Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, BiSexual, Post Apocalypse, Slow, Violent, Military, .
Desc: Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Marcus Brooks leads his friends, and others, through a massive meteor shower which decimates nations and its chaotic aftermath. Future chapters may include sexual violence, rape and slavery - codes will then be corrected.
-RIIINNNGG ... RIIINNNGG!-
-RIIINNNGG ... RIIINNNGG!-
It took me three tries, but I finally found the phone. Not an easy thing to do in pitch black, with a numb arm. My initial impulse was to simply silence it by chucking it against the wall, but somehow, through my sleepy and irritable haze, I was hit by a sudden attack of reason.
"'ello?" I groaned.
"Marcus? It's Travis."
"Uncle Travis?" And just like that, I was wide awake. "What -"
"Look, I'm sorry about calling so late." I glanced at my clock radio and saw that it was a quarter to four in the morning. If it had been anybody else, I would have simply growled, cursed them off and hung up.
What can I say, I like my sleep.
"I'm also sorry that I haven't kept in touch much since the funerals."
"That's ok Travis..." I said, but not really meaning it.
"No it's not. I could blame it on grief, or maybe being overworked, but they're no excuse. I promise to make it up to you, hopefully next time we meet. Whenever that may be. But right now, I have something really important to say."
"Go head." I felt much better with his obviously heartfelt apology, but I was also grateful for the subject change.
"Listen, I just sent you an email. Read it. Believe it. It's not spam, a joke or hoax – it's real and it's serious."
"Travis, what are you talking about?" I could really hear the fear and urgency in his voice. Two states of mind that I had believed were completely foreign to my laid back and confidant uncle.
"Read the files, then get somewhere safe." I could hear other voices in the background through the phone. He continued talking hurriedly in an almost whisper. "I need to go. Send a message to the address at the end of the email. Good luck kid ... be smart and stay safe."
For a good ten minutes I simply stayed there in the dark, sitting up in bed with the phone clutched in my hand. My mind seemed to be having problems engaging. I didn't know what to think or feel at the moment.
My uncle Travis, the only close relative I had left, had called in the middle of the night, after almost ten months of silence, to apologize and say "check your email".
I wasn't sure if I was happy he called or pissed off – probably a bit of both.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, making a significant effort to reboot my brain. I decided that there wasn't much I could do about my uncle now. I'd deal with him later, in person, whenever that would be.
I leaned over, reaching out in the dark for my laptop on my desk. Thanks to practicing the same maneuver thousands of times before, I grabbed it with only a minimal amount of groping and fumbling. I brought it to me and then simply waited for it to boot up and connect to the local WiFi.
Sure enough, a minute later, I found Travis's email in my inbox, tucked in between a message offering discount Rolexs and another guaranteeing an extra three inches in length and another in girth. Opening his message, after deleting the SPAM, I spent the next hour going through several pdf files. Wanting to be thorough, I printed them all out and reread them carefully, highlighting passages and doing some research on the internet. I was no longer tired, despite the time. I worked solidly over two hours.
When I was done, I shut down my computer, walked stiffly into the bathroom and threw up in the toilet.
Of course there was no way that I was going back to sleep after that. I got dressed and left the apartment for a run, hoping that it would clear my head and allow me to think and plan. It's something I have done before that usually helps me deal with stress. Thank God it worked this time – my mind had just about stalled, overloaded by the sheer enormity of what I had read in one simple email.
Jogging through the still dark streets of Seattle, I shifted my mind into problem solving mode. If there was one area where I excelled, it was planning – I could plan actions, envision numerous consequences, good and bad, and adapt accordingly with speed and accuracy.
My father used to joke that I should grow up to be a general.
By the time the sun started rising I was sore and physically tired, but also strangely energized. I already had the bare bones of a plan and was on my way home.
A little past seven thirty, I started to hear movement from my roommate's bedroom. Dave joined me in the kitchen a few moments later, still not fully dressed and apparently half asleep. I pointed out a cup of coffee that I had already prepared and a box of fresh donuts I had picked up on my way home. His only response was a grunt which I choose to take as a "thanks" as he sat down and began his morning caffeine intake.
Dave Walnot was the first person I met at the University of Washington about three years ago, and somehow we became best friends and roommates, living in our own apartment. He was born and raised in Liverpool, England and was one of a dozen kids (all siblings and cousins) living in one cramped house, along with his parents and a smattering of aunts and uncles. According to his multitude of stories, he was a real hell raiser and an aspiring criminal delinquent, all while managing semi-decent grades, helping with the younger children and working a part-time job.
Then something happened, I'm not sure what. He apparently got in some pretty big trouble and it wasn't exactly comfortable or safe to stay in the country. Seeing as he had some money saved up and he wasn't particularly close to any of his family, he decided to leave for America. He ended up here in Seattle with a student visa and enrolled in the University of Washington.
