Life With AlphaChapter 9 Beta Bayonetta
- 2 years ago
- 32
- 0
Future Perfect: Chapter One free porn video
As I was leaving the computer store, my dog, Biscuit, became nervous. Biscuit wasn't the Alpha in my pack, but he was my buddy. He usually came with me when I left the house, and he slept at the foot of my bed.
I could tell he was listening to something, so I was cautious as I approached the door. I looked outside but saw nothing.
I unsnapped the holster of my .357 Magnum and rested my hand on the butt of the gun. Biscuit woofed quietly, his head tilted to one side. He wasn't scared, just curious.
I pushed open the door as quietly as I could and made sure that it closed gently after we went through.
"Quiet now," I whispered to Biscuit.
I saw no other cars, heard nothing at all.
And then - laughter.
A child's laughter. A sound I hadn't thought ever to hear again. A sound that made me smile.
Another voice joined the first, and then, suddenly, was gone. I looked around but still saw nothing. I put the computer in the bed of the truck and decided to see if I could find the source of the laughter. I refastened the holster on the .357 and took my cane from the cab. I didn’t slam the door closed, but just pushed it, making as little noise as possible.
I had been on my own for several years. Not by choice. Not really.
I had always been happy to be alone. Before everyone got sick and died, I had never realized the "punishment" of solitary confinement. Now, I understood.
The world as I knew it ended in early 2020. Nobody had been sure what exactly went wrong. People began getting sick. It started with flu-like symptoms. After a couple of weeks, people lost consciousness and never woke up.
Now, ten years later, my world was empty.
Right before things went to hell, my wife and I had been looking to move. The kids were all out of the house, and finances were improving. We were considering buying a farm and had found an old hippie commune for sale that had several buildings, three wells, and garden plots already prepared. Nobody lived there.
When my wife died, I buried her in the backyard and left. I collected my guns, all of the food that I had, and made my way out to the commune.
Most people didn’t get buried. The stench in the city for the first couple of years was overwhelming. I kept to my new farm, grew my food, and learned how to survive.
Why didn't I get sick? I don't know. Before the talking heads all stopped talking, people were pointing fingers at China. Something in the food supply, they said. My wife and I ate almost exclusively organic food, most of it grown locally.
My wife, though, she liked to cheat. She would stop and get a hamburger here, or soda there—nothing major, but enough.
Whatever the cause, it didn't affect me. I hadn't seen anyone in quite a long time. I was tucked away here in the woods. I had looked for survivors, of course, but hadn't found many. The ones that I did find weren't eager for outside contact.
After the power had gone down, I liberated a fuel truck and parked it at the farm. I went and picked out a new pickup truck at the dealership and brought it home, as well as a Toyota Four Runner.
It sucked being alone, but it was nice that people had died in their beds rather than on the roads. I could go anywhere I wanted, pick up whatever I needed.
Of course, getting food was tricky.
I had worked in a market that sold organic food, and I made off with all of it that wasn't spoiled. I rigged up a freezer and a generator for the meat. It was a short-term solution, but it would keep me from starving while I learned to hunt and the garden came in.
I missed my wife and wondered about my kids. They all lived in other towns. After the phones and power had gone down, I thought about going to find them, to know for certain. I never did.
The first year was tough. Learning to hunt, and preserve meat, putting in the garden, and preserving all of that food, getting one of the houses liveable. It took up all of my time. I didn't have time to feel lonely.
The second year, I began collecting dogs. I trained them to help me hunt, and they protected the farm from the packs of feral dogs now roaming the countryside.
For the first two years, I avoided the city. The stench of decay was horrible. When I needed lumber or hardware, I kept to the main roads, got what I needed, and got out. I wasn't exactly hiding, but I wasn't advertising my presence either.
After ten years, survival was second nature. I had raided the libraries for field guides, anything on nature, gardening, or survival. I was good at it now and barely missed having human companionship.
Then, everything changed.
I had decided that I needed a new computer. I kept an electronic journal and was religious about keeping everything backed up.
I learned how to pick locks in my second year. When I could do that, I usually left the doors unlocked. Nature was taking over, but not as quickly as if I had broken windows in the stores that I used the most.
There were some clothing stores in a shopping area behind the Best Buy where I was. I headed that way and stayed close to the building, both to avoid the long grass and for cover. The drainage ditch behind the store had become a swamp: a habitat for all kinds of wildlife, including poisonous snakes. I wanted to avoid them.
