Ruined Between the Sheets: An Anthology of Dystopian Stories that Get to the Point

by L. A. Boruff

  “No. It’s a wild omnivore. It’ll be more like Venison, I reckon,” Howie replied. “Riddled with parasites though, need to cook it good and hot.”

  “Ah, I’ll watch from a distance with my trusty packet of noodles.” She scrunched up her nose.

  “Do you think it could be possible to keep your minds off food? Just for five minutes,” Maddox muttered. “Q with me. Lexie, stay with Howie. We’ll signal if it’s all clear.”

  Lexi’s stomach sank. “Be careful, please, both of you.”

  “Will do, ma’am.” Q winked at her and then he and Maddox were slipping from the truck and disappearing into the undergrowth either side.

  “They are camouflaged, aren’t they?” she murmured, no longer able to see them.

  “Yeah, strange really, but top brass thought it might work better than the neon pink ones they first tried out.”

  “Ha ha ha,” she deadpanned.

  "Hold on, I'm going to turn this baby in case we need to make sharp,” he said and put the truck into reverse.

  She stayed quiet as he turned the truck to face the way they’d come.

  “Keep watch up top,” he told her. “Keep your head down.”

  She opened a hatch and peered over the top.

  The passenger door opened, and Maddox and Q jumped inside.

  “Too many. Let’s go, they heard the truck,” Maddox ordered. “Lexie? Where’s Lexie?”

  “Here,” she called, spotting a Jeep come careening around the bend.

  “They’re following us.” She scrambled out of the way as Maddox pulled himself up.

  “Shit. Step on it, Howie. Q, rifles.”

  She looked in the side mirror and saw two black Jeeps with huge hunting lights on the top and across the front end. They were flashing their headlights. The large hunting lights were on but made no difference in the daylight.

  “Slow us, Howie,” Maddox ordered. “I’ll warn them off.”

  The truck slowed, and he fired off a warning shot that took out the driver’s side mirror.

  “Whoa, that was a good shot!” she exclaimed.

  “If it stops them, it's an excellent shot,” he muttered.

  “Not slowing, sir,” Q said.

  “Okay, let’s talk business. Q, nearside tyre, on my mark.” He aimed through the sight. “Keep it steady, Howie.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Mark.”

  They fired and both front tyres blew out. The Jeep careened, skidded in a wide arc, and came to a stop sideways. The other Jeep stopped, and Howie sped up, leaving them behind.

  “Yeah, the British army is not to be fucked with!” Q whooped

  “How do you know they didn’t need help?” It hadn’t occurred to her until he’d said British Army. “Maybe they wanted you to help them.”

  “We got to the house,” Maddox said. “Q, keep on watch in case they get stupid.”

  “Sir.”

  He left his rifle with Q and climbed into the front seat beside her.

  “What did you see?”

  “Laughing and partying like it’s the millennium not the end of the fucking world.” A muscle ticked on his jawline. “They’ll be dead before the week is out if they continue making that noise.”

  There was more than that, and she debated if she wanted to know. Yes, she needed to know if she wanted to survive. “What else?”

  “Lexi, it’s made me think. I was stupid not to have considered this before.” He looked at her, and she saw concern in his normally guarded eyes.

  “What?”

  “You’re a sitting duck, a pretty sitting duck.”

  “I am?” She wasn’t certain what he meant.

  “There were no women there.”

  It clicked, and she blew her breath out. “I can’t change sexes, Maddox.”

  “Thank god,” Howie murmured, making her snort with laughter.

  “No, but we can make it less obvious you’re a girl.”

  “We can?” She fingered her shoulder-length hair, and a pang went through her. “Not the hair.”

  “Yeah, the hair.”

  “But I’m not manly.”

  “We have spare kit back there. From a distance, you’d look enough like a boy to not bother with a closer look.”

  He was right. Didn’t she complain about her greasy hair, anyway? And which was better? A shaved head or taken from them by some sleazy slimeballs?

  “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  “Good girl.”

  3

  Private Cornish.

  Tears dripped down her face as her hair fell to the floor in chunks. Howie was cutting the long strands short, and then he’d buzz cut it with their shaver.

