Tales of the Wastelander
Copyright© 2020 by C.H. Darkstrider
Chapter 9
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 9 - In today's world, a young man undergoes an experimental program, which he believes is giving him a new lease on life. What he and thousands of others don't know, is that they will be catapulted into a world that is far different from the one they know! Join Benjamin Lopez, as he seeks to find his place in this brave new world!
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Consensual Reluctant Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Hermaphrodite Fiction Science Fiction Post Apocalypse Time Travel Sharing Wife Watching DomSub MaleDom FemaleDom Spanking Gang Bang Group Sex Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory Swinging Interracial Black Female White Female Hispanic Male Indian Female Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration Lactation Masturbation Pregnancy Sex Toys Squirting Tit-Fucking Voyeurism Big Breasts Size
With the attack on the West Gate over, the militia then opened up the gates to check the corpses of the dead raiders. The militia checked each corpse, stabbing them a few times, before they picked them up, hauling them inside the town. Though it was distasteful, the raiders had items that could be used. So, a full check and seizure of what they had was not only happening but encouraged.
While they were doing this, Ben pulled his new arrows out of the corpses, as they were all still intact. Some militia eyed those arrows with admiration. They were impressed on how they could punch through the heavy armor the raiders wore. In fact, Tanny approached Ben with a burning question on his mind.
“How many of those arrows do you have, Ben?”
“I have about fifty right now. Why? Did you want a few of these?” Ben asked.
“Um, yeah! Those things would be great for defense and hunting!” Tanny enthused.
“Hunting? Why would you use armor piercing arrows to hunt game?” Ben queried.
“Have you seen the kinds of creatures out there that we hunt? I mean, the really big ones?” Mishele asked as she walked up behind Tanny.
“A few. I’m guessing that they have thick hides or scales?” Ben wondered.
“Ben, you have no idea! These arrows would make killing game so much easier! Most times, we have to sink three to five arrows in the beasts, just to bring them down! And that’s after we chase them down!” Tanny replied.
“All right, then. Here. Take however many you would like and divide the rest among whoever else wants some,” Ben told him, offering the quiver full of arrows.
“You’re just ... giving them to us?” Mishele almost choked.
“Yeah. Ylva is making some more heads right now and seeing how we have the gates well defended, I’m not needed here. I’ll head back to the forge and see about making some more. With enough help and materials, we might just have enough to outfit everyone with these new armor piercing arrows,” Ben told them.
“Thank you!” Mishele gushed before jumping forward to hug Ben. Ben hugged her back, then disengaged, before heading off into the town. While Tanny was handing out arrows to his fellow militia, Denys stepped up beside Ben, walking with him.
“Are you sure you will be able to make enough arrows to outfit the whole militia? You’d need to make at least two thousand arrowheads, just to have enough to go around!” Denys yelped.
“Relax, Denys. Like I said, as long as we have the materials and help, we can get it done. Besides, these arrowheads aren’t all that hard to make. From what I could see in the forge, we have plenty of materials. What I’ll need is the help. Would you mind fetching the smith’s apprentice and his daughter? Their help is what will be needed, if we’re going to have enough arrows by morning,” Ben said to the bigger man.
“If they haven’t strangled each other by now, I’ll send them over. If they have done it and or one of them has killed the other, I’m blaming you!” Denys told him with a growl. Ben just laughed and headed off to the forge, while Denys trudged along to the smith’s house.
Though he hoped they had resolved their differences, Denys prayed that Jorge and Kayt hadn’t murdered each other in the process. Though he had placed a bet against it happening, if they stopped fighting and started fucking, it would have been a much better outcome. Hell, Denys thought the very idea of that to be almost ... poetic. He walked up to the door and knocked on it, preparing himself for anything.
“Who is it?” came a tired response, and Denys recognized Jorge’s voice.
“It’s Denys. Are you all right in there, Jorge?” the militia captain asked.
“Yes, I’m all right, thank you for asking,” Jorge replied as he opened the door.
