Warden's Domain
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2004 by Robber Baron

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - With the permission of GoldenMage, this is a story in the Wizard's Realm Universe by another author. If you aren't familiar with that universe, you might want to take a look at it to help understand where this story starts; just after the plague strikes. No sex in the first couple of chapters.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Science Fiction   Harem   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex  

The young woman sat on the cot watching her husband die, and there was nothing she could do about it. He looked even older now than his 51 years, his thin face even thinner, his eyelids fluttering, his breathing coming in short, rasping gasps. She pressed a damp cloth to his parchment-dry skin, trying to ease his discomfort. That was all she could do for him now.

At 29, Veronica Ramos Lewis was twenty-two years younger than her husband. The young Mexican-American woman and Carter, Dr. Carter Lewis, PhD, head of Arizona State University's New World Archaeology program, had only been married five years, and now he was dying. And they would never be able to make their failing marriage work. That's why she was here with him, at Colcon, the ruins of this recently discovered Mayan city, here to try to work with him, to try to make their marriage work. But now, that would never happen, no matter how small the possibility. Now even that small hope was gone.

Once more, she pressed the damp cloth to her dying husband's skin, then stepped outside, looking around the campsite. It seemed so quiet - unnaturally quiet. It seemed like the usual morning songs of the birds in the surrounding jungle were silenced by the overwhelming death in their midst. Then she heard something, a sob, as Brianna came out of the tent she shared with Linda, the one female grad student with them at Colcon. Matt had one of his big arms around Brianna's shoulder, trying to comfort her.

Seeing her step-mother standing in front of the tent, "Oh, Ronnie, she's gone," Brianna sobbed, running to Veronica, her head on her full bosom.

Veronica pulling away a little, looking into Brianna's blue eyes, "You better go inside, in our... in your father's and my tent. It might be your last chance to... to say goodbye to your dad."

"Oh, Ronnie," Brianna's voice breaking. "Are... are we all gonna die?"

"I don't know, but so far you and I haven't got it, and Matt seems alright. The information we got from the radio is that the plague is spreading all over, but some are surviving. Bree we've gotta stay strong and keep going. We've gotta take care of those who've got it - maybe with our help they'll be able to make it. And we've gotta take care of ourselves. Now come on. Let's say goodbye to your dad."

Inside the tent again, it seemed to Veronica that Carter's breathing was even more labored. Sitting on her cot opposite her husband, Veronica again pressed the damp cloth to his dry skin, over his forehead, his neck, reaching under his shirt to rub the cool cloth over his chest. Bending forward, her mouth close to his ear, "Carter... Carter, Bree's here, can you talk to her?"

Brianna moving to kneel next to her father's cot, taking his dry hand in hers. "Daddy... daddy, do you want to talk to me?" her voice breaking.

Miraculously, Carter stirred, his eyes fluttering open, his head turning. "Bree," he croaked.

"Daddy, talk to me, please, daddy," she begged, moving closer.

"I'm not gonna make it Bree, I... I know that."

"Oh, daddy," she sobbed.

"Bree, I just wish I was a better father. I... I tried, but there was too much - my work, then the divorce and Ronnie. I'm sorry, sorry I wasn't a better father, sorry I didn't do more. Goodbye Bree," his hand feebly squeezing hers, his weak gaze shifting from her face to Veronica's. Brianna bent forward, softly kissing his brow, so hot, so dry, before letting go of his hand, moving to sit on her step-mother's cot.

Veronica knelt beside her dying husband, taking his hand, again wiping his brow with the damp cloth. His eyes focusing weakly on her face, "I haven't been a very good husband either," his voice so low she needed to move even closer.

"Carter, don't think about that now. Just remember how happy we were in... in the beginning."

He gave her a weak smile, "Yes, in the beginning it was good. Now... here, you tried to make it work, harder than me, but you know, I know, we weren't going to make it. We're just too far apart, in age, in temperament. I'm sorry, Ronnie, I... I loved you."

As his eyes fluttered shut, "Carter, I loved you," she whispered, bending forward to kiss his dry lips, tears flowing down her cheeks.

They waited. It seemed like forever, but when Veronica looked at her watch she saw it was just a little more than a half hour. Finally, Carter drew a long, rasping breath, his body trembling as he exhaled, and then he was gone. Their eyes dry now, they stood, embracing, the young wife and the teen-age daughter, comforting each other. After a moment, they stepped out of the tent.

