ronjeremypony

[ronjeremypony]

Cat-Z Birthday

(This is a nice little birthday present to my wife.  Love you sweetheart, and thanks for putting up with me.)

Cat-Z Birthday

Moving in Darkness wasn’t the best choice out in the wilds, but there was times it was the only choice.  Kristoph minded his steps, ensuring that the barely audible sound of his boots on the hardened snow was the only sound that could be heard, and even that stretched out for just a few feet.  He stopped and looked at the store before him.  In truth he was one of the few that still had memories of before the end, before Z-Day, and certainly before the end of all that was.  He remembered little stores like this were called Mom and Pop stores.  

Stepping inside he could smell the old musty smell of a building that had been mostly closed since the early days.  Of course stores like this wasn’t exactly considered essential supplies.  No, that went to places like Wal-Mart, old Grocery stores, Targets, Walgreens, Target, local pharmacies, and the like.  Anyplace where antibiotics, food, clothing, and other little things needed for everyday life could be secured.  Little places like this weren’t essential, and so getting something from them was often expensive.  

And that made him smile at the prospect that he found a place that was practically untouched.  Rows and rows of books sat on shelves, entire collections from some of the best authors from before Z-Day lay in wait, and he moved silently toward them.  Normally his trip would be about filling several boxes with dozens of books, taking them back, and selling them for rent, food, and anything else he needed, but today was different.  Stopping he dug into his frayed pocket, pulled out an old battered ducttape billfold, and looked at the picture of the love of his life.  Like himself Trina loved the little escapes that helped relieve the pressures of living in a place where the dead walked the earth.  He introduced her to reading, and from that she developed a healthy appetite for literature.  

He walked toward the young adults section, and he spotted something he knew she’d love.  There was the entire collection of Harry Potter.  Every single book was waiting.  There was a few of them, back in the free zone, but most of the people that had them were those that lived there the longest, or were heads of the militia that helped to go out and get supplies.  He slipped off his book bag, an old brown leather camping thing from some company called Ozark Trails.  He carried it since it handled most of his gear, but today he packed light just for this reason.  

Still, there was little doubt in his mind that he was just barely going to fit the collection into the bag as it was.  It would make sneaking back into the freezone a little harder, but it was worth it.  He grabbed the first two books, put them into the bottom of the bag, being as quiet as possible, and continued to do so until he had the last book in his hands.  Looking at the bag he realized that it was likely it wasn’t going to fit without taking everything out, and trying to resituate the books back inside.  

The phrase, tetritising it in, came to his mind.  It had been something that his dad had said fairly often, although to be honest he wasn’t sure what the term meant.  Still, he pulled the books back out, quietly placing them back into the bag, or did until he heard the door scrape against threshold.  He held his breath and listened.  The shuffling sound echoed through the room.  He quickly placed the other books into the bag, and looked at a huge book next to him.  He lifted it, feeling the heavy weight.  He wanted his spiker, the small club with several nails driven through it, but he’d left it out of the bag.  

He hadn’t known how much he’d find when he left the freezone, but he had planned on finding her some new literature to read.  Something she hadn’t had the chance to read before, and this had been perfect.  Now, now he wished that he’d brought the spiker anyway.  Instead he lifted the large book, which was easily about a foot and a half thick by almost two foot high, and carefully moved toward the sound of shuffling.  He neared it and he saw the movement.  

The Z was an older one.  Its skin had mummified over the years of exposure to the elements, its eyes were practically non existent, and what tattered and ruined clothes it wore couldn’t even be identified.  He watched as it moved, its mouth chewing on some invisible bit of something as it shuffled and stumbled through the store.  He watched as it moved toward the counter, its skeletal hands reaching out and touching the dust covered wood and formica finish.  Slowly, he moved toward it, raising the book up, and then when it turned he brought the book down hard, caving its skull in.

The Z dropped, and he let out a sigh.  His light, an old lantern, was sitting back over near where he had been.  He walked over, grabbing his old billfold before the lantern, and then stood.  He dug into his other pocket, finding a small book of matches, and lit one.  It flickered to life, a life which was sacrificed to give the lantern life once more.  With the warm glow of the kerosene lantern once again glowing around him he moved.  He stopped, and walked back toward the now still Z.  He looked at the large book and his smile widened.  

Monsters, and how to defeat them,

It would be hard, exceptionally so, to sneak the books he already had gotten and this large book back into the freezone, but he could think of no better way to top off the present.  He lifted the large book up, and held it as best he could as he began the long trip back toward the freezone.  There was every chance in the world that he could sneak back into the zone, and get back home, just in time for Trina to wake up.  All in all, he considered this to be a successful birthday shopping trip.

[ronjeremypony]

Softly into the Night (Commissioned Sherlock Story)

Softly into the Night

A Sherlock Holmes Story

The sooty smell of London was long gone.  The comforting rodes, common criminals, and of course the less common ones left behind.  This merry chase had led far out into the country.  To the average eye it was nothing special.  A farmhouse, barn, a field of crops, and a few scattered trucks and harvester machines.  None of it was right of course.  The harvester itself was designed for wheat or corn.  Common for central states in the United States, not so common for a small farm in a rural English community.

The trucks were all light duty, none of them designed to carry more than half a ton, and finally there was the crops themselves.  The community itself grew tobacco.  Yet, this farm was growing what appeared to be potatoes.  Thus further proving the harvester out of place.  All of this was simple window dressing, and he knew the party behind it.  The house would be the place most would check first, but a worn trail from the road pointed to the barn itself.  If he was to guess the house had perhaps been used half a dozen times.  

He moved toward the barn, part of him more distracted than he would prefer to be.  Mostly because he knew that John was in the hospital.  A victim of an assassination attempt, but not one meant for John.  No, he knew it had been meant for him.  The bomb was clever.  A lunchbox, some marbles from a corner shop, and a small amount of plastic explosives.  The trigger was a simple motion sensor taken from a toy and repurposed.  For being something mostly made from bits of scraps it proved to be a well thought out device.  

Had John not dove behind a desk, had he been a fraction of a second too late, things would have turned out far differently.  Instead, John was stable, but certainly crippled.  He opened the large door and took in the sight of the barn.  There was bales of hay, no live stock.  Stalls, but nothing in them.  Hay was spread around in a pattern that one might think would fit a farm, and from its looks mostly drawn on from examples seen on film.

He noticed a slight bulge ahead of him, and he didn’t dare step on it.  There was another three, and then there was the chair.  It sat in the middle of the floor, out of place, and disturbingly clean.  He touched it, feeling the resistance from his lean, and he wiggled it slightly.  The slight way it moved not forward and back, but rather in an almost circular motion made him realize what it was.  He took a seat, feeling it sink down and heard a slight click.  Slowly he rotated for a brief moment and the clicking seemed to echo in the barn until the chair stopped.  He heard a faint hiss and a door popped up.  

Walking toward it he looked at the trapped door, now unlocked, and he opened it to reveal a staircase that most certainly didn’t belong.  He moved down it, keeping his wits about him, looking at the signs that his prey had been here.  And then he saw the sign that he was still here.   The door was barely open.  He stepped forward and heard the squeak of a chair as it turned.  In it was a young woman.  

