Iron Mike

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Iron Mike Page 16

by Patricia Rose


  He knelt beside her, dazed, for a long moment after he’d given up on the CPR. Then he stood, his mind numb but his feet moving. He went through the house, grabbing the supplies they might need and loading them into his mother’s SUV. And they hauled ass out of Louisville, heading straight to Gran’s farm. He already told Kari about his Poppa, and about Gran’s suicide. The rest, she already knew because he picked her up from the side of the road the following day.

  Mike finally finished speaking, and Kari nodded, not saying anything for a long moment. Finally, she spoke, her voice subdued. “My dad’s retirement ceremony was on Invasion Day,” she said softly. “Other than me and my mom, his career was the whole world to him. More than anything, he wanted me to be there with him, and I swore to him I would be. I don’t think he believed me … I’ve broken my word to him too many times. Then, just as he would’ve expected, I let him down. I woke up late, totally hung over and dopesick. I was screaming at Malik, telling him he had to drive me to the fort, like yesterday, when the EMP hit. Everyone – Malik, the friends we invited over to party through the night … everyone … was dead. Out of twenty-nine people, I was the only one who lived.”

  Mike nodded soberly. “You know you’ve made it up to your dad, Kari,” he said softly. “I’ve seen him watching you during PT. He is so proud of you.”

  Kari shrugged. “Yeah. Well, it’s about time I grew up,” she murmured.

  They sat together for a moment, and then Kari punched Mike on the arm. He winced, pretending to rub a new bruise. She looked away suddenly, an expression on her face Mike had never seen before. Shyness?

  “What?” he prodded. He bumped her with his shoulder when she took too long to reply.

  “Nothing,” Kari finally said. She waited a long moment, and spoke again. “It’s just … they have a bed. A real bed, like this enormous king-sized thing with a pillow top mattress. And a comforter.”

  Mike nodded, and glanced at the bikes. “Go ahead,” he said with a grin. “I’ll take first watch.”

  Kari bit her lower lip, hesitating, and Mike looked at her, puzzled. “What?” he asked again.

  “They have a patio in the back,” she said, her voice almost too soft for Mike to hear. “We could put the bikes there – even inside the house, if you think that would be better. I don’t think they’ll mind – they probably aren’t coming back. And then we could … both … use the bed.”

  Mike studied Kari for a long moment, his eyes suddenly widening as the meaning of her words penetrated. “You mean -?” he asked, his tongue feeling thick as he stumbled over the words.

  Kari nodded once, looking away.

  “Have you … done it before?” Mike asked awkwardly.

  Kari nodded. “I had a guy I liked, before the invasion. Malik. It wouldn’t have gone anywhere – we both knew that – but he was funny and fun to be with. So … yeah, we did it a few times. You?”

  Mike hesitated a long moment. Finally, he said, “No. I was dating a girl in my calculus class, but … it never got that far.”

  Kari seemed pleased with his reply. “Then maybe there’s something I can teach you,” she said softly. “That’d be a switch.”

  Mike nodded, considering, and abruptly stood, holding his hand out to Kari to help pull her up. “Hell, yeah,” he said with a huge grin. “Your father’s already going to kill me, so what’s another infraction?”

  Kari laughed quietly, and they each mounted their bikes, turned the keys without starting them, kicked the machines into neutral, and then walked them around to the back of the house. Mike was surprised; he honestly didn't expect the patio door to be wide enough to accommodate the sidecar, but he was able to walk the Harley through with almost a millimeter to spare.

  Mike dismounted, studying the door to the inside of the house; that was definitely a no-go as far as the sidecar was concerned. Still … he looked around the glassed-in porch. There were blinds – and they rolled down by a hand-operated crank system. Between them, they made short work of closing the blinds and barricading the door. Mike unloaded the ordnance, refusing to leave it out on the porch, while Kari walked her motorcycle further into the house, wincing as she tracked grease and travel grime all over the beige carpet.