  Putting the house far behind them, they’d come across an old telephone exchange that was obsolete long before the virus started. They’d secured it, hidden the truck as best they could and holed up for the night. Q was on the first watch, and Maddox was using a camping stove to cook up some tinned stew.

  Howie was whistling as he cut her hair, but Lexi wasn’t so cheerful. Not because she thought she had fantastic hair, just that it had always been on her head. And wasn’t that the most ridiculous thing she’d ever thought?

  Shaved heads suited men, boys, and some women but not her. Wouldn’t she get cold? She wanted to demand he stop and stick it back on but it was long past the point of return. And when the shaver buzzed into life and made the first pass over her head she sobbed.

  “Keep still, Shorty. It shouldn’t cut you, but best to keep still.” He made another pass and she couldn’t stop her shoulders from shaking.

  He stopped, turned off the shaver and leant around, peering at her. She tried hiding her tears by turning her head away from him. “Are you crying? You are crying.” He stood and sifted through her hair. “Did I cut you? Hurt you?”

  “No, I’m fine. Something in my eye is all.” She wiped at her face, ducking her head to hide.

  “A hair?” he asked. “Let me look.”

  “It’s fine, honest. Just… carry on, please.” She gave a strangled sob and cursed herself as she covered her mouth with her hand, trying to turn it into a cough.

  He crouched in front of her and eyed her, his head tilted to the side. “Do you trust me?”

  She nodded, wiping her nose on her handkerchief.

  “Then wait, just wait.” He got up, pecked her forehead and started the shaver again.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, clenched her fists and held as still as she could while the tears slid free. He made several passes over her head and already the difference in temperature was obvious. She was now bald, like a billiard ball, an ugly billiard ball.

  “All done.” Howie switched off the shaver and brushed off the loose hair from her shoulders. “You’ll need to take that shirt off and give it a good shake, or you’ll be itching from here to kingdom come.”

  “Thank you.” She managed a squeak and went to her sleeping bag. If she didn’t touch her hair, didn’t look at it, maybe it would magically regrow.

  On the sleeping bag lay camouflage trousers, a green t-shirt, a camouflage jacket, and a green beret. It was time for her to lose her civies, as they called her clothes.

  “Don’t you want to see what you look like?” Howie had followed her.

  She shook her head, not trusting her voice.

  “I think it looks good,” he said.

  She couldn’t detect any false edge to his voice, but he was probably trying to make her feel better.

  “You have the face shape for it,” he carried on.

  She nodded, and stepping to one side, she stripped off her t-shirt. A chunk of hair fell to the floor, and she hiccoughed.

  He stepped around her and held up a hand-sized mirror. She tried looking away, but he moved the mirror to follow her head.

  “Don’t be stubborn,” he said. “Just look, Lexi. It’s short, it hasn’t transformed you into Quasimodo.”

  “He was a hunchback, not ugly.”

  “And you’re
not a hunchback, or ugly. I told you, I think it makes you look hot. Your ally factor is through the roof.”

  “Ally factor?”

  “Yeah, ally. Hard, makes you look hard, top dog, y’know.”

  She didn’t but let it drop. “Hot? I’m bald!”

  “You’re not bald. Are we bald?”

  “Well, not completely, but you are short.”

  “Ours is a grade four. You’re an eight, crew cut. Look.”

  He thrust the mirror under her nose and she half closed her eyes, bracing herself for the shock.

  She wasn’t bald. It was short, but she wasn’t bald. It wasn’t a beauty contest style, but then neither was she. Relief flooded through her; at least she wasn’t a billiard ball.

  “Oh.”

  “Now this is the part where you say, ‘Howie, you genius, you’ve made me into Private Lexi Cornish, and now I have to obey your every command’.”

  She lifted her eyes and smirked at him. “Every command?”

  “Every command.” He nodded and looked around before throwing the mirror onto the sleeping bag. He slid his finger into the front of her bra and tugged her towards him.

  Awareness flickered to life in the pit of her stomach. Keeping his finger tucked into her bra he swept the stray hairs from her shoulders with the other one. He blew on the ones that clung to her neck, and she shivered.