Matt Warden, the big ex-Marine who was their camp foreman, was sitting on a stool, a cigarette dangling from his lips, a mug of coffee in his hand. "He didn't make it?" he asked, his gaze moving from Brianna to Veronica.

"He's gone," Veronica answered. "How're the guys?"

"Pretty bad," the big man said, standing, drinking out of the mug. "Looks like won't be long for them."

"Oh, not them, too!" Brianna cried.

"That's four gone now," Matt said, taking a drag on the cigarette. "If we three make it, that seems like a better survival ratio than what we've been hearing about on the radio. Dropping the butt, grinding it out in the dirt with his boot heel, "I've been doing what I could for them - just stepped out for a smoke. Come on, you can take a look."

The three of them crowded into the tent where Rob and Paul, the two male grad students, were lying on their cots, quiet except for their labored breathing. Veronica knelt on the floor between the cots, touching their foreheads, finding them hot and dry like the others who contracted the plague - and died. Turning to Matt and Brianna, "Doesn't look good. Well, the least we can do is try to make them more comfortable."

Brianna joined her, taking a cloth, dipping it in the basin, pressing it to Paul's hot, dry skin. As Veronica began doing the same for Rob, "I'll get more water," Matt said, ducking his head as he exited the tent.

He walked over to the cook tent where the little generator was still humming away, powering the cooler. "Wonder how long this'll last," he thought to himself, staring at the generator, mentally calculating how much fuel was left. He took a bottle of cold water from the cooler. Suddenly feeling very warm, he poured a glass for himself, downing it quickly, then carried the bottle back to the tent.

As she took the bottle of cool water from Matt, Veronica noticed his face was flushed, he was perspiring heavily. "Matt, are you alright? You're not getting it, are you?" she asked, standing.

The big man grabbed hold of the tent pole, "I... I don't know. But I feel hot, and I've got a splitting headache."

"Come on," she said. "Let's get you to your tent."

With Veronica and Brianna on each side helping him, Matt was able to stumble to his tent, the only single in the camp. By the time they got there, all he could do was fall onto his cot, his eyes closing, his face flushed, his body covered in perspiration. After they loosened his clothes, removed his boots and socks, "Get some cool water," Veronica told Brianna, "and the ibuprofen too. There's some in my tent, on top of my foot locker."

At the cook tent, Brianna got another bottle of water, another basin, and a clean towel. Reluctantly, she went back the tent Veronica and her father had shared. For a moment, she turned her eyes to her father's body, then got the ibuprofen. After pausing to look again at her dead father, she hurried to Matt's tent.

Once she had the cool water, Veronica began wiping the damp cloth over Matt's head and chest. Feeling the cool cloth on his skin, he began to revive a little, gasping, moving his arm over his eyes, his brow furrowing.

"Matt! Matt, can you hear me?" Veronica said into his ear.

Raising up, turning to look at Veronica, "Yeah, I can hear you, but I'm really hot. And... and my head is splitting"

"Here's some ibuprofen... three," offering the medicine as Brianna poured a glass of water. "Can you take them?"

"Yeah, sure."

The big man struggling to raise himself, Veronica placed her arm behind his back, helping him sit up. Quickly, he swallowed the medicine, draining the glass of water. Once more, Brianna filled the glass, Matt draining it again, then lay back, closing his eyes. Veronica wiped the cloth over his forehead and chest, noticing he seemed to be breathing more normally,

"You go take care of the guys," she said. "I'll stay with Matt for now."

Brianna went back to Rob and Paul's tent. There wasn't much she could do for them except try to keep them as cool and comfortable as possible. After about an hour, Veronica came over. "Matt seems to be sleeping comfortably now," she said. "He still has a fever, but it's definitely lower. I'll fix lunch, then you can eat and take a break while I watch the guys."

For their lunch, Veronica opened a can of soup, heating the contents on the gas camp stove. She had soup with crackers and fruit, then relieved Brianna at Rob and Paul's tent. After Brianna finished her lunch and came back to the tent, "You look tired, Bree," Veronica said. "You can go lie down for a while. I'll do what I can for these two, and check on Matt once in a while."