He was wearing his pants, but nothing else. If the sight of this didn’t catch Denys off guard, then seeing Kayt behind Jorge did. She appeared to be wearing a flimsy robe, but little else, which made her quite alluring. Denys almost laughed to himself until he remembered the bet that he just lost.
“I’m glad to see that you’re both still alive,” Denys sighed.
“What? You expected us to kill each other as we argued?” Kayt scoffed.
“Well...” Denys started, before he saw Kayt get a look on her face, like she wanted to slap him. He quickly changed the topic, not wanting to get beat up by either one of them.
“Anyway, I came here to tell you two that Ben is going to need some help to work the forge. The new arrowheads he created worked wonderfully, and he will need as many skilled hands as we can muster. He hopes to outfit the militia with these tomorrow,” Denys told them. Both Jorge and Kayt looked at each other, then back at Denys, before replying.
“Give us say ... twenty-five minutes? We need to get cleaned up and dressed before we come and work the forge,” Jorge told him.
“All right. I’ll let Ben know to get the second forge heated and ready. See you two in a bit.”
Jorge closed the door behind him and locked it, turning to Kayt. She smiled up at him, before leaning in, her lips finding their way to his. Jorge kissed her back, still amazed that they both had unrequited feelings for each other. Maybe now that they’d both fessed up, they might stop fighting. Well, at least long enough to be productive, he thought to himself while chuckling.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just thinking of all the times we got into it and how we’ve been dancing around one another like this,” Jorge laughed.
“At least we figured it out before we really DID kill each other,” Kayt snickered as she rested her head on Jorge’s massive chest. She then felt his hand sliding down her ass, before clasping one of her cheeks, his strong fingers digging into her pliable flesh.
“They are expecting us, you know,” she told him. While she enjoyed the idea, they both had a job to do.
“We have twenty-five minutes before we’re supposed to show up. It’s not like the forge is across town, you know,” Jorge drawled, as his other hand latched onto her plushy behind. Kayt looked up at her new lover and her eyes danced as she licked her lips. They had a little time, and it wasn’t that big a deal if they were a few minutes late.
Denys walked next door to where the forge was located, shaking his head. He honestly expected one of them to kill the other. Well, maybe beat the ever-living piss out of the other for sure. Them winding up in bed together wasn’t something he had foreseen, nor expected! He walked into the well lit forge and found Ben looking over Ylva’s work, inspecting each arrowhead.
“This isn’t too bad, Ylva! A little more practice and you’ll be a decent arrowsmith in no time!” Ben complimented the woman.
“Thank you, Ben!” she grinned while blushing slightly. “Hey there, Denys!” she replied, noticing the militia captain walking in.
“Hey there, Ylva! Working hard?” he asked.
“Hard enough. So, who won?” she wondered.
“Won what?”
“Don’t play coy, Denys! You know we made a bet. Who won?” Ben queried, raising an eyebrow at the man.
“You two did. They wound up in bed. Just like you said,” Denys replied with a sigh.
“So that’s what, five silver hects?” Ylva asked with a grin.
“Each. Here you go!” Denys grumbled, paying up the wager from his coin pouch.
Though he didn’t like losing, Denys was an honorable man and had no issue paying up. It’s not like he couldn’t afford to lose the money either, as a captain’s pay was substantially higher than that of a militiaman or woman. Ylva took all ten coins, as she was the only one with a pouch to keep them in. She tucked that pouch in between her bust, causing both men to snicker.
“What? Who’s going to reach for my tits to rob me?” Ylva asked.
“She makes a good point. You got any arrow shafts for us to put together? I’m sure the militia wouldn’t mind us converting the regular arrows you use to these new armor piercers,” Ben queried.
“They should bring their quivers in fairly soon. I left instruction with them to dismantle all their current arrows to be outfitted with the new heads,” Denys stated.
Seconds after he said that, several members of the militia arrived, carrying bundles of arrows. They had pulled the old heads off, so they could put the new ones on. Ben got to work immediately, fitting the new heads on and making sure the arrows themselves were balanced. He got maybe another fifty done, before he had to get to work with grinding the heads to the sharp points they needed to be.
