by Eve Langlais
Beth’s foul language sounded so crude, and Hannah winced. She might be used to her sister’s temper, but she’d never seen her lose it like this.
“I’m sorry, Beth. I promise, we’re going to take a road trip as soon as we can find a way for all of us to-”
“Like I’ll believe you. You and this stupid house and town. We should have left as soon as we realized everyone was dead. But no, Hannah’s afraid of the big wide world.” Beth’s tone and words mocked her. Hannah cringed at the pent-up bitterness her sister spewed. “Let’s hide here in the house we grew up in because god fucking forbid you should leave your safety blanket.”
Hannah couldn’t help herself. She flinched. I am not afraid to leave. I happen to like it here. Why is it I’m the only one who does? “I’m sorry you feel that way. I promise we’ll find somewhere with people for you. I want you to be happy, Beth.” Hannah’s voice broke.
“Don’t bother. I don’t want your help.” Beth pushed past Hannah, almost running into Fred in his wheelchair.
“Whoa girl, where you going so fast?” asked their uncle.
“Nowhere apparently,” Beth said bitterly before disappearing from sight.
Fred turned to look at Hannah with his brows raised. “What the heck was that about?”
“Beth found out Brody and I are involved and freaked. I don’t blame her.” She ducked her head in sorrow, waiting for Fred’s rebuke.
“About time you and Brody patched things up. As for Beth, she’ll get over it. You always did coddle her too much. You’ve done the best you could, Hannah girl, and don’t you forget it.”
“She just wants someone to love. I can’t blame her. And I want to give her what she wants. She’s right. I am chicken to leave home. I don’t know anything else.”
Fred snorted. “Beth’s just impatient. She doesn’t understand that some things have to be taken slowly. The girl is young yet. A few more weeks or months ain’t gonna kill her. Don’t you let what she says bother you none. There’s nothing wrong with loving one’s home. Don’t forget, just because we go on a trip or even if we find somewhere that’s better for us, doesn’t mean we can’t come back.”
Hannah smiled at her uncle. He always had the right words. “Yeah, I know. I love you, Uncle Fred.”
“I love you too. Now stop this pity business and hold yourself straight. Beth will get over it.”
I sure hope so. I’ve never seen her this mad.
But Beth didn’t get over it. She acted impulsively as usual, something Hannah only realized when they couldn’t find Beth the next morning and discovered Brody’s bike missing.
Chapter Eight
“Calm down, kitten. I’ll find her.” Brody lied, not knowing what else to say with Hannah so crazed with worry over her sister’s disappearance.
“How?” wailed Hannah. “She could be anywhere. What if she’s hurt? Oh god. This is all my fault.” She collapsed on the couch, her face buried in her hands while her shoulders shook.
Brody wanted to shake Beth ‘til her teeth rattled for doing this to her sister. Ungrateful, little brat. “I am pretty sure she’ll have headed to that Amish settlement. I’ll hunt around for another bike and go looking for her. I’ll bring her back, I promise.”
Brody rode Hannah’s pedal bike into town, glad no one could see him on the pink bike. He had a vague idea about who might own a motorcycle and headed straight for Joe Franton’s home with its large two-car garage. Brody remembered Joe had talked about getting himself a Harley.
Bingo!
Opening the garage door with a noisy creak, Brody sent up a quick amen. Covered by a tarp, he found a motorcycle and not just any bike: a Harley Ultra Classic. He ran his hand over the fat tank and shook his head at the oversized seat for the driver and the just as comfortable one for a passenger replete with arm and backrests.
Brody couldn’t help grinning. While he loved his Harley Sportster, the Ultra Classic was a motorcycle made for two, and he knew who he’d like sitting behind him.
Grabbing a gas jug, he jogged down the road to the gas station only to find the pumps dry. But he had learned a trick or two on his cross-country trip, and he quickly found a length of hose he used to siphon the derelict cars that littered the town. Pouring the gas into the tank, Brody then faced a new dilemma.
