Dystopian Girls 4

by Rodzil LaBraun

  "It's okay to be proud," she whispered as she leaned closer. "Mason, you deserve this."

  A tiny tear rebelliously squirted out of each fucking eye when I blinked from her remark. I didn't like to cry in front of people, of course. Not many men did. Bianka was the last person that I wanted to see me like that. But my emotional response at that moment was so strong, I just couldn't control it. I swallowed hard, and looked down, hoping in vain that she didn't notice.

  Bianka quickly wiped away my tears with her thumbs. "Sorry about that," she said softly. She knew what she did. "Nobody noticed. Walk it off, big boy." Then she turned and strolled away, knowing that was the best thing that she could do for me. The more sympathy that she could have given me would have only made matters worse. I took a deep breath and returned my attention to my breakfast. I caught Riley out of the corner of my eye, watching me like a hawk. Though not near as strong as Bianka, or even some of the other women, no one would defend me more fiercely than her.

  CHAPTER THREE:

  Jada's shiny black sniper rifle hung down her back from a matching shoulder strap. It looped over her neck then down between her large breasts, which were complaining about the separation. A black leather holster with a snap strap kept her pistol at her hip. She wore her signature workout clothes again today, matching red and black shorts and snug tee. Anyone in our growing community would be able to recognize her at a distance. The only problem with that was an educated enemy could do the same.

  We had not yet spotted any snipers, or scouts. But I figured they would have to be out there somewhere. The New-HAM were not going to just let us live peacefully after we killed so many of their people and claimed the spoils. We had hidden the first truck that we acquired in hopes of throwing them off the scent, then retrieved it the next day. There was no disguising our location at that point. They knew where we lived. Might as well make use of everything that we gained.

  We parked that first truck at the end of our street to use for cover, as well as a mini skank hospital. The other two formed the new gate, as we chose to call it. Each were positioned with their back wheels off the road and their front bumpers only three feet apart. They blocked access by vehicle into our neighborhood more than five hundred feet down the road from our little cul-de-sac. Unlike the scenes from action movies, attackers would be hesitant to try to plow through them with their own trucks.

  Approaching the area, I felt like I was being guided into a labor camp. Dozens of diseased and/or recovering women were busy digging holes and carrying fence components, poles and panels. I had the idea yesterday during dinner of enclosing our entire area by stealing fences from other yards in the neighborhood. I fully expected someone to argue against it. It would be a tremendous amount of work. Just because the idea sounded good to me didn't mean that we should do it. I remembered my failed initial plan of closing in our garden at the last house.

  Instead, they ran with it. Jada and Bianka took control of the project, no longer completely distasteful of the army of skanks at our disposal. Jamila helped them maintain order when needed, but she was being stretched between several endeavors at the moment. Over half of the diseased women were usable as workers. Those recovering were nearly human again.

  "My question is this," Jada said to me. I was wondering why she needed to wait until we arrived at the two parked trucks before revealing her idea. "Should we continue to build the fence going away from the trucks on each side until they are done? Or, should we concentrate on placing more objects outside this gateway to improve our tactical advantage?"

  I tried to put myself in the shoes of an attacker. How would I penetrate the barrier around this compound once it was done? I would find a weakness, of course. The path of least resistance. If the entrance is fortified, I'd go around.

  "Actually, I think we are going about this the wrong way," I told her. "We want this entrance to be more inviting instead."

  "Inviting?" she showed her confusion.

  "Yes, inviting." I turned to face her and found her smiling. "What are you grinning about?"

  "I'm just eager to hear your explanation," she said. "Honestly, I'm expecting you to twist our plan of strengthening our defenses somehow into a way of going after Alexa."

  "Jada, don't start."

  "I'm not starting," she replied. "I'm waiting. You asked, I answered."

  "First of all, that is not where I was going with this. But why are you so dead set against me going searching for the love of my life?"

  "I'm not dead set against rescuing Alexa," she said, anger rising in her voice. "You know that I love her, too. I'm against recklessness. You need a lot more recon before going after her. Otherwise, you're going to get the women that you still have killed. As much as you hate to admit it, you are better off here with us now than losing us to get her back. You act like she is the fucking queen sometimes. Don't you realize what you have here?"

  I wanted to get angry back at her, but I couldn't. That time had passed. She was essentially right, but there was no way that I was going to admit it. I could not possibly utter a statement out loud that sounded like I was content without Alexa. We stared at each other for a short time. I assumed that she was mulling over possible things to say just like me, then considered none of them appropriate.

  "So," I finally said, after a deep breath. "The point that I'm making is this. If we get attacked, we prefer them to funnel through here. This is where our defense would be strongest. To make that happen, we need to do two things. Make the rest of our perimeter look more challenging to invade, and this area appear to be the best option."

  "How do we do that?"

