Getting By
Chapter 21

Copyright© 2007 by Shakes Peer2B

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 21 - The terrorists finally got a bio-weapon and released it in Western countries. They didn't count on it spreading so fast or killing so effectively. When the dust settles there is only a very small percentage of the human population remaining. This is the story of one group, led by Gavin Thompson, on a mission to resurrect humanity. This story begins the 'Post-Sickness' saga. Read it first.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Rape   Science Fiction   Post Apocalypse   DomSub   Rough   Light Bond   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Sex Toys  

John Hipa gasped between sips of water. His normally grey mount was almost black with sweat, except where white salt and flecks of foam ran in irregular lines down her sides and chest. Matt and Heather had to fight with the bridle to keep her away from the watering trough, giving her, instead, small sips of water from a bucket.

"It's a very large caravan," John panted, pointing east and north, "Over a hundred armed men, and not inclined to stop and talk. We tried to approach them, weapons down, but they shot at us. Their weapons are mostly automatic rifles of various makes and models. I saw a lot of AK-47s. The vehicles are just assorted commercial vehicles, but it looks like they've welded more metal on the sides for armor, and mounted machine guns and the like on most of them. We thought they might be headed to the coast, but when they turned off the highway, I figured I'd better warn you. These guys are bad news and they're either coming here, or they're going to pass near here."

"Thanks, John," I told him, while General Lee got on the radio and started getting people into position. "You've done us a big service here, and I, for one, am grateful."

"It's all part of the deal, Gav," he answered. "You've kept your part of the treaty, and we'll keep ours."

"Well, treaty or no, I'm grateful. Go on into the mine and get something to eat. It's probably best if you stay here until we know how this is going to fall out. We can communicate with your chiefs through the encrypted radios we gave them, so you don't need to risk your neck getting the message to them."

"Thanks," John said, "but if there's going to be fighting, I don't want to be sitting here on my butt. If you can use me, tell me what to do."

"That's General Lee's department, now that we're on a war footing, but I suspect he can always use a god recon man."

With that, we turned expectant gazes on Lee, who was just finishing up his initial round of orders. Behind him, the compound came alive with armed citizens rushing to their assigned posts.

"Until we know whether they're coming here, or just passing through," he said, "we're just taking a 'wait and see' approach. I've got all the outposts on alert and everyone's responding as they should. We'll know more in a bit. You rode here all the way from the dam?"

"Yeah, we met them over in Arizona, but when they shot at us, we figured we'd better try to get an idea of their strength and weapons. They've got SUV's acting as outriders and point vehicles, the rest are, as I said, commercial trucks with added steel plating, except... Well, there was an unarmored bus. Its windows were too dark to see who or what was in it, but it seemed odd that they hadn't added armor or weapons to that one, too. It was hard to get a headcount, as well. We counted at least a hundred, but there could have been two or three times that many in the cargo boxes of the trucks, depending on how much of that space was reserved for supplies. The bus could be carrying forty or fifty, as well."

"All right. Good job. About how fast would you say they were moving?"

"No more than about five miles per hour. As you know, the roads haven't been maintained out here. Sand has blown over most of them, and these guys aren't really equipped for operation in the desert. They get stuck a lot, but they're getting good at getting unstuck."

"So, probably half an hour before they reach the point where they decide to turn east, keep on to the south, or come up to our front door. I recommend you use that time to get food, water, and a little rest. We'll know more about how to proceed when they show us what they're planning."

About twenty five minutes later, Lee and I were in the Command Center when sentries and the video feeds from the Metal Storms showed us the intruders. They reached the decision point to the northeast of the Citadel, and didn't even pause, but continued south. At first, we thought they were just going to pass us by, but stopped when they came abreast of the mouth of the wash leading down from the lower entrance to the mine.

Five rough-looking men jumped down from the two lead trucks, each launching little clouds of dust from his clothes as he hit the ground. Casually, in a group, they started up the wash, while others began to pile out of the vehicles, looking like they expected no trouble, but wanted to stretch their legs.

"Get me strength assessments," General Lee said quietly, as others in the command center issued the communications necessary to carry out those orders.

"What do you figure they've got under the tarp?" he asked, indicating the almost shapeless mass that was being towed behind one of the trucks.

"Field piece," one of the veterans replies, "or rocket launcher. Bad news, either way."

"Even worse news if they get into the caves here," I said. "Just for grins, let's get a lock on that thing, and if I show two fingers, hit it with a few rounds of HE. I'm going out to chat with these boys."

"You think that's a good idea?" Lee still couldn't bring himself to give me orders, but he had finally realized that questioning my decisions was not only safe, but expected.

"I think it's better than letting them into the mine," I replied. "You and I both know that they're most likely expecting to find several pallets of Metal Storm parts in there. What we don't know is how much they know about the rest of this mountain, and I don't want to find out the hard way. Just in case, though, keep an eye on me, and if they fire on me or try to rush me, kill 'em, okay? I'll try to keep my distance and not interfere with anyone's line of fire."

"All right, but do be careful," he replied, "and let us know before you start back up the mine - you know we've got to activate the booby traps once you're through, right?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

The heat in the wash was even worse than on the open desert. There was little breeze and the heat radiating off the sides of the gully made it an absolute oven. I sipped from my water pack as I slipped out through the brush covering the mine opening. I figured these guys already knew where the opening was, so I didn't bother trying to slip away from it before showing myself. Even so, I was about ten yards down the wash before the intruders noticed me.

