Max Ryker- The End Begins
Page 17
“Max, Max!” She was shaking me. I bolted upright, my gun automatically retrieved from under my pillow.
“What? What is it?” I whispered. “What do you hear?”
“You. Snoring. I can’t sleep.”
2:30 a.m.
“Max.” She was shaking me again.
I grabbed my gun. “What did you hear?”
“Nothing, I felt something—as in your knee in my back.”
It was a very long night.
Chapter 39
Three days traveling on a logging road was heaven, while three nights sleeping next to her was pure hell. In the daytime, the road allowed us to move at a good clip and lay a lot of miles. At night, my bedtime ritual was simple—shuck my clothes and crash. But Susan brought the fireside chitchat along with her and then insisted on before-bed prayers. It was a whole process, and not one I enjoyed.
On the third day, just as we were getting close to the outer edge of the forest, we hit a patch where the thruway had completely washed out, forcing us to leave the logging road and work our way around. There were no trails to follow; the terrain was thick with overgrown, intertwined brush. We had to chop our way through most of it. Finally, after about an hour, we found the other part of the logging road. It was more worn and crooked than the first part, but it still allowed for nice progress. We hiked hard, knowing the other side of the Talladega was near. We were both ready to put the thick woods behind us.
The forest was dense and shaded by a heavy overgrowth of trees and thickets. Plenty of sunlight seeped through, so it was brighter than night, but still dark. After walking in those conditions for several days, your eyes become accustomed to its shadows. When we finally burst through the other side of the Talladega, it was like Broadway spotlights were suddenly shined in our faces. We had to step back into the forest and allow our eyes to readjust to bright, direct sunlight.
We came out onto a large grassy field. Sarge’s military map showed a dirt road up ahead. Within a few minutes, we were on it, walking east. With the sunshine came warmth. The forest is also damp and slightly chilly. Another condition that becomes normal after a few days.
“The warmth feels good,” I said.
She was smiling. “Yes, indeed. And the brightness, and the green field.”
I was hoping there would be abandoned houses nearby, but Sarge said not to expect any for a very long distance. Since the army hadn’t used the road in a long time, maybe the area had grown a little, unbeknownst to them. I could only hope. The idea of crashing in a house, and a soft bed, was a welcomed thought. We trucked along. The sister was in hard-pace mode. I spotted some moving speckles ahead and grabbed her arm.
“Hang on, we’ve got company ahead.” I pulled out my field glasses but couldn’t make much out from this distance. We decided to sit and wait. After a half hour, they hadn’t moved, so I climbed a tree to get a peek at what we were dealing with.
“It looks like a younger woman and a man, maybe her father. Nothing appears to be of concern.”
“No sign of danger?” the sister asked.
“No, I didn’t see any rifles. That doesn’t mean they don’t have sidearms.”
“What were they doing?”
“They appeared to be arguing about something.”
“What should we do?”
“We've waited, and they haven’t moved. I say we walk up cautiously and pass them.”
“Okay.” She picked up her stuff and began walking. She was too trusting; looks can be deceiving.
When we got within one hundred yards, I checked them out again with the glasses. Two ordinary people standing on the side of the road, arguing and at a stalemate. I told Sister to wait behind. “You have to cover me if I get in danger. I know that goes against—”
“Trust me, Max, if they get violent, I’ll protect you.”
I eyeballed her, worried.
She raised her hand. “I promise, I won’t allow them to hurt you. Nun’s honor,” she said, doing a funky hand signal.
I didn’t bite. “Don’t make stuff up, Sister; there’s no such thing as a nun’s honor sign.”
She shooed me off, pointing at the rifle. “I got your back, don’t worry.”
I was literally upon them, maybe forty feet away, before they even noticed me. I had one handgun down the back of my pants and used a T-shirt to fashion a fake arm sling, where I hid another. I was mentally aiming the gun at the man while watching the woman. I learned long ago, never assume the woman isn’t the most dangerous one in a couple; she often is. I was now close enough to hear them.
“I don’t give a damn, Dale. I told you—I’m going to the Safe Zone. Stop here if you want, but I’m leaving. Hopefully with this man right here,” she said, pointing at me.
