Chapter 2: Doriana

Hunger eventually drove us from the bed. She spent another ten minutes in that bathroom “freshening up” again, and when I went in there to relieve myself, I saw a pair of blue nylon panties drying on the edge of the tub. She was back in those tight shorts and the brief top and short boots that she’d been wearing when we met. My khaki pants and short sleeve shirt made up my high school “uniform,” but I’d grabbed everything in the outdoor store that I could find in XXL (which hadn’t really been that much), and I intended to change when I could.

For a girl that kept telling me that she’d “do whatever I said” in this adventure, Wanda did a lot of insisting. For example, she refused to do one more thing in that farmhouse until we had “moved the dead people somewhere else.” There were no dead people, I told her flatly. But it turned out to be a firm mandate, and we picked up the seven small piles of clothing that we found and consigned them to one of the spare bedrooms. There had evidently been one woman (elderly, by the looks of the clothing) near the kitchen counter. A man’s work clothes were in and around a chair by a kitchen table. He, by all appearances, had been enjoying a cup of coffee and looking at a tablet computer.

Three men had been working outside. A younger woman’s and a little girl’s piles of clothing were still inside. Those two individuals obviously hadn’t yet made it to breakfast. It looked like the girl had been dressed for school. She had been about ten, judging from the framed pictures we saw on the wall that ran along a set of stairs leading up to the second floor.

The food in the refrigerator was still cool, and Wanda set to work making some sandwiches out of various things she scrounged in there. While that was going on, I went back outside and circled the house until I found what I was looking for: a generator unit that was sitting next to a relatively modern transformer box. A lot of richer rural residents had backup power supplies. I had seen a small windmill near the road leading up to the farm, but it looked more like it was for irrigation than electricity. The generator had its own fuel tank, which I discovered was almost full. The little engine was self-priming, and it started on the first pull of the cord. Satisfied, I went back inside.

“The lights are on!” Wanda shouted, running up to me and giving me a hug and a kiss.

“Do tell.”

“You did it,” she said, nodding, finally understanding. She sighed deeply. “You can do anything!”

“Please keep thinking that.”

She had made ham and cheese sandwiches. The bread was fresh, and she’d garnished things with lettuce, tomato, pickles and mayonnaise. Somewhere, she’d found some potato chips. It tasted wonderful. There were three big sandwiches, two for me, and I groaned in satisfaction when it was finally consumed. I checked my watch, sat back and stretched.

“Jacob, are we going to stay here?”

“For a little while. I’m going to stash the guns here. We won’t leave until we have a firm plan.”

“What’s first?”

“Unpack the stuff from the camping store so we can reorganize and study locations. Is your comm device charged? We’re both going to be making a lot of calls tonight, assuming we can find any active networks.”

“Who are we going to call?”

“Lots of people. The big question is: Will anybody answer?”

I drove the EV around to the house and backed it up to the front porch, then left Wanda to unload it. Next, I investigated the big barn; and found, as I had hoped, that there was more than enough room for the two pickups. There was also evidence of animals, including at least one active horse stall (the droppings were still fresh). I also found food and water dishes for cats. There was a chicken coop, replete with fresh eggs. But not one animal, anywhere, dead or alive.

Back at the house, I helped carry in the last of the items, then I drove that truck into the barn, as well, and plugged it in to recharge before closing the big door and making sure everything was secure. I carried the eggs inside and gave them to my new life-partner.

“What could it possibly mean?” she asked me earnestly, weighing the eggs in her dainty hands. “Does any of this fit into your theory about what happened this morning?”

I shrugged. “Like I said before, ideas are cheap. Then, once a hypothesis has been made, it’s easy to start dovetailing all the new facts in, making them fit.” I paused and thought some more. “Yes, there’s a possible explanation; But, in the end, it’s all just as cockamamie as the foundation it’s built on. Let’s do some digging. Make some calls. I could eliminate all of my conjectures with a little more of the proper data.”

It was late afternoon now, and the sun would be setting soon. There were too many things to do, not the least of which was to secure this place. I started making mental lists, trying to figure out what materials I’d need to hide things and maybe set a few traps. In the midst of all that, there were hundreds of questions that needed answering.

