Chapter 1

Marcus was annoyed. This wasn’t the deal. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t open to negotiations. Remy had promised. Typical, he thought.

“I’m starting to wonder if we should ever do any business”, he said to Remy.

“Hey, you know how it is. I try my best”, Remy replied, unfazed by Marcus.

“Do you, though?”

“You know I do. All deals can’t go the way you want, Marc”

“Yeah, I only need the deals that go through to go my way”

“It’s a gun. It works. You get some ammo. I mean, what’s not to like?”

“It’s a shit gun. The barrel’s been chopped off. There’s not nearly enough ammo”

“You want a mint gun? You go to East of the bridge, friend”

“Yeah, right”, Marc smiled. As if that was ever going to happen.

“I’m not asking for mint but this one could kill me just as easily as it could kill a deer”, snapped Marc.

“And there will be a place for you in heaven, Marc”, Remy said with a smile.

“I like building my heaven here”

“Yes, the tent is fabulous”

“It’s mine. I don’t owe anyone. That’s one step up and you know it”

“Yeah. Well, if you’re not buying, I’m leaving”, Remy said, putting the gun and the ammunition back in the bag. It was only five in the evening. A sale was still possible.

“Leave. And don’t come back”, Marc said. He stood up. He’d taken time off work to come here. Anaya wouldn’t be happy if we went back empty handed. “All this for nothing”, he thought to himself.

The return to work would take at least an hour. The new pathways they’d created were a huge help. People no longer needed to follow tree marks. Ten years ago, the same path was a day’s travel. The entire tribe had pitched in to do the work. It had taken them two months and Anaya was instrumental in the process.

She’d come up with the plan, arranged for all the implements, and helped throughout the process. She didn’t have to. She was already doing a lot. But she’d said that true leaders are workers first.

Anaya was young for the role. She was only thirty or so years old but there was no question that she was the real leader among them. For the first time in a long while, there was no opposition when it came to picking the leader. It had to be Anaya. It was obvious to every single one in the tribe. And she’d lived up to everyone’s expectations.

Marc was in awe of this young lady. He was fifty five years old and had seen a lot happen in his life but he’d never come across someone quite like Anaya. He respected the young woman a lot.

As he walked back, he decided that there was no point in lying to her. He’d own up to his mistake and face whatever repercussions followed. The sun was starting to go down. Walking around here after dark wasn’t a good idea. The danger was just way too high.

Marc retrieved his knife, just in case. The real danger wasn’t big animals, though. Marc knew that. It was the creepy crawlies. The spiders, the arachnids, the snakes — these were the ones that got you.

But there was nothing to worry, though, because in the distance, Marc could see the incline. It was not very steep and neither was it very long but it was a little marker. From the beginning of the incline, the tribe was only a five minute walk away.

There was a spring in his step as soon as he spotted the incline. Marc walked quicker. He wanted to get to the tribe, speak to Anaya, and head back to his tent. He wanted to get back to his wife. He wanted to spend the evening with her, looking at the sun going down. He wanted to have dinner with her. And then, he wanted to bed her.

Even though Emily was forty five years old, most people couldn’t tell. She looked
stunning, to say the least. A petite blonde, she’d been the crush of many a young man, including Marc. She was just twenty two when her family came to the tribe. Her parents were neither healthy nor were they well off. Emily was the breadwinner, she was the labour, and she’d provided for her parents from the start.

Marc remembered how she looked in those early days. She was a tall girl, that was the first thing he’d noticed about her. 5’9”, she’d proudly declared. She had brown eyes and blonde hair. And she smiled readily. Marc thought of how he’d look at her from a distance and wonder if she would be his some day.

Eventually, they’d become friends. They were both working to create the tribe’s fence and had bonded. To this day, he remembered their first kiss. It was around this time — the sun was going down, they’d just finished the day’s work, and were sitting together, having drink.

As she was looking at the sky, Marc’s eyes were on her. He was taking in the beauty next to him. He was staring at her breasts, the way they seemed to rest beneath her top. How her nipples were pointing out, affording him enough of a view to imagine how they’d look.