Keys?
Bracing himself, he entered the tomblike home, dust motes floating in the air. Luck on his side, Brody found the bike keys on a peg board along with others. On the way out, he noticed a framed image of Joe, straddling the very same motorcycle in his garage, a big grin on his face. He felt a moment’s pang for Joe who hadn’t gotten to enjoy much of a retirement.
So many people had found their lives cut short and even now the world was not a safe place, something he should have stressed more to Beth. But, given her headstrong, spoiled nature, he doubted it would have had an impact.
The bike of course didn’t start when he turned the key, the battery long dead. Wheeling it out into the sunshine, Brody rolled it a few blocks to the one incline in town. He pedaled the ground with his feet, Flintstone style. When the bike gained some forward momentum, he pulled in the clutch and popped it into second.
With a coughing stutter, the engine roared to life, and Brody cranked the throttle, clearing dust from its workings. The growling sound of the bike brought Hannah running out of the house, and Brody’s groin tightened looking at her. He loved her so much even with her tear-streaked face.
“I’ve packed some food and clothes,” she said gesturing to some bundles behind her.
“You should go with him,” said Fred wheeling out onto the porch.
“What?” Hannah’s face creased in puzzlement. “I can’t. I’ve got to stay with you.”
“Oh for Christ sake girl, I been taking care of myself a lot longer than you’ve been born. Go with him. Find your fool sister and that Amish village. I can take care of myself for a week or so. Besides, if you stay here, you’ll just drive me nuts.”
“Are you sure?”
Brody could see Hannah’s need to care for her uncle warring with that of seeing her sister safe.
Fred snorted and when she flew into his arms hugging the old man’s frail body, Brody felt a lump. He sure as hell hoped they all came back. Fred would be all right for a few weeks on his own but, with winter approaching, they needed to get back before the snow made roads impassable.
“Let me just pack a few things.” Hannah bustled into the house.
Brody looked at Fred. “Are you sure, Fred?”
“Hannah needs to see the world outside of this town. This Amish village might be what she needs, what we all need. If things look good, then come back and get me. Beth is right about one thing, this town is dead. If we’re going to rebuild, we need to be around people.”
“We’ll be back,” Brody promised.
“Of course you will, son,” said the old man. “You got protection I assume?”
For a second Brody misunderstood and blushed thinking Fred was asking if he had condoms-an item that also had expiration dates, not that he wanted to use any. He’d love to see Hannah pregnant with his babe. But Fred meant another kind of protection. Brody opened the mini pouch strapped over the tank and pulled out the revolver he’d stashed in there, a more comfortable spot than shoved down the backside of his jeans. “Never leave home without one.” He also had another gun stowed in the saddlebags as a backup, although he fervently hoped they didn’t run into anything that caused them to need the protection of a gun.
Hannah came back out of the house, a knapsack dangling from her hand. Kissing her uncle and admonishing him not to overdo it, she approached Brody and held out her bag, which he stowed in the large, rigid side compartments.
Straddling the bike, he looked at her and waited as she gnawed her lip. With a creased face, she looked at her uncle and the only home she’d ever known.
“I’ll bring you back, I swear,” said Brody.
Taking a deep breath, she clambered beh
ind him on the passenger pillion and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Let’s go find my sister,” she said bravely, but Brody could hear the worry and fear underlying her words.
With a roar, he sped off on the bike without looking back, unable to shake the feeling that nothing would be the same again.
* * * * *
Hannah clung to Brody as he drove down the debris strewn road. Beth had hours on them and Hannah, looking around at the streaming landscape, really had to wonder if they’d be able to find her. This could be worse than searching for a needle in a haystack.
Brody hadn’t been joking when he’d said the roads weren’t car friendly. He spent a lot of time slowing down to detour and weave around vehicles abandoned on the road, some of which still had the remains of occupants.
