Juggernaut

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Juggernaut Page 19

by Amelia C. Gormley

“I’m, um, not sure I’m comfortable continuing that if you’re not getting anything out of it.” Zach frowned and looked away. “Doesn’t feel fair.”

  “Hey.” He reached out and caught Zach’s jaw, compelling him to face Nico again. “Who says I don’t get anything out of it?”

  “But you didn’t— You won’t—”

  “Just because I didn’t finish while I was in your company doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy myself.” Nico cocked his head, smiling slowly. He turned on seduction with instinctive ease, and he saw the way Zach’s lips parted before he licked them, the way his pupils dilated and his breath quickened. Now Nico’s libido was definitely in the game, even if his body had to sit this one out. “I liked kissing you. Touching you. Tasting you. Knowing I was the first man ever to do that for you. It was sexy. I can’t wait to do it again.”

  Zach closed his eyes and shuddered. He shifted in his seat enough that Nico had a pretty good idea of what was happening in the shadows below his chest. He wished there were more light so he could appreciate the bulge in Zach’s lap and the beauty of his long, thick dick.

  “And just because I’m not really up for playing myself right now doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun.” Zach’s eyes shot open at that, and Nico grinned, feeling absolutely predatory. “I want to see you get yourself off.”

  “What?” An uncertain smile lifted Zach’s lips and wavered there, as though he wasn’t sure whether Nico was being serious or not.

  Nico reached across the space between them and ran his fingertips down the tented front of Zach’s trousers. “I do. Will you put on a show for me?”

  Zach licked his lips again, nervousness combatting desire in his eyes. “I don’t— I mean, it’s not that I’m opposed, but—”

  “You don’t have to,” Nico reassured him gently. He covered the bulge he’d been teasing as if protecting it, then withdrew his hand. “Not if you don’t want to. Not if you don’t feel comfortable. But if you do, I’d really love to see what you look like when you’re pleasuring yourself.”

  Zach stared at him for a long, indecisive moment, and then he reached down, and Nico heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper sliding down.

  “Where’s our flashlight?” Nico whispered.

  Zach reached into the back, fishing one out of the supplies stacked there. Nico turned it on and laid it on the console between them, not aiming it at Zach’s crotch like a spotlight, but using it to shed enough light for him to see what was happening down there.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured, spying the tip of Zach’s cock protruding from the waistband of his underwear. “Will you push everything down so I can see better?”

  Another moment of hesitation, and then Zach levered himself up and shoved his trousers and underwear down his thighs, letting his bare ass sink back onto the seat. He gave Nico time to indulge in the sight of him before he licked his palm and reached down to wrap his hand around his dick.

  “Like this?” he asked, panting softly after the first gasp of contact had faded.

  “God, yes. Just like that.” Despite his headache, the tightness of arousal tugged at Nico’s balls, filling his cock. It didn’t matter. It was a pleasant sensation, but not something he felt any need to do anything about. He watched Zach’s face as his hand made that first slow slide up the length of his cock, watched Zach’s head fall back and his throat vibrate as he groaned. “That’s it. Keep going.”

  It was magical. It was a show Nico had put on for people before, but he’d never seen it done for his own enjoyment. And the way Zach gave himself over to it was so pure and unreserved that it took Nico’s breath away. Once engaged, Zach didn’t hold back anything.

  “Talk to me,” Nico whispered. “Does it feel good?”

  “Yes.” Zach nodded emphatically, and Nico could see the sheen of sweat on his forehead. He could hear the quaver in his voice. “So good. Just . . . wish it were you . . . touching me . . .”

  “Then slow down. If it were me jerking you off right now, I’d take my time with it.” Zach immediately obeyed. The pumping of his fist slowed to an easy glide, and some of the edgy tension in his body relaxed. “Good. That’s it. Make love to yourself. Let me see you do it.”

  Zach’s eyes opened again, a flicker of self-consciousness and indecision there. And then he closed them and very deliberately pushed his shirt up with his other hand, using his fingers to toy with his nipple. “Oh God!” he gasped as he pinched himself lightly, and Nico echoed his groan.