“You’ve got to kiss first, you know”, she’d remarked. Turns out, she was watching him perv over her.

They’d kissed right there and later in the night, they’d made love inside Marc’s rented tent. The New World marriage wasn’t very elaborate but they’d done it anyway and twenty three years later, he still had a massive crush on her. They still fucked like bunnies whenever they got the chance.

As he entered the fence of his tribe, his thoughts shifted to the failed mission of the day. He passed the tents and moved towards the centre of the settlement. The conversation was going to be difficult, he knew that. But there was nothing that he could have done. At least, that was going to be his defence.

As he got closer, Anaya looked up. For a young woman, Anaya looked mature. She even had a few creases on her face, mostly because of the stress of the job. She had a round face and full lips. Marc wasn’t one for appreciating eyes but those green eyes were a thing of beauty. They weren’t bright green. They were light and faded. It was as if her eyes contained all the sadness that the world had gone through in the last three hundred years or so.

“It was a bust, then”, she said, looking him in the eye.

“How’d you know?”, Marc asked, sitting down next to her.

“You’re not jumping around in joy”

“I’m not”

“Remy isn’t reliable. I told you. Several times”, she said, in a very flat tone.

“You did”

“Don’t tell me you paid him”

“Of course not”

“Okay, so it’s not all completely bad”

“There are only so many traders who’ll accept this, Anaya”, he said, handing her the Shrine coins. Tensions between the Shrine and the East were pretty high, at the moment. And given that most guns came from the East, traders had been refusing to accept Shrine coins for them. Nowhere to spend it on, they often complained.

Small independent tribes were getting caught in the fire. They belonged to neither countries and simply wanted to live. But given that they were small tribes, they had to rely on the countries to some extent. This little fight that the countries were indulging in was a huge problem for the independent tribes.

Anaya held one of the Shrine coins between her index finger and thumb. She put it in front of her face and rolled the coin backwards and forwards.

“You’ve got to find a way, Marcus”, she said.

“I know. This is my bad”, Marc admitted.

“It is. So, you better fix it. Now, come with me,” she said, getting up.

Marcus followed the young leader. She was wearing the traditional dress for the leader. A simple orange robe that covered her from her shoulders to her knees. Marcus had never behaved inappropriately with her but he was acutely aware of how beautiful this young woman was.

They passed a small door to enter the ammunition room or at least, what was left of it. It had been ten years since it was restocked and what was once a full room was now reduced to about five guns, one of which was badly malfunctioning. It had been twenty years since the Shrine and East decided to cut off ties. For the first ten years or so, the rivalry was just on paper.

Since the last ten years, though, the tensions had escalated. No one quite knew what caused the escalation but the effects were brutal. The bridge, which was a great symbol of unity was now deserted, with guards on either side. There was practically no trade and for independent tribes, life had become hell. Shrine Coins and The East Stamps, which were once interchangeable were now worthless, depending on where you showed up with them.

Protecting a small tribe like Marcus’ was becoming more and more difficult by the day.

As Marcus stared at the barren room, he wondered where it all went wrong.

Anaya walked over to the far end of the room, where the tribe’s safe was kept. Ari, a young lad of about 25 years was stationed right in front of it. While no one would even think of stealing, Anaya said that symbols mattered and a safe must always be guarded.

“Will you wait for us outside, Ari?” Anaya asked and Ari immediately left the room. He nodded at Marc on his way out.

“Take a look at this”, she said, gesturing to Marc to join her. This was odd. People weren’t usually allowed near the safe. Marc hurried over to the safe and peeked inside.

For a moment, it seemed like a joke. Marc was expressionless. He turned to Anaya and back to the safe. As the horror of it all dawned on him, he turned back to Anaya.

“That’s it?”, he asked her, his face almost turning white.

“That’s all there is”, Anaya replied. Her beautiful face took on a somber look. Her eyes fell to the floor for a second, before she looked back up.

“Ari doesn’t even know what he’s guarding”, she remarked, looking Marcus in the eye.

