by Ruby Dixon
I pat Dakh’s claw, indicating he should put me down now that we’ve landed. He releases me, setting me down gently on the asphalt, and watches, waiting to see what I do. Am I in charge? This feels kind of…backwards. But if that’s the case, I’m going to roll with it because I’m dying to see what’s inside that store. The possibilities have me ridiculously excited, though I’m guessing I’ll have to limit what we take with us since I have no idea where we’re heading next. I smile hesitantly at Dakh and don’t even mind when his big nose pushes against my hair in dragonish affection.
I approach the entrance of the SuperMart, and I’m a little dismayed to see that the sliding glass doors are cracked open about two feet. It’s dark inside, so I can’t tell if everything is messed up, but that’s not a good sign. “Looks like someone’s been here before us. I guess it’s not surprising, but I’m still a little disappointed.” I sigh and glance up at Dakh. “Let’s go in anyhow.”
At my side, Dakh sniffs, running his nose along the edge of the metal-and-glass doors. His nostrils twitch and flare, as if he smells something bad, and then he shoves his snout into the crack, trying to wedge the doors farther apart.
“Hey, hey,” I protest, putting a hand on his head. “You’re not going to be able to go in dragon-sized. You need to change to human-size.” I tug at him, then pull on one of his horns. “Change already.”
He pulls back and glances down at me, eyes whirling with gold.
“Change,” I instruct again, though I know he doesn’t understand the words. “Give me Dakh.” I gesture to indicate someone a bit taller than me. “Dakh.”
A flick of an eyelash later and the human-looking Dakh is suddenly standing before me.
I smile encouragingly. “That’s better. Shall we go inside?” I take his big hand in mine and start to go forward.
He growls low in his throat.
I freeze in place, my body going cold. Have I offended him somehow? “What did I do?”
Dakh moves forward, pushing ahead of me, and then steps between the crack in the glass doors. He walks in another step or two, scenting the air, and then turns back to me and holds his hand out.
Oh. I guess this is him checking the area out to make it safe for me. I feel a little silly now. “You’re kind of a chest-beating alpha male, aren’t you? All right, you can lead as long as I get to shop as much as I want.” I put my hand in his and step through myself.
Immediately, there’s a weird smell to the place. I wrinkle my nose and try to rub it before I remember that I shouldn’t use my bad arm. “What’s that stink? A skunk, maybe?”
Dakh leads me forward…and I realize it’s not all that dark in here. Most of the big fluorescent lights are out, but there are a few scattered in the ceiling that are on. Emergency lights, I think. That’s a relief. I can’t imagine what we’d miss out on if we were stumbling around in the dark.
Because ahead of me? It’s a scavenging wonderland.
I don’t care that the store itself is stinky, or everything’s covered with a layer of dust. Beyond the tangled scatter of metal shopping carts barricading the front entrance, there are cash registers. And beyond the cash registers are racks and racks of clothing. Beyond them will be housewares, and sporting goods, and everything else I can possibly imagine.
“This is just like Christmas,” I whisper to Dakh, and then give an excited little squeal.
His hand tightens on mine, and a draconic grin flashes across his broad features, and I feel a little quiver of happiness in my belly for the first time in what feels like…forever.
It almost feels wrong. I’m the captive of a dragon, I’ve just been snatched away from everything and everyone I know, and yet the sight of a SuperMart fills me with so much joy? I can feel my happiness fading and being replaced with shame. Shame that I should be so superficial as to be excited by stuff.
Dakh regards me with a solemn expression and then touches my cheek. He pushes a knuckle against the corner of my mouth and tries to raise it to force a grin.
He wants to see me smile again.
For some reason, that brings all of my happiness back, and I grin. “All right. I’ll take things one day at a time, then. For now, shopping.”
It takes a few minutes to push aside the tangle of carts to get to the other side, and when we do, I pull one out and try to right it. Of course, Dakh takes it from me, and then it’s another few minutes as I try to explain to him that no, the cart really does belong on its wheels and it’s supposed to roll. He’s mystified by the buggy and spends a few moments rolling it back and forth, an intense frown on his face. I want to snatch it from him and get going, but I force myself to be patient.