As I reached the corner of the store, I knelt so that my head was just above the height of the grass. I peeked around the corner but saw only empty parking lots. I decided that I would have to use the road to avoid the ditch. If I stayed low, I should still be able to remain unseen.
Suddenly, there it was again! The sound of two children laughing. Biscuit perked his ears up and snapped his head to the left, looking at something that I couldn’t see.
Without a glance in my direction, he bounded away through the grass.
“Biscuit!” I hissed. “Heel!”
No good. Stupid dog. I should have brought Duke—he was an instinctive protector. Biscuit was an instinctive goofball.
I looked at the truck. I could get in and drive away. Leave the dog. That’s what I should do. Who knew what could happen?
I couldn’t leave the idiot behind. And did I want to miss the chance to see other people after all of these years? I stood up and walked down the sidewalk to the road.
Screams. Coming from the direction of the Kohls across the road. I started running that way. I didn’t think that anyone would be in danger from Biscuit, but someone could shoot him thinking he was wild.
“Biscuit!” I called, all hope of secrecy gone. “Heel!” I yelled as loudly as I could.
I saw three people in the dark doorway of the Kohl’s store. I had unlocked it several years ago to get some new sheets. They were nice.
It looked like a mother and two girls. They were inside the first set of doors while Biscuit stood outside the doors barking. I yelled at him, and he turned to look at me and continued barking.
Looking around, I slowed to a jog. There were no cars, and no other people visible. I looked at the ladies behind the door. The girls looked at me with amazement, the mother with fear.
I probably did look kind of scary. Ten years ago I had been forty-five, fighting a losing battle with my waistline, and had white hair salting the dark hair of my youth. Now, I was 185 lbs., lean and hard. My hair had far more white than black, and I usually pulled just the top half back to keep it out of my eyes. My beard was long and darker than my hair, but graying in streaks. I had the .357 strapped to my hip and carried a huge hickory cane. I was wearing a black T-shirt, hiking boots, and a homemade kilt.
I tried to comfort the mother by holding up one hand, palm out while I yelled at the dog. Finally, he came to my side and sat down.
“Good boy,” I said. “About damn time.”
I went down on one knee to pat his head and control him in case he leapt at the girls when they opened the door. I stood and slipped a leash around Biscuit’s neck.
The girls and their mother seemed reluctant to come out. I couldn’t blame them. I lifted a hand again, waved, and turned to leave. Biscuit fought but couldn’t get away.
“Wait!” a voice called.
I turned.
“Thank you,” the mother said.
“He’s harmless,” I replied. “Just a goofy dog.” Biscuit sat, and his tongue lolled to the side.
“We weren’t sure,” she said. “I’m Cassie. These are my daughters, Amanda and Bethany.”
“Cassie? Bethany?” I asked. I took a step forward and looked at her closely. “Cassie Wilkins?”
The shock on her face was evident. Both girls looked at her in surprise.
“Y...yes,” she said. “Do I know you?”
“Bruce,” I said. “Bruce Clevenger.”
“Bruce?” she repeated. Suddenly recognition dawned. “Bruce! Oh, my lord!” She ran the ten steps between us and hugged me. Cassie and I had worked together at the market. She and her husband, Kyle, had been starting a church and had several daughters.
I was taken aback at the sudden human contact after ten years of isolation. I stumbled back a step, but she didn’t let go.
Finally, she leaned back and stepped away.
“Bruce, you look so different that I would never have recognized you,” she said. “The hair and beard alone would do it, but you’re so dark and thin now!”
“Yeah,” I said, looking down. “I spend a lot of time outside” I have Native American blood, and it showed the more time I spent in the sun. It was late May and I was already dark, even after the long winter indoors.
“Your family?” she asked cautiously.
I just shook my head. “Didn’t make it.”
She touched my cheek. “I’m so sorry,” she said as tears filled her eyes.
“You, though,” I said gruffly, as I gestured to the girls, “you have people.”
“Yes!” she said, smiling and turning to her girls. “Amanda was born right before people got sick if you remember. Bethany was a few years old. She’s thirteen now.”
She looked back at me.
“My husband got sick,” she said. “He lived, but he was never quite the same. My older two daughters are still with us, Faith and Celeste.”
I remembered them. They would have been about six and ten when people got sick. I looked at Cassie and smiled. She looked the same, young and slender, strong but feminine. The lines in her face were perhaps deeper than they had been. Her dark blond hair showed some gray. She couldn’t be more than forty now.