I picked up the tablet that had been left on the kitchen table. The house’s network came back up when power was restored, but the device was protected. I got up and drifted toward the dining room. “Could you try to call all the contacts you have for your school? If there’s somebody back in your home town that you know, see if you can give them a call, too. Phone anybody you can think of. See if anyone’s left.” I hesitated. “What IS your hometown?”

“Price Hill, near Cincinnati.”

“Great. I’m going to look around a bit. Back in a sec.” But I had another thought and paused. “Disable your phone’s location reporting before you call.” She nodded.

I wandered upstairs looking for any room that might have been used as an office. One of the four bedrooms up there was crammed with filing cabinets. A small desk had a computer cube sitting in front of a gaming keyboard, and I unplugged it, stacked it on top of a few choice cardboard folders, and I carried it all back down to the Dining room.

“Any luck?” I asked her.

“No. I connected to a few numbers at school, but they just rang and rang before going to voicemail. All I’ve gotten so far from Ohio is a notice of connection error.”

I nodded. “Makes sense. Let’s set up the dining room table as our communications hub. I found an old cube. Still haven’t cracked the tablet.”

She drifted into the room. “Let me see it.” I handed it to her, then set to work getting the cube fired up. I couldn’t tell how old the thing was. The cube had been the standard home computer since the late-twenties, and they were always the same format and size: 15X15X15 centimeters. The earliest models had used plug-in peripherals. By the mid-30s, literally everything was wireless, and the only thing on the smooth external surface was the manufacturer’s name and a couple inset lenses for the holo-display and camera. This looked to be an old one, since it came with a plug-in charging pad. I was surprised to see that it wasn’t encrypted. The cubes only had one thing the laptops didn’t ... bigger internal storage, which is really only important if you’re a data hoarder or have something to hide. Like porn. This one had a zettabyte, and was using about 30% of that for actual storage.

“Got it,” she told me, holding up the tablet and patting one of the file folders. “Last six of his social.”

I nodded. “Great work. Remember to kill the location reporting, then start looking around. Even if this thing is world-wide, the web’s going to come down in bits and pieces.”

She grinned broadly, set the tab down in front of her on its built-in stand and began poking and swiping.

The cube was mostly useless. I’d rather use my watch. As I suspected, the thing was packing a whole shit-pot of porn. There were also more than a million books that ranged in genre from barnyard sex novels to the Bible. Like I said: data hoarder. I disabled location on the thing, then did the same with my watch. Finally, I pulled up my copy of the Acton comm directory and looked up a number. Taking a deep breath, I touched the connect prompt, voice-only.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Gonzoles, it’s good to hear your voice. This is Jacob Jones.”

“Jacob! Hi! I didn’t see you at school this morning. Are you okay?”

I hadn’t planned this conversation very well. “Um ... My mother was out of town. I went to check up on her.”

“Oh. Did ... Did you find her? Is she okay?” I didn’t know how to answer that, and I was silent for too long. He continued. “Jacob, I am so very sorry. I only met her a couple times, but she was...”

“Mr. Gonzoles, you’re one of my favorite teachers, and one of the few people in this world that I actually trust. I’d like to share what little information I have. In return, I’d like you to be square with me and tell me whatever you know. Deal?”

I heard a long sigh. “Okay. The mayor has declared martial law; but he doesn’t really have that authority, and everyone has pretty much just blown him off. He ordered the sheriff’s department to barricade the routes out of town, but the sheriff simply told him no. He said he wasn’t about to start shooting people, and he especially didn’t want people to start shooting at him. They’ve called a meeting at City Hall for seven o’clock, but they also requested that people bring any personal firearms with them and turn them in. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if nobody showed up.”

“Sounds about par for the course,” I said. “Is there anybody else? Have you heard from any other communities that weren’t affected?”

“Yes. Yoncalla made it. Also, Reedsport, down on the coast, though I hear Coos Bay was hit by whatever this was. I’m beginning to think that all the larger towns and cities were. Eugene is completely deserted.”

“This is going to sound weird, but please humor me. Are all the pets and farm animals in Acton still there?”

There was a long pause. “Yes, as far as I know. I’m sitting here petting my cat as we speak.”

“How about Yoncalla and Reedsport?”

“I have no idea,” he said. “I’ll try to find out.”