Marcus looked inside the safe again. The safe had five horizontal partitions and each of these were filled with Shrine coins bar the center rack. There, they stored the East Stamps. It had been ages since anyone looked at the safe. The last time Marcus saw it was almost ten years ago. There were three full racks of East Stamps.

Now, though, the center rack was almost empty. It contained four Stamps. That’s all. That was all that there was.

The tribe of the Fulleans was bankrupt.

“Tell me we have more”, Marc said.

“Nope. That’s all that we’re left with”, Anaya replied, looking at Marcus.

“Anaya, what the fuck are we going to do?”

“Well, we have nothing to worry about when it comes to food and tents and stuff like that. The products of the East — yeah, I don’t know what we’re going to do about that”, she said, closing the safe.

“So, you understand why Shrine coins matter now. We’ve got to find a way to buy guns and ammo with these coins”, she continued, leading Marcus away from the room.

Marcus followed his leader outside the office. They were standing in the center of the tribe, familiar faces smiling and nodding at them. As they exited the office, Ari went back inside.

“Does anyone know?”, he whispered to Anaya.

“Nobody”, she replied, smiling at one of the tribesmen.

“What are we going to do?”

“That, Marcus, I’m leaving up to you. I need at least eight guns and ammo to go with them. And I want them within a month. Use as many Coins as you need”, Anaya declared, as she waved at one of the kids. The little kid was Ari’s cousin and ran up to Anaya, who lifted the little girl up in the air, making her laugh loudly.

There was nothing to laugh for Marcus. He stood behind his leader and considered his options or the lack thereof. In the last ten years, he could think of exactly zero incidents where Coins were used to buy guns.

“The Shrine prohibits guns”, he said to Anaya, as she held the girl up in the air.

“It does”, Anaya replied, still looking at the girl, laughing with her.

“So?”

Anaya put the girl down and patted her on the head. The girl laughed and ran away. Anaya turned to Marcus.

“Get it done, Marcus. This is your thing, isn’t it?”

“Not for the last ten years”

“Time to get back in the game, I guess”, she said and walked away.

Marcus walked back to his tent, unsure of what to make of the conversation that he’d just had. For the first time, he doubted Anaya. How could she think that they could pull this off? He hadn’t been in the spy game in a decade and that decade happened to be one of the more consequential ones. Things had changed and they’d changed quite radically. There was no trade, there was outright animosity, and if you were to believe it, there were even rumors that there was a fight on the way.

There was no way that he could get back in the game now. No way.

He looked around and saw his tribe. This little tribe of independents who’d survived for 150 years, without siding with anyone. As the light from the sun started to give way to the darkness, he saw lamps being lit. The Shrine wasn’t running out of oil, thankfully.

Everyone knew that Stamps were in short supply but no one knew the extent of the problem. Marcus understood why Anaya hadn’t spoken about it. There was nothing that they could do about the problem. They’d simply have to find a way to live without it. There wasn’t much to be gained by letting that information out now and causing a panic.

But all of that was tomorrow’s problem, though, because Marcus had just spotted his wife. There she was, just outside their metal tent, sitting on a log, with drink in her hand. Right next to her was an empty log, a little mug, and that was all that Marc needed.

Marcus walked over to his wife, her smile his greatest joy, and planted a kiss.

“How’d it go?”, she asked him, as he took his seat.

“Bust”, he replied, taking a swig of his drink.

“Well, it is what it is,” she replied. A classic Emily line, Marcus thought.

It was one of the many things that he liked about his wife. She didn’t stress over things that she couldn’t control. She seemed to brave life with a smile, unlike him.

Marcus didn’t want to get into details about what happened with Anaya. There was time for that. For now, he simply wanted to sit by his wife and so he did. They watched the last rays of the sun go down, their little lantern the only source of light. He looked across and he could see a few other lights in the distance. Little families, making the best out of what they had.

“They say that back in the day, entire streets would be full of lights”, Emily remarked, eventually.

“Yeah, electricity. I know. They say the Shrine still has a way of using it. Apparently only the Monk can use it”, he replied.

“The East, too”

“Of course. They love stuff like this. Before things went bad, there were reports that they were very close to creating an entire grid. You know, like, electricity lights for everyone”.

