Teddy turned back to Jerry, “Don’t drink the water, you dumb fat jackass. You’re going to make yourself sick.”
Some of the kids laughed at this, others remained in silence. They were both nervous and amazed at how bold Teddy was. Nobody in the whole congregation ever spoke like that.
With the situation getting personal, Jerry stood up in anger. “Who you calling fat, Mr. Skinny Chicken Legs?”
“I’m just saying we boil our water for a reason. You want to get sick, drink up.”
By nightfall Nikki was sweating in a deep fever. Jon had done his best to tie the rope so that it wouldn’t chafe her wrists or ankles, but in her fitful sleep, with her body twisting in delirious pain, the bindings inevitably abraded her skin.
Hannah, the congregation’s nurse, had passed Jon a bottle of aspirin and some of the congregation’s precious stash of antibiotics. She had approached the door dressed in a makeshift trash-bag-surgical gown and mask, which was burned as soon as she had completed her mission. There was little to do but wait.
For the time being, Jon was able to convince the congregation not to burn down the shed with him and Nikki in it. He had little doubt that if she succumbed, the two of them would be roasted alive.
The antibiotics would have no effect if the infection was Cain’s, but if it was anything else, the community felt it owed it to Nikki to volunteer its minor stock of pills. Jon watched with growing apprehension as her delirium increased. She barked out nonsensical sentences and shuddered and shivered with a kind of pain that the aspirin seemed to have no effect on. He continually flashed on his grandmother’s fevered hours and her final change when she became suddenly aware again, her eyes sharply focused with that wolfish grin crossing her face. He desperately didn’t want to see that face appear on Nikki's lovely visage. In Jon’s eyes, even in her sweaty, grimy, fever, Nikki was beautiful. The flush in her cheeks only added to the allure; at least until his gaze rested on her mouth. Her lips were gray and cracked from dehydration. She could no longer hold a cup to drink so he soaked a washcloth in fresh water and squeezed what he could onto her tongue, trying not to choke her. It was in those moments, when she responded to the water, swallowing and opening her mouth for more, that Jon was reassured. For now she was still with him and he could put aside thoughts of having to smother her with a pillow held firmly on her face.
As the night wore on, Nikki had moments of peaceful rest and Jon would find himself nodding off as well, only to awaken again when she made a soft whimper or moan. For too long now, he had held up, been brave and strong in the face of danger, sympathetic but merciless in his complicity with mass euthanasia, remaining nonplused in moments of sheer tragedy, and faithfully reporting it all so that the world might know. Now, in this moment of relative tranquility, on an island inhabited by yet another group of delusional people, he broke down. He curled into a fetal position on the thin cot mattress and let a flood of pent up tears soak into his pillow. He cried with a silent open mouth, the strain of it cramping his neck and shoulders. Then he sobbed so hard that he exhausted himself, and in his exhaustion he fell asleep - a deep and trouble-free sleep where there were neither nightmares nor night sweats or any dreams at all. He slept as though in a coma, forgetting about his disease-riddled friend, lying tied to a cot only a few feet away.
When he woke, dawn filtered through the cracks, casting the room in gray dim light. At first he was confused by his surroundings, not recognizing this world, and then it all flooded back and he closed his eyes with disappointment. He could hear Nikki breathing softly and he gazed over at the cot. She was laying still, just the rise and fall of her chest to indicate life. His gaze shifted to her neck and he watched as her thick carotid artery gently pulsed under the skin. He stood and looked closer. Her color had returned almost to normal. He leaned in to within two feet of the cot and looked at her peaceful face - then suddenly her eyes flashed open and he gave out an involuntary yelp as he fell back on his butt.
“Oh?” she blurted.
Jon’s eyes grew wide and he said, “Are you, you?”
“I am.”
“Jesus, what a night.”
“I have to pee.”
“I’ll untie you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Release
It was determined by Hannah, the congregation’s nurse, that Nikki was not a victim of the Devil (which was obvious since she wasn’t trying to eat other people) and that Jon was safe as well. As such, Nikki was invited to stay in the storage shed for another night or two while she was on the mend. It was deemed appropriate that Jon should settle back into his tent in order to maintain propriety.
The reverend stopped by bearing vitamin C pills and handed them to Nikki. “From my own personal supply. Help you get better quicker.”
Nikki was standing now. “I’m a bit confused, Buzz. Yesterday, I was the enemy. I know I helped out, but that was as much for me and Jon as any of you. Why so nice?”
“No souls are unredeemable, child. Say what you will, but you did a selfless thing. The people are grateful.”
“Well, if that’s true, then you’ll agree to let us move to the East Side.”
Calder smiled and ignored the question. “Mr. Washington, if you’ll join me. I’ll make sure you’re settled once again in your own space.”
Jon stood and instinctively leaned in to give Nikki a kiss on the cheek. She briefly hesitated at the gesture and then offered her cheek for an air kiss. Jon looked at her for an awkward second before turning to follow the reverend out.
“Wait,” she called.
He stopped and turned back to her.
She smiled weakly. “I didn’t get infected, right?”
“Right.”