Her soft red hair was truly beautiful, her lips plump, her skin fair, and her build was that of a woman that cared for herself.  A year ago he found her organization, and he began to follow their pattern.  Dozens of conspiracy theorists had been correct in the idea that there was a secret organization that helped shape the world.  Of course it went under thousands of names, and there before him was one of the highest ranking members.  

“Mr. Holmes, I must admit that you are impressive for someone to yet live a single lifetime.”

He studied her, “I will accept your compliment, but of course you do realize why I’ve come?”

She sighed and stood, “My offer stands Sherlock.  We need not be enemies.  You could stand at my side.  We could shape Brittain, the world, in an image that would rival anything that has ever existed,” she stepped forward, the shadow living her form, and he saw what he already knew.

Her nude form was breathtaking.  Her gracefulness was well beyond what any mortal woman could ever hope to have.  And she touched his slightly singed trenchcoat.

“Join with me.  Become my second in command, my lover, my companion, and I shall give you more power than you’ve ever believed possible.”

He side stepped her, slowly moving toward the wall.  She stayed near him, focusing on him, on his face, not paying attention to his actions.  After all, he had never been here before.  

“It is tempting.”

She touched him, her body pressed against his, and her lips found his neck.  He felt the soft graze of her teeth, “Say yes, please.”

The door behind her slammed shut, an alarm sounding through the complex, and her eyes widened.  She looked at him, surprise filled her immortal eyes.

“Tempting, but then I know that something as ancient as you tends to get tired of your toys.  Besides, I do owe you for destroying my flat.”

She screamed in fury as the sound of an explosion began to rip from below them.  The room around them grew bright, and then there was nothing.  Over the weeks the news spread about the rural bombing.  John Watson of course knew part of what had happened.  He knew what Sherlock had discovered, the secret organization, and of course of the attempt on Sherlock’s life.  The bombing at that rural farm seemed to fit. Although John didn’t believe that Sherlock was dead.  A bomb that size would of course have destroyed any evidence.  But it didn’t matter.  John felt that Holmes was alive, somewhere, and that this convenient death gave him the perfect cover to find the true head of this serpent.  

[ronjeremypony]

Begin Again/Gensis

Begin Again/Genesis

The Honeymoon of Taylor & Regina

Most of the records about before Category Z have been scattered to the winds, but the few known facts remain.  One of those is the most likely cause of the virus that single handedly changed the world into what it is now.  It’s believed that it started out as an experimental vaccine for the flu. Said vaccine, Nu-Omega-Chi 88313, was the latest medical breakthrough in fighting influenza. The government had assured the public that the vaccine was perfectly safe; clinical trials performed by the Food and Drug Administration proved the vaccine performed flawlessly in the lab. To test it out publicly, the small Appalachian town of Wind Gap, Pennsylvania was chosen for public trial testing. At first, everything went well. Those vaccinated came out the other end of the influenza season season untouched by the illness; the residents of Wind gap showed no signs of side effects or allergy. All had gone according to plan and the F.D.A. declared the trial a complete success.

It wasn’t until the summer that things started to go wrong in Wind Gap. Residents young and old would drop dead at the slightest thing; physicians for the FDA and the CDC were at loss as to why these perfectly healthy people just up and died. Soon, there was a log jam of corpses piling up at the city and county morgues all around. The coroners could turn up no reason for why all these people just croaked. The CDC investigated further. They found that those the had recently died had been part of the FDA trial of N.O.X. 88313. Before further investigation could be mounted, the first of the deceased victims rose out of his morgue slab, the former Al Jacobs, and proceeded to take a chunk out of a CDC lab tech. After that, the infection began…

The Federal Government had did it’s best to minimize the threat. Conservatives in Congress declared that the so-called “zombie virus” didn’t really exist. The F.D.A. downplayed the whole thing, saying that the vaccine was still safe and highly effective. It wasn’t until the virus struck at Washington, D.C., that lawmakers took notice and tried to something about the outbreak. By then, though, it was already too late; the infection was spreading rapidly and there was little shelter to keep the uninfected. That was fifteen years ago…

In the interim, safe zones or havens were established at various cities. Major population centers like New York, Los Angeles, Seattle, and Atlanta were lost at once when the outbreak hit it’s stride. Smaller cities, like Denver, Chicago, Dallas, Tulsa, and Fargo, were able to erect makeshift barricades to keep out the reanimated dead. Mayors in those cities then began to implement martial law; many civil liberties were suspended in lieu of the crisis. New laws were enacted to keep the remaining populace safe, though a few pieces of legislation were throwbacks to a darker, less civilized age.

Such was the case of Darren Rutherford, mayor-cum-Governor of the city-state of Denver, now renamed Freemount. While his citizens were in the grip of panic, he laid down laws the solidified his position of power, formally organized the city police into his own private militia, and instituted mandatory rationing of food, water, and fuel. He, of course, was getting the lion’s share of these precious resources, but you wouldn’t know by how gaunt he always appeared… Although he enacted many dreadful and Draconian laws, his piece-d-resistance was the new Prima Nocta law: any couple marrying within the city of Denver was now subject to The Governor’s Blessing. What that meant was that a newly married had to submit to the will of the Governor’s Agents and “allow” the bride to spend the night in the Governor’s, or his appointed agent’s, bed for the first night of their marriage.  He would call it Blessing the union.  From there the word Blessing became foul.  There was nothing holy about the word, nothing stretching to a forgiving or loving God.  No, the word had become the worst vulgar term anyone could ever use.  And the Blessings were connected with the fact that it was well known that Rutherford’s obsession with history and his own paranoid nature saw the law acting as two fold.  To him it would allow weakness to be bred out of Freemount, and it would also test the loyalty of those close to him.  Those who failed the test would be cleansed from Freemount.

It was this very law that Taylor dreaded. Growing up in the city-state, he heard a number of his relatives and friends speak about Prima Nocta, about the Blessings, with disdain. He had seen the women who spent a night in the Governor’s mansion; they had a drawn out look, like their very souls had been hollowed out of them. Most everybody knew what happened to them. They were raped, often repeatedly by Governor Rutherford or his Sheriff, Jim Benson. It was this law, and none other, that made Taylor longed for a life outside of the Freemount haven site.

The chiefest reason for this desire was in the person of his oldest childhood friend and the love of his life, Regina. Growing up, they had become very close. Their families has lived in the same neighborhood, since the Category Z cropped up, in the same houses. As they became teenagers, they fought the mutual attraction they felt for each other, but for Taylor is was awfully hard. Regina was a classic beauty, with porcelain skin, wide hips, a pert bosom, and the lithe body of a dancer. Her strawberry blonde hair was always tied back into a long, tight braid; left straight, her hair fell past her elbows but just above her knees. Her emerald eyes were set in perfectly almond shaped eyes framed by high cheek bones.