"Yeah I'm tired," Brianna said, wiping her hand across her brow. "And I could use a rest, but I just couldn't go back there to... to my tent, not with Linda there, not now."

"I didn't think of that," Veronica said. Glancing at the two dying young men, "Come on, they'll be okay for a few minutes. We can put your mattress in Matt's tent, on the floor, and mine too. We'll be together you and me and Matt. That'll be alright won't it?"

Brianna agreed, though she wondered what they would do if Matt's condition got worse. They checked on him, finding him sleeping peacefully, his breathing not labored like seemed to be a symptom of those with the plague. Veronica touched Matt's forehead for a second. He still had a fever, but not nearly as high as before, and he seemed to have stopped perspiring so heavily. "Okay, he seems to be improving. Let's bring in the mattresses."

They had to rearrange Matt's belongings, but soon they had the two mattresses on the floor, next to Matt's low cot. Matt's tent was the same size as the two-person tents, even though Matt was the only one sleeping there, until now. With the two mattresses, and Matt's cot, there wasn't much room left on the floor. The flaps were open on both sides of the tent, letting the breeze blow through, though it wasn't nearly as hot now as it had been earlier, during the summer.

Brianna was able to sleep for almost two hours. She woke up when Matt started moving around on his cot, his breaths coming quicker and louder. When she sat up, Brianna saw Matt had again thrown his arm over his forehead. She touched him, finding his skin warm, but not as hot, not as dry as the others, as the others who had died and were dying.

She ran over to the grad students' tent, telling Veronica she needed to go check on Matt. When they got back to Matt's tent, Veronica saw that again his brow was furrowed, he was rubbing his arm over his forehead, seemingly in pain. Bending close, "Matt, does your head hurt? Is your headache coming back?" she asked. His only answer a long groan.

With Veronica supporting his back again, they got more ibuprofen into him, and after a while he seemed to be resting peacefully.

Staring into Brianna's eyes, Veronica asked, "Can you go back to the other tent while I stay here for a while?" When Brianna started to answer, she interrupted. "It's just Paul now. Rob died a while ago."

The teen's eyes filling with tears, "Oh, not him too!" she cried. "What'll we do if Matt dies?"

"We'll make it Bree, we'll survive. Can you take care of Paul, keep him comfortable, as comfortable as possible, while I rest here for a while? You'll be in there with Rob... with Rob's body. Can you handle that, and take care of Paul?"

"I... yeah, I can do it."

"Good, call me if you need help," Veronica said, lying on her mattress, closing her eyes.

She was awakened by Brianna shaking her shoulder. "Ronnie... Ronnie," she whispered into her ear. "I need your help, it's Paul."

When they got to the tent, it was clear to Veronica that now, as had happened with so many others, Paul was dying. This time it took longer, almost two hours by Veronica's watch. They waited with him, tried to comfort him. At the end, his eyes opened and he said one word: "Mamma," and then he was dead.

"What do we do now?" Brianna asked.

"It's after six, the sun will be setting soon," Veronica said, her voice weary. "Let's eat now. We'll rest tonight, and tomorrow we can decide what we'll do. And... and we should know about Matt by then, whether he's gonna make it."

"Oh, I hope he will," Brianna sighed. "I think he will, his symptoms aren't the same as the others, he didn't vomit or have diarrhea like the others. I think he'll make it, don't you?"

"Maybe, I don't know, but I hope so. Now, come on, we'll feel better after we eat."

Later, lying on her mattress on the floor of Matt's tent, Veronica felt so tired, so exhausted, but somehow she couldn't sleep. She could hear Brianna's soft breathing from the mattress next to her, and Matt, on the cot, maybe a foot above. He seemed to be breathing normally.

Occasionally, she would hear a sound outside the tent. Not knowing whether it was an animal, or maybe something else, she touched with her fingertips the thirty-eight revolver next to her mattress. She could use it, Matt taught her before it happened, before they all got sick.

Thinking about that, about the strangeness of the plague that had taken the three fit, young grad students, yet spared her and Brianna and Matt. "I can understand about Juan and Ernesto, they were older, in their late thirties or forties, and probably not in as good health as us. But Matt's almost as old as Carter," she thought. "Why was he able to survive when those kids couldn't make it?" With that question still running through her mind, she finally dropped off to sleep.

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