  “Cold?” He met her gaze as he blew across her breast bones.

  She shook her head, holding his gaze.

  He slid his finger across the edge of her bra and pulled it outward. He blew over her breast, and her nipple tightened, sending sparks between her legs.

  “It’s not working.” He blew again, directing the cold air onto her nipple. “Take off your bra, Private Cornish, we’ll need some serious skin to skin contact to make sure we remove all those hairs.”

  His smirk grew as her nipples showed through the material of her bra. “Look at those babies,” he murmured. “Desperate for my lips.”

  “You don’t want to do that.” She shook her head. “You’ll get hair in your mouth.”

  “I intend to.” He caught her gaze and the heat burning in his eyes set her blood on fire.

  “Have you fini—Ah.” Maddox chuckled. “I was about to tell you the food was ready.”

  “Sir, meet Private Lexi Cornish.” Howie gripped her shoulders and turned her to Maddox.

  His stern face softened, and he brushed a loose hair from her shoulder. “It suits you.”

  “See. I told you. I told her, sir. But this recruit is stubborn.”

  “I’m a recruit now?” She laughed. “I’d fail the first medical.”

  “You think?” Maddox arched an eyebrow and looked at Howie. “We should see how fit you are.”

  “I’m not doing sit-ups or running laps.”

  “Oh, no, Private. The first test is always flexibility.” Maddox caught her gaze.

  “And stamina.” Howie’s hot breath ghosted over her shoulder, and she shuddered, her nipples hardening again.

  Maddox put a fingertip under her chin and lifted her head to meet his gaze. “New recruits within six months of their contract can leave if they give fourteen days’ notice. You don’t need to give fourteen days’ notice, Private Cornish. Just a no will suffice.”

  Her heart flipped in her chest, and her stomach tightened. “Will the British army be disappointed if I say no?”

  “We’re very understanding,” Howie whispered into her ear. “We look after our recruits because we want to keep them.”

  They hadn’t shared her before. It wasn’t that often they had sex at all. Running from the infected and constantly being on guard wasn’t conducive to getting your freak on. But the thought of two of them hadn’t occurred to her before.

  Maddox stroked his finger over her cheek, and then kissed her, his lips lingering on hers. “I’ll keep your stew warm.”

  He took a step back, and she reacted, grabbing his shirt. She looked back at Howie. “Does the army share like this too?”

  “A good soldier is selfless. We share and support each other in everything.” He put his hands on her hips.

  “As long as the army knows that this recruit has no idea how sharing works but wants to learn.”

  “All the marks of an excellent corporal in the making,” Maddox murmured and closed the gap between them. He lowered his head and sucked on her pulse point.

  Howie kissed the back of her neck, gagged, and spat on the floor. “Let’s just clean this recruit up, sir. She’s hairy back here.”

  “And in front.” Maddox chuckled, removing a stray hair from his mouth, making her laugh.

  Howie stripped his own shirt off and then brushed it over her neck, shoulders, and back before handing it to Maddox who brushed off her front.

  Her bra was unclipped, and Howie slid the straps down her arms, smoothing his hands over her bare skin. Goosebumps rose from his touch, and she bit back a moan. He kissed the top of her spine, his fingers trailing down her back to her waistband, dragging a low moan from her.

  Maddox cupped her breasts his thumbs rubbing her nipples and she cried out, arching into him. Her hand twisted in his shirt, and she reached back to grab Howie’s thigh.

  “So fucking responsive,” Howie breathed, his chin on her shoulder as he watched his commanding officer tease her.

  Maddox bent and sucked her nipple into his mouth and bit lightly. She jolted, lightning striking where his teeth tugged. Needing to touch him, she pushed her hand under his shirt and onto his abs. Damn, he was fit. She trailed her fingers over his muscles and felt him suck in a breath.

  Howie inched his fingers around her waist, undid her trousers, and pushed his hand inside, cupping her.

  “Fuck.” Her head went back onto his shoulder as she bucked her hips.