She turned heads wherever she walked. Girls wanted to be her, boys wanted to bed her. In the last year, she and Taylor had been falling deeper and deeper in love. They knew that under Governor Rutherford, they would never have a perfect wedding night. Regina would be ravaged by either Rutherford or Sheriff Benson and that thought alone sent his blood boiling. So, to avoid that unfortunate event, he and Regina had saved their vouchers. It took a long nine months to properly save up for it all, but it was worth it to escape the enclave. Being that hard currency was almost unknown in sections of Freemount like Little Russia it was hard to come by.  Those that had it didn’t like to use it or show it off.  Most simply accepted the digital vouchers that was sent down into their tracker chips in their hands.  Still, getting the vouchers proved to be possible.  It meant doing jobs that both of them knew their parents would’ve have balked at.  Still they ended up with enough food, electricity, and medical vouchers they could trade for what they needed.

First was a pair of nano disruptors; they would disrupt the Radio Frequency Identification signal the nano-chips emitted, making Taylor and Regina virtually invisible. The next step was to pay a surgeon to remove the chips. Where they were going, they didn’t need them. The last step was to find a cleric willing to perform a perfectly illegal elopement ceremony. That had proven the easiest task, really, as most of the clergy in town despised the Blessings.  Father Seth, the Priest over the only orphanage in Freemount, had not only agreed to marry them, but also said that he did so because what they wanted was pure in the eyes of God.

Nine months, three days and fifteen hours of preparation later, the newlywed couple had gotten out of Denver through a crack in the retaining wall. A scout report pilfered by Taylor from a guard tower showed that Category Z activity was nil around the enclave; they could theoretically walk in any direction away from the city-state and be free of reanimated dead. It had taken days of slogging through The Wild, urban areas reclaimed by nature that turned once paved roads into weed-choked paths, but it was worth the effort and strain.  The house they found seemed mostly together.  They had shied away from something inside of what had to have been an old town, and instead found refuge in what appeared to be an old farmhouse a couple of miles outside of it.

The sounds of the world outside of the dirty glass filled the room. The wind whistling through the streets, the cold draft coming down through the ancient fireplace filled the room with a sort of energy that can only be found in winter. The clank and thud of the old oak tree’s limbs striking the side of the house when the wind blew, and finally the unnerving quiet of everything else.

“This is nice.”

Taylor looked at the girl with him. Like himself, her face was dirty, her long hair had since been braided and locked down with a scrunchie; her clothes were covered with the same kind of grime that his was covered with and were showing signs of serious wear. Six days of looking for a place to hold up had taken its toll. He breathed out, leaned against the old faded wallpaper and slid down to the floor. Exhaustion washed over him, as what little strength he had remaining drained from his body.

“Tired already?”

“It’s been a helluva a couple of days,” Taylor breathed, “Ah jest wanna close mah eyes fer a bit.”

“Taylor, don’t go to sleep yet, please,” Regina pleaded.

Taylor sighed, “Regina, Ah’m tired. Ah feel like mah pa dun had me doin’ the job of ten men. Lemme git a little sleep.”

She walked toward him, finding a place beside him, her hand finding his own. He felt her move slightly. It was a movement he’d felt and seen her do before. It was a gesture from their childhood, a slight movement Regina employed when she was in the mood to be serious. The scrunchie was coming off, and the simple braid was coming out.  The times she had done this was always followed by wanting everything to be serious, or at least taken seriously.

Regina breathed, “It’s our wedding night, Taylor, or at least we can finally have a wedding night.”

He laughed at that. Six days ago they had been back in the haven. Six days ago they had been talking with Seth the Preacher, and six days ago they had gotten married. The City-State’s government didn���t know, there wasn’t any papers on it, and there never would be. He’d be damned before he let a sheriff’s deputy, or the sheriff himself, bless their union. He felt her head rest on his shoulder. Her strawberry blond hair threatening to devour his view.

“Taylor, we’re safe, at least as safe as we can be. I want my wedding night.”

He looked toward her. Her face was set in a way that meant business. They had known each other since they were children, brought up together, and became closer each year that passed. He learned to read her, and she learned to see the signs he had. She’d win this argument. She’d win because he wouldn’t have the heart to win. He did have a weapon in his arsenal that might delay the inevitable…

“I’m getting hungry, Reggie,” Taylor began, “how ‘bout some vittles before we get down to business, as it were.”

Regina looked sternly at her husband, her motherly smile creased into a thin line of of mock anger.

“Always with your stomach, Tay-tay,” she quipped, “You’re lucky that your teeth are intact or else you’d have jaw your food, or I’d have to chew it for you.”

“Like I’d let ya,” Taylor retorted, “we got enny of the peach cobbler left over?”

“I think so,” Regina replied, “lemme check my pack.”

Taylor would never admit it, but he was no cook. The tin’s and cans of food they brought with them was the only food they had. During their trek, they had not run afoul of Category Z, but they also hadn’t seen hide nor hair of wildlife. Taylor could probably take down a deer or two with the ancient Mauser rifle he plundered from the Sheriff’s armory but there were few chances to use it on the trail. He also limited ammunition for the weapon. He would need to scrounge for some whenever an opportunity to present itself.

“You’re in luck, Tay-Tay,” Regina said, breaking the momentary silence, “we got two cans left o’ peach cobbler. And, I managed to find some old M.R.E.s at the bottom. Thank you, Sheriff Benson!”

Regina passed out the food, fished out the can opener she lifted from the neighborhood market, and opened both Taylor’s and her own can of cobbler. They ate, sharing a mildly pleasant if nervous conversation. The words were punctuated by the sounds of forks and spoons hitting tin or plastic. Soon, they ate their fill; Taylor’s stomach was pleasantly full of food. That need was fulfilled, but as he watched Regina pack up their trash and rummage in the pack she carried, he felt a new need rise up in him. That desire was strong within him, for he was young and at the prime of his life. If only he could shake his anxiousness; he never been with a girl before, in the biblical sense. He was sure Regina was the same way, but he did not want to make any assumptions. “To assume make’s an ass outta you and me,” his father once told him.

“Where?” Taylor asked.

“Where what?” Regina teased, her eyes screwed up in a playful squint.

“We-well,” Taylor stammered, “where-where do ya wanna- consummate our marriage?”

“Ah,” Regina beamed, “How about over there? Right there in front of the fireplace. We can build a fire, get comfortable, maybe find something to lay on.”

Nodding, he got up and followed her. Her threadbare jeans moved, worked, and framed the very thing she wanted to give him. A quick look around showed a lack of much firewood. The tinder was barren, likely emptied long ago by the previous tenants. There was a coffee table, which soon found itself in pieces, and a couple of old wooden chairs, but there wasn’t enough to have a fire burning for long. Still, he set on to getting the fire started. He felt in his pockets and found the aging Zippo lighter he had won in a hand of poker a few years before.

Like most things from the time before the Category Z emerged, the Zippo was valuable in its own right. A bit of fluid, some pieces of flint, and you had a portable way of starting a fire. He searched around and found a dusty yellow book. Tearing pages from it he crumpled them up, lit them on fire, and let them warm the flue. He began to burn a few more pages with some of the wood, and slowly the weathered old pieces of the coffee table began to catch. A gentle warmth flooded through the room, and he felt Regina’s hands on his shoulders. She leaned against him, letting her breasts rest on his back.

“That feels heavenly,” Regina sighed.

Taylor agreed,“It is purty nice.”

“Taylor, I love you.”

“Ah love ya too. Ah do.”

