With A Whimper - Cover

With A Whimper

Copyright© 2005 by oldmudrat

Chapter 7

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 7 - Another end of the 'world as we know it' story. The 'hero' does not find just what he needs to survive quiet as easily as some of these type stories portray. I'm trying to make it as different from those past stories as I can.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Science Fiction  

Date: February 28, 2016

"I'll try not to disappoint you," I said. "I don't know where this is going, but I do want you with me for the ride."

"And that is where we will leave it for now," she said. "We like each other, seem to get along, and are good together in bed. Let's just take it one day at a time."

Well, at least now I knew how she felt. Didn't I? My own feelings were somewhat tangled except for one point. I did like Kathy. We had known each other off and on for three or four years. She was no Jules, but she was a good person. That was what I thought anyway.

I didn't know her THAT well. I had met her through Doc Caldwell during the many times I would shadow him. He would be doing his job, making rounds in the hospital, delivering babies, operating and just hanging out with the folks at the hospital. I don't think he had a life outside his patients.

Anyway, that is how I met Kathy. Nothing really clicked between us before. Maybe it was just the circumstances this time around. But...

I mentally shook my head to stop that train of thought. Too damn much thinking, I told myself.

"One day at a time," I said. "O.K." I gave her hand one last squeeze and stood. "For today I want to look around the house. Granddad left something here before... well, before what ever happened to him happened. Apparently I supposed to know where to look, but I have no idea where or what he was talking about. So, I'm going to look around and see what I find."

Kathy took the dirty bowls and glasses to the kitchen sink, placing them with the empty cans.

As she started washing up, she said, "I'll finish up the inventory after I clean up. By the way, I found a couple of empty boxes in the utility room and I'm using them for cans and bottles. I don't think we should throw anything out." She held up an empty ravioli can, now clean. "They're not making any more of these now, you know." She placed the can on the drying rack to join the others from last night.

"Good idea. I hadn't thought of that. I don't know what we will use them for, but you never can tell."

"I'm sure something will come to mind."


I wandered the house and found myself in Granddad's office. This was the sleeping area in the original cabin. About thirty feet square. Along the walls were bookcases with full shelves. Loose papers were stuck between many of the books. A massive walnut desk was in the center of the room. One wall had an antique railroad stove with the flue disappearing through the wall. There was plenty of clearance around the stove to avoid fire. Kerosene lanterns were positioned to supplement the modern electric light fixtures. Granddad's radio equipment covered one table. A couple of tables, a couch, several chairs and lamps, throw rugs on the wooden floor and a liquor cabinet completed the room's furnishings.

The room could have belonged in another century if it wasn't for the radio gear and the computer and large screen TV. Two years ago, Granddad had bought one of the new ultra-thin systems. The screen was one of those new three-millimeter thin flexible models. Usually it was mounted on the wall opposite the desk. But now I could see that it was rolled into a tube setting on the desk.

Granddad usually had a pile of papers, books, this and that on the desk. It was not that way now. The rolled-up TV screen was on one side of the desk. Four pens were also on the desk, positioned in such a way as to point to an antique desk clock. A leather bound journal was leaning against the desk clock.

I sat at the desk and turned on the computer. The indicator lights on the cigar-box sized unit came alive as the system booted. There was a blur of light beams as the holographic display and keyboard came on-line.

The system's voice was a sexy alto that brought to mind hot tropical nights and promises of wonders to come. "Identification required". I placed my right thumb onto the biometric slot. Less than a second was required for the system to accept my thumbprint.

"Welcome, James Thomas Greer. Starting system upload." The familiar Windows HOLO Edition - not so affectionately known as Windows HELL Edition -- logo appeared with a status bar active along the bottom of the display

The 3-D display soon showed the system icons floating in the air. I glanced over the contents and file labels. There were less of them than I remembered. Granddad must have changed the system since my last visit. I poked the icon labeled 'read me first'.

A separate hologram video display started. It was Granddad, apparently seated at this desk. The file date, displayed along the bottom of the frame, was one week previously. February 22, 2016. He looked healthy, although with a couple of day's beard growth. He was wearing his habitual white shirt and denim coveralls.