“Never mind,” I told him. “Of course, they’re still there.” I sighed heavily. “There’s no place unaffected between Acton and Junction City. It was deserted, also. There was some sort of crash at the Eugene Airport; I saw the smoke. Some town north of Junction City was also unaffected. There was a vehicle driving south into town, but I didn’t pursue it. Also, some town on the east side of I-5, north of Springfield was spared, but I don’t know which one. That’s all I have for you, Mr. G. I’ll try to call you again at this number next week. Goodbye, sir. And good luck.”

“Same to you, Jacob. Thanks for the info. Goodbye.”

I took a deep breath and stood, turning toward Wanda, and I was startled to find her standing right next to me. There were tears streaming down both of her cheeks. “Hey,” I said uncertainly. “What’s wrong?”

“You!” she sobbed. “I ... we just ... I’m such a ... You didn’t...”

“Hey!” I repeated, reaching out with both hands and pulling her into my arms. “What the hell is the matter?”

“You ... You ... You...” She seemed to have reached that stage in a crying-fit where she couldn’t find enough breath to say anything.

“Shhh,” I ordered, holding her and petting her hair. She snuggled into me, sobbing and whimpering. “Take all the time you need,” I continued. “When you’re ready, tell me what’s wrong.”

After a full minute, she leaned back slightly in my arms and looked up into my eyes; but her face dissolved into utter despair again, so I just drew her back into me and held her some more. Finally, she made another attempt.

“I’m such a horrible person!” she blubbered.

“No. No, you’re not. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I dragged you into that bedroom and practically raped you! Then I told you how happy I was! And your MOTHER had just died!”

“Oh,” I said thoughtfully. “Oh, that.”

She looked at me as if I’d truly lost it. “Oh, that?!” she parroted incredulously.

“Yeah. Well ... As far as I’m concerned, the jury’s still out on that one.”

It seems that I’d just shocked the tears right out of her. She blinked at me slowly, started to say something, thought better of it, and closed her mouth. But then, she decided to take another stab at it. “You ... think that your mother ISN’T dead?”

I grinned and nodded. “Exactly. There’s really no evidence of that, is there?”

She blinked slowly and looked around. “You ... You think everybody’s still here?”

I let my smile crumble into a smirk. “Well, of course they’re not still here! That’s ridiculous!”

She backed away from me, perhaps needing to study me from a different perspective. Suddenly, she seemed to have an idea. “You think they were all taken by the Rapture, don’t you?”

Now it was my turn to be shocked speechless. I tried to see her through a different philosophical filter, but couldn’t quite do it. “Um ... Are you ... um ... Are you evangelical? I mean, I’d certainly respect that. Um ... Are you?”

I could see the gears spinning in her pretty head, but they didn’t seem to be connected to each other.

“No?” she ventured. “Are you?”

I took a breath. “No. So ... in answer to your question: No; in my opinion, they were NOT taken by the Rapture. Or magic, or aliens, or ghosts.”

“And they’re not dead?”

I shrugged and smiled sadly. “There’s certainly no physical indication of that. It’s really hard to prove murder without a body.” I studied her for another minute. “Do you want me to tell you what I think happened?”

“NO!” she snapped. She glared at me. “You are NOT smarter than I am!”

I smiled broadly. “No, I am not.”

“If you can figure it out, then I can too!”

“Yes, you can.”

She thought about that for a while. “Is there anything about this that you know and I don’t?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

“What about the animals? You know something about the animals, don’t you?”

I soured at the question. “Ah. That. Yes, that certainly throws an ominous suggestion into the whole equation.”

“Ominous?”

“Maybe the word ‘sinister’ would be more appropriate. People die all the time. So do animals. Nature doesn’t care. Neither do computers.” I let that sink in. “Yes, ‘sinister’ is precisely the word I’m after.”

“But you said they DID’T die!” she yelled, almost pleadingly.

“But they WOULD HAVE, Wanda! Don’t you see? Without the humans, the pets and farm animals would all die. Slowly and painfully.”

She blinked and sat down. “I guess they would. But they’re not going to ... because they’re not here anymore.” I let her chew on those points for a moment. She seemed to think of something else. “You told your teacher that there was another unaffected town somewhere north of Springfield! How do you know that?”