“You folks have a farm somewhere?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Would you like to see it?”
I hesitated. I didn’t have anything pressing to do, but I hadn’t liked visiting people before. Now, after ten years seeing nobody, I was being invited over to a friend’s house.
“Please,” she said. “I’d love for you to see Kyle again. He has missed having male companionship.” She smiled.
I sighed and looked down at my dog. “Whaddya say Biscuit? Wanna go for a visit?”
The idiot looked up at me and barked.
“Is that a yes?” Cassie laughed.
“I guess so,” I said. “Should I go home and change? Maybe take a bath?”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Nobody cares.”
They ended up riding with me since they had walked here. Cassie and I sat in the cab of the truck, and the girls and Biscuit sat in the bed.
We talked on the way to their house. They had done something similar to me and moved into an empty farmhouse. They hadn’t been quite so lucky with their location, but they had made it work. Now, they had chickens, goats, a large garden plot, and each other.
Cassie was worried about her daughters. They were getting older and had no prospects for husbands. With no contact outside their farm, there was beginning to be tension in the house. She didn’t see a very bright future for them.
They had been pragmatic in their daughter's education, each choosing a different discipline. Cassie had been a Biochemistry major in college, and her husband had studied Philosophy. Their daughters were studying things like Electronics, Medicine, Engineering, and Languages.
They were hoping to make contact with people in other parts of the world and, eventually, rebuild some kind of society.
“Wow,” I said. “You guys have a plan. I’ve just been living day to day, year to year.”
“Being by yourself,” she said. “You didn’t have anyone to plan for.”
I looked at her and could see the tears in her eyes again.
“I’m sorry about your wife. I liked her.”
“Thanks,” I said. “So, have you heard anything from the outside world? Is it like this everywhere?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “It looks like an attack was aimed specifically at the U.S. No idea what’s happened to the rest of the world. There could have been different attacks on other countries.”
“Wonderful,” I said.
“We’re ready to build a shortwave radio,” Casse said. “Celeste has been studying and understands the concepts. Now she just needs to find the components. Fifty years ago, that would have been easy. Now....”
“Radio Shack?” I suggested.
“More about buying cell phones than building electronics,” she said. “They’ll have some of what we need, hopefully.”
The drive took us about ten minutes. When we pulled into the driveway, I parked close to the road. I could see the house on top of a hill, trees in front, an orchard to one side. I didn’t want to startle Kyle by driving right up to the house, so I had the girls pile out and run up to the house with Biscuit.
Cassie and I walked at a more sedate pace up the driveway to the front door.
“This is lovely,” I said.
“Thanks,” she said, squinting across the fields around them. “It’s nice.”
The farmland was recovering from decades of pesticides and monocropping, but it was taking a while. After ten years, the original crops were all but gone. There were grasses and other “weeds” or herbs growing now. Wild roses had crept in. Hawthorn and other shrubby trees too. In a century, the forest would truly be regrowing.
Kyle came out on the porch, a shotgun cradled under his arm.
“Cass?” he called.
“It’s okay, honey,” she said. “An old friend. Remember Bruce Clevenger from the market?”
We shook hands, and I could immediately tell that Kyle hadn’t recovered from being sick. His hair was longer and scruffier than it used to be, but he had no beard to speak of. He still wore his glasses, but he squinted at me as though he were having trouble seeing me.
“Bruce,” he said, his voice a little rough. “You made it.”
“Yes,” I said. I looked at Cassie. She was looking at her husband, love and concern written on her face. With a sigh, I added, “Just me, though.”
He nodded, looking down, and put his hand on my shoulder.
“Come inside. Would you like some tea?” Kyle asked, opening the door.
“I’m sorry for my appearance,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting to visit anyone.”
Kyle turned to look at me and laughed.
“No!” he said. “I don’t suppose you were.”
We walked through a dark living room, strewn with books and papers. There were laptops, calculators, and all sorts of other educational paraphernalia spread about. As we went through to the kitchen, I saw that Amanda was at the stove, putting on the kettle while Bethany added wood to the fire. The girls must have run around to the back door.
“Have a seat,” Kyle said, gesturing to the kitchen table.
“Thanks,” I said, sliding a chair out and sitting down, making sure that my kilt covered everything it was supposed to.