  “Yeah, that’s right, baby,” Howie murmured. “I'm going to fuck you.”

  “Two seconds.” Maddox stepped away from her, and she whined.

  “He’ll be back, baby. We need to make sure you’re protected.” Howie nibbled her ear. “Let’s get you comfy.” He drew out his hand and kicked the mirror from her sleeping bag.

  The moment her back hit the sleeping bag Howie was on her. Mouthing at her breasts and pushing his hand into her trousers again. He was quicksilver and their times together were intense, exhausting, and fast. He always made sure she was ready for him, but his favourite place to be was inside her. It worked because it was also her favourite place for him to be.

  Maddox dragged his sleeping bag over, and Howie lifted his head. His hazel eyes were alight with lust, and it gave her a kick knowing she put the lust there. Even with a man’s haircut.

  He worked his way down her legs, tugging her jeans and underwear off at the same time.

  She tugged them closer and undid their zips but struggled to undo the buttons one-handed.

  They pulled her hands away and unfastened the buttons.

  “Oh, gods.” She lost her breath at the view before her. They were both magnificently toned and muscled by hard work and hard exercise regimes. Add in they were both ready for her and her head swam.

  Howie pushed his trousers to his knees and spread her legs. She expected him to drive into her and welcomed it, but when he lifted her hips and buried his face between her legs, she cried out. Clutching at the sleeping bag she arched upwards; her eyes squeezed shut as he made her see stars with his tongue and lips.

  Fingers played with her nipples, and she opened her eyes to see Maddox was beside her, his face level with hers.

  “We need to keep you quiet.” His tongue invaded her mouth, his fingers wicked on her breasts, and it was almost too much. She clutched his head with one hand and grabbed Howie with her other.

  Howie worked her relentlessly, pushing her to head-spinning heights as his teeth grazed over her clit before licking her and then repeating it again and again.

  She was groaning into Maddox’s mouth, shaking and writhing under them.

  Howie lifted
his head, his breathing hard. “Hold her still, sir.”

  Maddox went to his knees, caught her hands and pinned them to the floor above her head. He lowered his mouth to her breast and sucked hard on her nipple.

  She couldn’t stop the scream it dragged from her throat, and Maddox caught her wrists with one hand. He covered her mouth with his other and returned to sucking on her nipples.

  She was so close, so bloody close. Nothing existed outside of the sensations they were creating in her. Every nerve was on fire and ready to explode. And when Howie thrust his fingers into her and rubbed her clit with his thumb, she went supernova.

  Being held down, and with Maddox’s hand over her mouth, it intensified the sensations until she thought she’d die from sheer pleasure. Howie worked her through the pulsating aftershocks, easing her down.

  “Lexi, please? Yes or no, babe.” Other than their first time, Howie never got this far and then asked if he could fuck her. But that wasn’t what he wanted to know. She nodded, her mouth still covered by Maddox’s hand. Howie didn’t care Maddox was there and neither did she.

  Howie swore, fumbled with the condoms and rolled one on. He gripped her hips and impaled her with one thrust.

  Her eyes rolled back in her head as he pounded into her. He was fast and hard, leaving her breathless and teetering on the edge again. Maddox moved, and Howie buried his face in her neck as he grunted and groaned his release. Her legs were wrapped around him, and she was grinding from side to side, trying to find the friction she needed.

  “Maddox,” Howie muttered into her ear, still panting. “Yes, or no?”

  “Fuck, yes.” She nodded. “Please, finish me first.”

  He lifted his head, a smug smirk on his lips. “Babe, anything for you.” He pushed his hand between them, expertly finding her clit. And just as expertly, he pushed her over the edge he’d brought her to. He swallowed her cries of pleasure his mouth covering hers. Spent, she flopped back against the sleeping bag.

  “Babe, you are it, sugar.” Howie kissed her, nuzzling her neck, and then he pulled from her and rolled to the side.

  She turned her head and saw Maddox kneeling, fisting himself as he watched.

  He caught her gaze and his face softened. “I can jerk off if you’re fucked out,” he said. “It isn’t going to take much, sweetheart. Hearing and watching you come always does it for me.”