Denys had the militia leave the arrows behind and redistribute the new arrows to everyone in the militia. It wasn’t much, but the numbers would increase soon, as Ben was working as fast as he could. There were at least a hundred arrowheads to grind, with Ylva pumping out more. The arrows themselves were thicker and longer than what he was used to, but he figured it was due to everyone’s size compared to his.
“Hello there,” a voice sounded, and Ben snapped his head up.
The voice came from Jorge, the old smith’s apprentice. Ben took in the sight of the man and smirked. He could tell that the man had finally worked out some tension, going by how he was standing. Ben also noticed that Kayt was standing close to Jorge, looking much the same as he was.
“So, did you two sort out your issues, or am I going to need a stick a hot coal up your asses for you to co-operate?” Ben questioned. Ylva guffawed at the suggestion, thinking the idea of it quite funny. Jorge and Kayt looked at each other, then stared back at Ben, with Kayt replying for the both of them.
“We’ll work together, under your direction. It’s clear you know what you’re doing, since I’ve been hearing talk about how those new arrows work,” Kayt stated.
“All right, then. Come on over and let’s get to work. I’ll show you how to make these Bodkin points,” Ben told them.
He grabbed a piece of metal with a pair of tongs and brought the metal to a solid heat, just above a yellow color. Ben then went to work, demonstrating how to shape, bevel and temper the arrowhead. It took him several minutes, but after the final product was set aside to cool, he put a pair of tongs in Kayt’s hands, while handing his tongs to Jorge.
“You’ve seen the process now. Let’s see how well you two do it,” Ben told them.
Without a word, Jorge and Kayt doffed their shirts and selected heavy leather aprons. Kayt was wearing an undershirt of sorts, which left her arms bare. Ben gave her the once over and noted how her arms were just as muscled and toned as Ylva’s. She must have had a fair amount of experience working the forge to have arms like that.
Jorge himself moved with a level of confidence and got to work. Ben observed what they were doing and checked each arrowhead they made. The steel wasn’t too hot when Jorge worked it, and Kayt had followed Ben’s instructions to the letter. Soon, they were cranking out arrowheads as quickly as Ben had. They made sure each Bodkin point was tempered properly, before setting them aside to cool.
“Well, I’d say you two have the hang of it. Ylva, let’s get to sharpening these suckers. They won’t kill many raiders if the edges are blunt,” Ben told her.
“I ... don’t know how to do that,” Ylva admitted.
“Come on, I’ll show you,” Ben told her, leading her over to the grinding stones.
It took a nearly half an hour to show how to edge and sharpen the arrowheads properly, but Ylva caught on. It wasn’t long before the four of them were working like a well-oiled machine. Kayt and Jorge shaped and forged the arrowheads, while Ben and Ylva sharpened and inserted them in the arrow shafts. Denys came by a few hours later with Lawrie, Mellany and Tasya in tow, hoping that progress had been made.
“Ben? How’s it looking?” Denys questioned.
“So far, so good. Got most of the arrows fitted with the new Bodkin points. Shouldn’t have too much issue outfitting the whole militia now,” Ben told him, gesturing at the neat piles of arrows.
“Wow! Do you think you could make more?” Denys asked, hoping that it was possible.
“How many more do you need?” Jorge asked, calling out from his anvil.
“Another four hundred? I got the fletcher and his apprentices to put together another four hundred arrow shafts, so they’re just waiting on some ... what did you call them Ben?” the militia captain questioned.
“Bodkin points. Armor piercing arrowheads. Think you got another four hundred in you, Jorge?” Ben queried.
“Between Kayt and I, I don’t see it being a problem,” Jorge smiled.
“First, we need a break. I’m starving!” Kayt replied while rubbing her middle.
“That’s where we come in. We brought your four some food from Sonja’s. Roast chicken, boiled vegetables and good crusty bread with butter and cheese,” Lawrie announced as he walked in, carrying a small bundle. Mellany and Tasya were right behind him, one carrying a pair of pitchers, while another carried a quartet of cups.