“That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know. The Old World fell because of stupid things like that”

“I guess. I think there was more to it, though, you know?”

“I’m just glad that it isn’t there anymore”

“I think I’d like it”

“Too bad you’re stuck with this old man”

“Old? You certainly didn’t seem old yesterday night”, Emily said, turning towards Marcus with a naughty grin.

Marcus loved Emily. She was perfect. She looked like a goddess. She was a caring wife and a rock when things were difficult. But the thing that Marcus loved most of all was how horny she was. She had made him cum in ways that he’d never thought were possible. She’d shown him things that would make prostitutes shy. She could make him hard just with a few words, like she’d done now.

“Want to head inside and see if you have to reconsider?”, he asked, grinning.

“I’m sure I won’t have to reconsider but how about we check, just in case?”, she said, getting up.

Marcus followed his wife eagerly and slammed the metal door shut as soon as they were inside. He’d brought the lantern inside and they could faintly make out their bed in the corner of the tent.

Marc effortlessly lifted his wife, walked over to the bed, and rested her on it. Emily wasted no time. She immediately unzipped Marc’s trousers and pulled them down, revealing his thick cock. He wasn’t fully hard, yet.

She took his cock in her hand and kissed it, drawing a moan from her husband.

“I’ve missed you, big man”, she said, looking at his cock and wrapped it around her lips. It was less than twenty four hours ago that they’d fucked but Marcus knew her appetite. He wasn’t surprised. He let her enjoy his cock for a while.

Emily sucked on her husband’s cock with enthusiasm. She could feel him getting hard in her mouth. She loved that feeling. When he was fully hard, she took his cock out of her mouth and started licking it. There was something about pleasing him this way that made her extremely wet. She took a moment to remove the dress she was wearing, leaving her completely naked and then she got back to the business at hand.

Her tongue went down her husband’s hard cock to his balls. She brought out her saliva and drooled it all over his balls and used her tongue to spread it around. Marcus was grunting; he approved. She went lower, her tongue now playing with the base of his scrotum, balancing it on her mouth, almost playing with it.

Marcus held her by the hair and pulled her back. He took his cock and slapped her pretty face with it, his wife smiling at him. He pushed her on the bed and as he was getting on top of her, she stopped him.

“I want it there”, she said, a mischievous smile on her face. Before Marc could fully understand what she was asking, she turned around, got on all fours, and pushed her ass out.

“God I love you”, he said and held her by the hips. His wife had beautiful, shapely hips. He grabbed them and rested a hand on top of her butt. He gently ran his finger over her crack, making her moan. He went past her asshole and stopped at her pussy. She was wet. He applied a little pressure at her opening without going in. Emily pushed her hips back even further.

“You’re such a slut”, he remarked as he pushed a finger inside her pussy.

“Oh God”, she moaned loudly, as her husband began working his magic with his finger. Marcus knew her body extremely well and knew exactly how to make her cum. He pushed his finger deep inside her pussy and started fingering her. Emily couldn’t help but move her hips against his fingers.

“One more”, she moaned.

“Beg for it”, he said, sternly. He knew the effect it had on her.

“One more, Sir. Please”, she pleaded, practically humping his finger.

Marcus obliged. He pushed another finger inside her pussy and started moving it just the way she liked it. With his other hand, he started to rub her asshole. Emily’s moans grew louder. He spit on her asshole and spread it around her pink little hole. He could see her opening up. His fingers began to move faster, turning his wife’s moans to light screams.

“Fuck yes ... faster, baby”, she begged him. Marcus knew his wife was close. He went faster, while his other hand fondled her asshole. He pressed on it, as if he was trying to go in, but he didn’t. He kept teasing her until his wife was screaming.

“Yes yes yes yes yes”, she screamed as her orgasm washed over her.

“Fuck”, she said, breathing hard.

“Head down, baby girl”, Marcus said and Emily obeyed. She put her forehead on the pillow and opened her ass for her husband.