I gave her a tolerant look. “Because, whatever that little town is, you were driving through it at 7:47 this morning. It’s the only possible explanation for you still being here.”

She stared at me, open-mouthed, and I could tell she was trying to think of any argument to that. I decided to just stand there, neither aiding nor debating, letting her puzzle it out for herself. Finally, she sighed deeply, then she reached up with both of her hands and fiddled with the connection that held her top together, just below her breasts. The thing gave way, gapping widely, and her bare boobs bounced and settles, those nipples pointing right at my face again. I was reminded of the old videos of haunted house movies, where the eyes in a painting seemed to follow you everywhere.

“Uh ... Wanda...”

“I need to be held now,” she said softly. “I need to feel your body against mine again. I need to feel you inside me again. I need to surrender to you again.”

“I ... um ... have to turn off the lights. Uh ... Lock the doors. Um ... Secure the house.”

“Please, Jacob? Please?” She shimmied out of her shorts, and dropped the top garment through the implementation of a slight shrug. What had happened to her shoes? She was completely nude. Shyly, she reached out and took my hand lightly in her own. “Please?” Her voice seemed to be getting softer and softer. The other hand joined her first, and she gently moved my palm to her right breast. “Ooooo ... Please?” It was just a whisper now.

I jerked my hand back away from her, which startled her into momentary silence; then I scooped her up into my arms.

“OH!” she squeaked. She looked down at her body, which was reclining in my arms the way it might in a hammock. Her thin, shapely legs were together, her feet crossed at the ankles. Her arms, which were down at her sides, came up and went around my neck. “Holy shit!” she gasped.

She felt light and fleshy. I strode across the dining area, into the hallway and back toward the bed we had shared earlier. Nothing else seemed to matter in the world. Only me. Only her. I felt ... animalistic. I felt ... alive. Of course, I had absolutely zero experience with all this up until this afternoon; and, looking back at it now, this hormone rush is what keeps our species afloat. Too bad it also seems to quash all sense of logical reason. I would realize that soon. Long before morning, I would come to know the truth about these urges and my own feelings. But before that, they would damn near kill me.

As I tossed her toward the center of the bed, she issued a laughing shriek; but she smoothly rebounded, and was on her knees at the edge of the bed, facing me, while I stripped the shirt over my head. Her hands were tugging on my belt, then fingers pulled the button free and tugged down the zipper. I only paused to study her for a moment before I figured out what her goal was; and by that time, my prick was already deep in her mouth.

“Oh, Christ, Wanda!” I gasped. The fingers of my right hand went to her head, and they were suddenly lost in her hair. “You know I won’t last long if you...”

“That’s okay, Jacob. You’ll (slurp) last much longer (slurp) the second time (slurp), and the third time (slurp), and the fourth time (slurp), and the...”

“Wanda!” I groaned, and I pulled my body from her. Then, I spun to my right, away from her, and sat down on the bed, leaning forward to start untying my shoes. Moaning softly, she knelt behind me, her breasts pressing into my back, and she began rubbing her palms across the front of my shoulders and the top of my chest as far as she could reach. I finished with the shoes and socks, and I stood and stripped the pants and underwear from my hips; then I pushed her toward the center of the bed as I climbed in. Grabbing a shoulder, I shoved her onto her back.

“Who’s in charge here?” I asked her sternly.

She stared up into my eyes. “You. You are.” She reached between us and grasped my cock.

“Be still, girl. I’m having my way with you,” I growled.

She smiled and pulled her hand away, then slowly reached for me again, stroking the sides of the shaft lightly, tickling me with her fingertips. “Can I just a little? Please?”

I sighed despite my attempt at control. “No more than that.” I considered our position. “Spread your legs.” She did so immediately, then inhaled sharply as I explored her with my fingers. Still not content, I lowered my face to her left breast and began sucking on her nipple. She arched up at me in response, while her hips shifted right and left, up and down, thrusting at the ceiling and grinding back into the mattress, as I poked and prodded, stroked and rubbed. It seemed to me that her lungs were taking in more air than they were expelling.