“Thank you!” Ben enthused, walking up to get some food. He let Ylva and Kayt go first, as he could tell they were teetering on the verge of getting hangry. Jorge noticed this and looked at Ben curiously. The women were done with getting their food and drink before Ben walked up with Jorge and they helped themselves to a plate.
“You let the ladies go first. Why?” Jorge asked purely out of curiosity.
“Common manners where I’m from. Let the ladies get their food first and us guys after they get what they want,” Ben explained.
“Are all men like this, where you’re from?” Jorge asked.
“Mostly, yes. Some guys aren’t, but they find themselves bereft of feminine company real quick. Where I’m from, being a jerk does you no favors,” Ben told him.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing this place you are from. Is it far?” Kayt asked.
“Yeah. Too far to get back to. Circumstance has found me here, thousands of miles from home and no idea how to get back,” Ben said, fibbing to the woman.
“I hope you find your back some day,” she told him sympathetically.
“Thanks. Maybe one day, I will,” he replied with a smirk, before diving into his food.
Hearing all of this gave Ben a sense of nostalgia and a tinge of regret. A part of him wished he had stayed behind with Samara and been there with her for the end. But he couldn’t focus on ‘what ifs’, Ben had to focus on the now. Though he knew it would do him no good, Ben knew he’d feel regret for leaving Samara behind for the rest of his life. The only thing he could do now was to move on and live.
“Is there any way that we can help you with making these new arrows?” Mellany offered.
“In the creation of them, no. I think we’ve got that handled,” Ben mumbled around a mouthful of food.
“There must be something we can do,” Tasya suggested, trying to think of a way to help.
“I know how you two can help. Give me and Lawrie a hand in distributing these new arrows to the militia! When we’re done with that, we can collect what the fletcher and his apprentices have made and bring them here to be finished,” Denys suggested.
“That’s a good idea! Keeps the militia at their posts, so they can keep watch for incoming attacks,” Ylva agreed with a smile.
“All right. Tell us where you want these delivered Denys,” Mellany said, stepping up to him, right with Tasya. Lawrie stepped up as well, offering to carry as much as his arms could hold.
“OK. Let’s get these loaded into their quivers!” Denys said as he left with Lawrie, Mellany and Tasya in tow, carrying away all the finished arrows.
“Let’s eat fast, folks. We have a lot of work to do and need to get it all done before we get too tired,” Ben told his new friends. With no further prompting, they all wolfed down their food before getting back to work.
Tanny was overlooking the cleared space from his post on the North Gate. He remembered the fight there just over a day ago. It was a desperate thing, as the raiders had caught them just as they were returning from patrol. Everyone was tired and in need of a good rest when they had broken out of the trees, catching them off guard.
If it hadn’t been for Ben and Ylva charging in when they did, the fight would have been lost, along with his life. He owed them much, and Tanny was wondering how he could repay them for saving his skin. He was mulling over some ideas when he sensed someone approaching from behind. Tanny whirled and heard a squeak, then relaxed his posture when he saw who it was.
“A little on edge there, Tanny?” Dynah asked, standing behind Mishele, who had jumped and stumbled back at his sudden movement.
“Wouldn’t you be, being assigned here for the night?” Tanny replied.
“That’s fair. Listen, Tanny, we need to talk,” Mishele started.
“Ugh! Spare me the bullshit apologies, Mishele! You did what you did for you, without taking other people into consideration,” Tanny growled. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a job to do.”
“Wait!” Dynah asked the man as he turned to leave and head off to another section of the gate.
“What is it, Dynah?” Tanny grumbled, making an exception for her, since he had loved her once.
“We’re both sorry about what we did to you! We made it impossible for you to trust anyone since then and we ... want to make it up to you,” Dynah started.
“Oh? How would the both of you make it up to me?” Tanny sneered, doubtful that the women were being sincere.
“Are you willing to listen to what both of us have to say?” Mishele asked him.