“Then this is probably safe.” She took him into her arms, kissed him gently on the mouth. When they parted, she looked into his eyes and said, “Thank you.”
He smiled, gave her lips another quick peck and turned back for the door. “I’ll see you later.” When he stepped out, the reverend turned and poked his head back inside, “The door will be unlocked. You may of course use the ladies washroom again.”
That night, after a long day working in the fields, Jon found himself bone tired and staring at the ceiling of his tent while falling pine needles pattered upon the roof. For the first time in nearly a year, he wished that he had something to read, something to occupy his wandering mind and especially distract him from thoughts of Nikki. He had to admit that he was building strong feelings for her. As far as her feelings for him… he was still trying to decipher that kiss. Was it just appreciation or was it more? Heck, he knew he was appreciated. He suspected that her military training let her put such feelings in check. It was only recently that women had finally achieved near equality in combat roles. Such gains required a certain sacrifice of the heart in order to maintain professionalism and efficiency. So he was startled when he heard the zipper on his tent part a few inches and Nikki's familiar breathing enter the space. For a split second he became alert to the notion that she had succumbed to the disease after all and was looking for dinner, but then she said, “You there? Can I come in?”
“Uh, of course.”
She finished unzipping and crawled in while he slid over to make room for her. “Did I wake you? Give you a scare?”
“More of a startle. I was awake.”
It was so dark that he could barely register her silhouette as she turned and zipped the tent closed. She said, “I missed you.” He felt his heart flutter and he told himself, I guess that answers that question. “I was thinking about you too.”
She had brought her sleeping bag and unrolled it next to his. “It’s cold.” She lay down and he pulled her chilly body next to him, her back spooning against his front.
“Better?” he asked.
“Much.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Surprisingly good.”
They lay like that in silence for a while, but for Jon it was difficult to be comfor
table. Her body felt very good and quickly warmed next to his. They fit together like they were cast in the same die. Listening to her breathing he could detect a change in its rhythm. Rather than getting more relaxed it seemed to increase slightly in pace. He let his hand rested on her hard, flat belly. The contours of her stomach muscles stiffened and then softened again, relaxing with the rise and fall of her diaphragm.
She whispered, “I was kind of hoping you might want to give me another one.”
“Another what?”
“One of these.” She turned her face and kissed his mouth. It was deeper this time, long and slow and their lips parted in order to explore more.
Slowly he could feel himself become hard against her. Here they were again, he told himself, the intensity of survival bringing out their most primal instincts. But maybe not. This felt like something more.
She turned further toward him and he felt her warm sweet breath against his cheek. His hand slid up her torso, brushing her breasts as he cupped the side of her face, kissing her softly and then more urgently as she kissed back. His chest filled with warmth, heavy with it, and his scalp lit up with tingling sensations as her tongue flicked about, teasing his lips. His hand moved back down and found one of her full and firm breasts, the nipple pressed back against his thumb and she let out a soft moan of pleasure. He was getting crushed inside his pants, and he reached down to adjust things, making Nikki giggle.
“What?”
“I don’t know. Don’t ask me to explain.”
She turned, placed her hand flat on his belly and slid it down inside his shorts, gripping the firmness of him with gentle strength. He gasped at the touch, the long hibernating sense-memories kicking into gear. They kissed harder, tongues urgently exploring.
Her lips found his ear and neck, sending shivers down his spine and she whispered, “Female Marines have time released birth control implanted under the skin.” She put his hand on her arm. “If you touch my shoulder right here you’ll feel a little bump.”
He rubbed gently on the spot. Sure enough, there was a centimeter long tube under her skin; almost like a pencil lead had been broken off there. He could barely concentrate on this information as she continued to stroke him with her other hand. Still, he could hear in her voice that she wanted him to confirm it back to her. “Okay, I feel it.”
She said, “I want you to make love to me again.” She kept stroking him.
With the ‘okay go’ switch flipped, Jon needed no further instruction. He yanked at her T-shirt, fumbling with one hand in the dark, and she released him in order to shrug herself out it. She had intentionally left her bra out of the equation and he found himself teasing her breasts with his mouth. She gasped and pressed her pubic bone against him, grinding with expanded urgency. She pulled his T-shirt over his head and breathed on his body while pulling in his scent.
“For someone who doesn’t get to bath much, you sure smell good.”
“You too.”
They continued to kiss as he unbuttoned and unzipped her pants. She kicked them off with another light giggle, then held his face to her neck, letting him take in her scent, moving his head down between her breasts. With the tip of his tongue he could feel the downy peach fuzz that covered her skin.
She pulled off Jon’s shorts next and didn’t hesitate to place him inside her mouth. He threw his head back and gasped as he was taken away, his heart pounding, his breathing short and quick.
Then suddenly it wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel her body pressed to his. He needed to kiss her again. He reached down and gently took her by the shoulders, laying her over on her back, kissing her deeply. With a quick tug he had her panties off. He marveled at the softness of her pubic hair and he could feel her expand as he slid his fingers across her wetness. She groaned as he brushed her swollen skin, parting her soft folds with ease as his fingers gently explored. She grabbed his neck with one hand and pulled him back to face her, kissing him again as he slowly pressed against her.
