Arcturus Syndrome Ch. 08

Author's Note: all characters are over the age of 18. This is a work of fiction: any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidence. Locations, while based on real-world places, are largely imagined.

Recap: Scientists in State College PA (led by Dr. Emily McKinnon) are trying to understand the source of a deadly plague that has left a small town devestated. A few survivors (Katherine, Imani, Thorvald, Amy, others), are huddled in military shelters, while the children of the town are holed up in the high school, being cared for by the few surviving members of the most recent graduating class led by Melissa. Meanwhile Carl (by far the oldest survivor of this ravaging condition) and Ruth are attempting to escape the quarantine zone.

>>> Woodward Township, PA, around midnight

The only vehicles on the road were military, but they were easy to avoid. The military might have stealth technology, but they didn't use it for their trucks. You could hear them coming before you even saw the headlights.

It took them a while, and a couple of wrong turns, but they found the cluster of farm houses.

All dark.

"Asleep? Or evacuated?" Ruth asked.

"My money's on evacuated."

On the third try, they found one that was unlocked.

"You wouldn't believe how people live out here," Carl said. "Can you imagine evacuating your house and leaving it unlocked?"

"Do they leave the keys in the car also?"

"Mmm probably not that, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. I need some dry clothes."

"Oh my god, a shower!"

"No hot water, though," Carl warned. "They could be monitoring the electrical grid. Don't do anything that might alert them we're here."

It was a warm, humid, July night. A cold shower was refreshing. And clean clothes, even if a size too small, made Carl feel considerably more human.

And then Ruth came out of the bathroom wearing a towel. The house had some nightlights, just enough to see her mind-blowing curves, her straight blonde hair, bright as corn-silk, her blue eyes gleaming in the dark.

Clean, a few minutes of rest, and Carl had felt the bounce come back to his stride.

She crossed the hall, raiding for clothes.

Carl followed her. Catching her just inside the room, he pulled the towel off her, and muffled her sound of surprise with a kiss, his hands roaming down her back, gripping her ass, pushing her down onto the bed.

She struggled, but not to get away. She grappled him, wrapping her arms around him, clutching his thighs with her legs, pulling him against her.

His cock didn't take long to catch up. He felt himself swelling, and in a few breaths, he could feel her slippery juices coating the underside of him as he ground against her. He pinned her arms up over her head and floated the palm of his hand down over the inviting fulness of her breasts, the gentle curve of her belly, the flare of her hips. He lifted himself off her, enough to slide his hands down over her pussy, enjoying the crinkly sensation of her landing strip, and the smooth skin of her lips, wet and swollen for him.

"More of that," she commanded, and he obediently teased her with his fingertips.

Carl had never considered himself a great lover. Quite frankly, he hadn't had a lot of opportunity. Sex, for him, was an itch to scratch. It was more exciting for him to feel wanted than to actually do the deed. The pleasure of his partner was of no particular interest; he assumed they had their own itch to scratch, their own need for validation, and if they wanted anything out of it, it was on them to find it.

But the sensations were so damned good now, he couldn't ignore how amazing her soft pussy lips felt, how intoxicating the scent of her was, how the very shape of her seemed to mesmerize him, to put him out of his own thoughts and into a different experience entirely. And that was just his fingers!

Carl loved the feeling of his resurgent strength, the sense of power that hummed through his body in this moment. Even as he felt that strange warping of the universe that left him unable to resist her, he felt his own desire radiating like a new kind of heat from his body. He felt it flowing through his hand, his fingers. He felt his cock rising from his body like it was a beast all its own, latched into his nervous system, sending him excitement, pleasure, waves of sensation he had never noticed before. Had they been there all along, or was this part of the "infection." If so, he had a moral duty to get this blessing out of Philipsburg.

But as the erotic thrill intensified, these musings fell away. All his thoughts dropped away.

Ruth was grunting, snarling at him, her hands reaching down trying to grab his cock, to pull him into her.

Finally he relented and let her rub the head of his cock all over her pussy. She began straight up rubbing one out, using the head of his cock, wildly jerking it back and forth over her clit. Her breath accelerated, coming quicker and quicker, her moans short, quick, urgent.