The big guy with the cigar, who wore a Fidel Castro style cap, held out the tree trunks that served him for arms and physically stopped the rest of the group.

"Hello!" he called, amiably enough. His accent sounded Russian. "I did not expect to find someone out here in the middle of the desert."

"I guess I could say the same," I replied. "Something I can do for you gentlemen?"

"Ah! Perhaps!" the bear grinned, showing a gold-capped tooth. "Some time ago, a number of, shall we say, packages, were left for me in that cave behind you. Perhaps you would be so kind as to help us load them on our trucks!"

"Ah, well," I said, shifting position, and in the process, allowing the M16 to slip downward on its sling. Since I had gotten in the habit of slinging it muzzle down, this brought the muzzle forward, and I allowed my right hand to rest lightly on the receiver. "Well, there might be a little bit of a problem there."

"Problem?" the voice was no longer amiable, and the way his men had spread themselves out spelled trouble. "What kind of problem?"

"The, uh, packages, I'm sorry to say," I tried to sound apologetic, but he wasn't buying it, "are no longer in the cave."

"No longer in the cave? Perhaps you know where they are?"

"I do, yes," I answered, keeping my eyes on the four who were now trying to get around to my flanks.

"Ah! Then there is no problem after all!" the big guy said, jovial once again.

I figured this charade had outlived its usefulness, so I changed my tone a bit.

"There's going to be, if your men don't stop where they are."

"I'm afraid my men don't listen too good," the Russian said, his eyes like chips of ice, "so, would do no good to tell them."

"That's okay," I replied casually, then thumbed the switch for my mic. "Lee, kill the two on the ends of the line for me, will you?"

Two bullets struck flesh so close together it sounded like one hit, then the stereo reports of two sniper rifles crashed through the wash.

Big Guy didn't watch his two men fall, and neither did I. Our eyes were locked on each other.

"So, there are three of you..." he growled.

"At least." I answered, deadpan.

From the corners of my eyes I saw the other two edging backward.

"It seems that I have more control over your men than you," I smiled.

"At the moment," he answered reluctantly, "that would seem to be the case. So, can we make no arrangement for me to recover my items, or shall I begin shelling your little compound in the valley above? Perhaps you have a woman and some little babies up there, nice and comfortable in Archie's little hideaway..."

I didn't take the bait to give him more information about us. I simply placed my left hand behind my back and asked, "Shelling? With what?"

"Oh, just a little toy I picked up on the way out here from New York," he shrugged.

I flashed two fingers behind my back and one of the Metal Storms burped out about four rounds.

This time, the explosion behind him caused the Russian to whirl in place and stare at the column of smoke that rose from where he'd left his trucks.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, taking the opportunity to bring the M16 up to its proper firing position. "I'm afraid I may have broken your toy."

The AK-47 in his hand was coming up as he whirled back around, but when he saw that I had him in my sights with my finger tightening on the trigger, he visibly forced himself to relax. The other two, remembering the snipers, did nothing.

"I suppose I shall have to go away empty handed," he ground out, through clenched teeth.

I figured a guy like that would do no such thing, but I still held out the hope that discretion would become the better part of valor for him as his temper cooled. Instead of ordering General Lee to open fire on the column of trucks, I just said, "I suppose so."

We kept close watch on them as they meekly turned and headed back northward. The People trailed them discreetly and reported on their progress: Westward, not Eastward. As I feared, they had maps good enough to show the military installations in the area, and while we had gotten pretty much everything we wanted from those installations, there were still some pretty dangerous pieces of hardware out there, though some of it would turn out not to be as useful as they might think.

Sure enough, they were back two days later with sixteen M1A1 Abrams tanks humming along the desert sand in the forefront of the column. Those didn't worry me too much, especially since a tank's main gun is not really designed for firing over obstacles. What did give me pause was the HIMARS (High Mobility Artillery Rocket System) and the four M777 155mm howitzers at the rear of the column.

It remained to be seen if they knew how to use those weapons but I figured an arms dealer like this guy for at least passing knowledge of the ins and outs of such weapons systems. Once again, General Lee and I were in the command center, when Gunny Garcia stuck his head through the door. We had standardized on Army ranks when General Lee took over, but as far as anyone in our community knew, Gunny was still Gunny. What he was doing in the command center when his post was up on the eastern ridge, I didn't know, but I was guessing he had a damn good reason.

"Sorry, sir," he said apologetically, but with a mysterious grin on his face, "My radio's on the fritz so I thought I'd better get another before the party starts. Oh yeah, do us a favor, and don't shoot any of those tanks or howitzers, will you? Probably not worth wasting ordnance on the rocket launcher, either."

"Why?" Lee and I asked simultaneously.

"If you give me a direct order to do so, I will answer, but I'd prefer to let you wait and find out for yourselves," the grin threatened to split his face in two as he continued, "I promise you won't regret it!"

"All right gunny, but I'll have you carrying a sixty pound pack up and down this mountain from dawn to dusk if this blows up in my face," Lee admonished him.

"Oh, it won't blow up in your face sir!" we could hear his laughter as he headed back up the mineshaft.

 
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