“I know,” Regina breathed, as she shifted astride of Taylor’s lap, straddling him with her heavenly thighs, “and I want this. I keep telling myself that I want this. I want to be your wife, I want to have your children, and I want… It’s stupid. There’s so much to be afraid of, and I’m scared of what we’re getting ready to do.”

“Ah’m scared, too,” Taylor whispered.

She looked at him. A look of disbelief covered her face. The man she loved, this hulking man, was admitting that there was something that frightened him. She placed a hand on his cheek with the most tender touch she could offer.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” she proffered, “If we’re both scared then maybe we’ll try to not make it hurt.”

Taylor had heard stories from some of the boys. Stories about how the girls would cry out when the were taken by the officials. The blessings had left a mark on their girls. He could see their eyes looking deader and more empty than anything outside of the Havens. That’s why the Zone’s government couldn’t ever know. He wouldn’t let that happen to Regina. While he never think to claim Regina as a piece of property, it had always been his mind that she belonged to him, so her innocence was his take and none other. He felt it went roughly the same way for her, that his innocence was hers to take and hers alone.

He felt her move, her legs still straddling him, her face so close to his own that he could see into her eyes, and what he saw made him realize he made the right choice. There was a look of determination, of love, and of need. He leaned forward and kissed her. It started like the play kisses, but it changed. It became deeper, warmer, and the warmth threatened to overpower the fire’s warmth.

For moments they simply held each other, content with the kiss, content with how they were, but soon there was a need. He felt it growing. A feeling in the pit of his stomach, moving out, stiffening in his crotch, filling him with a primal desire he had no idea of how to explain. Instead, he listened to the instinct that had awoken, stifled the inkling of doubt that surfaced briefly, and he moved.

The next few moments were a blur of activity. It was awkward, unorganized, messy, and yet it was perfect, beautiful, and pure. Regina found herself facing the fire, her body now relieved of her clothes; she was impaled on Taylor’s rod, her last piece of her childhood dissolved. She didn’t really feel any different, there was no instant declaration of womanhood pushed onto her, and she didn’t feel suddenly gifted with all of the maternal knowledge of the ages.

What she did feel was closer. She felt closer to Taylor. She felt more a part of him than she had before. His arms flexed slightly, pulling her closer, letting her share in his and the fire’s warmth. She looked up at the fire, now dying, and felt peaceful. There was no moans here, no warbling howls, or crying in the night. There was just the sounds of the night, the quiet, and now the sounds of their hearts beating.

It didn’t last long, their first bout of lovemaking. Taylor was as pure as Regina when ti came to sex. Still, she could feel it when his staff pushed into her, taunting her senses with an orgasm. She felt it building, burning brightly like a lamp. Her legs acted of their own accord, wrapping around her lover’s waist, trapping him to her body, forcing him to penetrate deeper. Then she felt Taylor stiffen in her grasp. His staff, already swollen stiff, enlarged itself within her depths and then began to twitch. She could feel his seed spilling into her, splashing along the walls of her canal and coating her interior with his love. She felt some of it seep out as he continued to thrust. When at last, his hardened pole stopped spewing seed and went lax, Taylor slipped out her. His worn body and mind sought comfort in his lover’s form, wrapping her luscious and glowing body tightly in his arms. The last vestiges of consciousness were leaving him.

“Night, Reggie. Love ya.”

His voice sounded so tired and yet so happy.

“Goodnight, Taylor,” Regina replied, “Ah love ya, too.”

Maybe she could talk him into staying here a while. There were no Category Z around, not like there had been outside of the safe zone. Maybe this was the place they could rest. Maybe this would be home. That would be a worry for another day…

[ronjeremypony]

Cat-Z Going to Market

Going to Market

 The crackling fire sent shadows dancing around those of us gathered.  Our merry troop, well at least semi well trained troop, had the honor of going for supplies.  Near by I saw a couple, somehow managing to get on the same supply run, and I could see them holding each other.

They were silent, they were barely moving, and without any doubt they were being as intimate as they could be without anyone noticing.  I leaned against the tire of the semi hauling the trailer I had rode in on.

The cool wind indicated that we were going to be in for a hell of a cold winter.  It wasn't bad, not really, most of us had wood heat, and with the hydroelectric dam we had power, most of the time.

Hearing the chorus of the night I thought about the next day.  What was the next day going to bring?

"Remember, this is a supply run.  We're here to get food, medicine, and clothing if we're able.  Everything else can wait.  If we have time, then go get some beer, if not, then tough."

Hearing the Sergeant didn't make things easier.  Sure, I was part of the militia, and sure he was a full blown Sergeant from the National Guard, but the truth was I wasn't sure there was a government left anymore.  Hell, there hadn’t been a broadcast on the television, radio, or anything on the internet for quite some time.  The fact that Harold, our main technician, had been a supervisor at the hydroelectric dam was the main reason we had power.  

 I groaned as I stretched.  Like everyone else my back was tired my feet were sore, and I knew that in a precious little time we’d be heading toward our destination.  The idea had come from both Max Brook’s Zombie Survival guide, and one of George Romero’s old movies.  We tended to hit small towns, hopefully with no one living in them, and we cleared out the stores for what they had.  

 Last time we walked away with more Spam and Ramen Noodles than most college students had seen in a lifetime.  It was food, and it helped, but there was more than a few folks upset that we couldn’t find more.  So, the decision made was that we’d still hit the stores, but then we’d move on to the houses.  See if they had food stocked, if it was good, and take what we could of it.

 It felt a little weird to break into someone’s home and know that more than likely they were already dead.  The area we were heading to was one that about a three hour drive, normal traffic, which meant about a two and half day drive with us having to stop and push cars, trucks, and everything else out of the way.  I’d joked, so often, about how bad Oklahoma roads were, but they weren’t nearly as bad before like they were now.  Without any kind of road crew the potholes had gotten bigger, the shoulders had started crumbling, and I know there was a few bridges that ended up being permanently out.

 “Jamerson, ya asleep?”

 I looked at my left and saw Mac.  Like most of the other folks I didn’t know Mac’s real name.  I knew that he came from somewhere in Eastern Oklahoma, but other than that I didn’t know much about him.  It didn’t stop him from becoming one of my best friends though.  He sat there, a pile of muscles most likely built from tons of work on a farm, or at least that’s what I imagined.

 “Naw, I’m still awake, what are you doing up Mac?”

 He looked around for a moment, and then pulled out a Granny Smith Apple.  He broke it into two halves.  I felt him push one of the halves into my hand.  Right after he did he went to eating his own.  I wasn’t about to argue over getting a gift of an apple.  I quickly devoured it, not wanting anyone to swipe it, and leaned back as the last bit of taste lingered in my mouth.

 “Jamerson, are ya worried ‘bout the supply run?”

 I could see the worry on his face.  He was a good fella, but he didn’t belong out here.  Mac needed to be on a farm, tending to his crops, listening to the crickets, and doing everything he could to make sure that he had enough for his family, and for the community.  That was the kind of stress I was sure he could handle.  But I couldn’t just say it to him either.  I didn’t want to be the reason why someone didn’t make it home.

 “Naw, I’m not worried.  Look, it’s no different than any of the other times and besides, we’ve got each other to watch our backs.”

