Barrel of Monkeys [Drunk Monkeys 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Tymber Dalton

  The Legacy Program would be one of his crowning achievements. Storing enough of his sperm to impregnate thousands of believers meant generations of his progeny would remember his name.

  Take that, Methuselah.

  He smiled at his reflection. He normally didn’t have to masturbate since he used Mary to slake his carnal needs every day. If he was out of town, or if it was late and he didn’t want the night nurse to spot him going into Mary’s room, sure. Just for the sake of masturbation, however, not so much. He had important things to do.

  But the thought of countless women, their bellies fat with his children, was all he needed to prime his pump, so to speak. Every morning, in less than half an hour, he’d been able to make two deposits. Then again in the afternoons after lunch, another two. And still he had enough lead left in his pencil to make sure he could dump a load into Mary every night.

  Not bad at all for a man my age.

  He would continue to do it periodically over the next several weeks and months, each clinic at each church stronghold equipped with the facilities to properly prepare and store the precious samples he was depositing.

  But first… Ah, first he would make sure each of his new brides was pregnant with his child. They rightfully should have first crack at bearing his children, after all. Only then would he open the program to volunteers.

  Just the thought of that was enough to bring his morning chub up to nearly full wood again.

  Down, boy. He’d be making another deposit this morning, and this afternoon. The last two he’d make for a while. He didn’t want to spread himself too thin, too quickly. There would be plenty of time for that later.

  He grinned. He could only imagine what a daily schedule for his life might be in the future. Awaking in whichever church compound he was in and fuck that wife. Breakfast, work, making a sperm deposit for that compound’s Legacy Program, lunch, more work, another deposit, dinner…

  A soft sigh escaped him. Followed by a very gentle discipline session with his young wife, enough to make sure she knew her place, followed by tender lovemaking.

  Those wives would all know his love and affection.

  Unlike the whore he married.

  Just like she would never bear his children, not good enough to carry his seed.

  Maybe I should keep Mary alive for a while. Videotape my new wives all nursing their babies. My babies. Play it for her while I’m fucking her, make her watch.

  The giggle burped free. And now his cock was fully hard, almost painfully so.

  Closing his eyes, he slowly breathed for a few minutes and thought about the video and audio messages he had to film that day, the proper expressions he had to display around Mary’s nurse and the housekeeper, the facade he carefully maintained around everyone else.

  Eventually, the throbbing in his cock subsided as his erection started to wilt.

  He adjusted himself to put his cock back into place, donned his suit jacket, took one last look in the mirror to make sure he was squared away, and headed out to the kitchen. With Los Angeles in ruins, he had quite a few messages he needed to tape and distribute to their usual outlets. This was a prime opportunity he did not want to miss.

  Capitalize on an apocalypse?

  Why, yes, please, and thank you.

  Why wouldn’t he? It was his line of work, after all.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Now what the fark we do?” Echo muttered. They were sitting, cuffed, in the back of a marked LASD SUV, apparently on their way back to the station.

  “Shut up and let me think.” It was bad enough Sparky got killed while he was their responsibility. Omega had ordered Foxtrot and Kilo back to base when he realized there was no way the numbers would shake in their favor. Better they got away and returned in a few hours with an extraction team.

  Their best shot at survival lay in surrendering for now to the deputy and her National Guard backups, or risk getting executed like the assholes who’d jumped them.

  At least with the deputy, based on what she’d said, they might have a chance to talk their way out of things and be released. She knew they weren’t part of the gang of thugs, but she was either shooting or arresting everyone in an attempt to stop the mob violence.

  Brilliant strategy, quite frankly. With the area under martial law, she wouldn’t have to worry about paperwork later. He wondered if she was former military. He doubted a civvie would resort to that brutally efficient strategy.

  Despite their situation, he felt more than a little respect for her. She couldn’t be any taller than five three, if that. He suspected her bulky torso was due to a bulletproof vest worn under her shirt. Despite her stature, she obviously had a firm command of the people serving under her.

  Focus.

  This was not the time to get distracted and let his thoughts drift. All their shit was in one of the other vehicles they were currently caravanning with. They couldn’t get out of there without their weapons, at least.

  And he hoped they could be released without being fingerprinted. Yes, they’d taken out the other mole under General Arliss.

  The mole they knew about.

  Who knew how many other moles might be out there in the military? Maybe even in Arliss’ food chain. And if their fingerprints were run and someone outside of Gen. Arliss’ sphere of influence was looking for them, too, it could bring a whole ’nother level of hell raining down upon them.

  There were two male deputies in the front. The one driving said, “I hope this doesn’t take long. I want to get home, pack, and leave tonight. I like Gia, but fuck this noise. That Guard kid we lost was the last chance we had for blowing that road and keeping what’s left of LA out of our backyards.”

  Omega glanced at Echo and registered his partner’s sudden interest in the deputies’ conversation, too.

  “We can’t just abandon her,” the other deputy said.