  Fifteen minutes later, they stood in the doorway of the master bedroom, Mike carrying in the last of the backpacks and Kari holding a lit candle, two Shrek glasses and the bottle of ‘Zin. She was right – the bed was an enormous California king, neatly-made, with stacks of pillows and a luxurious tapestry comforter. Kari smiled softly, setting the candle on the bedside table and turning to Mike. “See?” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper.

  “I see,” Mike replied, nodding his approval. His breath caught then, as Kari set the glasses and wine bottle down and began to undress. Mike watched her shadow flickering against the wall as her jacket, and then her top came off. She looked at him for just a moment before reaching behind herself and unhooking her bra, releasing the swell of her breasts. Mike swallowed, setting the backpack down without even noticing it as he stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind him. He turned his complete attention to Kari.

  She smiled, a combination of shyness and seduction in her eyes as she removed her boots and socks, very slowly unzipped her jeans, pushing them down and stepping out of them, and stood in the candlelight wearing nothing but a pair of pink cotton panties.

  Mike swallowed again, his mouth dry and his palms suddenly sweaty. He wondered fleetingly if his Maxim reading would actually be of any benefit, but pushed the thought aside when Kari held her hand out to him. He stepped forward, taking her hand, his eyes traveling down her body. She was amazingly, stunningly beautiful, at least to his eyes.

  “You’ll have to tell me what you like,” he said, his voice hoarse and dry.

  “I will,” Kari promised, releasing his hand and turning to pour the glasses of wine. Mike stared intently as she walked the two steps to the nightstand, her ass swaying in a way it never did on post. She handed him a glass, and they each drank. Kari sipped her wine, and Mike took a hefty swallow of his, wishing, for a moment, it was a shot of bourbon instead of wine. He took another swallow, setting both glasses down on the nightstand, not taking his eyes from Kari. He slowly reached out, touching her neck lightly and running his fingers down her shoulders and then moved to the front of her body, softly touching her breasts.

  Kari closed her eyes when his fingertips brushed, feather-soft, against her nipples, and she arched her back in response. “You’re overdressed, soldier,” she said softly.

  “Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” Mike replied, a teasing edge in his quiet voice. Kari grinned as he obligingly shucked out of his clothing until he stood before her only in well-tented boxers. He stepped into her, cupping her head and bringing her mouth to his.

  Kari melted into the kiss, leaning against him, pressing the cool bare flesh of her breasts and belly against his warmer chest, the light patch of fur tickling her nipples until she pressed more tightly. Mike deepened the kiss and their tongues met, danced, and met again. He kept one hand cupped around her head, almost as though he thought she might escape if he didn’t. His other hand moved down her back, to her waist and her rounded ass, cupping her cheek and pulling her even closer to him. Kari gasped, smiling as she felt Mike’s hardness press against her belly.

  “There’s bottled water,” she offered shyly. “We can wash.”

  Mike frowned, not liking the thought of the cold water, and then he reconsidered with a wry smile. At his nod, Kari stepped back into the hall, leaving the door open so the candle could provide a bit of light. She returned momentarily with two gallon jugs of spring water. They wouldn’t waste it; whatever was left in the morning would be tucked into the sidecar with their canteens and the ten gallon water containers. Kari smiled as she stepped back into the bedroom, the candle making the room feel warm and cozy. Mike took the water from her while she turned and re-locked the door. He headed into the master bath, which was well-appointed and
clean, save for the light coating of dust. He set one of the jugs on the counter, meeting Kari’s eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

  “Go ahead,” he said, his voice still dry. “I think I’ll use the shower.”

  Kari bit her lower lip to stifle her laugh and watched him in the mirror as he pulled off his boxers and carried the jug of water into the shower stall, closing the glass door behind him. God … he had a nice ass! With Mike facing away from her, naked, Kari could see how lean and hard-muscled he had become. He was definitely not a gawky teenage boy anymore! Kari sponge bathed, listening to the sounds of Mike preparing to wash himself, and the sudden inhalation as he poured the bottle over his head and chest, the water mercilessly cascading down his body and killing his erection.