  “Fuck, yeah. God, that’s sexy. You’re so damn beautiful.”

  Silence punctuated by moans and pants filled the space between them. The windows fogged up, and the air in the close confines was so thick with the essence of aroused male that Nico could damn near taste Zach’s musk on his tongue. He could see Zach unraveling, the helpless way the pace of his stroking increased and became more erratic, the uncontrolled noises he made. Unable to stop himself, Nico reached out and laid his fingertips on the hand pumping up and down Zach’s dick. The touch triggered something in Zach, and he cried out, jerking, his cum spurting over the top of his fist in a hot, slick torrent to dribble down his hand and coat Nico’s fingertips.

  “Yesss . . .” Nico closed his eyes and sighed, breathing in the scent of Zach’s spunk and sweat. He brought Zach’s hand to his mouth and sucked his fingers clean, opening his eyes to see Zach watching him, enraptured.

  “Thank you,” Zach whispered, looking boneless slumped there in his seat.

  Nico smiled. “What are you thanking me for?”

  Zach’s gaze wavered, his slack, sated expression softening into vulnerability. “I’m not sure. I guess we haven’t done much. So why is it that—”

  Nico waited, but Zach didn’t finish the thought. He instead began hunting around for something to wipe his hand on, finally settling on his shirt. He mopped his forehead with the back of his arm and turned on the truck to open the window and let cool air flood in, driving away the musky scent.

  “What?” Nico prompted.

  “Why should what we’ve done be the most incredible experiences I’ve ever had?” Zach demanded suddenly, twisting and shuffling to straighten his clothing while still seated.

  “I don’t know.” Nico turned to lie on his side as best he could. “Maybe because you’re free for the first time? You can be who you are and enjoy what you want without worrying about what anyone else is going to say or do about it?”

  Zach processed that for a moment. “I guess that makes sense.” He met Nico’s eyes again with a tremulous smile.

  That vulnerable look was going to get him far.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Nico reached over and laced his fingers with Zach’s again, which was really the best he could offer as far as physical closeness went just now. “Let’s just get some more rest. If my head is doing better tomorrow, we’ll see if I can drive for a while.”

  Zach nodded and tried to make himself comfortable as well, writhing around for several minutes before he mirrored Nico’s position, lying somewhat on his side facing Nico. Once he was settled, he caught Nico’s hand and held on, brushing a kiss across Nico’s fingers before his breathing evened out once more.

  Nico closed his eyes, but it would be hours before that terrifying ache in his chest that blossomed again at the gentle touch of Zach’s lips would let him sleep.

  “Nico. Wake up. There are people in hermetic suits with guns blocking the road ahead.”

  It looked like something out of a vid about some far-fetched and horrific dystopian future. Zach had to close his eyes against the sight for a moment.

  This is it. This is our reality now. Oh Lord, what are we going to do?

  He stopped a good hundred yards or more from them, waiting. They were spread across the road, facing the truck, their weapons ready.

  He’d let Nico sleep as long as possible on the final leg of the journey to Colorado Springs because he honestly had no idea what to expect once they got there. Even four days after his injury, Nico w
as still struggling with blinding headaches and periods of disorientation. He and Zach probably could have made the trip in half the time if they’d both been healthy.

  When Nico didn’t respond, Zach glanced over at him in alarm. “Nico?”

  His eyes fluttered and slowly opened, then he immediately winced and closed them again. “Yeah?”

  “There are people in suits with guns on the road. Should I keep going?”

  “Um . . .” Nico shook his head slowly as if to clear it and opened his eyes again. It seemed to take him a moment to actually see the suited figures blocking the road ahead. Zach bit his tongue, holding in a concerned inquiry. The second night after Nico’s injury, Zach had thought Nico was on the mend, but he seemed to be alternatively improving, then backsliding. “Are we still in Kansas?”

  “No. We’ve been in Colorado all day. We’re close to Colorado Springs, now. I think these people may be military.”