 He nodded, leaned back, and pointed toward another girl in our group.  She was wearing impossibly large sunglasses, large oval things that hid her eyes, and on her ears were a pair of skullcandy headphones.  I could tell that whatever she was listening to it was making her happy.  The way her head bobbed, her blue dyed hair swaying with every beat she could hear.  She seemed oblivious, and I cursed myself for not grabbing my android cell phone.  Sure, no service, but I could still use the music player, maybe even play some Pac-Man.

 I saw Mac reaching into his pocket, feeling around in there, and a moment later he pulled out a small package.  I recognized it from when we’d did a supply run near an Atwood's.  It was some of their peanut brittle, the stuff that normally everyone would pass up because it wasn’t in the colorful packages like most candy was.  From what I could see Mac had painstakingly made that package last for over three months.

 “Ah think Ah want ta go talk ta her.”

 I didn’t see any harm in it.  Hell, as far as I knew she wasn’t attached to anyone, and the same could be said about Mac.  Then again Mac could have been Omisexual and I’d never know it.  He got up, headed over, and I watched as he touched her shoulder.  Her shades came down for a moment, and I cursed that the shadow and the light of the fire didn’t let me see her eyes.  Still, I watched Mac as he pulled out what had to be a farmer’s charm, and broke off a piece of his brittle for the girl.  He took a seat near her, and the two of them began to talk.

 Being on the other side of the fire I couldn’t hear their conversation, but it didn’t stop me from trying to fill in what I figured was going on.

 “So, Ah saw ya sitting over here all ‘lone, and Ah figured ya could use some company, want a little brittle?” I filled in for Mac.

 “Sure, thanks for coming over.  It’s been lonely, and to be honest I haven’t had candy in forever, so…  you’re not expecting anything for this right?” I filled in with an almost southern bellish sounding voice.

 “Nope, Ah ain’t one ta do that.  Ah’d just be glad with talkin’ with ya…” I filled in until I saw her kissing him.

 “Way to go Mac,” I whispered.  

 I looked at what I had with me, and slowly, I considered the fact that if there was candy where we were going, I was going to grab some.  Sure, food and supplies for everyone, but there couldn’t be any harm in grabbing some candy.  Not if it ended up with like it did for Mac.

 “Thirty minutes, and then everyone down here is going to switch with guards on the top of the trailers.  We’ll give them two hours, and then roll out.”

 The Sergeant’s voice cut through the crackle of the fire, the whispers of those around me, the soft snores of those actually sleeping, and the distant moans of the infected.  I was wishing that I had chose tails instead of heads earlier.  If I had then I’d be getting ready to come down, and maybe grab an hour of sleep, but then again, even that was doubtful.  

 I leaned back, contemplating on the apple I had eaten, my forgotten android phone, and on what waited for me when I got back to our little safe zone.  I had a few consoles, more than a few dozen games, some movies, and a house that I shared with a couple that didn’t see the sense of having a militia.  Oh, they were fine about eating the food we brought back, using the medical supplies, and of course wearing the clothes, but having a militia was frightening for them.

 Most of the time they stayed out of the small apartment I lived in, which had been a room for rent before everything went to Hell in a handbasket, but there was times that they’d come into the apartment, determined to explain how it should only be the National Guardsmen that went out, and that the gun I used for protection, to get our supplies with, and ensured the safety of everyone inside of our safe zone with, well it should be locked away in an armory so that civilian hands never touch it.

 Most of the time I let them drone on, canceling out what they were saying, and did a trick my Public Speaking professor had taught me.  I imagined them naked.  It didn’t do much for him, but her, well, under the normal black frock she wore I’d imagine black laced lined panties, a similar bra, and sometimes a ball gag.  I’d spoken to the placement division, but they informed me it was either live in the house with those two assholes or live in a tent on the church’s courtyard.

 With the way the two carried on there was times that a tent sounded good, but until we were able to find some mobile homes that were moveable I doubted that the tent would be as warm or comfortable.  So in the end it left me with the decision of staying where I was.  I slowly started to get up, knowing that the thirty minutes was up, knowing that all kinds of fun waited for me when I got to the top of the trailer.

 I climbed up and I saw Lyra.  Lyra was one of those kinds of girls you wished you would have gotten to know in high school.  She was curvy, in a good way, and her attitude was usually fairly optimistic.  The first time I talked to her we began comparing notes on who was the bigger geek.  I played every geek card I had.  Firefly, Star Wars, Star Trek, Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, both of which I stated the book forms were infinite times better than the movies, Dr. Who, even Marvel and DC.  Lyra won.  She was into all of those fandoms and at least three more, but what ended up sealing the deal was little green and white unicorn she carried with her.

 It was a kid’s toy, but it was expertly crafted.  This wasn’t just something you would have went to a Wal-Mart or somewhere to buy.  It was a special ordered miniature stuffed plushie.  She held it, smiling at it, and asked if I knew what it was.  I knew of the fandom, and honestly, I had wondered if there was any members of it left in this world.  

 “A My Little Pony toy?”

 She nodded, “This is Lyra Heartstrings.  She was my favorite back when the show was on.  Mom named me after her favorite musical instrument she played when she was in the OKC Philharmonic Orchestra,” she gently put the small unicorn back into a pocket on her jacket, “I like to tell other folks that are into the show that Mom was a forward thinker and named me something that she figured one of the characters would have been named.  So, I’m guessing that I won?”

 I smiled at the memory, hugged Lyra, and felt her hug me back.  Her light blonde hair almost looked mint green from the glow of the back of the spot lights aimed out at the road.

 “Get any rest?”

 I shook my head.  There wasn’t any sense of lying to her, “Naw, but I think that Mac made a new friend.”

 She nodded, looked over the side with me and saw the group that had began to show up.  They wouldn’t be getting much rest either.  We were going to start taking shots, and I knew from experience that nothing ruined a nap like hearing gun fire.

 “Try to get some sleep.”

 She nodded, climbed down from where I had come, and I looked back over at the infected.  There was now at least thirty of them.  If we started opening fire it would certainly draw more, but then again when those things got to screeching and carrying on it would do the same.

 I heard something thud, and I looked to see the wooden lid that was connected to the tops of the tractors and the trailers pop open on the tractor that was connected to this trailer.  Henry, a former long haul truck driver, and pizza fiend, looked toward me.  His eyes were tired, his red beard was mixed with gray and white hairs, and it looked like if anyone could have used a few hours of sleep it would have been him.

 “Sergeant Davis said if we see anymore show up to start thinning them out.  If not, then don’t worry about it.”  

 I nodded, determined to at least just watch the group.  Twenty minutes passed, and no one saw anymore, and then a small group walked toward us.  They weren’t fresh.  I could tell that.  The infected most of us normally saw was the fresh ones.  The ones that still looked human.  Most folks didn’t know that as time wore on huge sores would pop up on them, and they’d scratch those sores until they bled.

 Something in the virus that infected them made those open wounds harden into a material that a striking weapon wouldn’t hurt.  The longer they were out here, the thicker that material got.  It almost always looked the same, dark red, almost black, hardened to where it looked like a piece of turtle shell, and if the infected was old enough, some green mold might start growing on parts of them.  