  “You know anything about laying explosives?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “She said it herself she knew we only had a couple of days at the most. And that was with blowing the road. I’m married. You’re single. You stay if you want to, but I’m heading out.”

  “You gotta at least tell her.”

  “I will. I’ll be honest with her. But this is my last shift.”

  Yes, the basin was farked. Everyone knew it. Because public transportation wasn’t running, and a lot of people didn’t have vehicles, it had kept the larger evacuation flowing east and north, the direction the National Guard and other authorities had wanted it. Only people already living in the northern part of the basin seemed to be heading north, or west.

  They’d seen very little traffic heading from their current hideout in Altadena to Santa Clarita. What they had seen were vehicles filled to overflowing with people and possessions as residents left with whatever they could carry.

  But blowing the 5 south of the split, yeah, that would keep people from streaming through Santa Clarita. Especially if you gave them the easier option of taking the road south to 118 and going west from there.

  She’s fucking brilliant.

  At the very least, before they got out of there, he wanted to know her name and shake her hand. She’d damn sure earned his respect. Ruthless efficiency he admired.

  Santa Clarita looked relatively untouched by the quake. Its inherent devastation lay in economic and medical and other environmental disasters over the past hundred years. Once a thriving bedroom community to Los Angeles, the city was a hodgepodge of burned-out homes as a result of past wildfires, newer apartment complexes built squarely on top of the remains of single-family neighborhoods, and graffiti-riddled retaining walls marked by gangs both new and so old they likely didn’t even exist any longer amongst the grandchildren of the original members.

  It depressed the hell out of Omega. He had been through here years ago, but he didn’t remember it looking quite this run-down.

  When they finally arrived at the sheriff’s station, the SUV was driven straight int
o a garage, bypassing their normal intake parking bay if the signs were to be believed.

  An SUV with the other three prisoners also drove into the garage, followed by several other vehicles, including a National Guard truck.

  “Fuck,” Echo whispered, nodding to where two other guardsmen were guarding a DOT van. “I thought the others were young, but they’re farking kids.”

  “So were we when we joined.”

  “Yeah…but they’re kids.”

  Omega didn’t bother replying. He didn’t have a good reply anyway. Yes, they were kids. Kids who, if they survived this mess, likely would be shipped out somewhere they’d get their asses shot at. If they were tough enough, and more than lucky enough, they might make it back home in one piece.

  When the deputies opened the back doors, Omega and Echo didn’t resist, letting the men guide them toward another door.

  Behind them, Omega heard the woman’s voice as she called out orders, presumably to the National Guardsmen.

  “Hey,” Omega said to the deputy taking him, “can we talk to her again for a minute?”

  “You’ll get a chance in a few. She’s got shit to do. You can sit in a holding cell and wait on her.”

  They put them in a separate holding cell from the other three men.

  There was a guy in their cell who was, from the smell of him, drunk off his ass, asleep, and snoring facedown on the floor.

  “I can’t believe they’re sticking drunks in here,” Echo said.

  Omega sat on one of the metal benches welded to the wall. “I’m sure there’s more to the story than that.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Dude, how can you be so calm?”

  “Is being freaked out working for you?” He’d never ask for another partner, but Echo did sometimes have a flair for the melodramatic. It was what made him a good mimic. His knack for disguises and imitating people had served them well in dozens of operations. “We’re safe for right now, and despite our considerable skills, we’re not busting out of here without risking getting shot. Like Mark.”

  At the mention of Sparky’s real name, Echo jammed his hands into his pockets, one foot toeing at the floor. “Right,” he mumbled.

  Sparky weighed heavily on Omega’s mind. Yes, the older man wanted to come along, but he shouldn’t have died like that.

  They were smart not to put him and Echo in the same cell with those other assholes.

  The three would not have walked out alive, and that might have changed the female deputy’s mind about the two of them.

  Echo sank to the bench, next to Omega. “So we just wait, bro?”

  Omega nodded. “We just wait, bro. It’s all we can do.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Gia held her breath as she unlocked her apartment door and opened it. Fortunately, the smell inside wasn’t as bad as she’d anticipated.

  Glad I cleaned out the freaking fridge before I left.

  It had been precious time she hadn’t wanted to waste, and what she could she’d taken to the station with her and stashed in the break room fridge there. But things like condiments left behind had turned in the summer heat.

  Don’t suppose it makes any difference now.

  The tiny studio apartment had been all she could afford on her salary and still put enough money away for retirement. On the plus side, it meant she had few possessions to worry about leaving behind. A bed, a table, a chair, a dresser, all second-hand. She walked over to the closet and opened it. Even there she didn’t have a lot to worry about. She still had a few clean uniforms in the closet, but it wasn’t like she’d need them.

  Then again, they might come in handy.

  She pulled her suitcases out from under the bed and started packing all her clothes. The dirty clothes, she tossed into a garbage bag. They had a laundry room at the station she could use. She hadn’t had any time before now to wash her uniforms, but she’d make time today.