The man looked at me warily, the full effect of a strange male walking up just now seeming to break the spell of the spat. I tensed. If he moved suddenly, I’d shoot the guy. It was all up to him.
Instead, he stuck out his hand. “Hey, feller, Dale McAnney.”
“Max Ryker,” I replied, reaching my “good” hand out, my gaze never leaving either of them.
“This here’s Jennifer; she’s in a bit of a tizzy right now.”
She turned to me. “I want to go to Atlanta and find the rest of civilization. Dale wants to find a house here in the woods and hide out. Will you take me with you, mister?” she asked straight out.
“Wait just a minute here,” Dale jumped in.
I said, “Hey, I don’t want to get in the middle of a family dispute. I’m just passing through, so if you don’t mind, I’ll—”
“This isn’t a family dispute. We’re traveling companions. We’ve only known each other for a week. Will you take me with… Was it Max?” she asked, now smiling big and pushing her chest out slightly. A very substantial chest, I might add.
“Yes—”
“Great, let’s go,” she said.
“Wait a second. I said yes, my name’s Max, but I also have a travel companion.” I turned around and waved for the sister to come forward. I turned back to the couple as they continued to argue—but the woman wasn’t paying much attention; she was checking me out and not hiding it.
Jennifer was a rough-around-the-edges dirty-blond, with hazel eyes. I pegged her as late twenties. She wore a low-cut blouse and tight, low-riding hip-huggers. Her midriff was bare—sexuality oozed off her.
Dale couldn’t be any more different. Late forties, balding, with the leather skin of a contractor and the beer belly of a heavy drinker. He seemed friendly enough, and only slightly suspicious of me. He wore a broad-rimmed black cowboy hat and a belt buckle that said Bocephus. I didn’t understand why he would have a dinosaur name on his belt, but I didn’t ponder it.
Just then, the sister walked up. “Hi, my name’s Susan. How are you guys?” Her friendly approach forced them to become instantly civil. I made quick introductions in the hopes of making a quick exit.
Jennifer made no attempt to hide her assessment of the new female. Her thoughts were easy to follow; I just watched her eyes. First, she did a quick once-over of the face, chest, belly, and legs. Next, she repeated the process, but a little slower, comparing what she saw against herself. Jennifer quickly appraised the sister, but Susan didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t let on that she did. I had to smile at Jennifer’s self-serving conclusion—she had the feminine upper hand, evident by her slight smirk and the way she pushed out her hip. In the uncomfortable quiet following the introductions, I reintroduced Susan as Sister Susan. This garnered me a dirty look from the sister, although I didn’t know why.
The immediate smile on Jennifer’s face answered that question. She had game; the sister did not. Jennifer became animated right away and moved closer to me. I saw the sister frown slightly, replacing it quickly with a smile, but a fake one.
“Let’s travel as a group,” Jennifer said. “I assume we’re all heading to Atlanta?” she said, looking straight at me.
Both Dale and the sister
agreed to the new travel arrangements before I could make an excuse to say no. We all started walking.
“So, Dale, what do you know about the Event?” I said.
He shook his head. “Nothing. We just heard everybody should go to a Safe Zone the government set up in Atlanta.”
“What do you know, Max?” Jennifer cooed, beaming my way. “I’m sure you’re informed.” She shot Dale a sideways glare.
“Have you experienced any violence? Seen any Hogwogs close by?” I asked, looking at Dale.
“Yes, we barely escaped a nightmare,” Dale said.
“No thanks to him,” Jennifer barged in. “We’re from Hansonville, and a week ago, a group of ’Wogs rolled into town and took over. Those of us living on the south side of town got a little heads-up, and we fled. About twenty of us were in a shopping center parking lot when some motorcycles rode up and just starting shooting us,” she said, close to tears.
“We scattered,” Dale said, “and ran through the woods. That’s where Jenn and I met up. They pursued us through the forest. We could hear gunshots and people screaming, so we ran like the dickens. We hid in an old barn and traveled at night. In the day, they scout, even on the secondary roads.”