Marcus positioned his cock on his wife’s asshole. He started to push on her tight ring gently. It didn’t take long for her asshole to open up.He pulled his cock back a little and lubed it up with his spit before going further. Emily moaned as she took inch after inch of her husband’s thick cock. She was one of those women who could cum with anal sex and the couple had taken full advantage of that.

“Fuck, yes”, she moaned, as her husband’s cock settled inside her ass. Marcus started to slowly fuck his wife. As much as they enjoyed vaginal sex, there was something about how tight Emily’s asshole was, that drove both of them crazy.

Emily moved her hand to her clit and started rubbing on it. The sensation of rubbing her clit while getting her ass pounded was phenomenal. Just as she started picking up pace, she felt a hard slap on her ass and she moaned loudly.

“You like that, you slut?”, her husband asked, now fucking her faster.

“Yes sir”, was all that she could manage as she rubbed her clit harder and harder.

He hit her ass again and this time, it hurt.

“Yess”, she moaned, the pain fueling her.

Marcus knew full well that she could take more. He spanked his wife hard again, and then again, and then again. Emily was in tears now. He could hear her sniffling as she moaned. He went again.

“Fuck fuck fuck”, she cried. She was pretty much crying by now but her fingers were rubbing her clit furiously. She was getting close. Marcus held her hair and pulled her closer to him. He bent down, close to his wife’s ear.

“You make the perfect fucktoy, you slut”, he whispered to his crying wife. Moments later, he felt her legs shiver as she came. This didn’t stop Marcus, though. He just went harder, chasing his own orgasm.

His wonderful wife was crying in pain and pleasure. Her asshole was gripping his cock hard, and he loved the sight when he looked down — his wife, bent over, rubbing her clit still. He put his hands on her hip and pulled her even closer to him, burying cock deeper inside her ass. Emily was screaming but that only made him harder.

She could take his cock. He knew that, so he showed no mercy. The more she tried to pull her hips away, the harder he pulled her back, making her sob in pain. He could feel an orgasm building up inside, fueled not just by the feeling in his cock but by the absolute force that he was using on his wife here.

Her fingers were no longer rubbing on her clit. Instead, she was actively trying to get away, provoking him to use all his force. He knew how far he could take it. He didn’t allow her to get away and instead rammed his cock harder and harder into her ass until he was shooting thick ropes of cum inside his wife’s asshole.

They both stayed in that position for a while, recovering from their respective highs and catching their breaths. Eventually, Marcus pulled out and they both fell on the bed and Emily cozied up to him.

“I don’t think a lot of old men can do that,” she said, smiling at her husband.

Marcus grinned and looked at his wife. The tears were still on her face. He wiped them off and kissed his wife. He wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. She was everything that he’d wanted in a wife and so much more. As a cherry on top, she was a complete pain slut. The last thoughts in his head as he drifted off to sleep was how lucky he was.

Marcus awoke to the sound of the central bell. He opened his eyes to see Emily waking up, as well. The lamp in the tent was dull but it was still going. He got up and retrieved his ax from the corner of the tent.

“If it’s the fucking Rinitons again, they’re going to get themselves killed today”, he grumbled, putting on his clothes.

“Go easy on them, baby. They’re wanderers, you know that”, Emily replied.

“Yeah but why travel during the nights? Fucking idiots, I tell you”

“You say that and then you hear their sad story and then you offer them shelter in the office, Marc,” she said, smiling at her husband.

He looked back at her, and in a pretend angry voice said, “Not this time, I’m not”.

His wife just laughed.

“Take the lamp”, she said.

“Yeah yeah ... I’ll be back in an hour or so”, he said, as he stepped outside.

Emily, still naked, walked up to the door of the tent.

“Love you”, she said.

“Love you too, you sexy thing”, he gave her a quick peck and headed to the center.

As he got closer to the office, he could see Pete, Marcelle, and Mia already there, waiting for him.

“Rinitons?”, he growled, as he got closer to them.

They all turned to Juan, the security guard, who manned the bell. The bell was manned day and night by at least one person from the tribe.

“It was Lin again”, he said, almost amused. Lin was the guard who was posted to the northern outpost of the tribe. There was one guard in each direction, whose job was to look out for danger. Wanderers, other tribe members, suspicious people, herds of violent animals — anything the guard thought was a problem.