  When he stepped out of the shower and toweled off a few minutes later, Kari was in the bedroom, naked, the bed already turned down and most of the pillows stacked on a chair. She smiled, a bit shyly, a bit seductively, as he came into the room. She slipped onto the bed, pulling the sheet up to cover herself. Mike got in on the other side and immediately pulled the sheet away and down. “No,” he said firmly. “I want to see you. All of you.”

  Kari nodded. She lay back on the bed slowly, forcing herself to relax. Her body was nothing to be ashamed of – the past three months of hard living and merciless calisthenics had taken care of the ten pounds she’d needed to drop before the invasion. Now, her body was slim and toned; she was as fit as any other soldier, but still very much a woman.

  She sighed in contentment as Mike moved over her, holding her face gently as he kissed her. Time slowed and her head spun, the sensation of safety and pleasure so rare it was almost alien. She kissed Mike back, running her hand down his back and cupping his ass, already feeling his renewed erection pressing against her leg. So much for his cold shower!

  Mike trailed kisses down Kari’s neck, pausing and inhaling appreciatively. “What is that?” he murmured, curious. He’d never smelled the scent on Kari before.

  “Cashmere Mist,” she replied, a bit self-consciously. “It’s Donna Karan. The woman who lived here must have used it. Do you like it?”

  “Mmhmm,” Mike affirmed, returning his attention to her neck and then to the hollow of her throat. He was aching with fullness, but he was determined to satisfy Kari first, even if he needed to use every trick he’d read about.

  Mike moved downward, cupping Kari’s breast and gently laving a nipple. His hard cock seeped and then jerked, as if of its own accord. Kari moaned softly and arched upward, the softness of her breast pushing into his mouth. He obliged her unspoken request, sucking with more pressure, pleased to hear her breathing hitch. He allowed his hands to wander then, relying on instinct even more than thought. Kari’s soft exhalations or gasps told him when he found sensitive areas, and he remembered them as though he were a cartographer mapping her body. She squirmed, arching upward with a gasp when he reached her mound, touching the warm slickness with a sense of exultation. He moved his fingers slightly, finding a rhythm and following the soft gasps she made, and the slickness spread, making it even easier to move his fingers in her soft, warm folds. Kari cried out suddenly, the muscles in her stomach contracting as her first orgasm hit her, taking Mike by surprise. He slowed his fingers, and then stopped, leaving them in her wetness as he kissed her passionately, much of his earlier hesitation gone.

  She reached for him, and Mike evaded her, shaking his head. “Not yet,” he said firmly. Kari raised an eyebrow. “I won’t last long,” he explained simply. “I’m too close already. But I know you have more in you, so as long as we have nothing better to do, I intend to play.”

  He smiled at the bemused expression on her face and proceeded to do exactly what he said. He explored all of her, with all of his senses. He smelled her, musk mixed with the scent of soap. He tasted her, surprised it was nothing like what the Maxim articles described. He felt her, the soft, warm slickness beneath his tongue and the involuntary jerks and spasms. And he heard her, the moans and gasps giving way to cries, then sobs, of pleasure. And finally, when her body was limp and lethargic, and the pleased smile on her face told him her tension was sated, he guided himself into her, feeling her legs wrap around his waist. He thrust experimentally, then again, the sensations reeling through his mind and body. He was right. He didn’t last long at all.

  The first time.

  March 15.

  Mike

  They slept past sunrise, both waking with a start at almost the same moment. Mike glanced at his watch – it was almost 0900!

  “Shit! Get a move on, soldier!” he said, softening the harsh words with a happy grin as he hopped out of the bed and began searching for his clothes.

  Kari pulled a pillow over her head. “Five more minutes, Dad, pleeeeaze?” she whined.

  Mike grabbed the pillow from her and mercilessly yanked the comforter off as well, exposing her to the frigid cold of the bedroom. Kari yelped indignantly, but she got up and started scrounging for her own clothes. They packed everything up in fifteen minutes. Mike hesitated a moment, and stepped into the bathroom, emerging with a rolled up towel. Kari raised an eyebrow, but Mike said nothing, simply adding the towel to his backpack. They were on the road heading for Ashland by 0920.