Closing her eyes, Hannah leaned her head on Brody’s strong back. A sense of loss consumed her. Why does it feel like I’ll never come home again? Which was absurd. Even if by some miracle she decided to live elsewhere, she’d be coming back to pack up Uncle Fred and the house.
It didn’t matter what her head said though, her heart remained steadfast in its belief. Hannah tried thinking of Beth instead, a subject that worried her even more than coming home. Is she okay? What if she gets lost? Or runs into a psycho? Will I ever see her again? Oh please don’t let our last words to each other be angry ones.
A few hours from home, they entered the first decent sized city on their route. Brody took them to the center of the city, a thing of dead neon signs, some of which hung drunkenly. Slowing he stopped the bike by a gas station that looked like a derelict parking lot.
“Let’s stretch our legs for a few minutes and eat something,” he said, getting off the bike and stretching his body.
Hannah followed suit, her cramped muscles protesting as she unfolded herself from the hunch she’d adopted on the bike. She stared in morbid fascination at the buildings around her. It had been one thing to see her small town deserted with only the tumbleweed missing to mark it as a ghost town, but quite another to have towering skyscrapers and surprisingly intact storefronts lining the too quiet street.
Hannah did a three sixty, taking it all in. Nothing moved, a fact eerily compounded by the mournful whistle of a light breeze through the buildings.
“It’s like a tomb,” she whispered, afraid to raise her voice for surely ghosts hid in this haunted place. She almost expected the undead to come shambling out of this oversized tomb, their arms outstretched, moaning “Brains.” Hannah shuddered.
“All the cities are like this,” Brody said, barely sparing a glance to the surroundings, his nonchalance comforting her somewhat. “At least the smell is gone. At first you couldn’t come near the major centers for the stench and flies. I’ve heard a few survivors say that the buzzing of their wings was what almost put them over the edge.” His words gave her goose bumps, and she rubbed her arms. She still remembered the smell and sound of death.
“So nobody lives here?”
“Would you?” he said finally looking at her, his shadowed eyes belaying his aloof words. “I’ve yet to meet anyone who elected to stay in the cities. Those that survived have moved outside into the farming areas where they can live off the land. They still send out gathering parties looking for goods: clothing, canned food, weapons, and other items we can no longer make ourselves. Stockpiling them before nature claims these places back.”
At his words she noticed the grass trying to creep through the cracks in the pavement. Straggly vegetation doing battle with a concrete jungle. Like humans, it was determined to survive.
“Oh Brody.” Hannah’s eye flooded with tears. She’d spent the past year being strong, never stepping out of her secular world. And now that she had, she realized just how bad things were. The bubble she’d inhabited for so long suddenly burst and sorrow overwhelmed her.
Sinewy arms wrapped around her and held her tight. Brody rocked her in his embrace, rubbing his cheek over the top of her head and supporting her as she sobbed.
She didn’t know how long they stood there while she cried for everyone who had died. While she cried for the dreams that were lost. She also cried knowing her sister, the little girl she’d helped raise, was alone in this terribly dead world. And finally she cried because she realized Brody was her last chance at having love and a family. If he left, there was nothing and nobody to fall back on. She’d truly be alone.
Eventually her tears subsided to hiccups and, moving out of Brody’s embrace, she scrubbed at her red eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice and eyes laced with concern.
Hannah nodded, not trusting herself to speak without breaking into sobs again.
“It’s getting late. Do you want to find a place to camp here for the night or do you prefer to get out of here?”
Hannah answered that instantly. “Anywhere but here please.” She didn’t want to sleep surrounded by this monument to humanities follies and death.
With a nod, Brody got on the bike. Hannah took a step toward him and stopped dead, suddenly struck by the image. Like some kind of apocalypse cowboy, he straddled his steel horse with his weathered leather jacket, snug jeans, and windblown hair. The only thing missing was a wide brimmed hat. His gaze held hers, and she could see the love shining in his eyes. She almost cried again.
Oh I love you, Brody.
They left the oversized graveyard, the miles flying by but never far enough to make her forget.