“When’s the last time you saw any ’Wogs?” I said.
“Back where Dale dropped our gun, scared shitless. If you need hiding lessons, he’s a pro,” Jennifer said.
Dale glared at her and then looked at me. “We haven’t seen or heard any vehicles since we reached the northern edge of the Talladega. We followed its eastern perimeter down to this dirt road, which eventually leads to Atlanta. I-20 isn’t much farther south, so heading east now is probably the safest route,” he said.
“That’s it?” I said.
He nodded. “All we’ve seen lately are long stretches of dirt roads and farms. You’re the first people we’ve seen—alive, that is,” he said. My look indicated no need to expand. I already knew what the quiet houses contained.
What I didn’t realize was our problems wouldn’t come from outside Hogwogs. We'd have all the turmoil we needed, right within our new little group.
Chapter 40
Around five we crossed an overpass and Jenn, as she preferred to be called, said she was exhausted and wanted to stop for the night. Sister suggested otherwise, and a small cat fight ensued. I stepped in and brokered a deal to stop early tonight and leave early in the morning. Neither was happy with the compromise.
Throughout dinner, and up until bedtime, the tension was thick between the two women, with Jenn causing most of it. Dale passed some bourbon around that we all shared, except for Sister. For some reason, she seemed angry at me. I was just considering bed when Jenn suggested she and I go on a walk. I was going to decline, but before I could, she whispered in my ear, “I have something I need to share in private.” How could I say no to that? I looked over at the sister, although I’m unsure why, but she turned away dismissively.
Jenn made small talk as we walked, leading us over to a small clearing and sitting down on a fallen tree trunk. We were far enough away from the site that we couldn’t see the fire flickering.
“Do you mind if I speak my mind?" she asked. "I’ve been told I can be a bit blunt.” She scooted over closer to me, her smile big and inviting. I noticed that a few of her blouse buttons had come undone during our walk. Man, what a pair.
“Please do. I prefer candor,” I answered.
“I need to get away from that dirty old man,” she hissed. “He makes me do things by threatening to abandon me. I can’t make it out here in the wild by myself,” she whined, shivering as if she were cold—but it wasn’t cold out. She scooched closer, pressing her leg against mine. “But what can I do?” she pleaded.
I wasn’t exactly sure what to say. Dale seemed like a nice guy; it was hard to believe he’d insist on sex to help the woman. But looks can be deceiving. However, everything considered, she seemed the bullshitter—not him. Her leg pressing against mine was beginning to feel pretty damned good. She leaned subtly against me and, once fully in place, pressed in harder. I could see her nipples poking out of the thin top. I felt stirrings.
She didn’t waste any time, placing her hand on my leg, halfway between the knee and groin. “I just need a man to protect me, that’s all. I know how to take care of a man who takes care of me,” she said in a low, seductive voice. I’d been without a woman for many weeks now, and the truth be told, the sexual tension between Susan and me was also taking a toll. Her hand inched closer up, exactly what I was craving.
“You’re so strong and handsome, Max. I need that so much right now,” she said, letting out a slight moan that sounded like a purr. I knew good and damn well she was seducing me. The problem was, it was working. She pressed her breasts against my chest; I could feel their firmness and the want of the hard tips pushing into me. She turned sideways, pressing more of her body against mine, and then grabbed my hand, placing it above the knee. I couldn’t help softly stroking the naked flesh of her inner thigh. She smelled so good; I could feel the heat rising from her body. She let out a small gasp as I stroked, gently guiding my hand upward, letting me know she was ready. She definitely had me ready. When I felt the bottom of her short-shorts brush against my hand, she said, “I need it right now, right here. God, what I need—”
“You’re right,” the sister broke in. “God is what you need right now, Jenn.”
If there was ever a boner breaker, that was it. Talk about a wet dream being squashed. The sister popping in, and talking God, right in the heat of the moment.
Susan walked over and pointed between us. Before we reacted, she turned around and started wiggling her butt to squeeze in between us. Instinctively, Jenn and I slid apart. The sister plopped down and touched my shoulder.