If they spotted a problem, they’d simply send a pigeon back to the tribe, with a small note containing which direction the pigeon was coming from and the alarm bell would go off. It was a simple system that was highly effective.

Over the last couple of months, wanderers who were deserting the Riniton tribe were spotted by Fullean guards. Mostly, they were harmless. The Riniton tribe was among many that were having issues lately. Food, security, safety — the Shrine and the East could provide these things much more effectively than independent tribes.

Each time they were spotten, the bell was rung, as an extra precaution. This was Anaya’s doing. She’d said that anything out of the ordinary must be looked at. And that meant sending a team each time they’d find these wanderers.

“Lin again”, sounded a voice in the distance. The group turned to find that it was Anaya. She was walking from her tent to the group.

“Now they’re traveling in the night. They’re going to get themselves killed,” Marcus almost shouted at her.

“Then you ought to be helping them”, Anaya snapped right back at Marcus. She considered him a close friend and a mentor but she knew that she had to keep up appearances. Marcus knew it, too.

“Well, I say we should get going”, Mia chimed in. Never one for small talk, Mia wanted to go to the outpost, check out what was happening, come back, and sleep.

The group set off, their swords and axes hung on their back and lamps in their hands. The journey would take almost an hour. There was a shorter way through a narrow pass but it was only used if they knew they were in danger. The path was full of lethal spiders. There was no reason to risk that now.

“I wonder why they’re traveling at night”, Marcelle said. At thirty years old, Marcelle was one of the youngest warriors of the tribe. He was also one of the first people to be born to Fullean parents. His parents were born in the tribe, they’d grown up in the tribe, and then came Marcelle. It was something that had made the entire tribe proud. While independent tribes were floundering everywhere, the Fulleans grew. They not only survived but they had thrived. A lot of credit for this went to the fact that the Fullean tribe was friends with both the Shrine and the East. It was one of the only tribes which had managed that. And Marcelle was the culmination of those policies. A native baby with native parents. Simply didn’t happen in a lot of other tribes.

“The Rinitons are almost done. The last time I checked, they’re down to three figures”, Mia said.

“Still doesn’t make sense to leave at night. It’s not like Kwame can ask them to stay”, Pete said.

“We’ll find out soon enough”, Marcus said. He didn’t care for the Riniton tribe. They always seemed to be hiding something. A couple of decades ago, he’d found their then leader, Emmanuel, trying to siphon off grains from the Fulleans. The sword came for Emmanuel’s neck and it was Marcus who’d delivered the blow. Rinitons knew not to mess with the Fulleans. They were simply far more capable. The Rinitons had apologized and their new leader, Kwame, made it a point to tell everyone that the Fulleans and the Rinitons were now buddies, even though there was little truth to that statement.

The path started to slope downwards. Marcus made a mental note to ask Ari to cut the weeds starting to grow back up. The paths were the only way for anyone in the surroundings to move about safely.

This path had a historical significance, too. It was the path that the first leader, Fullean had used. He had gone past the Shrine, not knowing its significance, and had taken this path. On finding high ground and a stream nearby, he had decided to plant his roots. Then came the wanderers, the sufferers, the ones with no home. He’d taken everyone in, even the cripples, and named the tribe, “The lost and the found”.

It was one of the oldest paths in the known world. There were suggestions that it was perhaps a remnant of the Old World. Marcus didn’t know for sure and he certainly didn’t care for all the stories about the Old World. As far as he was concerned, the Old World was gone and it was gone because of the stupidity of the people of the Old World. What was left now had nothing to do with them. It was the resilience of the survivors that built this modern world.

In the distance, he could make out the outpost. If you walked through the path, you’d probably not recognize that there was an outpost there. This was by design. The guard manning the outpost had to survive long enough to at least warn the tribe. So, the outpost was hidden among the trees. It was just strong enough to hold one or two people and was covered with branches, to make it practically invisible to anyone who didn’t know about it. Even the ladder to get up there was built of rope, so that the guard could pull it all up once she made it upstairs.