Twilight arrived early this time of the year, and Hannah clutched Brody tightly as the diminishing light made the drive even more treacherous. Finally, he pulled into a roadside motel and stopped the bike.
“Stay here for a second.” With long strides, he went into the motel office and came back out moments later dangling several sets of keys. Trying the doors of units with no cars parked out front, he went into two and exited, before entering a third and signaling her.
“Why don’t you go in the bathroom and see if there’s any water still running. I’ll bring some food and stuff in.”
Too exhausted to argue and with a sore ass, she went into the motel room and found it dusty but intact. Wandering into the bathroom, she turned on the tap and, after sputtering brown for a few minutes, the water ran clear if cold. Using the washcloth she found on the shelf above the toilet, she cleaned herself up, the abrasive, wet cloth making her feel alive again.
When she came back out, she found Brody stripping the top cover off the bed.
“What are you doing with the sheets?”
“I’m going to shake it out so we’re not hacking on dust all night.”
Ever thoughtful. How could she not love him? Hannah opened the pack he’d brought in and pulled out food, a meal he supplemented by raiding the vending machine in the office.
They ate in silence and almost darkness. When finished, as if by mutual accord, they stood and fell into each other’s arms.
Hannah needed to feel him. Taste him. With frantic fingers, she attacked his clothes and in moments they both dove on the bed naked. His heavy body covered hers, the hot, hard length of his cock, nudging her sex.
She threaded her fingers in his hair, holding him close to kiss. Her tongue curled and danced around his.
She broke off the kiss and panted, “Lie on your back.”
Brody obeyed. Hannah knelt between his legs, the darkness forcing her to feel her way around his body. He gasped as her hands skimmed his thighs and cupped his heavy sack. Having discovered her goal, she leaned forward and found his shaft with her mouth, the tip moist. She licked it, tasting the saltiness of his excitement. Laving his cock with her tongue, she explored all of him before she took him into her mouth to suck him. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him. His head would alternate between going back with his eyes shut and facial muscles taut, to looking down at her with a smoky gaze that promised reciprocation.
Hannah shuddered, her pussy damp with the thought of what he liked to do to her with
his tongue, that weapon of mass orgasm. She bobbed up and down on his hard length while her hand fondled his balls, squeezing and kneading them ‘til they grew tight.
He groaned. “Kitten, I’m gonna lose it.”
With a final suck, she let go of his cock and by feel again moved herself in position to straddle him. His hands helped guide her and when she felt his swollen head poking at her nether lips, she sat down.
Impaled on his thick length, she finally gasped and threw her head back, not moving for a second, just enjoying the feel of him inside her. Leaning forward to brace her hands on his chest, she rocked, each motion sending a jolt of pleasure through her, bringing her closer and closer to ecstasy.
But Brody had no intention of letting her cum that quickly.
Before she knew it, Hannah found herself flat on her back with the cock in her cunt replaced by his tongue. His hands holding her thighs wide, he licked her, spreading her wet folds and lapping at her core. Finding her clit, he flicked it with his tongue and sucked it, driving Hannah wild. Arching on the bed, she clawed at the sheets.
Incoherent at the torture he inflicted, all she could manage to say was “Oh” as he brought her to the brink and then stopped ‘til she calmed enough so he could start again with his torturous tongue.
When Hannah thought she would die, he finally slid into her. The fullness of his throbbing cock inside of her, she came with a loud scream. Her pussy trembled around him as he drove himself in and out, each thrust hitting her G-spot inside and making her orgasm go on and on. Hannah moaned, her body boneless and shuddering under him. And still he fucked her, driving his penis into her over and over ‘til finally he went rigid and shouted her name, his cock spurting hotly inside of her.
Collapsing on her, they clutched each other tightly, overwhelmed.
“I love you,” Hannah said, suddenly deciding it was stupid to deny it.
“And I never stopped loving you,” he said, softly rolling to his side and snuggling her into the crook of his arm.