“I haven’t left yet, so that should tell you I’m listening at least,” Tanny sighed, just wanting to get this over with.
“I’m sorry that I was a cunt and stole Dynah from you. It was wrong of me to do it and I’m sorry that I did it!” Mishele started, falling to her knees in front of Tanny.
Tanny was surprised at seeing this, especially from Mishele! She was as unapologetic a woman as they came, but now, here she was, on her knees in front of him, begging for his forgiveness! Tanny looked over to Dynah, who had also dropped to her knees, looking up at him like she used to. He almost felt like ... he had, back before the nonsense Mishele had stirred up caused his heart to harden.
“I’m sorry that I just let myself be swept up in what happened! I loved you, Tanny! I still do!” Dynah confessed.
“Don’t ... don’t do that!” Tanny replied, his voice quivering. He could feel himself opening up, like he had once before, feeling hope fill his heart.
“Will you listen to us?” Mishele begged.
Tanny nodded, and both women got to their feet and walked up to him. They spoke to him about what they wished to give him. The two of them went on about how he not only deserved it, but that he had earned it from both of them. Tanny’s eyes went wide with shock and his mouth fell open as they told him the truth about what had changed recently and what he meant to them both.
“When did you wish to do this?” he asked, curious about how serious they were.
“After the raiders are dealt with and we can go back to our normal lives,” Dynah told him.
“If you wish proof of our sincerity, let this put your mind at ease,” Mishele replied.
Before he could say or do anything, Mishele drew a small knife from her belt. She pressed the blade to her palm, cutting into it, but just enough to draw blood. She then clenched her fist and raised it above her head, catching the falling droplets of blood with her mouth. Tanny’s eyes almost fell out of his head when he saw what she was doing! Wasting no time, he repeated the process himself, filling his own mouth with drops of his blood.
“By my word and blood, this promise is sealed,” Mishele chanted.
“By my word and blood, this promise is sealed,” Tanny repeated. The pair then came together and kissed, sealing their promise. Dynah watched as the two of them came apart a minute later. She smirked and did the same as they had, cutting her palm and drinking some of her own blood.
“By my word and blood, this promise is sealed,” she said to Tanny.
He repeated the gesture and kissed Dynah, letting everything he felt come to the surface. She moaned into the kiss, letting the man know how much she wanted this and wanted him. Slowly, they came apart, puffing. Tanny thought all the passion he had for Dynah had died long ago. He was happy that he was wrong about the both of them, as Dynah’s chest rose and fell as rapidly as his did.
“What are you three doing over there?” a voice came out of the darkness. Their heads whipped around, seeing it one of the members of the militia looking in their direction.
“Just discussing what we’re going to do when this is all over,” Mishele called out in response.
It wasn’t an outright lie, as that was something they were talking about. Tanny smiled and shooed the girls away, so others didn’t come around asking prying questions. Their business was theirs to know alone, and no one else’s. The women went back to manning their posts, while wrapping their cut palms up.
Tanny did the same and headed back to minding the North Gate. He smiled as he thought about what was to come once the raider threat was eradicated. Tanny had given a lot of thought and believed that dying in battle was a better way to go out than to continue living. Now, he had a reason to live and a damn good one, as far as he was concerned.
“Fuck dying in battle!” he said out loud to himself. “I’m gonna live!”
“The entire South Road team has been slain?!?” Gor’thaka raged.
“Yes, mighty Gor’thaka. Killed, piled up and burned,” the West Road leader replied meekly.
“How?? How did this happen?!?” he fumed, his gargantuan frame frightening all who stood near him.
“I don’t know, because I wasn’t there. The townsfolk have been getting bold, though! Whatever they’re doing, they have grown some serious balls to attack us as they have!” the man reported.
“They must have someone else calling the shots on what they do to repel us. But who is it? The mayor is a simpleton who doesn’t understand conflict or war, and there are no great warriors among them! Who is killing my men and denying us the right to rule here?!?” Gor’thaka roared.