 They’d get so bad that none of them could see anymore.  The plates would cover-up their eyes, their foreheads, and instead you were stuck seeing this weird near helmet that protected from about mid crown downward to the mouth.  Normally it covered their bodies, and I was lucky that I’d never actually had to deal with one.  That changed, and now my screecher cherry was about to popped.

 They neared us, and I knew they couldn’t smell us, but they screeched, lightly, trying to get a sense of where they were, what was going on, and if there was something to eat around them.  I heard the first shot, and looked over to one of the other trailers.  It was the girl from earlier that had been getting intimate with her girlfriend.  She took another shot, and another, and I could see the fresher infected falling left and right.  I took a shot at a screecher, hitting it right above the plating on its head, and causing it to stagger, fall, and shuffle off into whatever waited those damned things when they died.

 The moment the firing started the Screechers began screeching in earnest.  Their ear piercing song being more than enough to indicate where they were, and where we were.  Our shots continued, lowering the numbers, causing them to dwindle, and the sixty that had been there was now nothing more than piles of corpses.

 I knew we couldn’t relax.  The sound of the gunfire, and the screechers was more than enough to catch the attention of more infected, or of bandits.  I almost wished that I hadn’t been right, that it wouldn’t have been enough to cause us to move, but I also knew that Sergeant Davis would rather us be careful than get into a needless confrontation.  Within minutes everyone was inside of the trailers, with the exception of two folks per trailer riding on top.  I stayed on top, not wanting to crawl down into the darkness just yet, and to my surprise Lyra joined me.  

 Our job was simple.  Ensure that any threats were taken care of, and alert the others if needed.  Over the next day and a half I’d managed to get a little sleep, not do some sleeping with Lyra, and ride as guard on the top of the trailer.  We finally made it to the town we were heading to.  Pryor wasn’t the biggest town, nor was it the smallest.  Most of us knew when the shit hit the fan the doomsday preppers in the area had put off saying their collective ‘I told you so’ to everyone else and had instead bugged into their homes.  

 That was well over a year ago, going on two years now.  I wasn’t sure, but I had a feeling that any of them were still alive, they were dangerously low on supplies, and most likely had taken to breaking into their former neighbors’ homes in order to get basic supplies.  It wouldn’t be stealing since for all they knew their neighbors were dead, or were far enough away they wouldn’t likely ever step foot in their own homes again.

 It was a fact that we were counting on as well.  The first stop of course would be the local box stores.  Our group rolled up in front of the Wal-Mart, and on command we shot out the glass doors.  The next thing that happened was a collection of screechers running out to us.  We put them down, after using twice the ammo we would have used on the fresher infected, and climbed down.  

 “I want everyone to enter the store in groups of two.  There may still be more inside, watch out, and don’t get trapped.”

 I nodded, the Sergeant didn’t need to tell me twice, and with everyone else we moved up to the store.  Swallowing my nervousness I stepped in, looked around, and moved in straight line toward the back.  Move in, head back, put down hostiles, and report the all clear.  That’s all I had to do.

 “I will make it back, I will make it back, I will make it back.”

 My little good luck montra had been with me from my days of playing video games.  I thanked God in heaven that we didn’t have  a Leeroy Jenkins with us.  That was the last thing I needed.  I moved quietly, hearing just the movement of my partner, knowing that with each turn, each step, we were getting closer, and closer to the end of the store.  I breathed out a sigh when we reached the dairy section.

 “Grocery, section one, all clear.”

 I heard a faint bit of static for a moment.  A second later I heard the other team over the Walkie Talkie we had to carry, “Grocery, sections two and three are clear.”

 Slowly, everyone sounded off, and Sergeant Davis called us back.

 “Okay, go in teams of four, get groceries, medicine - especially antibiotics, and clothes first.  Don’t be picky, and let’s get to it,” he touched his walkie talkie and looked around, “Unit B, how’s the real estate?”

 “Lots of it at closeout prices, but from the looks of it most of these folks left before folks started looting each other for food.  Just missing electronics and the such.”

 I saw him close his eyes and smile, “Good, get as much canned food as you can, check dates, if it’s more than eight months out of date leave it, if not bring it back, and if it’s Mac and Cheese forget the date that stuff lasts longer than MREs.”

 I nodded to Lyra, Mac, and his new found friend.  Together we began moving through the store, heading down the canned isle, and finding enough to fill a cart.  Of course there was a chance there could be more in the back, but the last time we had someone go check out the back they came back infected.  It was better to stick out in the store, where there was at least room to move.  

 We continued to gather groceries until we heard a scream, gun fire, and everyone fell in the direction.  When we got there it was too late.  The body had looked dead, it had been a screecher, but it looked like it had died sometime ago.  One of the girls that had been intimate with her girlfriend, Jenny I think her name was, had gotten to close, bumped it, and it sprang to life.  She was on the floor, a jacket covering her, her girlfriend, Tish I believe, had killed the screecher.  

 She stood there, shaking, her cart full of clothes they’d found, and then she fell to her knees.  I watched as Sergeant Davis had two of the girls from a different group go over and help Tish out, then he asked for volunteers to help carry out our now fallen comrade.  I started to put my hand up, but Henry and Frank both beat me to it.  The rest of us finished gathering up supplies, and I couldn’t help but notice the more somber note of it all.  It had to be, after all someone had died, but what was normally a fairly routine, yet exciting, job had turned into darker.

 There’d be a celebration when we got back, someone was going to get beer, wine, and whiskey if this Wal-Mart had it, and there would be some hard drinking.  I didn’t begrudge anyone of wanting to do that.  Steam needed to be let off, things needed to happen.  It was just the way it was.

 We made our way out, and I had managed to sneak a couple of cases of Coke with me.  Sure, it might be old, but it could be drank, and I planned on enjoying some Coke and some games.  Maybe I could invite Lyra over to enjoy them as well, and then something happened to bring the mood up.  The announcement came from Unit B that they found three survivors.  A middle aged woman and her three teenage children.  After all of this time, they were still alive, not crazy, and wanting to go back with us.  The day took something, but in return it gave something back.

[ronjeremypony]

Cat-z Release

Release

“Nnngh.”

I tried to stay quiet, I really did.  Tons of infected were in this city, and that meant doing things nice and quiet like.  It also meant that I was stuck on the top of this building, watching the streets, and waiting for Roderick to give the signal.  Thing was, I knew he wouldn’t be here to give it for another three days.

I looked at the tent I had, cooler, old sleeping bag, and a memory foam pillow.  Almost anything and everything a girl needs for the end of the world.  Well almost everything.  I opened my mouth, letting a ragged pant escape me.  Garrett wasn’t on this mission, and that meant he was most likely back home, at the wall, and I was stuck, needing some relief.

I felt the intruder that was in my bowels.  My jeans were down, around my thighs, the intruder, a special toy we’d made, was currently in me, pressed deeply in there.  The thick rubber testicles were facing the wrong way, making it feel like Garrett should be looking up at me, his hands reaching up, pushing up my shirt, moving my bra, and attacking my tits.

I closed my eyes, thankful for the surface of the roof, and lifted myself up a little.  He pulled out some, I felt his hands move up me.  He pushed my shirt up.