I heard scuffling noises coming from upstairs. I assumed the other two girls were up there. Biscuit was sitting at the back door, watching the chickens scratch around the yard.
Cassie was going through cabinets, pulling things out, and eventually had the table full of raisins, cheese, nuts, and some apples from the cellar.
“Help yourself,” she said. She put a pitcher of cold tea on the table. “The tea is raspberry leaves and violets.”
We talked about what they had done to survive, how they had found the farm, and how things were getting easier. I told them about my place, and how I lived close to the old reservoir and kept part of the beach clear. I was able to swim regularly with my dogs during the summer.
While we were talking, I heard the two older girls come downstairs. When they walked into the kitchen, I was stunned. These weren’t the girls that I remembered, but lovely young women.
I stood, and Cassie said, “Celeste, Faith, this is Bruce Clevenger. He and I used to work together. You probably don’t remember him.”
“Mr. Clevenger,” the older girl, Celeste, said as she shook my hand. I felt a fluttering in my heart as this beauty held my hand. She was taller than her mother, slightly built, with lovely blue eyes and pale pink lips.
“Um, well,” I said. “I think just ‘Bruce’ will do.”
I turned to Faith, who was shorter with darker hair and brown eyes. She ignored my hand, stepped forward, and hugged me. I felt awkward. Two hugs in one day after a decade with no physical contact. I felt my body responding and pulled back from the girl.
“I do remember you, Bruce,” Faith said. “I was shy, but you were always very nice to me.”
“Oh,” I said, sitting down to hide my condition. “You were both good girls.”
“They still are,” Kyle said with a smile. “Though not really ‘girls’ anymore. Celeste just turned twenty and Faith is almost seventeen.”
“Almost eighteen,” Faith corrected her father.
“Really?” he said. Then to me, “I can never keep track.”
“Well, if you ever want to visit me,” I said, “you’re more than welcome.”
I gave them a map to my farm and warned them about the dogs.
“It would take us forever to get there,” Cassie said. “We don’t have a car.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“The gasoline is all contaminated with water,” Kyle said. “And there’s no electricity to pump it.”
“I have a tanker truck parked at my farm,” I said. “I siphon out the gas that I need and filter it through a chamois skin. It absorbs the water and filters any rust or dirt particles.”
“Could you help us set something like that up?” Faith asked. “It would help with the generator.”
“Sure,” I said. “Anytime.”
“I don’t know if I want that much gasoline on the farm,” Cassie said.
“It’s a risk,” I said, nodding. “Why don’t I come out and pick you up tomorrow and you can see the setup?”
Everyone looked at each other around the table. I had been nervous about coming here, but they were just as cautious about leaving their farm.
“Well,” Cassie said, “I would like to see the reservoir again.”
Kyle looked at me and said, “Sure, Bruce. That would be great.”
“Great,” I said. “We’ll have a big lunch. If anyone wants to swim, we can stop and get swimming suits on the way.”
I thanked them for their hospitality and stood to leave. The younger girls, Amanda and Bethany, had put their dogs away so that they would leave Biscuit alone. He and I headed to the truck, and Cassie and the girls escorted us while Kyle, Celeste, and Faith waited on the porch.
“I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again,” Cassie said.
“You too,” I said, feeling awkward.
“Will we all fit in your truck tomorrow?” she asked.
“We could, I suppose,” I said. “But I have a better one we can use. I won’t bring the dog either.”
She knelt down and let Biscuit lick her face.
“He’s such a sweetie!” she said.
“He’s an idiot,” I said. “But he’s my best friend.”
Cassie looked up at me with sympathy. Maybe pity. She stood and gave me a hug.
“Maybe we can be friends again,” she said. “I’m sure that you have loads that you could teach the girls.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That would be great.” I hoped that I sounded convincing. Truthfully, I was used to being alone and didn’t like change in my routine. Still, the girls were lovely and would be great to have around. Even the young ones, who were so full of energy and fun.
Cassie squeezed my hand briefly. I think she could tell that I was overwhelmed.
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” she said. Amanda and Bethany gave Biscuit one last kiss each on his head and said goodbye.
The dog and I got into the truck and backed out of the driveway, waving at everyone.
Elissa
- 14.06.2021
- 11
- 0
- Category:
- Novels
The Shiny LadiesChapter 12 Ramone
- 2 years ago
- 40
- 0
Tenchi Muyo All Good Things Chapter 18 Ahh Kiyone
- 1 year ago
- 45
- 0
