The Eros Plague Epoch Pt. 08

After the mess of my encounter with Allie, I had waited in the water for her to be long gone, and slunk inside, hating myself. The fact that she'd accepted it as a side effect of Freddie, giving me an out and finishing me off ultimately made it a thousand times worse.

Wendy sat on the couch she'd slept on the last couple nights reading a book by the fading light of sunset. "Hey stranger, listen, I was wondering if you'd be cool with me taking the other room upstairs. This is your family's place, so you own it n..."

She looked up and stared at me, taking in my body language.

"Oh."

I started to my parent's room, stopped at the mouth of the hall, and turned to head past the bathroom to the bedroom at the corner of the house.

"Yeah, you take my old room."

Wendy pursued me to the short hallway just past the bathroom, "Cal, did something happen?"

I stopped, standing in the hall a few feet away from Wendy, frustrated once again that I had no attraction to. That lack of compatibility had led to my behaviour, and I cursed myself. As the younger sister of my first girlfriend, and a doctor who'd worked the camps at the start of Freddie, she had more insight than most into me and what just occurred.

"I couldn't control myself," I whispered, "it was like... it was like an animal took me over."

Understanding crossed Wendy's face, "ohhh shit, okay, did you..." she roughly penetrated a balled fist with her index finger.

"No. When Katy called her, she was able to snap me out of it."

"Okay," Wendy sighed, "okay, that's a relief." Walking toward me, she put her hands together and looked up at me pleading, "I don't really know either of you that well, but I think it's probably a good idea to give her some space for a couple of days. She feels it too, so-"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Wendy put her hands up in a calming posture, "whoa, whoa, just take a sec."

I looked down, realizing I'd stepped forward and was balling my fists. Again, shame washed over me, "fuck. Fuck fuck fuck," I cursed myself.

"Listen, Cal," Wendy stood still as I stepped back from her, "this is something I've seen. Survivor males get aggressive and kind of crazy if they go too long without, well, 'carnal attention,' if you get me," she finger quoted.

"Allie said she'd seen it too."

Wendy brightened, "okay, that's good! She understands what happened, at least."

Tiredness was beginning to seep into my eyes and I rubbed my face, drawing my hand down it. "What did you mean by 'she feels it too,' Wendy?"

"She told me that you smell like evergreen trees," she whispered more quietly than before, "survivor women who smell that kind of thing are identifying a physical match. The smell usually connects to a memory of feeling happy or safe. Men usually smell something sweet, like berries or fruit, something they want."

I stared at the floor, "goodnight, Wendy." I turned and walked away, leaving Wendy standing in the hall.

I lay down in the bed that way back when was a double bed for my grandparents, but had been upgraded to a gigantic king for my parents. I felt lost in it, a tiny island in a sea of shame. I thought about what Wendy had said, smelling of lemons and vinegar. To me, Danni had smelled like mangoes, and Allie smelled like peaches. I drifted to sleep, dreaming of fruit, and them.

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The next morning, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, still hating myself. I'd crept to the bathroom, narrowly avoiding Wendy coming downstairs. I could hear the women in the main room, the sound of Katy playing with Bailey's Legos. It should have made me smile, her stories that she told as she built structures and cars, but it only fed my self-loathing.

I thought of Bailey, I had to get to the house the bandits were holed up in and make a play to get to him. Every time I got distracted, something went wrong, or had already. I couldn't risk him any more than I had already. The smell of warming food was starting to creep under the door, distracting me. Bailey hung heavy in my mind. It was becoming a theme that day.

That was it, that was my play. I knew where they were, and if Allie and Katy's arrival hadn't distracted me the day before, I'd've gotten to them already. After that? Get back to Danni, figure things out from there. A knock at the bedroom door.

"Calvin? Its me. I'm coming in."

Allie slipped into the room with a small tray of food in her hand. Just simple things, canned, preserves, but a full belly made such a difference. We were going to have to address the food situation soon, but it seemed like she had something else on her mind. A soft frown crossed her wide forehead, creasing her pretty features. She wore an old button-down of mine that was tied off at her rib cage, and a pair of her jeans that I recognized as 'the-ones-that-made-her-ass-look-incredible,' which was all of them.

"Allie, please, you don't have to-"

"Stop," she put the plate down on the end of the bed, cocking her hip to me and slicing her hand through the air to shut me down. "Just be quiet. Allow me to say this."