  “We’re there?” Nico blew out a slow breath. “Guess we don’t have much choice but to talk to them, do we?”

  Zach sighed, giving the suited figures a dubious look. “I guess not.” He put the truck in motion again, approaching the roadblock at a crawl and stopping when he was close enough to hear the people in the suits shouting at them.

  “Stop the truck, and get out with your hands up! Leave any weapons in the vehicle! Do it now!”

  Exchanging wary glances, he and Nico did as they were bidden, leaving their guns behind as they carefully and slowly emerged from the truck.

  “Names?” A female voice demanded from one of the shorter-suited forms.

  “Zacharias Houtman”

  “Nicolás Fernández.”

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Zach let Nico speak for them. “We understand that this is where survivors are gathering, that people are getting shelter from the plague in the mountain complex.”

  “Who told you that?” The voice sounded suspicious and far from welcoming.

  Nico made an impatient sound. “Does it matter? Is it true or not?”

  “No one gets into Cheyenne Mountain except critical military and government personnel. You’ll be processed and assigned an isolation pen in the quarantine camps.”

  “Isolation pen?” Zach burst out. He stepped forward but quickly retreated as the guns swung toward him.

  The guard who appeared to be in charge turned her hooded head toward him. He couldn’t make out her features behind the coppery sheen of her mask. “Would you rather gamble on whether or not any of your neighbors have been exposed?” There was a definite note of you idiot tacked on the end, there.

  The tone apparently didn’t set well with Nico because he clenched his fists at his sides. “What the fuck is an isolation pen?”

  “You’ll be assigned to a tent in a fenced-off area, with enough space between you and your neighbors to avoid airborne contagion. You’ll be there for three months, long enough to be certain you haven’t been infected, then you’ll be processed for entry into the Clean Zone, assigned housing and work on the reconstruction, security, or agriculture and livestock crews.” She looked down at a data pad embedded in her sleeve. “Register Zachary Horton as detainee number thirty-seven hundred forty-six, and—”

  “Um, that’s Zacharias Houtman,” Zach corrected, but she wasn’t listening.

  “And Nicholas Hernandez as detainee number thirty-seven hundred forty-seven.”

  Nico, already gray skinned and unwell, seemed to go even paler. “Thirty-seven hundred? That’s all there is?”

  The cock of the guard’s shrouded head looked distinctly impatient. “Plus twelve hundred surviving military and government personnel, yes. Did you think you were taking a trip to Disney Universe? Everyone’s fucking dead, okay?”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Nico snarled, taking a stride forward. The guns swung in his direction now. But no sooner had they moved than Nico staggered, swaying dizzily. As quickly as they had turned their guns on him, the guards scrambled back as a single mob.

  “What’s wrong with him?” the leader demanded. “Has he been exposed?”

  “What? No!” Zach quickly put himself between Nico and the suited security forces. “He hit his head the other day. We were attacked by wild dogs in St. Louis. They knocked him down, and his head slammed on the ground.” He decided to leave out the addition of the revenant Nico had scuffled with. He didn’t think much of their chances of not being shot immediately if they admitted to having had contact with anyone who was infected. “He needs medical help.”

  He could feel the suspicion behind the masked faces, and he trembled as Nico moaned softly behind him.

  “It’s okay,” Nico said. Zach wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure the guards or Zach himself. “It’s just this fucking headache. I’ll be okay.”

  They didn’t lower their guns. Zach stared at them, overcome by the horrifying notion that they might just preemptively kill him and Nico and dump their bodies in some unmarked pit. They wouldn’t do that, right? These people in the suits, they were here to help the survivors and rebuild everything, not kill people out of hand.

  Weren’t they?

  Finally, the leader lowered her gun, and the others did the same. “Put them in Priority One containment. Have the medics add their pen to the rounds.”

  Zach shivered. He wished that decision sounded more reassuring than it had. “What does that mean?”