"So, you're up early." He finally spoke, after pouring his second coffee and finishing his donut.
"I got some bad news last night ... Real bad."
"You in trouble?" He asked skeptically. Usually, whenever I was involved in some sort of problem, he was usually the one that had dragged me into it.
"We all are Dave." He stopped his reach for a second donut. Looking at me closely, he could tell that I was serious.
"You gonna keep me in suspense, or what? Build up the drama, then hit me with a surprise twist ending?" He usually did that - use mockery to defuse a tense situation. I appreciated it.
"Let's wait until Missy gets here. I don't want to repeat myself." I replied with a slight smile.
He nodded thoughtfully and we proceeded to continue drinking our coffee and eating donuts in companionable silence.
"Morning boys." Speak of the devil; not even a minute later there she was, padding into the kitchen wearing nothing but a small t-shirt, panties, fluffy bunny slippers and a big cheery smile.
About the only thing I could ever be remotely jealous of Dave was his girlfriend Missy. Cute, sweet and sexy sums her up quite well. They met a month or two after Dave and I did and fell instantly in love, despite their many differences. Well, according to Dave, they fell instantly in lust first, with love coming a few days later, after they actually got to know each other.
He was a dark skinned and reformed criminal from Liverpool, while she was a blond and curly haired, blue-eyed, country girl from somewhere down south. She was perky, eternally happy and upbeat, friendly with everyone, while he was standoffish, somewhat moody, and emotionally scarred. Yet somehow, they were perfect together, bringing out the best of each other.
She hardly even slowed down on her way to the fridge for her usual orange juice and cereal as she kissed Dave good morning and patted me on my head. She quickly filled a cup and prepared a bowl with practiced ease. Even though she lived in her own apartment with two roommates of her own, she spent so much time here with us, that she might as well have been paying rent. She then hopped up to sit on the kitchen counter and started eating.
"Any plans besides classes?" she asked genuinely curious about our days.
"Actually," I answered, "I don't think any of us will be going to classes."
Her spoon stopped on the way to her mouth. "What does that mean?"
"That's right ... apparently Marcus here has some big bad news for us." They both looked at me expectantly.
"Let's get a bit more comfortable," I said heading for the living room, with a fresh cup of coffee.
Moments later we were all gathered around the coffee table – Missy was sitting cross-legged on the couch still eating her cereal, with Dave sitting on the floor in front of her, slowly working on his third cup and donut, while I was sitting in my armchair with a couple of printed out copies of the documents Uncle Travis had emailed me.
"Early this morning, I got a call," I started telling them. "It was my Uncle Travis, my mother's brother. We haven't really talked in a long time." Dave just nodded – he knew all about my family history – while Missy looked interested. "He apparently couldn't talk for long, so he was quick and to the point. He told me to check my email, quite adamantly. After he hung up, I checked my account and found a message with a couple of large files annexed to it." I slid over copies of those files and they started looking them over.
"As you can see, most of those pages have some sort of government or military header, with 'Classified', 'Top Secret' and 'For Authorized Personnel Only' stamped in several places. From the Department of Defense and Pentagon mostly, and one even has the Presidential Seal." They both looked surprised and a little bit apprehensive now.
"You see, my Uncle Travis is a pretty smart navy officer, a genius really. He works high up in the military and government – he analyzes and compiles intelligence reports for the brass, sometimes even the White House, and researches solutions, contingency plans and operating procedures for recommendation reports. So, assume that these are real and that we are not supposed to have them."
I paused letting the information sink in. "No need to get all worried – at least not yet. I haven't even gotten to the really bad part." I told them. "The gist of all these government reports is that the sky is falling." I stopped again, this time to gulp down the rest of my coffee.
"Marcus, you're getting us all wound up. Why don't ya just explain what you mean by 'sky is falling'?" Dave asked, clearly worried and impatient. Missy reached down and squeezed his shoulder in support.
I took a few breathes to calm myself. Just thinking about it was making the bile rise up my throat. I had been fighting hard to keep my emotions in check and get through this – just a little more to go, and it wouldn't be on just my shoulders alone.
"Apparently, last month a deep space telescope picked up an anomaly coming in system towards Earth orbit. A week later, with some time, more information and long calculations, they were able to confirm that in more or less a month our planet will be passing through a large and dense asteroid field."
"Kinda like Armageddon?" asked Missy after a long pregnant pause.
"Close," I answered, taking a moment to think over my explanation. "There's no big bad civilization killing mountain of rock coming our way, so that's a definite plus. Instead, we're on a collision course with several tens to hundreds of thousands of smaller rocks.