“Jacob, I’m about to lose myself again. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

I clenched the nipple between my front teeth, and I started flicking it savagely with the tip of my tongue. At the same time, I plunged my middle finger into her sopping canal, then used the end of my thumb to rub circles around her clit. Her pelvis began levitating off the surface of the bed, pressing up into the hand that was violating her.

“It’s going to be a really big one, Jacob. I can’t stop it. I don’t have any control at all. No control. No control. No ... Aaaiieee!” And her whole body jerked and spasmed and convulsed. Her right hand wrapped around my cock and squeezed so hard it made me wince. It seemed to go on and on and on; until finally, she just seemed to collapse. I wasn’t sure she was even conscious.

Her grip had loosened on my shaft, but she left her hand there. Then her free hand came up and stroked the side of my face. “Take me now. Please. Cum inside me. Please.”

I kissed her softly. “Not yet.”

She looked at me curiously. “What is it?” she asked softly.

“You told me earlier today that you’d never had a boyfriend. Am I your boyfriend now?”

She gave me a weak smile. “Yes?”

I nodded. “Good. That’s the way I feel, too. So now ... no secrets. Somebody hurt you. Who was it?”

A tear sprang to her left eye. “Please, Jacob. I don’t want...”

“No secrets. Tell me what happened to you. Who was he?”

The tear slid down her left cheek toward her ear. “My brother.”

“Your brother abused you? How long?”

“About a year. A little less. He came into my room. Then he used me. Then he left. It hurt. At least, it did at first.”

“And you never told anyone?”

Her tears were silent. “I told my mother. She caught me crying one afternoon when she was home from work. She told me to tell her what was wrong. So, I did.”

“What did she say about it?” I asked.

“The worst possible thing. She said: ‘The bastard! He told me that he wouldn’t touch you! He promised that, if he left you alone, I’d be the only one!’”

I was horrified. I hoped it didn’t show in my eyes. “What did she do?”

“She took me to the doctor. Got me a birth control implant. Then she gave me a small bottle of lubricant. Told me that the reason it hurt was because I was dry.”

“Oh, Jesus, Wanda!”

She looked up at me and nodded. “You hate me now.”

“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

“You hate me because I’m weak. Because I didn’t stop him. Because I stayed in that house for almost a year and didn’t leave. Now that you know, you can never ‘unknow.’ You’ll always hate me because...”

“I don’t hate you! I love you, Wanda. I’ll always love you.”

She smiled through her tears. “You big oaf! You can’t love a weak girl like me. Especially now that THIS has happened! In the new world, you need ... you DESERVE ... a girl who...”

I kissed her. Hard. And I kept it going for a long, long time. She seemed to tense, and then she finally melted in my arms. When it ended at last, I left my lips brushing hers. “I love you,” I whispered.

“You big oaf!” she panted.

I sat up and looked down at her. “What kind of hold did he have over you? And ... how did you break it?”

She shrugged. “I’ve always done whatever I was told; in school, at home. Everywhere. All the time. That’s just the way I’ve always been. He told me that first night; I remember it was just a day or so after my eighteenth birthday; he told me that if anyone ever found out, I’d never get a job, never be respected, no man would ever want me. And that I’d break Mama’s heart. So, I became a co-conspirator in my own assault. His price for silence was for me to leave my bedroom door unlocked.” She heaved a sigh. “Then, six months ago, I got the scholarship. Mom ordered me not to tell him. She helped me fill out the forms for the school that was the farthest away. She helped me apply for school-supported jobs. She got me an airline ticket and arranged for a place to stay off-campus. While he was gone, she helped me pack and took me to the airport.” She took a big breath. “And ... here I am.”

“And here I am, right beside you,” I told her gently.

That seemed to take her breath away. “You big oaf!” she whispered.

During the whole interaction, she just lay there, her legs still spread, just as she’d been when I was touching her. I rolled atop her. “I want you. Please, can I have you now?” I asked.

In response, she reached between us and guided me into her. The whole “brother” thing hadn’t done much for my libido, but her nearness had caused sufficient swelling of my member to pose no impediment at all to entering her slippery, fleshy tunnel. Once I was fully inside her, she brought her hands up and let them roam my shoulders and chest. As I set up a rhythm, she looked up into my eyes with a gaze that bordered on adoration.