He felt her tip over that edge. It burst through him like a floodgate released, and he realized the flood metaphor was not wrong. She cried out, arched her back, and a massive gush of fluid came splashing from her.

He took that opportunity to plunge himself into her, right into the root, and instantly a second wave overtook her. He rode this one as well, as she swirled her hips wildly, clawing at him and crying out.

He tilted her hips up so he get a longer angle across her body, leaned his shoulder in against her face. "Lick me," he said.

Gratefully, hungrily, she began lapping his sweaty skin. She even lifted his arm, licking across his armpit.

He felt his own thirst, his own need, and did the same. They were just out of the shower after all. He drew his tongue across her armpit, tasting the extreme saltiness of her body, drinking it into his body, feeling the strength intensify through him, the thirst recede a little, and everything come into focus.

"Take me," she said.

He held her ankles, one in each hand, and began to slide in to her and out of her. He began with long, slow, smooth strokes, because that was what felt best. And when he was all the way inside her, feeling the heat and slipperiness gripping the whole of his shaft, he held it there for a moment, just lost in the sensation of it. He might take the moment to really grind his pelvis into her, feeling it swirl and stir his cock inside her.

But as he got into his rhythm, he began to pick up the pace, pulling himself all the way out, enough so the thick head of his cock was just caught by her entrance, and then plunging in, feeling her resistance yield, opening to him, again and again.

Ruth looked up at him; or perhaps into him. She gasped, groaned, kicked her heels to move her hips against him when he was deep, clutching at him, pulling at him when he was shallow, gasping, grasping, moaning, "More."

Anytime he felt the slightest stab of a headache, he put his lips and tongue to her legs, lapping at her salty skin, and the pure sensation of perfect health would quickly return.

Finally he dropped her legs, pulling her arms up over her head, pinning her wrists with one hand, while the other hand wrapped around her throat. Not to choke her, really, just to hold her in a place of maximum vulnerability while he plunged into her, slamming his cock into her.

She loved it. She gasped for air. She made inhuman sounds of pleasure. She bucked her hips. She twisted and thrashed beneath him as he took her. And he took her hard, up until the point where he felt the darkness of that climax stirring, almost like it was uncoiling within him.

As he climbed that last peak, he felt he was carrying her with him. Both of them staring into each other, snarling, grappling while her body opened to him and he penetrated deeply, deeply into her.

When he came, he held himself all the way in, feeling his whole body contract, releasing wave after wave into her, his belly, his ass, his balls squeezing hard to fill her with everything he had.

And finally it was done. He fell on her. He felt much better than on any previous occasion, not sure he even needed the powerade. He lapped at her skin, replenishing his salt from hers, and encouraged her to do the same.

In the silence of the farmhouse, they lay for a little while floating together.

She broke the silence. "Get us some of that antifreeze will you? Our salt is good, but I'm still thirsty as hell. And now I'm going to need another shower."

Carl rolled off the bed, padding naked through the house. He pulled the drinks out of his pack. Good news: it would be lighter now. Bad news: this would leave only four bottles. He listened for a moment... no trucks, no helicopters. Then back to the room. He tossed her a bottle even as he polished his own off.

"I feel pretty good about not sleeping tonight now. Amazing how restorative that is."

"I thought you guys were supposed to fall asleep after."

"I'll be honest, that's what I would do. But I feel like a million bucks, as they used to say."

"I forget you're an old man; ten million is the going rate now."

"I forget too sometimes. Let's rinse off, find ourselves some car keys, and get out of here. I have one other thing to do before we go."

Twenty minutes later he picked up the phone. A landline! Carl hadn't seen one of these in a decade. He wondered if Ruth ever had.

"Isn't that going to alert them that we're here?"

"Yes, but trust me, this is going to be worth it."

There was still no cell service, and no data here, but his phone still had a number on it. A very useful, important number.

He dialled it from the kitchen phone. No answer. He dialed again. No answer. He dialed a third time. No answer. On the fourth attempt, a sleepy voice picked up.

"This better be an emergency."