“Hi,” he whispered in her ear.
“Hi,” she said back.
“This is nice.”
“Very.”
“My heart is pounding.”
“So is mine. Can’t you feel it beating against yours?”
“Yes.”
“Jon?”
“Uh huh?”
“Don’t pull out like before, okay? I want… I need you, the essence of you, to be with me afterwards. Okay?”
“Okay. I mean, you did say you had that thing under your skin.”
“Just making sure you got it.”
“I got it.”
Then he slid inside her. They both groaned and Nikki grabbed his buttocks, pulling him in deeper. “Oh my God that feels good.”
When it was passed and the spasms that rocked them repeatedly had ceased, Jon breathed out and let some of his weight rest on top of her. She reached out for his sleeping bag and pulled it over them, warding off the chill. They listened to each other’s breathing.
Finally, she said, “Thank you.”
"Thank you.” Jon kissed her neck, felt her pulse, and pondered this new development in their relationship. He decided he needed to confirm what it was by blurting out, “I like you.”
“What are you, fifteen…? I like you too.”
“I’m feeling a bit like a teenager,” then he ground his remaining hardness inside her.
She let out a feigned gasp of surprise. “Sir? You require more?”
“Not counting our mad moment the other night, it’s been at least a year. Hell yes, more.”
They made love for hours; sometimes with urgency and other moments with tenderness while whispering fond words and feeling happy thoughts, tasting and smelling and sensing and listening as their hearts grew in contentment, and finally they slept - way past dawn, past the church service, past the time to labor in the fields.
When they finally poked their heads out of the tent, Reverend Calder was sitting outside on his folding campstool, Katherine standing at his shoulder. Several children watched from afar and giggled amongst themselves with wonder and embarrassment. Many other congregants stood in stoic silence, arms crossed, judgment written across their faces.
Calder said, “We’ve conferred upon your request. We think it’s best that you move to the East side. You will be given two weeks provisions. You’ll sort the rest out yourselves. When the crops come in, we will share what we can.”
It was agreed that they would offer each other information on any unusual happenings, but that any other communication would be strictly limited. The community that had settled this island had carved out a space for themselves in these End Times to avoid the severe moral decline that Jon and Nikki represented. A line was drawn on a topographical map. They were not to cross it.
As they humped their gear out of the village, Nikki said to Jon, “If I had known it would be that easy, I’d have jumped your bones the first night we were here.”
PART FOUR
The Crucible
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Broken Fever
A week had passed. Nikki and Jon lay in their tent enjoying the moonlit leafy shadows that moved gently across the ceiling. They were blissfully unaware of the bombing campaign, which had begun far to the south. Instead, they were exhausted from another marathon round of sexual gymnastics. They held hands as their bodies cooled down, their heartbeats returning to normal.
Nikki said, “I think it’s the roof.”
“Hmm?”
“I want a different roof.”
“Are we being cryptic or is this a new guessing game?”
She turned on her side to face him. “I can’t keep doing this.”
“This? You mean us?”
“No, not us. The roof. It’s too close. I want a different roof.” She regarded the tent. “These things have always made me feel claustrophobic.”
Jon listened to the loons serenade the night air, then said, “You want to build a lean-to? A log cabin?”<
br />
“I want to live in a house or at least an apartment. I want to be able to go to the grocery store, stream a movie, see a play. Would you believe that I’ve never been to a play? Go to the gym, buy clothes – you know, live life as we knew it – or at least the way I want to know it. How I planned it after my discharge.”
“Okay. I can understand that.”
“I want a real roof over my head. I don’t want to hide out on some island in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of religious whackos and the constant threat of some crazed cannibal floating ashore, ready to tear my throat out.”
“I hear you.”
“I want to make love in a real bed or in the kitchen or the back yard for that matter.”
Jon nodded with some enthusiasm.
“I’ve just spent three years of my life in Central Asian and African wars. It was a shit-storm over there almost as bad as this. I come home with the hope of a normal life and instead get to watch the worst calamity ever to befall man. I’m tired, Jon. I’m tired of fighting.”
Jon was at a loss for words. His instinct was to offer solutions. He’d read a book once that said that women, when they downloaded like this, were just looking for comfort and acknowledgement, not fixes. But his man-brain couldn’t help itself. “Hon, from what we’ve heard, Canada is no picnic right now either. Housing is a premium with multiple families sharing one house or apartment, petty crime, food shortages – I doubt there’s very many plays. I know what you want, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t exist right now. Add to that the millions of those Things between here and there and we’ve pretty much found paradise right where you’re lying.”
“Are you always so realistically negative?”
“I’m sorry, but that’s our reality, Hon.”
Nikki let out a poof of air and a sigh. “You’re making me sleepy. And don’t call me Hon. You sound like a diner waitress.”
“Okay. So let’s go to sleep - Honey.”
“You’re making me sleepy is an expression, knucklehead. It means I don’t want to hear what you’ve got to say.”
Of Sudden Origin Page 21