“Garrett, guard duty.”

Regina, do you want some release, or do you want to play coy?

God he’s infuriating, but damn it, I need the release.  I nod, feeling my bra pushed up, his fingers finding my tits, pinching my nipples.

“Careful.”

You love it, and you know it.

He was right.  I did.  I slammed back down on him.

Fuck!  Damn, you’re tight!

“Mmmm, I know, T.. That’s why that one is special…”

Whose ass is it?

“O...Ours,” I panted, “Though, I think I wear it better.”

I felt a hand on my hip, He pulled me down as I thrust down and I felt him go as deep as he could.

“Oh fuck…”

Yes, we are.

Our pace began to pick up, I could feel every vein, the way his cock got thicker, the way it stayed so hard and rigid inside of me.  Oh, for fuck’s sake it was perfect.  Soon there was a rhythm I could barely keep up with.  His hand on my tit squeezed harder, and I let out a loud and long lewd moan.  

I love fucking you, you know why?

I shook my head.

Because you’re so creative, you know how to do things, what things to do, and fuck it, Regina, you’re sexy as hell.

I felt a blush creeping across my face.  He did this to me.  He had the ability to make me blush like an innocent young girl, he knew what to grab, what to hold, and how to fuck the hell out of me. Garrett was a lover that I wasn’t going to walk out on, or give up.  I don’t know about sharing either.

Jesus, I’m going to pop.

I reached down, cupping his balls, feeling them in my hands, the smoothness of them.  He shaved for me.  I squeezed and felt him empty himself inside of me.

“Oh Fuck yes!”

Jesus, he was still hard, I don’t think we’re through here Regina. Feel like going again?

I nodded, slowly pulling up until he was almost out.

Not a lot of water around, So, it’s either still in the ass, or we trade oral.

Yeah, I wasn’t going to suck that after it’d been in my ass.  Sure, I was clean, sure it was fine, still wasn’t going to suck on it until it’d been washed.  It was just the principal of the thing.

“No, we’re gonna keep doing what we’re doing.”

Get naked.

I nodded.  The jeans were restricting me anyway.  The slid off, the boots were already off, the socks, I knew he liked seeing me in those, the shirt and bra were to the side.

That’s what I want to see.  The mold was broke with you Regina, the made one that was perfect…

I smiled, feeling both hands on my breasts now.

“Shut up and fuck me.”

I began moving again, feeling his stiff length still in my bowels, still touching me in places that I wouldn’t have ever believed possible.  God damn was my ass going to be sore, but it’d be worth it.  We moved, although I knew he loved this position.  He didn’t have to move much, not really at all.  All he had to do was keep that fantastic cock of his hard and ready.  

“Whose cock is this?”

Oh Fuck, yours!

“Uh huh, and who gets it whenever she wants?”

You do!

I felt myself slamming down on him, his length was deep in my ass, his hands holding my breasts, and I felt myself coming toward a massive orgasm.  Orgasming from a little self pleasure, that’s okay, but doing it when your lover was buried deep in your pussy or ass, oh fuck, that’s right next to finding nirvana!

“You love it right?!  You love this hot, tight, and sweet little ass?!”

Fuck yes!  You know I do!  I gave you that fuckin’ right didn’t I?

I nodded, feeling my legs getting tender, getting sore, my hips were getting that way too, but I was so close.  So damned close.  I felt one of his fingers find my clit.  He stroked it like a true lover, like a gentleman, not being hard, not attacking the living hell out of like a man child, but taking the time to do it right.  And fuck was he was doing it right.  

“Say my name.”

Regina!

“What was that?”

Regina!

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!  I felt myself go, I felt the flow overtake me, the pleasure reaching heights that I hadn’t felt since before I started on this mission, and then it hit me.  The orgam was massive, and I cupped his balls again.  I felt him empty into my ass once more, and I couldn’t handle it any longer.  I fell forward, onto his body and lay there shuddering for several seconds.  God it felt wonderful, he was still deep inside of me,  his cock remaining just as hard as it had been.  I moaned softly, feeling so full, and having him under me and in me.  I was too tired, there was no way that I could go again, but I could handle this.  

Get a little rest, should be a quiet night.

I nodded, lying there, letting him stay in me.

Might want to make sure that I’m out.  Don’t want to be too sore tomorrow.

I nodded once more, reaching back I found slick base I had the recreation of Garrett’s cock connected to.  I pulled it out, feeling it sliding out until it came out with a pop.  My eyes finally opened and I saw that I was on my sleeping bag, a nice deep, damp spot was near the top, my memory foam pillow had became Garrett’s head, and I was still just outside of the tent.

I looked around to see that no one was here.  Roderick would wait for another two or three days.  Jessica and Steven were two buildings over, inside of a top level apartment, keeping their eyes out on the alleyways, and then there was the crew.  Fifteen gatherers that were getting every scrap of food, medical supplies, and clothing they could find.  If they happened upon some entertainment, then that was fine too.

Like it or not, I was up here, with my cooler, sleeping bag, memory foam pillow, and tent until we left.  I grabbed my clothes, pulled them on, and I looked once more at the sleeping bag.  Tonight would smell like sex, but at that was fine.  The toy was out of the fake semen mix I was using.  It meant that the next time Garrett wouldn’t be able to orgasm.  I felt a little bad about that, but I was sure that he’d enjoy the other thing.

I looked at it standing there, the rigged tripod was holding the Samsung tablet we’d found just fine.  I looked forward to trading with him when I got back.  Seeing what he recorded for me on the Ipad.  I finished dressing, turned the record function off, and touched the gold ring with a ruby in the center of it.  Three days, three days and then I was going to lay claim to Garrett in the best and worsts of ways.  

I smiled as I looked at the false body.  Just a few more days, that’s all I had to wait, just a few more days.  It was a wait I could handle.  I walked toward the side of building, and I could see the street below.  The two panel trucks we brought in were open, ready, and within moments I knew we’d see the first of the gatherers getting back to the trucks and loading them up.  

Three more days.  I looked back down and saw movement, first gatherer already back.  It looked like John, he was the only one that didn’t wear a helmet.   I watched as he put a box on the ramp, stood there for a moment, and then I heard the scream.  I looked toward the direction it came from, and I saw them.  A herd!  An entire fucking herd was on its way!

“Shit!”

[ronjeremypony]

Cat- Z Soft Glow

Soft Glow The soft blue glow shined through the window.  It was strange, having electricity, knowing that everyone was going to get a chance to watch a movie.  The old projector that was recovered last week was a great find.  Still in the box, inside of a best buy that hadn’t seen a customer in at least eight years.  I lifted and moved the strap my rifle was connected to.  I had guard duty for another hour, and with any luck I’d be able to watch the movie as well.

 The last time there was a movie night I had ended up covering my and Tony’s shift.  Tony had a good reason.  After all, passing a kidney stone, even now, was certainly a good enough reason to miss work.  I took some solace in that Tony missed watching whichever film was chosen.  Film, that’s something that certainly doesn’t describe the movies now.  Most of what we have here are old DVDs, BluRays, and some old VHS tapes.  