  Tomorrow, if not that very night, she knew there’d be a massive tipping point of deputies opting out of their duties. Especially if they had families.

  She didn’t blame them. If her parents were still alive, she might feel the same way.

  Fortunately, her mom had died five years ago from the flu, and her dad seven years ago from a heart attack. She didn’t have to worry about them and could focus fully on herself now.

  Well, and Sharon.

  Gia wouldn’t leave her friend alone, if the woman wanted to come with her.

  As she was loading everything into the SUV, one of her neighbors opened his front door. The man stepped out, watching her as she made her way back up the steps for the last load.

  “Gia? What’s going on?”

  “Why are you still here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Pack and get out.” She walked past him toward her own door. “As in today.”

  “Why?”

  She stopped and turned to stare at him. “Seriously?”

  He looked genuinely puzzled. “The earthquake? I mean, I know it’s taking a long time for them to get the power back on, but—”

  “Have you been living under a rock the past week?”

  “I was on the road. I’m a long-haul driver. I just got back in last night from Seattle.”

  She walked back to him. “So you really don’t know what’s going on?”

  “I listen to music when I drive. I don’t listen to news. That depresses the hell out of me.”

  She took a calming breath and let it out before giving him the summation. As she spoke, she watched the dawning horror grow in his widening gaze.

  “Son of a bitch,” he said. “I mean, I heard about the quake and riots, but I didn’t have to go that way so I didn’t pay attention.”

  “How is the way in from Seattle? You take the 5?”

  “Yeah. It was fine all the way in. I dropped the trailer in Bakersfield and was due for three days off before heading out again.”

  “Then I suggest you pack and leave and spend those days off in Bakersfield.” She turned again to head for her door when his sad tone stopped her.

  “Hey, I’ve got a sister in Anaheim. I couldn’t get her on the phone, but I thought maybe that was from the cell towers being down or overloaded or something. She’s married.”

  She paused at her door, not wanting to look back at him, not wanting to see the anguish on his face that was painted in his tone. “I recommend not going to find them. They’re either okay, or evacuated.”

  “They’ve got a kid,” he said.

  Gia took a deep breath and turned. Yep, shoulders slumped, his emotions muddying his face. “You want to help them by making a suicide run into the valley, be my guest,” she told him. “But chances are they’re not going to be there either way. I’m sure when they get somewhere where cell phones work, she’ll try to call you. You want to be helpful right now? Go door to door through the complex, knock, and tell people to evacuate. And tell them to go north.” She entered her apartment and closed the door behind her.

  Part of her wanted to try calling Dave again.

  The rest of her emotions jumped on that feeling and pounded it into bloody, whimpering submission. He’d made it perfectly clear he didn’t need her help.

  Then again, why should he be any different now than when we were married?

  She’d thought she loved Dave, at first. He seemed like a nice guy who wasn’t threatened by her job. He wanted to have kids, but she’d wanted to wait for a while, until she was more settled in her career and her pay had improved. Hell, she was only thirty-six. It wasn’t like she was over the hill.

  The irony didn’t escape her that she’d been ready to have the baby discussion with him, as her five-year was nearing its renewal date, when he’d popped the divorce and girlfriend on her.

  She’d never told him her thoughts on that, either. She refused to give him the satisfaction.

  Refused to let him think it was some desperate ploy for her to try to get him back.

  If he�
�d been cheating on her, she didn’t want him back.

  She’d had a new five-year implanted the next day, just to make sure, and then moved out.

  Chief Baynes had been the only one she’d told about her divorce, because she knew she’d need to arrange time off for court dates and lawyer visits. She’d rarely talked to her coworkers about her personal life anyway. She never wore a wedding ring, afraid it would get lost or hung up in the line of duty. Dave never wore one, either. He couldn’t as a mechanic. They’d gotten married at the county clerk’s office, so it wasn’t like there was a big ceremony to forget about.

  What’s that say about me, that I was able to so easily step out of that life and into this one?

  That wasn’t something she wanted to contemplate right then. For now, she wanted to finish gathering her things and making sure she didn’t leave anything behind she didn’t want to lose. Family pictures were all on hard drives, three duplicates.

  The only pieces of jewelry she had were her parents’ wedding rings, which she kept on a stainless steel necklace. That she did put on and carefully tucked beneath her undershirt.

  Everything else was just a possession, something easily replaceable at some future point.

  After she was convinced she’d gathered everything she wanted, she locked the door without a look back. No regrets, no second-guessing herself.

  She’d done enough of that during the divorce.

  For now, she needed to look forward and keep her mind on her job, and keeping as many of her people alive as possible.

  Too many potential Nick Edisons out there, and he already weighed heavily on her soul.

  She touched her jeans pocket, feeling the outline of the dog tag there.

  Yes, she’d avenged him, in a way, but to what end? His death meant more would die because she couldn’t permanently shut down the road.

  It was times like that she almost wished she was a religious person. Problem was, she’d seen Hell firsthand too many times, including now.