scanned more of the valley below, though it was so
large the search seemed fruitless, "I don’t know," he
said simply. "Out on another raid?" He postulated.

"All of ‘em? I mean... that seems pretty fucking
organized to me. Man... this creeps me out, not knowing where they
are. I feel like they could be right on top of us and we won’t
even know. At least when we knew where they were - or thought we did
- we might only be worried about a scattered couple fallin’
upon us..." she stared at him with worry plain on her features.

Looking to her with his serious, unreadable expression he shook
his head. "You’re worrying for nothing," he stated
and tucked his binoculars away, beginning to get ready to head back
out. "Like I told you before, there is no reason for anyone to
come this way, least of all the Viles. If they are out on a raid,
they wouldn’t have come this way. Besides," he said, "for
our mission, right now at this moment, them being gone is a good
thing."

"Just creeps me out," she shivered, looking up at him.
"Are we goin’ to raid them if they’re still gone?"

Pulling his pack back up over him he gave her a curious look,
"We’re goin’ to go in and scout them out, same as
before. We’ll see the situation once we get there." He
clasped his equipment back in place and hefted his large automatic
rifle, "Even if they’re gone the most the two of us could
do is nip a few things."

"Yea. Like my backpack," she said, hope edging out her
fear. Everything about her posture changed in a moment, "Even if
they are changed, most of what I had was tech. They’d have to
have changed a lot to use that, yea?"

Furrowing his brow he looked to her, "You were carrying old
world tech?" he asked. This was obviously new information to
him, the two having not discussed it before. He went quiet as he
forged their path ahead, his pace having picked up yet again from the
morning.

"Well... yea. Figured it’d be the best thing to trade
for food out here. Why?" she fell in step behind him, struggling
a bit to keep up.

Shaking his head he said, "Just doesn’t make any sense.
They smash that stuff more likely than they’d give it a second
look." He fell into an uneasy quiet, his mind obviously whirling
with possibilities as they continued on.

She let the silence drag on, her own mind trying to work through
the intrigue and coming up short. Still, she couldn’t keep her
thoughts silent, reeling with the idea that them having her tech
could become very troublesome.

"You said they didn’t use guns a lot, yea?"

"Right," he said, his gaze focussed ahead not letting
the questions disturb his focus. "They know how to use them,
though they aren’t patient enough to make great shots. However,
they stink at taking care of weapons, so they tend to break on them
fast. Hence, you don’t find many toting guns."

She frowned, her eyes moving over the landscape, looking for any
sign of motion. Despite his assurances, she remained cautious of
their current surroundings.

So they couldn’t be using her stuff to make weapons. Then
what? Certainly not trading. She shook her head, "Doesn’t
make sense," she agreed.

Lost in his own thoughts Grent had no more to add. The pair
continued on, and though he stopped routinely to scope out ahead,
they continued to see no signs of the Viles before them. They made
excellent progress because of it, so they arrived near the edges of
the old colony before sunset.

Stopping beside a series of rocky outcroppings he began to remove
his backpack. "We’ll strip down to the bare essentials
from here," then looking to her an expression of concern crossed
his face. "Actually, might be best if you wait here, watch the
stuff while I go on ahead and check out the site." The older
man’s gravelly voice was rich with concern for her, she could
tell.

She stared at him. Despite the reason for his protest, she could
see the wisdom in it. She’d just slow him down and distract
him, and he was far more skilled than she. Still, she knew she was
far from useless, and her posture straightened, "You check it
out, but give me something less nerve wracking than sitting here
hoping you’re back soon."

The older man paused, obviously nothing coming to him. The notion
of her staying behind and watching their things had just been an
excuse, he didn’t have more. Though after a moment he pulled
the binoculars from his pack and offered them to her, "Keep an
eye on me and the colony. If you see something I need to be wary of,
give a high pitched whistle like a bird call. Can you do that?"
he asked.

"Yea, ‘course," she nodded, giving him a smile.
"Fuck, you know I’d come with if I didn’t figure
you’d get yourself killed over me, right? If you find my bag, I
might just love you too," she teased his emotions, though there
was sincerity under the surface.

With an uneven smile that was at once wry and warm he gave her the
binoculars and leaned in, kissing her lips. "Remember, bird
whistle. Don’t go shooting off any guns. Even if trouble breaks
out," he warned. "A gun will bring every Vile for miles
running after us. They are a last ditch thing we turn to only after
we’re fucked," he cautioned her as he stood and got ready
to go.

She chased after his lips for a second, then nodded, "Yea,
alright. I’ll see you soon," she tipped the binoculars
impishly. "Undressing you mentally. Thinkin’ of what I’ll
do to you once we get back to safety."

The large mercenary couldn’t help but grin toothily at her.
Shouldering his rifle he took out his long military grade knife and
headed out. For a man of such a size and age, it was amazing to see
him move so quick and at such a rate while bent low for cover. It was
obvious his long life of rigorous hard work in the field had resulted
in making him a pinnacle of fitness and ability.

She saw him close the final distance and make his way cautiously
around the edge of one of the broken walls that ringed the old
colony.

Her pulse was quick, but she pushed that fear aside, instead
becoming hard. Taking a final scan around with her naked eyes, she
quickly lifted the binoculars, beginning the slow, careful scan.

The whole process took some time, as despite his speed and ability
Grent was cautious. He was careful to stay within her field of view,
only slipping behind things for brief flickers of time as he passed
from one area to another.

Surprisingly quiet, the lair of the Viles proved empty from what
they’d seen. Grent gave a wait sign to her, then disappeared
out of her view, going inside one of the circular buildings. Time
passed. Seconds. Then a minute. When he returned he gave her a thumbs
up, and she could see a smile on his face. Her heart skipped a beat;
perhaps the news was good!

Still, she remained obedient, giving him a thumbs up in return,
even knowing he probably couldn’t see it. The moment between
them was short, and it caused her to nearly miss the sight occurring
behind Grent.

A red flap lifted and from out of it one of the freakishly painted
and rage-laced Viles stepped. Almost as soon as he was out though,
her lover spun about. He must have heard the thing before it saw him,
for the seasoned hunter leapt and was upon him. It all happened so
fast, she could barely make it out. The flash of Grent’s
strawberry-blonde ponytail in the air, the crash of his body into the
Viles', then the two of them tumbling into the building he just came
out of.