"Scoop of the century, pal. Iranian terrorists have a nuke. Small town PA, place called Philipsburg. Don't know why the are there, I assume something has gone wrong with a bigger plan. But the government has it under wraps. Go ahead and look into it. Should take you 60 seconds to sniff out the cover-up. I can't stay on the line, don't have any more details anyway."

He hung up.

"What the fuck, a nuke?"

"Look, he wouldn't believe me if I told the truth. But that he'll believe, and you can bet the feds have this under massive lockdown. That phone call is going to create so much trouble for them, they are going to forget about us entirely. Much, much bigger fish to fry."

Ruth looked at him with some curiosity.

"You're not as stupid as you look."

"I'm pretty stupid."

"Yeah, you are pretty stupid. But trust me, you look even dumber."

"Hopefully you were smart enough to find some car keys?"

"I was. Now, how do we not get caught driving on these roads?"

"I know a back way. We go slow. We go careful. We go dark. And if we run into anyone, we ditch it and get back to the woods. But trust me, even if we don't get all the way by car, this is going to cut down on the walking, and I am bored of walking."

>>> Philipsburg, PA, High School, around midnight

Melissa had sent scrawny Robby off to see Janet. Mainly to get him out of her hair.

Once he had left, she had a hard time letting go of her curiosity. What would Robby do? Was he just wanting to get bossed around, or did he really want something more? How sick was Robby? Was he just a little weird? He was definitely weird, and that was nothing new. But was he sick? Was he the same kind of disgusting pervert that her own brother had been? Her own mother?

Of course, that thought brought the images back to her mind. Melissa had watched. She had woken in the night, and she had watched the whole thing. Or the end anyway. But it had gone on plenty long enough. She tried to blank the memory out of her mind, but the images returned. She felt her hand reaching under the elastic of her sweatpants, and she yanked it up, put it on the desk. Both her hands on the desk.

Because Melissa was not that kind of pervert. She had just been surprised. Anyone would be. She had been in shock, that was all. And when the moment had come, when she saw her mother and her brother punished by God before her very eyes, she had known. She was being saved for a reason. She was a true servant of the lord.

She tried to keep her thoughts on prayer. On God. On protecting the children.

But sitting here was no good. Just sitting doing nothing. Idle hands are the devil's playground.

Melissa walked the dim and silent halls. The rooms were all dark, quiet. Mostly, people were sleeping. Some kids were whispering, and a few quietly crying. It reinforced her nerve. Protect the children!

Most of the leadership team were asleep also, thank goodness. They needed their rest.

But at Janet's group... Janet was not there. Surprise surprise, she knew that ugly girl was going to be derelict. Fortunately, her group was no more unruly than any other.

Melissa checked on Robby's group, knowing exactly what she would see, and her worst suspicions were confirmed. He wasn't there either.

Where had those two gotten to?

Melissa tracked to the social studies lounge, where she had run into Robby earlier that day.

Light sprayed out across the dark hallway from under the door, and from the small window in the door.

But she heard them, even down the hallway.

Hissing, whispering, laughing... moaning.

She knew what that moaning sound meant, now. She wished she didn't. She would have to exile them. They were most assuredly not fit to be in the high school.

She imagined herself striding up to the lounge, throwing open the door, and casting them out, like an Old Testament prophet. But she wanted to be sure. She didn't want to act rashly, so she crept up, and leaned on the cinderblock wall outside, listening.

Janet moaned, long and a little ragged. She was trying to keep it quiet, but she wasn't succeeding. Worse, Melissa could hear a wet sucking, slapping sound. She didn't want to imagine what that was, but she couldn't stop herself. She cursed her family for staining her innocence.

Still, she didn't burst in.

Maybe she would let God take care of this lapse. If only she could witness their sin, the better to convict them in her heart, and let God convict them with the necessary consequences of their poor choices.

Melissa stepped up to the little window in the lounge door, and peeked in.

The scene of depravity shocked her all over again. Robby was sitting in the very chair she had been in earlier, with his pants around his ankles. Janet was kneeling astride him gently rocking her hips against him. She had no pants on at all, and her shirt and bra were pushed up around her neck. Her breasts were brazenly swaying.