  "Continue with the fence plan. Two of the houses on that side of the street already have fenced backyards. Attach to those. I don't know how long that it will take, but we'll end up walled in from river to river. Then we can put every possible solar light from the yards on top of the fence. Light it up enough to discourage intruders at night."

  "So, don't add more fence here then?" Jada asked, gesturing beyond the two trucks. It was taking her a moment to shift gears.

  "No," I replied. "And park the trucks at odd angles, too. Did you get them gassed up?"

  "Yes, the skanks siphoned more than enough gas from the cars throughout the area. We'll probably end up with at least fifty gallons extra. Are you still planning on using them to storm the military base over on Hew Hampshire Avenue?"

  "No, probably not," I answered. That was one of my more desperate ideas early on. "But it is best to be prepared, whether we use the trucks to attack or escape." Jada nodded, evidently understanding my new tact on the perimeter defense. "Hopefully, Alexa is still alive when we find her. Tamika said that they are executing mutants."

  "That's the same Tamika that deceived the only one of us that could not be deceived. If she fooled Alexa, she fooled us, too."

  "I hope you are right."

  Jada was much more independent than the other women. She didn't show her affection as often. When she slid her arm around my waist and pulled me to her, she caught my attention. Looking up at me she said softly, "We'll get her back, Mason. The skanks are already scouting for us. After their reports, Bianka and I will go. Once we get back, we'll form a plan."

  "I'll go with you," I said. It wasn’t meant to sound like asking for permission.

  "No, you won't."

  "I can go if I want. You can't stop me."

  "We can't risk losing you, Mason," she replied, taking the softer tact instead of ordering me to stay. "All this good work being done here falls apart without you. And I won't have to stop you. Riley will find a way to keep you from going. I think you already know that."

  It was true. I could see my new primary wife handcuffing me to the bed post if she thought I would sneak out. Her devotion to my wellbeing was stronger than a mother's love for her child. How did I get so lucky? Though in times like this it felt like a curse, restricting me like a rebellious young boy.

  "We'll make the adjustments here like you sai
d," Jada told me. "I'll let you know when I have more information about the militia group. Did Bianka ask you about training the troops?" I nodded. "We'll have an army soon, Mason. And trained soldiers instead of those scared shitless girls that they sent here. It won't be long before nobody messes with us."

  It sounded like a dream, despite Jada’s confidence. How could we make ourselves more formidable than military platoons?

  I walked back to the house to see what other issues that I needed to handle. I knew what Jada just said was wishful thinking, even if we managed to hold the miliary at bay. There was always someone bigger and badder ready to take what you have. As much as I disliked getting involved in a power struggle, I now had the drive to do more than just survive.

  I had voiced an idea to Jada about capturing as many stray dogs as we could. If she were able to tame them, or rather direct their hostility toward an enemy, that could improve our defenses. I doubted that anyone would expect to face a pack of dogs. However, Jada’s limited success with her mutant skill reduced her confidence. She was unwilling to spend much of her time on the project. I could understand that. I put the word out to capture as many canines as we can get our hands on, as they pass through our area. One of the houses had a chain link kennel already.

  The sod was all turned up in the yard of the house on the corner where I turned onto the cul-de-sac. Stella was guiding her horse with a recently improved plow to make more sections of farm. We now had to feed over a hundred people. Several dirty looking women were using shovels in the wake of the plow to assist with the ground preparation. I assumed that most of them were reborn, but it was hard to tell. Many of the skanks did not have the strength or endurance for physical labor.

  Stella waved and smiled as I passed by. When I did the same, the rest of the women joined in the greeting. There was no doubt that everyone here knew who I was. I should make a better effort to learn their names as well, especially the reborn. Once they were fully recovered like Jamila, we could have a couple different girls over for dinner every evening. That might go a long way with morale.

  It was the end of the world as we knew it. Again. The first time was the literal end of the world. Everything after that was about survival and finding people that you could trust to watch your back. Get food and shelter. Stay out of the way of trouble. Just survive.

  Being found and attacked by New-HAM meant that we would need to fight or flee. The flight option was off the table as long as they had Alexa. So just surviving was no longer enough. It was time to impose our will on others. It was the first time that I ever honestly believed that use of physical force was needed to bring about a better world. We could save more people by fighting the existing powers than hiding from them.

  The face of every soldier that died on the road was burned into my memory, haunting me. Those people were just like us, trying to stay alive by any means that they could. Whether they chose to join the militia or were forcibly recruited, they fought because their lives depended on it. Most of them were not bad people. I was sure of it.

  When tiny Jamila saw me walking up the middle of the street, she came running over. She was in the process of leading a group of reborn in cleaning out the first house. She chose the one that was in the best shape as the first project. Most of the furniture was salvageable. The place would likely be in good condition by the end of the day if they kept at it. It wouldn't have power, though.