Allie sat down next to me, her hip nearly touching mine, and she leaned over me, closed her eyes and inhaled quickly three times, then once slowly, a gentle close-lipped smile crossing her face. "I knew it." Opening her eyes, she showed me her teeth as the smile widened. "I still like you," her smiled faded and she sat up, "but I am also angry with you. So angry with you."

"I know," I admitted as I sat up, "you're right to be. I can't tell you how sorry-"

She slapped my chest.

"Stop apologizing! You've done it enough," she looked down and leaned toward me, pressing her left shoulder to mine, so that we were in parallel contact. "You weren't in control of yourself, and I lost control of myself too. I knew I wasn't ready for more, but I needed it so much. You, I needed you, and I got lost in my happiness that you're alive. And then you scared me. You scared me so badly, Calvin."

Lightly, gingerly, I placed my hand on her shoulder. She didn't flinch, but she did move her head to watch that the hand didn't creep further, "I know. I can't ever apologize enough to you for that, Allie."

She curled into my chest to hug me, wrapping her arms around my waist, her face pressed to my shoulder, "I will take that," she told me in her gentle Russian accent.

Sitting up, Allie stayed on the bed, looking at me with that sweet smile of hers. I felt a bit better, but I was scared too. That I'd missed my chance to find Bailey, that I'd permanently damaged my relationship with Allie. She'd relieved some of the pressure the night before, but it was barely a drop in the bucket, I could feel that angry animal inside me.

"We need to talk about this," she reached out, tapping my rising member on the head.

"Cripes, Allie, don't wake it."

She pulled the sheet down from my waist, my cock springing from under it. Allie stared, taking in my thickness and length. Her eyes moving over the skin made the tingle in my belly grow.

"I can't let you get so... overheated, Calvin. It's dangerous." She reached out, taking my cock in hand, and began to gently twist and stroke. "I'm going to help you with it. If you can follow my rules; You'll lay down and put your hands behind your head. That way, I can help you be calm."

"Allie, what are you doing?"

She squeezed my shaft hard, almost painfully. "I didn't ever imagine I'd want to be with a man again." She pumped, her thumb working the tip. "I always liked both, and Marcel was so...." She looked away, "you know. Women just seemed safer, and easier to trust after."

I tried to breath slowly, control myself, but it was Allie, and she was working my rod firmly, steadily, unfazed by last night's events, smiling as she watched the precum bubble from my tip. "Allie... oh goddamn... it's okay."

"No, it's not," she told me, turning to look at my cock, her hand wrapped tightly at the edge of my purple helmet. She arched her head away from me looking at straining erection critically.

"I made you my boyfriend without realizing, and I let you think I was not an option to you so I wouldn't have to deal with your feelings. I got you for free, I let you become a father figure to my daughter." She bent forward, pursing her lips and gently dripped a long stream of saliva onto my cock, smoothing her ministrations.

"Ahh, Allie," I panted as the warm fluid of her mouth slipped over my cockhead, coating it in her, "oh man, is that an apology?"

Allie shook her head gently, sliding the pads of her fingers around my tip in a circle, slipping them down and back steadily. I lost my balance, falling back to my pillows. Allie stroked harder, my cock slick with her saliva. "No, but I am acknowledging that our friendship was unfair to you. I should have been honest, but I also honestly didn't know what I was doing."

"I... mother of... I forgive you," I stammered, "just please, fuck..." My balls had begun to boil, and Allie grabbed them, rolling them in her palm like marbles, pumping my shaft faster, slipping her hand up and down my cock from stem to root. I was at her mercy, laying back, my hips arching up to her.

"You don't need to," she panted, staring fixedly at my prick as it twitched in her grasp, "I don't want forgiveness from you."

"C-fffuck, can I touch you?"

"No, not right now." She squeezed tighter, working my glans like a tube of toothpaste, milking my cum, my dam broke. Spurting jizz splattering onto my belly and the sheets, once again coating her hands in the copious fluid shooting into the air in front of Allie as her eyes lit up, flashing as my cum made a glittering arc in the air before her. "No touching me, not unless I ask you to, Calvin."