  She snorted behind her mask. “It means we’ll be keeping an eye on you. And if we have even the slightest reason to believe you’ve been infected, you’ll be euthanized. For the safety of the other survivors.”

  She walked away before he could protest, and one of the other guards gestured Zach into motion with his gun. “Sorry, man,” he muttered, and his voice was a little kinder and less rigid than hers. “I know it seems harsh, but you gotta understand. We don’t have a choice. If we let someone with the Rot through, everyone who’s left will die. Get it?”

  “We get it,” Nico answered for them, sounding subdued. He still looked like he might fall over, and Zach finally dared go to him, stationing himself by Nico’s side to catch him if he staggered again.

  “Great. We’ll give you a moment to grab some clothes.”

  Zach glanced at the car. “What about our truck and food supplies?”

  “Anything you bring with you to the Clean Zone gets added to the stores to be redistributed among the population,” another guard replied as they escorted Nico and Zach to the bed of the truck to watch them open it and dig out their duffel and rucksack. “The truck will be kept for use by emergency-response personnel.”

  “You can’t do that!” Zach protested.

  The guard who had spoken kindly shrugged and shook his hooded head. “Like I said, we don’t have a choice. We can’t let people starve while others who were fortunate enough to get their hands on a stockpile do just fine. And we’re having difficulty right now with transporting military and medical personnel between Cheyenne Mountain and the quarantine camps. That truck of yours might make all the difference when it comes to one of our medics making it on time to save someone having a dangerous birth or a kid with an appendix about to rupture.”

  “Let it go, Zach,” Nico muttered, leaning on him as they left the truck behind and shuffled along surrounded by guards. “We’ll be okay.”

  “No, we won’t. They can’t just steal our supplies. Your . . . metabolic problem—”

  Nico shook his head sharply. “Don’t.”

  “What metabolic problem?” The sympathetic guard looked back at them. “If you have distinct medical needs, those can be taken into account. We just need to have the medics examine you and document it.”

  “It’s not necessary,” Nico ground out. “I’m fine.”

  Zach swallowed and held his tongue, finally understanding the reason for Nico’s reticence. They could not tell the medics that Nico was infected with the Bane virus. Zach couldn’t say with any certainty that the Clean Zone
military forces wouldn’t just preemptively kill Nico.

  The sense of being in a horror vid grew as they watched their own truck drive past them, taking their guns, food, and spare fuel cells with it. Now they had literally nothing but the clothes they wore and their packs. A mile or so down the road, ten-foot-tall fences topped with razor wire began to line the sides of the highway. They stopped at three different gates, each one manned by armed and suited personnel who grilled the team accompanying Zach and Nico with what sounded like coded questions and answers.

  “Trying to make sure we didn’t kill the guards and take their suits, I guess?” Nico theorized, rubbing his forehead. His brow was furrowed with pain. “Not sure that would accomplish anything, except maybe giving us access to the underground complex inside the mountain.”

  “Where is the mountain?” Zach asked, looking around. They seemed to be smack in the middle of suburban hell. Beyond the fences were empty houses and apartment buildings, derelict strip malls and shopping centers.

  “Other side of the city, to the southwest, if I recall correctly.” Nico didn’t seem very concerned. “Makes sense they wouldn’t keep the refugee encampments too close to the place housing the government personnel and military forces.”

  At the final checkpoint, a repurposed, battery-powered trolley—the open-sided sort that might have once hauled loads of tourists around a zoo or amusement park—waited for them. Which was reassuring. They’d been walking for nearly two hours at that point from checkpoint to checkpoint, and there was still no sign of these quarantine “pens” the guards had spoken of. The transport carried them past another checkpoint to a field that looked like it might once have been a fairground or perhaps a small airport. Then Zach understood what the guards meant by “pens.”

  Each unit was roughly ten by ten yards, with another ten yards separating it from its neighbor. They were made up of chain-link fencing topped with razor wire, with only a single gate leading into each pen. Pipes carrying what Zach assumed to be water traveled from one pen to the other, and tracks in the reddish mud created rough roads, separating the pens into neat rows.

 

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