 I heard that the last movie was an old DVD of Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves.  I wasn’t mad about it, not really, even before this went down I wasn’t a huge Kevin Costner fan, and I’m still not.  Sure, I can watch the Postman, but mostly because I like to think that those guys got the better end of the stick.  Sure, they had that army to deal with, but dealing with bandits, the infected, and the kind of drama that follows about four thousand people living in a single place gets kind of old quick.

 I think that I’d rather trade the Postman his world, at least some of the time anyway.

 “Tish, you there?”

 I looked toward the voice, and the footsteps, and saw Tony making his way.  He was older, pushing fifty, and like most of us that had grown up in a world before all of this he still remembered things like movie nights, normal dates, car rides, and just goofing off in town for no reason.  Hell, he talked about it with me, and even talked about the days he tried to make it as a Youtube content provider.

 From the way he looked I had guessed that Tony was one of those guys that tried to provide content in the form of showing how to prepare for Doomsday.  Instead, he told me that he was an animator, and he used to make web cartoons.  When I found that out I made him promise that if we found a working digital camera, enough paper, and the supplies, that he’d make an original animated series for the kids here.

 I’m still working on the colored pencils.  We talked for a few minutes, and I could see him stalling.  There was something he wasn’t telling me, something that was going on, and I breathed out a sigh.  Somewhere, the Universe’s Fuck with Tish’s Gun was cocking.  I looked at him, and finally after a few more minutes of us both talking, but neither of saying much I knew that whatever it was had to get out.  

 “Tony, you’re early, really early, for your shift.  Not that I mind at all, but normally you’re not this early for anything,” I said.

 “Yeah about that,” he said as he rubbed the back of his head, “See, Willow asked if I’d take her to see the movie, and…”

 I groaned, “And you wanted to know if I’d be willing to cover your guard duty while you took her to the movie.  Dude, I covered you last week.  I get that you were at home, in pain, but still, I covered for you already.”

 He looked at me for a second before looking up at the sky, “I know, I know, but I’ve been wanting to get to know Willow for a while, ever since we found her, and her family, when we went for supplies.  She’s a good gal, and I know that she’s got those two teenage kids.  For fuck’s sake Tish I’m fifty three years old.  I’d like to have another family before I die.”

 I shook my head.  They were supposed to show Ghostbusters, the original one, not that craptastic cash grab that Sony made right before everything went to hell.  Man that meant missing out on some of my favorite scenes.  I so wanted to be in there when Dr. Venkman said one of his most famous lines, “Dogs and Cats living together, Mass Hysteria!”

 I looked into Tony’s eyes and realized that I seriously needed to do him a solid.  He’d owe me, big time, but I had to do this.

 “Okay, okay, I doubt that watching one of the greatest comedies to come out of the nineteen eighties is really going to go the distance in getting you a family, but I’ll cover for the movie, and an hour afterward, but you owe me,” I said.

 He jumped higher than I’d seen him jump in years and pumped his fist into the air, “Yes!”

 I felt his large canned hams size hands grab me by the shoulders, pull me in, and he laid a massive bear hug in on me.  I felt his bearded face moving in for a kiss on the cheek, and I pulled back, “Okay, okay, first, I thought you wanted to get to know Willow, and second, you’re just not what I’m into.”

 He looked at me like I had grown two heads before he gave me a smile, “Uh huh, sure I ain’t.  Hell, my old man physique turns everybody on.  Hell, I make everyone Omisexual.”

 I rolled my eyes at him, “Sure thing Captain Harkness.”

 He gave me another hug, and then I watched as he walked over to the ladder and climbed down.  I watched as he scaled down the side of the shipping container that made up a part of our wall, and I looked back at the second story window where they were going to show the movie.  Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.  After all, it only took about ten minutes to walk the wall, and if there wasn’t much in the way of infected then I could maybe stop for a few moments, watch a small corner of the movie through that window, and then keep going.  Sure, it wasn’t going to be the same as actually watching in the building, but it was what it was.  I adjusted the strap again, trying to keep it from digging into my boob, and began to walk.  Maybe when I walked back by I’d get the see the librarian getting the skirt scared off of her.

[ronjeremypony]

Cat-Z Self Love

Cat-Z

 Self Love

 Tracy groaned as she sat in the old outpost.  As jobs went this was a cakewalk.  Get up, get some food, do a little exercise, check the radio, cook some breakfast, check the radio, have a bottle of water, maybe a shot of whiskey, check the radio, and rinse and repeat for the rest of the day.

 The outpost was a good fifteen miles from anyone, and with the current state of things that fifteen miles might as well been on the damned moon.  All she had to do was listen to any calls for help, relay them to base camp, and make sure that none of the infected got too close to her little cabin.  She hadn’t even bothered to get dressed today.  It was a t-shirt and panties kind of day anyway.

 The old wood stove was currently going full tilt, the snow outside was fresh, and she was going to just enjoy the heat, look at the picture of David, and dream away of getting off of rotation.  She looked at the picture and smiled.  It was something from before the infection began to spread across the nation.  He still had slightly chubby cheeks in this.  She reached out, touching the frame, looking at his green eyes, eyes that loved to look at her when she walked away.

 She knew the game, and it was one she played as well.  Checking out every curve, every line, and being so discreet about it.  Right now though, she wasn’t being a damned bit discreet.  She traced a finger down her shirt, stopping at her breast, feeling the way her nipple was already sticking out.  She closed her eyes, feeling two fingers gently pinch it.

 “David, what are you doing?”

 “Me, nothing at all, but what are you doing?”

 She giggled as she leaned back, letting her ass slide forward in the pleather covered chair, “I’m trying to monitor the radio.”

 She felt two fingers move her panties to the side, move across the lips of her now awaken and very hungry pussy.  She felt one of those fingers trace up and down for a moment, “D...Davie I… Oh god I’ve got t..to work.”

 “You want to work, or do you want some relief?”

 She knew it was wrong. She needed to mind her post, but maybe she could keep an ear open at the same time.  “Relief.”

 That finger snaked its way into her and she let out a soft moan.

 “Oh…  I’ve missed you baby,” she cooed as her hips began to rock, “I’ve missed you so bad.”

 “Me too, and Mmm, that looks fun.”

 She felt another finger slip into her ass.  Normally she was against this.  After all, she wasn’t really big into anal, but damned if this didn’t feel good.  She moved until she was barely on the seat, her breathing was hard, her feet up on the desk, and she began to moan out.

 “Fuck…  David, Fuck… Right there… Oh God right there, anytime you want it baby, anytime you want my ass…  Mmmm…”

 She felt her heart racing, her need growing, and those fingers worked hard to get her exactly where she needed to go.  Soon her t-shirt was up, off, and on the floor, “David… I’m so close…”

 She felt it go a little longer, the fingers working hard, and then she felt the first stirrings of an orgasm.  It hit hard, threatening to completely knock her out. Two weeks of nothing, and damn, was this a good one.  Her eyes opened after a bit, she smacked her lips, and then she noticed the red indicator light of broadcasting signal was lit up.  

 She looked around and saw that her foot was resting on the broadcast button for the microphone.  She pulled back her heel, and once it came back the light went off.  Desperately, she hoped that no one was listening at that moment.