This store isn’t going anywhere. It’s been seven years since the Rift, and if this stuff has lasted this long, it’ll last one more day.
When he’s satisfied his curiosity with the cart, he turns to me. I do my best not to snatch it from his arms and push it forward. “Follow me. We’re going on a shopping spree, you and I.”
8
SASHA
The next hour is sheer bliss. I’d forgotten the joy of new clothing. In front of me, there’s an absolute wonderland of brand new clothes. Well, okay, not all of them are new. Some of them look like they’re rotting on the hangers, but polyester blends look as fresh as they did seven years ago. There are racks and racks of sundresses and T-shirts and jeans, and I want to grab them all and squeal with excitement. Living in Fort Dallas, where I have to sell myself for a bite to eat, there’s no money for new clothing. Even if there was, there’s not much clothing to go around. No one remembers how to make cloth, so a lot of the clothes people wear are scavenged or are weird, knitted monstrosities. I hold a baby-blue sundress up to my chest, sighing with pleasure. The Rift happened in the summer, and all these clothes are the wrong season. There are racks and racks of swimsuits and cover-ups, and pretty soon it’s going to be too cold for me to make use of these. Reluctantly, I put the sundress back and pick up a pair of jeans. I need to be practical.
Dakh growls low in his throat, and I turn.
He’s got the blue sundress in one clawed fist and holds it out to me.
“It’s not practical,” I tell him with a little sad smile. “I love it, but I don’t know how much we’re going to take with us, and I need to think about stuff like medicine and panties and—”
He shakes the dress at me again, a frown on his face, as if it’s important to him that I take it.
Shy, I nod and slip it off the hanger. I’m going to wear it today. Right now. I pull the material over my head and let it slither down my body, and I’m surprised at how loose it is. Even with my patchwork clothing on underneath, it’s like I’m wearing a potato sack. I slip the straps off, and the entire thing falls to the ground, so I scoop it up and check the size. It’s my old size…from Before.
I guess I’ve lost some weight.
I touch my face, wondering what I look like. It’s suddenly important to me, and I shove a few more of the blue dresses into the shopping cart, toss in my jeans, and then wheel the buggy forward, looking for a fitting room. There should be one close by. I turn the cart, and then…I see it.
A mirror.
And my reflection.
I suck in a breath at the sight of myself. I don’t recognize the girl in the mirror. She looks…ghastly. I touch my cheek, and it looks like a stranger is doing it. “Back before the Rift,” I tell Dakh, “I think I was pretty. It’s so hard to tell now.” I stare at my overgrown eyebrows, at my frizzy, unkempt hair that hasn’t been trimmed or styled or, heck, brushed in forever. It frames a face that’s dirty and angular, with hollow dark eyes and a smattering of bruises. I tug down the collar of my T-shirt and wince at the sight of how visible my collarbones are. I can practically see my ribcage, and when did my tits get so flat? Jesus. “That’s what happens when you go from eating three solid a day to, well, one or two.” And to think I feel lucky when I get those one or two. I noticed that Amy and Claudia had been looking thi
nner and more ragged over time, but for some reason, in my head, I was still robust, smiling Sasha Kennedy, not the scrappy, wiry survivor in the mirror. That Sasha was always looking to lose five or ten pounds.
“Funny how perspective works,” I mutter to myself, stroking my jutting collarbones. I could use those five or ten pounds right about now.
Dakh moves to my side and pushes my hand away, peering at my neck. He gives me a look of concern. “Ow?”
“Oh, I’m not wounded,” I tell him, gesturing at the mirror. “I was just looking at my reflection.”
He turns and sees the mirror—and jumps backward. There’s a crash, and racks of clothing go flying backward as he turns dragon, and even though I’m in danger of being crushed by a claw, I can’t help but giggle at his reaction.
His eyes flare black, and then suddenly it’s not so funny anymore.