Melissa turned away, nauseous. Quite literally: she thought she might vomit.

She got herself under control, however, and turned to break up their little party.

Remembering she had intended to let God take care of the matter, she held herself back.

She wondered if they were nearly done. She hoped so. She thought it would be very inspiring to see God's hand at work again.

She leaned back against the wall, trying to expunge that image from her mind, but the sounds, the wet slurping sounds were relentless. And Janet's quiet, stifled little gasps, her little squeaks, her little whimpers, the sound of her pleasure stirred very uneasily in Melissa. The heat of the hallway was growing intolerable. Apparently they didn't run the air conditioning at night, probably to save money, but still. She should have asked Cody to figure that out.

She just couldn't help herself. Feeling the pitch of Janet's cries rising, Melissa had to sneak back to the window, to see the final moment, the moment that would be God's glory.

They were in the same position, and Melissa watched Janet's movements, lewd and lascivious. Animalistic. Like rutting dogs. Grotesque. Janet was rocking her hips back and forth, swirling them around. Melissa could see Robby's testicles! They seemed very large, flopping around beneath Janet's butt.

Sometimes Janet would lift her hips, more bouncing than rocking, and Melissa could see Robby's thing sliding out of her, and into her. It was enormous. It was frightening to see. She understood that babies came out of there, that a woman's body was very... adaptable. But Robby... why, his penis must be as big as his own forearm! And she couldn't even see all of it. It must be an optical illusion. Such a skinny guy, with such a monstrous organ, it was like a circus freak from the Roman forums.

Melissa reached her hand down under her clothes. Would she be able to fit such a thing?

The rush of warmth at her own fingers touching herself there, and discovering how soaking wet she was startled her, and she yanked her hand back.

This is how temptation works! She clenched her teeth, and watched the concluding moments of this abhorrent spectacle, keeping her hands very carefully on the wooden door. Even so, she couldn't stop her own hips rocking to Janet's rhythm.

She followed Janet's motions with her gaze, practically feeling that building tension in the air, Janet's squeaky voice grunting as she moved her hips wildly, slamming herself down on Robby.

Not quite all the way, Melissa noted. Janet couldn't take him completely. She didn't even stop to think why that gave her some sense of satisfaction.

And then it hit them both. Even Robby made sounds now, a growling, grunting sound, it sounded kind of angry even. Robby grabbed Janet's hips, and he was moving her body. Her breasts were flopping with each thrust. Janet threw her head back, her back arched, her breasts jiggling, her legs trembling, she seemed to gasp for air. She scrabbled at Robby, and then collapsed to the floor, twitching.

Robby sat still, his own body taut.

Melissa watched, transfixed with some horror she could not name: another large glob of white fluid jetted from Robby's enormous member, splashing on his belly. He sagged into the chair, seemingly senseless.

Janet had come to stillness in an awkward, unnatural position.

Melissa came to her senses.

She burst into the room, and ran to Robby.

"Quick," she said. "Drink this." She handed him one of the military drinks.

She knelt beside Janet and felt for a pulse. She wasn't quite sure where to find a pulse, but she didn't find one, and in any case, the salt crystals were forming, growing before her eyes.

With a strange numbness in her own body, Melissa did something unexpected, unexplainable. The whole situation was beyond bizarre, but Robby hadn't died. This changed everything. She wasn't sure how yet, but in her state of confusion, she used this burgeoning power of authority to take action, knowing she could sort it out with God later.

She mixed another powdered energy drink; thank goodness they were using these lounges for storage! Thank goodness they had a sink for tea, or whatever teachers drank.

She brought him the energy drink, and had him gulp it down. He still seemed to be gathering his wits. That monstrous member had sagged, limp across his lap, but still half hard, and dripping with his... Melissa sought for the right word. Ejaculate.

Without letting herself think about it, she reached down and scooped a dollop off Robby's belly, where his last spurt had landed, and turning away from him, took it to her mouth. The taste was incredible! Salty, yes, a little bitter. It was not ice cream! But it was incredible in its own way, and just as she somehow knew it would, it sent a lightning jolt of aliveness through her. She reached for a dishtowel from by the sink and tossed it to Robby.