He began talking.

"I am assuming that it is you, James. This system is configured to not boot unless you pass initial identification. It is good to know that you are alive. I would have tried to contact you sooner... I should have done it anyway... but there are more important things I have to do and you are busy enough. There is still a thing or two I have to do, but I want to get this file done while I have the time and energy.

"If you are watching this, then it is a safe bet that I am not around. There is a chance that you will not see this. You probably will, but..." He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "... better prepared than not.

"Time is short and I had better get on with it. There is a lot that you did not know about me, James. A lot I could never tell you. I cannot even tell you now, even like this. There is always the chance that it is not you listening.

"I have done my best the last few months to prepare this home for you. IF you have survived the Flu - you were still alive when I checked last week - then you are going to need a refuge. A place to hold up until things settle... It is not going to be easy. I could have made it easy, but that is not the best thing in the long run. Live or die, you are going to have to do it the hard way. That is the only way it will mean a damn thing. We are going through a bad time. Only the strong, smart, and lucky will survive. Hell, we may all go the way of the dinosaurs and wooly mammoths."

He shrugged his shoulders. "It makes no difference to me now what happens here. I will not be here, one way or the other.

"This place is as ready as I could make it. That is not saying you have everything you need to survive. You have a long, hard row to hoe, James. Gather the ones you trust around you. You will need their help and they will need yours. Pay attention to the place. Look around and you will be surprised at what you may find. Give your trust sparingly. Defend your best chance to live against those who would take it from you. I am talking about those who even now feel that the world owes them something. Those who would rather take than give. Even with ninety-nine per-cent of the world dead, you can be damn sure that there will be plenty of that kind of vermin around.

"A couple of important points then I have got to get on with my work and I'm sure you have better things to do than sit there listening to me. One, don't be surprised by anything. Two, I am leaving you something that could mean the difference in a future of just getting by and one giving you a real chance to keep a decent tech level in place. You know where to look, I would imagine. Three, always remember the most important part of Life and where I laid my cherished treasure.

The image of Daniel William Pitt glanced at his watch.

"I wish you luck, James. There is not much time for me now. I have 'miles to go and promises to keep before I sleep'. I will see you again. In this world or the next. I love you, James, like my own son. Remember that."

His image disappeared and the computer displayed, System reboot. Format starting.

There was nothing I could do to stop it.

The file was gone and I feared that I had seen my Great-granddad's image for the last time.

What did he mean? There was that I would know 'where to look' mystery again? I didn't know where to look or what I was supposed to be looking. Plus what was this about a treasure? I will admit Granddad was much better off financially then he lead people to believe, but he had always told me that it was the results of prudent investments over the years. Now that I think about it Granddad never really gave me any solid explanation of how he could afford the changes he had made to the farm. He always changed the subject. However, buried treasure was a long reach, even for Granddad.

The computer display had changed to 'Loading From Server. Configuring New Command Authority.' and a timer counted downward from forty seconds.

I finally reached the conclusion that Granddad had not wandered off, but he was dead. His body was probably somewhere on the property. He had died while completing whatever he was going to do after making the video and had not been able to make it back to the house. I would probably come across his bones one day.

I wondered why it didn't bother me that much. The only family member that I ever really loved and got along with was probably, almost certainly, dead. Why did it not affect me more than giving me a vague feeling of loss and a wish I could see the old man just one more time?

The computer display showed 'System Reload Complete. New Command Authority Protocols Engaged. Level Two Security Protocols Engaged.'.

A bit disgusted with myself, I pushed the chair back and picked up Granddad's journal. Many, many times I had seen him writing in these journals. He had done that for as long as I knew him and he once told me that he had started doing so after he resigned from the army. He never let me read them. It got to be a game between us. I would sneak off and purloin one of the journals, but he would also find me before I could even open it.

Turning to the bookcases, I searched until I found a shelf of old journals. These were only a fraction of those Granddad had completed. I did not know where he stored the others. There always seemed to be just that one shelf, even though the journals themselves varied from visit to visit.

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