“Dakh,” I murmur in my sweetest voice. I wave a hand at him, indicating he should come down and join me again. “It’s okay. I promise. Look. It’s a mirror.” I put my hand on the glass and tap it. “See? Sasha, Sasha.” I point at myself and then at the mirror. “It’s just a reflection. It moves when I do. It’s not a real person.”
The dragon’s great head moves in, and his big eye blinks at me, going from black to gold and then remaining gold. I breathe a sigh of relief at that. He peers at me, then at the mirror, and his nostrils press against the glass. It steams up, and he snorts. A moment later, he’s in human form again, pressing his hand to the mirror surface. “Dakh,” he announces after a moment, then points at me in the mirror. “Sa-cha?”
“That’s right. We’re just reflections.” I wave a hand at him. “See? It’s just showing an image of what is there.”
Poor Dakh’s clearly never seen a mirror before, because he has to inspect it, using his claws to pry it off the wall and check the back, and then checks the fitting rooms behind it to make sure that there’s no one hiding. The concept baffles him, and he pokes it again while I pick through the handful of dresses and find one in a much smaller size and slide it over my head. It fits, and I tug my worn, filthy clothing off underneath and let them fall to the ground.
It feels wasteful to discard my old clothes, because even though they’re trashed, they’d still bring in decent money back in Fort Dallas, when any scrap of clothing is used and re-used forever. But I’m surrounded by unspeakable riches right now. If I need jeans, I’ve got thirty pairs waiting on the next table. Seems silly to hold on to filthy ones that are held together by knots, thanks to Dakh’s claws shredding them beyond belief.
“Sa-cha,” Dakh says, abandoning the mirror to come and stand next to me. His gaze moves over me, and there’s a possessive, pleased look in his eyes that gives me a little flutter of pleasure, too. Maybe I don’t look so bad in this dress after all.
Of course, when did I start caring what my dragon captor thinks?
The moment he transformed to human and started becoming a person in my eyes, I suppose. He’s not just my captor—he has his reasons, and he wants to keep me safe. And really, that’s more than anyone in Fort Dallas has ever done.
Well, anyone that’s left in Fort Dallas, that is. Claudia, Amy and I always looked out for each other, but I don’t even know if they’re alive anymore.
I’ll take today as it comes, then. I grab a handful of the dress and give a little twirl. “You like?”
The rumble in his chest sounds like approval. I beam at him and glance at the mirror that’s now leaning against the wall—and eep! I get an eyeful of the dragon-man junk I’ve been trying so hard not to look at.
And okay, I can’t help but sneak a little peek. He’s completely hairless, the scale-like pattern on his skin seemingly tighter in that area, with a deeper golden color. His cock is…well, it’s a lot bigger than any human guy I’ve ever seen, and the entire thing looks disproportionate to my lady bits. I clamp my thighs tighter together in worry, because he’s also erect. “You know what, Dakh? I think we should shop for you, too.”
We head over to the lingerie department, and I grab a bra and panties, tossing them in the cart as we head to the men’s section. If I get a chance, I’ll come back and get more, but for now, it seems imperative to get Dakh clothed so I don’t have to worry about looking at his, ahem, bits when I need to focus.
Because his bits are rather big and very, very distracting. Even for someone like me, who doesn’t like sex.
“Here you go,” I say, racing the cart over to an endcap of underwear. I pull a package off the shelf and hold it out to Dakh. “Underpants. For you.”
He takes the package, studies it, then holds it up to his nose and sniffs it.
“No, it’s for wearing. Look at the picture.” I point at the faded cardboard ad on the front, of a chiseled model in underwear. It’s kind of staggering to see that Dakh’s way better built than this guy, and the dragon-man’s abs put this guy’s to shame. Huh.
Dakh studies it, and his brows come together. He gives it a fierce frown and points at the picture. “Dakh?”
“Yes. Dakh can wear underwear like that.” I give him an encouraging nod. “You don’t have to be naked.” He doesn’t seem to be in any particular hurry to try them on, so I pluck the package from his hand and rip it open. The aged plastic tears easily, and I shake a pair out then hand them to him. “Here you go.”