I stared at Allie as she squeezed the last drops from my lurching prick, pursing her lips, blowing gently on my tip as she ran her fingers through my cum dripping down my shaft. Her eyes sparkled, she licked her lips, and I could feel her hips grinding on the bed. She flicked her eyes up, seeing that I was watching, locking eyes with me for a moment. I thought she might bend to take me in her mouth, but she shook her head, blinking, and got up, walking to the door without a word.

Absent-mindedly, she sucked her fingers.

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I eventually emerged from the bedroom, putting the empty plate in the sink, and sat down to talk to Allie and Wendy about my plans. The last thing in the world that I wanted was to put them at risk, especially now that Katy was here.

Wendy knew a thing or two about hunting rifles, even though she didn't much like the idea of using one, and Allie agreed to hang onto my.38, despite her loathing of it. I couldn't blame her, she'd seen enough violence just yesterday.

We went over some basics of keeping the place safe, simple defensive steps, mainly how to make it look like a poor target.

I pulled the old fishing boat out of the storage behind the older guest cabin, got it in the wate. With a little help, we got the old motor on it to. I slung my gear back in the keel. Hugging everyone, I promised Katy I'd be back, hopefully with Bailey. They'd liked each other a lot last summer, playing well and chattering away with little kid stories of adventure. I hoped I'd see that again.

Allie grabbed me as I climbed into the boat, "come back, please promise me? No matter what, you come back, Calvin."

"I promise."

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I slipped north along the west shore, keeping a careful eye out for other boats. The north bluff was a good forty minutes up the lake on the old 6 horsepower motor.

As the bluff came into sight, I could see the black and chrome monstrosity glinting as the sun hit its peak. The long set of stairs that went from the house at the edge of the rock face down to the water switched back and forth with a large deck halfway down, and a huge dock at the bottom where a few small runabouts were tied up.

I ended up pulling ashore at a sizablel island that looked out north-east, peaking at a long upward hill on the same range of rocks that made up the northern bluffs. A small footbridge went from the shoreline to the island, large enough for a car to cross.

I stashed the boat in a quiet little cove on the southern side of the island near the east end, covering it over with brush, heading up the hill. It was a long piece of land, at least three cabins on it.

At the high peak of the island was a place built on low stilts that looked like it was going to fold over on itself, probably hadn't been kept up regularly in years. It'd once been owned by a family, the Newtons, I thought, who'd made good on car dealerships. I didn't know any of them, but the rumour was they went bust during the tough times in 2008. From the look of it, the place was close to folding over on itself.

I skirted by the clearing around the house, staying at the edge of the thick woods as they thinned to the peak, looking for a good spot to set up, finding a hollow with ntree cover that would do nicely... but there was a sleeping bag there, a little Coleman lantern, and some energy bar wrappers. Someone nearby.

"Oh shit," a female voice can from nearby. Spinning to see the woman, I caught a glimpse of bouncing curly black hair as a long leg in dark green leggings disappeared into the thickets of trees.

"Hell," I muttered. I was slipping as I got older, I dropped my gear and I took off after her at a run.

She was fast. Really fast. I only caught glimpses of a light slim frame, athletic, a bobbing mass of dark curls, she slipped in between the trees with ease and was quick on her feet.

Meanwhile, trying to cover ground as fast as I could, my big Scottish frame was a battering ram smashing through the trees. She was clearly heading for the bridge. She didn't want to alert the bandits any more than I did, her perfect ass working as it pumped and she leapt nimbly over fallen branches and rocks without a sound.

We'd made it to the middle property in the island, most of the downhill behind us, and she'd pulled ahead, getting to a clearing near the house, stopping briefly to look behind her. She wore tight olive-green athletic gear, no stupid swirls and bright colours, but her creamy dark brown skin shone.

She looked up the hill toward where I was smashing my way through the trees. A small, broad, nose flared, breathing hard, but not winded, her wide lips open as she judged her situation. A modest breast heaved steadily.

"Fuckin' whore," a man in black shouted, leaping from the peak of the house's deck, slamming into the woman bodily. She yelped and struggled even as she smashed into the ground, scratching and snarling like a jungle cat. I kept my pace, bursting into the clearing as the mystery man, much larger than the woman, finally got her to the ground face down. As he gained control, he pinned her arms to her back painfully.

I was ten feet away when he pulled a familiar looking Colt Python from his belt, holding up to the sky as he hissed, "I let you go and you repay me killing my people?"