  They made good time, and Mike felt better than he had in months. He wasn’t sure how much of that was due to the perfect weather, the good travel conditions, or the fact that he and Kari had made love in every way they could think of all through the night, finally falling asleep close to three in the morning. Mike chuckled to himself, thinking the last probably had a bit more to do with his mood than the bright sunshine and warm spring breeze.

  At one point on I-64, they were actually able to hit interstate speed on the interstate. That lasted almost seven miles before another tangle of wrecked vehicles blocked the roadway again, slowing them to twenty miles per hour. They got through that mess in about half an hour, so they hit the outskirts of Ashland close to 1300. Mike signaled for the break, and they pulled over to the side of the road. Kari used the telescoping aluminum pole from Mike’s camera bag to prod the ground for Feeders while Mike dug two of the shit-brown MREs out of the sidecar. They both sat on the road and peeled open the food packets, using a bit of water from their canteens to activate the chemical cookers.

  “You seem Cheshire-cat pleased with yourself,” Kari scolded teasingly as they waited for their meals to heat.

  “And why not?” Mike replied. “It’s a beautiful day, got a great ride … oh, yeah, and there’s that whole passage to manhood thing last night.”

  Kari snorted and rolled her eyes.

  “What?” Mike challenged, grinning at her. “Rite of passage – it’s a big deal, trust me. Mrs. Persky could go on about it for hours.” He pulled his MRE pouch out of the heating bag and squeezed the contents, trying to distribute the heat evenly. Kari laughed, the sound like bells to his soul.

  “For me, it was Mr. Kelly,” she smiled. “And yeah – rite of passage and ‘man’s inhumanity to man.’” She said the last in as deep a baritone as she could manage, eliciting a chuckle from Mike.

  They ate their food without much enthusiasm. MREs got old the first time you ate them, and they’d each been on enough training exercises and scouting missions to be well beyond sick of them. Still, protein was protein and carbs were carbs, so they both finished the ready-made meals without complaining.

  Something about the apocalypse makes a person grateful for even the crap things in life, Mike thought as he finished fueling up the bikes. All the more so for the sweet. He mounted and adjusted his helmet, watching Kari’s long legs as she slid over the seat of her motorcycle. He pulled his visor down quickly so she wouldn’t see his appreciative leer – he didn’t want to get punched again.

  With a rev of the engine, he took the lead, starting them off at a good forty miles per hour. The weather was holding, and it seemed to Mike it was going to be a perfect day.

  Of course, that’s when all hell broke
loose.

  Hershey

  Hershey paced back and forth in the small office at work, his brown forehead wrinkled in worry. His stomach growled, and his head felt dizzy and heavy. He was very hungry, but the thirst was, by far, much worse. His throat felt like he had swallowed sand. He walked back into the room with the pens, his ears down and his tail tucked tightly beneath him. Another one was dead, this time the corgi mix. He couldn’t smell her yet, but he knew anyway.

  Hershey looked anxiously at the black lab, wishing his friend would move to the cage door to touch noses with him like he had done so many times before. The lab looked up at him, thumping his tail once, without energy. He was weaker and even thirstier than Hershey; when the water was gone from Hershey’s bowl, he, at least, was able to use the water bowl in the small room where the humans went to sit and mark their territory.

  For once, Hershey didn’t even wonder why they wasted their urine like that; his brain was too foggy and his throat too sore for him to care. When he first went into the room to use the water bowl, he thought to himself he would have shared some of the water with the big black lab, if the lab could get out of his pen. Even then, though, he knew he was lying to himself. He wouldn’t have shared it. He would have growled at the lab, and even fought him for the water. But he drank the last of the water the afternoon before, and all day today, he was without.

  Hershey moved back to the front door and whined again, scratching at it hopefully. He had done that hundreds of times since his human went outside two days ago. He knew something was wrong. Clare never forgot work. Work was the most important thing a human could do. Also … she wouldn’t have forgotten him.

 

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