He takes it from me and eyes it with obvious skepticism. He plays with the elastic, stretching the waistband, and then it flies from his hands, zooming down the aisle. Dakh gives a snort of amusement.
“Here, take another pair.” I push them into his hands. “Just put them on, okay?” I point at the picture. “Like this, Dakh. Legs go in the holes.”
He regards the picture again, then glances over at me. “Dakh?” he asks, pointing at the man’s briefs.
“Yup. You wear them just like that.”
He tilts his head and then bends over and grabs the hem of my skirt, hauling it up.
I give a little scream, snatching it out of his hands. I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s checking to see if I’m wearing panties. “Oh no you don’t! I’m going to wear some, too, once I get a chance.” I wag a finger at him. “Just humor me, okay?”
He rumbles in his chest again, but this time it sounds rather grumpy. He studies the leg holes and tries to figure it out, studying the picture. While he’s focused, I rip open my own pair of panties and slide on a pair of cotton briefs under my long dress. Too loose again, but I’m thrilled to have fresh undergarments. It’s been years since I’ve had some. They’re definitely a luxury in the After. I study the bra I grabbed and then decide it’s probably too big and move over an aisle or two while Dakh has one leg—or both—in his underwear. I find a new bra—a pretty, lacy thing with pink satin panels and a delicate little bow that makes me feel happy and girly—and slide it on before I return to Dakh’s side a moment later.
The dragon-man’s figured out the briefs—finally—but he looks rather unhappy. He cups his dick, adjusting it, and shifts his weight back and forth on his legs, displeased.
“They don’t look too tight,” I tell him, amused. “Don’t be a baby. And you look good.” Though I have to admit that the sight of him in that underwear makes everything seem a little more pronounced. Heck, the guy on the package didn’t make them look half as mouthwatering as a dragon-man does. “If everything ever turns right side up again, you should look into underwear modeling. Not that there’s much of a chance of that happening.”
He still doesn’t look pleased but follows me when I turn the cart away, walking bow-legged. I’m really trying hard not to laugh.
I turn the cart down another aisle and see another endcap with a lonely can sitting on the end. A food can. A delighted little squeal escapes my throat, and I race forward, cart rattling, and stop to snatch the can. Pinto beans. Oh my god, I love beans. I grab the can of beans and blow the dust off, delighted. The expiration date is four years past, but I’m not picky. I hug the can close. I’m going
to open it up and eat it. Even if it’s covered in mold, I’ll still take a chance. Food is food, and you learn not to care how awful or expired the food is when it’s the difference between starving and eating. “I love this place,” I tell Dakh wistfully. “I want to stay here forever.”
It’s paradise.
“Sa-cha?” Dakh comes to my side, eyeing the can.
“This is food, Dakh,” I tell him excitedly. I hold up the can and then make a miming gesture. “Food! We can eat this for dinner tonight.”
He takes the can from my hands, sniffs it, and then lightly flicks his tongue against it and gives me an odd look.
“No, no,” I giggle. “There’s food inside. We have to open it.” All of my gestures to explain that don’t seem to work all that well, though, because he just looks even more confused. “We need more like this! We have to find more.” I gesture at the can again. “More like this. Help me find them.” I circle the endcap, looking for more cans. Clothing suddenly seems less important if there’s food around. Because clothes are one thing, but food is vital.
Dakh starts to look around, too, and then races away a few feet. He returns a moment later, brandishing a can with a look of pleasure on his face.
I take it from him, delighted—only to see the picture of a German shepherd staring back at me. Yick. Dog food. But Dakh looks so happy to give me the gift that I suspect we’ll be having dog food with dinner tonight. “Thank you, Dakh. This is great.” I add the cans to my cart. “Let’s see what else we can find!”
As we head down one of the big main aisles, it’s clear that someone’s been through here before us. It’s not surprising, considering things. Most of the food endcaps are pretty picked over, or they’ve rotted away into inedible messes. A few boxes of cookies look like rats have gotten to them, because there are shreds all over the floor and counter, and not much else.