"A lot of the smaller ones will undoubtedly simply burn up upon hitting the atmosphere, giving us all a nice light show. The rest that actually reach the Earth's surface, on the other hand, should range between the size of a golf ball, capable of totaling a car, to that of an office building, that can take out an entire city."
"Where is it going to hit?" Dave asked slowly and deliberately. I could tell that he was frightened, but he was controlling it.
"Everywhere Dave." I replied, my face blank and voice steady. "Fire and rock are going to rain down all over the world. The official estimate is that the asteroid shower will last between two to three days."
"Fuck," he whispered. Missy looked like she was trying desperately not to cry.
"Feel free to throw up ... I did." I said as I stood up.
I gathered up all the now empty and used tableware and took them to the kitchen sink. I wanted to give them some time together to assimilate the devastating information, so I decided to wash the dishes, the ones from breakfast today and yesterday's dinner.
After I was done and, what I guessed was a suitable amount of time had passed, I rejoined them in the living room. Dave was now sitting on the couch with Missy sitting on his lap, his arms around her protectively. Her red eyes clearly showed that she had been crying, but now they were both skimming through the documents I had given them, talking softly.
"You're damn sure this is all serious?" He asked me, meeting my eyes. I simply nodded. "Alright then, what do we do mate? What's the plan and what do you need us to do?"
"You're with me then?" I asked, pleasantly surprised. I had been prepared to defend my position – argue why this was real, just how serious it was going to be and what we were going to have to do.
"Where else would I be?" he replied with a rueful smile. Missy smiled warmly and nodded in agreement.
"Thanks." I extended my arm and we bumped fists. It was a simple gesture we had done hundreds of time before, but this time I felt it meant something more – we were partners in something truly important now.
"But, what about the government?" Missy asked. "The Military ... They're going to do something, right? When are they going to let people know?"
"Yeah, can't they send up a couple of nukes?" Dave added, clearly liking the idea. He was a big fan of the saying "the best defense is a good offense".
"They probably will do something – there are a few possible scenarios and options open to the government." I gestured to the papers I had given them. "In my opinion, they're going to prepare as many shelters and bunkers as possible – quietly mind you. They don't want a panic if they can help it. They'll probably bring back most overseas military presence and call up the National Guard. Only when they're good and ready, with as much power and resources consolidated, will they want to go public.
"Unfortunately for them, they'll most likely be forced to do so before then. Leaks happen of course, some civilian astronomer will notice something in the night sky, or a reporter will start asking inconvenient questions. Then they'll shut down the stock market, declare martial law and prepare the people as best they can – at best a week before impact. A few days at worst.
"They'll probably use nuclear missiles, but they'll have to coordinate with several other countries worldwide to be effective and there might not be much time to prepare the missiles or warheads. But you have to understand something, they don't have a specific target to engage – the planet is going to pass through a cloud of rocks, so any nuclear weapons would be best used not as a targeted weapon, but as a shield destroying or knocking incoming asteroids away. In order to cover the whole globe for as long as we're going to be inside the cloud, you're going to need a lot of ordinance launched to precise orbits and detonated at precise times.
"Considering the logistics, organization needed and the politics involved, I doubt using a missile screen will be very effective. They might be able to target and destroy the larger of the asteroids though." I shrugged my shoulders, hoping to conceal the fact that I really had no idea what the people in charge would do. I had no concrete knowledge on available resources and capabilities, just wild-ass guesses.
Dave nodded, obviously understanding, "We have to take care of ourselves then. Do you think we could survive it?"
I sighed, "I don't know ... bad as it might be, I think we have a good chance. The real bitch will be getting prepared and being someplace where we can survive the aftermath of the impacts."
Missy was obviously unhappy, once again visibly holding back tears. I guess she expected the people in charge to have more power and control over the world and the big bad things that could threaten us. A little naïve maybe, but that's what made her Missy.
"I have a plan, or at least the bare bones of a plan." I told them, sliding over a legal pad that I had spent the morning furiously writing on. I was hoping to stem any gloomy introspection and get them thinking and taking action. "First and foremost we need some more people. Only people we know and trust. Preferably people with no or little family." I didn't need to say, 'like us'. "Get them to meet us here for lunch maybe. Then we fill them in and put them to work - we have a whole lot of chores and research to do."
They were both nodding in agreement while skimming my notes. Good, they were focused now.
"I need to run an errand. I'm not sure exactly when I'll be back. I'll call." I told them, heading out the door. They hardly acknowledged me. They were murmuring to each other now and adding their own notes to the legal pad.
I felt a little better. Things were going to get bad – very bad. But if my friends and I worked together we had good chances to survive it.
Plus, I had a secret ace in the hole that would make things much easier.