She turned her head, faced pressed into the arid dirt around the small cabin, eyes full of rage as she bucked against him, desperately trying to break his hold, "I shoulda fucked you and put you on the truck," the man cursed as he cocked the hammer, he was so focused on her, he didn't see what was coming.

My foot collided with the side of the son of a bitch's head at full speed. He flew off the woman, my grandfather's pistol bouncing in the dirt, blood blossoming from his temple as he rolled, his dark clothes dusty from the soil. Nearby, the woman leapt up, ready to run, but I caught her around the waist as she took off, hurling her to her back as I stood, she slammed into the dirt at my feet. The wind knocked out of her, she gasped and sputtered.

"Do. Not. Move," I ordered pointing to her panic-stricken face. I strode to the bandit, snapping up the familiar Colt as I went. He was on his belly, crawling, falling, and scrabbling across the thin soil. I loomed over him, animal hatred, bloodlust for vengeance, brimming in my chest.

"Where the fuck are you going," smashing my size elven into his calf, rewarded by muscle tearing as I crushed the bone under it, and a crack as I pressed my full weight into the strike. He threw his head back to scream, but I smashed his face to the ground, choking his scream in his throat

"Were you the one that killed my brother? Is that how you got this gun?"

"Aaghgckk," he gurgled painfully, turning to stare at me with naked hatred, one hand holding his smashed face, while the other flailed at my legs. I slid the Colt into my belt. I didn't want the temptation of putting a bullet in him. Couldn't risk the noise.

"Where's my nephew," I asked as I drew my knife from its sheathe. "Blonde kid, answers to 'Bailey,' you killed his father."

A walkie-talkie crackled on his belt as he flipped me the bird.

I slid the blade between his ribs, puncturing his heart, then turned it gently between the ribs as blood welled around it, making sure he'd feel it as he bled out.

"Oh Jesus Christ," the woman gasped, rolling forcefully onto her belly, crab-walking away on hands and knees, "please don't kill me," I looked over at her. The bandit was gasping in front of me as he died, every beat of his weakening heart fighting against the sharp angles of the knife that had torn into him.

I stood and walked toward her, she struggled to get to her feet, fear pushing her off the ground despite her laboured breath. "Don't, please don't, please please please," she begged.

I spread my hands, crouching to make myself smaller, "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. I'm sorry I did before."

She tripped over one leg as she tried to back away, rolling over it and ending up on her backside, dark eyes wide with fear, she grasped at the ground, still gasping for air, and grabbed a rock, hurling it at me weakly. "Stay the fuck away!"

I reached her as she fell back into an old log at the outside of a firepit, behind us, the bandit gurgled and choked, the last few breaths fighting their way out of him.

"He murdered my brother and kidnapped my nephew. Why are you watching them?"

She stared at me fearfully, weighting her options as pretty dark eyes topped by thick black lashes and eyebrows zipped back and forth across me. "They got my sister and me, they let me go to find other people for them, but I never did, I was watching to try to rescue her, but they think I was killing them."

I crouched, holding a hand out palm-up, trying to reassure her.

"How do you know that they thought it was you," I asked. She reached behind her and pulled out a small field walkie. It was off, but it would fit easily in a bag, perfect to keep tabs on her.

"I was supposed to tell them about targets with this. It was you, wasn't it? You're one who killed them?" She seemed to be calming down a tiny bit, her lithe form was almost catlike, and the tension in her body ebbing, not quite ready to burst into a dead run. "I heard them talking about it, they got scared when their people started disappearing."

Nodding, I lowered myself to a sitting position. "Yeah, that was me."

I played with the scant grass peaking through the sandy dirt all around us. "I'm hoping to finish things tonight, but if you've been in there," she nodded, "it'd be a big help if you can tell me about it, the layout, how many there are, where they keep the people. Maybe I can help you get your sister back?"

She told me.

When I asked, she called herself 'Nala,' an obvious alias.

The house was more or less as I remembered, but there were more of them than I'd been lead to believe. As far as Nala was aware, there were fifteen when the crew appeared. They'd set on Nala and her younger sister almost three weeks ago when the crew jumped them living in the very cottage we sat outside of. They'd tried to run, but both of them were still weak from Freddie, and couldn't get away.