“Max, why don’t you go back to camp and let us girls talk. Jenn needs some spiritual guidance right now.” I looked at her, feeling totally disoriented. One minute I was getting laid, and the next minute I wasn’t? “Off you go. Let me do what I do,” Sister said. I couldn’t see the detail of her face, but for some reason, I felt there was a triumphant look there—but for the millionth time today, I didn’t know why she was acting so weird.
When I got back, Dale was already crashed, and I went straight to my tent, ready to call it a night. What I really needed was a cold shower. As I crawled into the sleeping bag, I heard them walking back into camp. That was a quick counseling session, I thought.
“Where are you going?” I heard Jenn ask.
“I sleep with Max.”
“Oh… but you’re a nun.”
“Yes?”
“Are you allowed to do that?”
“Yes.”
“Oh… well, good night, Susan,” Jenn said. “I mean, Sister Susan,” she corrected.
“Oh, Jenn?” Sister said.
“Yes?”
“Stay in your own bed tonight. We’ve become trigger happy lately, you know, with all the violence and Hogwogs out there?”
What a weird night, I thought, listening to their exchange. She opened the tent flap with a hard slap, but I pretended to be asleep.
Chapter 41
The next morning, I crawled out of the tent and stretched. I noticed Dale walking toward the woods, heading off to tend to his morning business. As the sister emerged behind me, Dale was startled to see her coming from my tent. He hesitated briefly, then kept moving, slinging me a wink as he passed by—man speak for you hit it, good job. Sister caught the brief exchange and was horrified—her facial expression contorted in a bizarre mixture of embarrassment and shame. What I wouldn’t give for a Polaroid snapshot of that face; it was priceless.
“Oh, my word, what was Dale thinking?” she asked.
I put on my best 007 accent. “The name's Max, Max Studly.” I pranced off, doing what she called my peacock strut.
It took Dale several trips and a few angry exchanges before Jennifer crawled from bed, foggy-eyed and wearing a scowl—indicating her opinion of greeting fi
ve thirty in the morning. I passed four MREs around the fire, frowning at how quickly they were dwindling, double fast now that we were four instead of two. I looked up, and Sister was glaring at me, eyebrows raised, nodding over at the other two. She knew what was going through my mind—dwindling MREs. I had no idea what was going through hers. Basically, another typical day for us.
As we were packing up our gear, she whispered, “I thought traveling in groups was more dangerous than traveling as a pair?” She was shoving things forcefully into her backpack.
“What’s up with you? Why have you been acting so schizoid?” I said.
She was shoving, pushing, and slamming various personal items into her bag. “I will not travel with a floozy. Get rid of her.” She was angry and not looking at me.
So that’s what this was all about—Jennifer. I chuckled softly. A woman’s a woman, even if she’s a nun. “It’s your fault. You invited them to travel with us,” I said.
“Traveling in a group will get us killed. You’re the fixer. Fix it,” she said, storming off.
I watched her go—that angry, rigid body reeking of illogical female emotion. “I’m not a fixer,” I said to myself. “I do contract work.”
*
It was a very uncomfortable day, for me at least. Sister walked the dirt road fast, setting a hefty pace. Dale was unable, and Jenn unwilling, to keep up. I hung in the middle of the pack. When there was too much distance between us, Sister would stop and wait, without turning around, moving forward once she heard our footsteps.
“Up ahead is Connelly Road, which acts as the unofficial boundary line into Georgia,” Dale said without fanfare.
I would think this would be cause for celebration, or at least a few high fives, but we passed over it without acknowledgement. For me, the air was thick with tension. Jenn was oblivious to it, talking up a storm—but I tuned out her yapping. I had no interest hearing about past boyfriends and party stories. Dale never made a peep, the heavy walking clearly taxing his out-of-shape body. I was focused on how to get rid of our new traveling companions. As five o’clock rolled around, just like yesterday, a catfight broke out between the ladies. Jenn was complaining her feet hurt, and she needed to stop—Sister argued we had plenty of sunlight left and needed to push onward. I brokered the same deal as before; we’d stop early and leave early. That pissed them both off, indicating to me a fair compromise.