“We should ... find a doctor ... and ask ... about ... removing the ... implant,” she said softly between strokes. I paused, questioningly. “We need to think about repopulating the new world,” she told me. She seemed to be blushing. I suddenly felt hard as a rock.

I picked up the pace, more than a little surprised that I was able to hold out this long. She felt wonderful. Thrusting harder still, she began issuing little “Oh!” exclamations after each driving shove of my hips. I began to be concerned about my weight crushing her body, but her legs had by now scissored around my waist, and she appeared to be pulling me more into herself. Suddenly, her arms flew around my neck, and she arched up into me. How had she known that my time had come? Her lips were next to my ear. “Yes, Jacob! Now! Now!”

I think I yelled something, but I can’t remember what it was. The liquid was rocketing out of me, and I felt like I was at the giving-end of a firehose. Her inner muscles clenched and relaxed a few times. I felt suddenly drained, not just of my reproductive juices, but of all of my strength, as well.

“Ssshhh,” she hushed me, whispering in my ear. “Oh, my darling Jacob. Let go. Let me hold you.”

And I didn’t resist the pull of sleep. I simply gave in to the most comforting feeling I’d ever experienced in my whole life.

I was suddenly awash in bright, bright light. The overhead light in the bedroom had been off when I carried her in here, but it was on now. I was halfway between lying on my right side and on my stomach. In one smooth motion, I spun my body to the left, rolling and sliding, and I stood beside the bed, facing the door. My eyes adjusted quickly, and I found myself looking at a man holding a shotgun.

“Holy goddamn fuck!” the guy said. “You are one big dude!”

I quickly tried to assess. Wanda was sitting up in the center of the bed, clutching a sheet between her breasts. She didn’t seem to realize that she was simply accentuating them rather than hiding anything. The bathroom door was on the opposite side of the bed. It was obvious neither of us could escape that way. I took in the items on the dresser, to my left. A hairbrush, a jewelry box, a stack of envelopes that might have been old mail. Nothing of use. I looked back at the man. His eyes hadn’t left my face. There was a young woman standing beside him and another man behind him, out in the hall. All of them appeared to be armed.

“Dori,” the man said calmly, “please point your shotgun at that pretty girl’s head.”

I saw the barrel of the weapon move upward. “Okay, Frank.”

“Now,” the guy continued. “I want you to look at the very large naked man. Are you doing that?”

“Yes, Frank.”

“If he makes any sudden movement at all, I want you to pull the trigger and blow the pretty girl’s head off. Okay, Dori?” When she didn’t respond immediately, he spoke a little more loudly. “Okay, Dori?”

“Okay, Frank.”

Slowly, slowly, slowly I moved my hands out away from my body and raised them to about shoulder height. I kept my attention centered on good old Frank.

The man nodded. “What’s your name, doll?” he asked. His gaze never wavered from me.

“Wanda.”

Frank nodded. “Very nice to meet you, Wanda. It just so happens that I represent a wonderful new employment opportunity; and it’s one that you simply mustn’t pass up.”

“Let him go and I’ll do whatever you want,” Wanda told him flatly.

He chuckled. “That might be an interesting deal. Unfortunately for you ... and especially for him ... we aren’t making any deals this evening. You will do exactly what I say, simply because it’s what I want from you. And he will die, simply because that’s what I want from him.”

I saw the sheet drop from her body. “Please?” she begged. “I’ll fuck you. I’ll fuck you all. Just please don’t hurt him.”

His smile broadened. “Oh, yes you will,” he said smoothly. “But sorry, there are no openings in the corporate structure for big dumb jocks.” He stepped in the opposite direction from the woman, opening up the way for the man behind him to enter. “Stan, take our human refrigerator here outside.”

I shook my head. “No way, man. I’m not going anywhere.”

Frank seemed impressed. “Ah. It speaks. Do what we tell you, dude, or we pop your girlfriend.”

I shook my head. “She is exactly what you’ve been looking for. You’re not about to kill her, now that you’ve found her.”

The smile slid from his face. “Okay, I’ll kill YOU, right here and now, you ugly fuck!”

I shrugged. “I’m dead one way or the other. Clean up the mess yourself, you son of a bitch.”

He growled, lifted the shotgun to his shoulder and aimed it at my head.

“Like tears in the rain,” I said.