  More filtered water was needed for the reborn. Jamila already helped Riley train a few of them on how to use the filtered bottles to clean the river water. I didn't know how long it would be before the recycled filters stopped doing an acceptable job. Hopefully I didn't have to worry about that soon.

  That would be another huge advantage to expanding our territory. We could take over sections with stores to dramatically improve our supply situation. Eventually, we would completely strip these homes of valuables. More filters for drinkable water was a priority long term. Otherwise, we would have to do a lot of boiling over an open flame.

  I got another hug and kiss on the cheek when Jamila reached me. Then she turned around to see if the other women saw it. She was obviously proud of being this close to me. A few of the reborn women stopped and stared, so I waved. They happily returned the greeting.

  Then I touched the M on Jamila's necklace. "So, M is for Mason, huh?"

  "Of course," Jamila replied with a smile. "Bianka has one, too."

  "I saw it."

  "I have the girls searching for more. It may take a while. Might have to raid a store."

  "For M's?" I asked. Surely being branded as my top women was not that important.

  "Yes, we all must have one," she answered like it was obvious. "I can't leave anyone out. Riley should be next, then Stella, since they are official wives." She did the air quote thing for the word official. Did I have unofficial wives? Is that what Jamila considered herself?

  "Why did you give Bianka the first one? After yours of course."

  "Because she is your best friend," she replied, showing no disappointment that another woman held that position in her eyes. "I watch. I see. She is very good for you."

  "Yes, she is," I replied, remembering the moment we had in the kitchen when she wiped away my tears. It wasn’t done like a lover or mother would do. She felt like that soldier that never left your side in the trenches of warfare, then drank with you until they fell off the bar stool. "Nobody gets jealous of her?"

  Jamila's face lit up. "She is gay, Mason!"

  "Yeah, I'm aware of that." I laughed.

  "She is like a man friend," she added. "She don't want your love, like we do."

  The statement was once again a reminder of how good I had it. Several beautiful women vying for my affection. They deserved my protection, too. I couldn't risk them in some hasty attempt to get Alexa back. I would need to follow Jada's instructions and wait until we knew where she was being held.

  The comment also brought back to mind the day that Jamila stood naked in front of all of us for an awkward health inspection. She was surprisingly comfortable doing so. When we encouraged Bianka to make contact with the ex-skank's sexy petite body, Jamila was not the least bit opposed. The wheels were turning naughtily in my head.

  "Have you ever been with another woman?" I asked.

  The question surprised her since she was not privy to the train of thought inside my perverted brain. "Sexually?" she asked. I nodded. "No, not really, not all the way."

  "Not all the way? What does that mean?"

  "I used to have to do some things for work, you know, before."

  What the hell? Was Jamila misunderstanding me? "Are you telling me that you had to almost have sex with another woman for work? What kind of job is that?"

  "I was dancer, Mason," she answered quietly, looking around to make sure no one overheard.

  "Oh my God!" I exclaimed. I couldn't help my outburst. It made so much sense now. That was why she could stand naked in front of a group of people. It was also why she was not too embarrassed about her little brown titty being exposed when we first met. "You were a stripper!"

  "Shhhh!" Jamila placed her tiny hand over my mouth. "Be quiet!" she whispered. "I am a leader now. Nobody can know. Please, Mason. Don't tell anybody my secret."

  "Not even Bianka?"

  "No!" Jamila managed to keep inching closer to me during the conversation. Flashbacks of all our moments together went racing through my brain. She was so seductive because she did it for a living. Was it all fake? No, I couldn't believe that. We were both very fond of each other. "Why would you tell Bianka? Because she is your best friend? Or because you want to see me play sex with her?"

  "Uh, I would actually really enjoy that."

  "Mason, you bad!" She swatted my chest playfully and looked for eavesdroppers again. Then she looked up at me with the most seductive eyes and hint of a smile. I wondered how many guys that she had used that on.

  "So, that's a no?"

  "Why you want that?"

&nbs
p; "Wouldn't every guy want to watch two gorgeous women go at it?"

  She blushed at my compliment, and for the first time I thought it might be an act. "I was not prostitute, Mason! I never had sex for money. If I did this thing with Bianka for you, I would be playing. She would not be. We would hurt her. Don't ask this thing, okay?"

  It made sense. I was surprised at how much Jamila cared for Bianka's welfare more than I did during that proposal. No, I was embarrassed, like someone just proved to the world that I was an asshole. I mean, I still had an interest in watching them two having sex, or even just playing around. But I didn't want Bianka to get hurt by it. No, I couldn't allow that to happen.

  "Of course," I told her. "I was just joking anyway."

  "I know," she replied. But I was certain that she knew better. She was sparing my feelings. "You a naughty boy. Maybe a lap dance for you tonight, huh? Isn't today your birthday?"