“Great One, that is a question we have all been wondering. Whoever it is, they are smart! They not only slew the South Road group, but stole our supplies, weapon stockpiles and all our prisoners,” the leader told him.
“WHAT?!?!?” the Slavemaster roared, his anger rising beyond all known bounds. If he was angry before, he was beyond pissed off now. He reached for his mace, a gnarled and cruel looking implement that he only used when someone had failed him. Just as he put his hand over the weapon, a raider burst into the tent.
“What is it?!?” he growled, disliking interruptions when he was dealing out punishments.
“Another member of the West Road team has arrived. He says that he has information that he’d like to share with you, great Gor’thaka,” the raider told his boss.
“Show him in at once!” the Slavemaster stated, his anger temporarily abated. Though he still might kill the leader in front of him for his failure, that would depend on what knowledge this other raider brought with him. The man walked in and kneeled before the Slavemaster, showing his boss the respect he was due.
“Mighty Gor’thaka, I have news that I’m sure will make you smile when I speak of it,” the raider told the massive man.
“Speak it!” Gor’thaka demanded.
“I must first impart bad news, my lord. Four men have deserted us, thinking this town is not worth their time,” the man said.
“What?! Who??” the Slavemaster growled.
“Jarx, Solan, Tahrn and Felis,” the raider told him.
“Pah! They were mercenaries, but they will be dead mercenaries when I find them!” Gor’thaka rumbled.
“I told them as much. But the news I bring is that the town apparently has a Pinkskin within their walls. This Pinkskin is who I believe is helping them with pushing back against us,” the raider stated.
“A Pinkskin?!? This far north?? Where did he come from?” Gor’thaka raged, wondering how such a small race could prove to be so much trouble.
“I saw this Pinkskin fight. I was with the raid against the town’s North Gate,” one of the guards piped up, getting Gor’thaka’s attention.
“Well?? Spit it out!”
“The Pinkskin came with traders, coming from the Northeast road. He fought with a bow, which proved to be deadly in his hands. Each time he loosed an arrow, one of our boys fell dead. This Pinkskin has a sharp eye, so if you see a bow in his hands, duck!” the guard told Gor’thaka.
“He came from the Northeast road? There’s nothing up that way but ruins full of Screamers!” Gor’thaka grumped.
“Seems like there is more than that up that way. I can attest to the Pinkskin’s skill with a bow. When we were trying to batter down the West Gate, he shot at us with arrows that cut through our armor!” the raider reported. He had an arrow he had taken from the failed attack and presented it to his boss. Gor’thaka took the arrow and inspected it, looking over its design.
“Arrows like this went through the heavy armor we wear?” Gor’thaka asked, surprised and more than a little disturbed at the idea.
“Saw it happen with my own two eyes! Whoever this Pinkskin is, it’s clear that he’s smart and knows things we don’t!” the raider reported.
“He’s crafty too...” Gor’thaka observed, looking over the arrow which Ben had put together. Gor’thaka had been in the slaver business a long time, but he’d never seen an arrow so well crafted. The head itself, while simple, was well made and perfect in his eyes. He smiled as an idea formed in his head and, as it took shape, his smile broke into a grin.
“Pass my order to the West Road team. They are to head straight to the mine and reinforce the men and the Beastmaster that is stationed there,” the Slavemaster ordered the leader, and he leaped to obey, wanting to be away from Gor’thaka while he was still in a good mood.
“You think they’ll get brave enough to try taking the mine back?” the raider asked.
“They will. It is the most obvious target for them to take control back from us. But we will be the ones to hold onto it!” Gor’thaka cackled.
“What did you have in mind, mighty one?” the raider asked.
“Oh, a very cunning plan, which will give us our advantage back!” he exulted as he stood and walked out of the tent.
Though he was severely disappointed at his men’s failures, there was an opportunity here. One, if played correctly, would give him and his men an advantage that would turn the odds back in their favor. He knew that the iron mine would be the most likely target and had already set a plan in motion to give him the advantage.
The West Road team was already leaving, so Gor’thaka let them leave before he started executing his plan. He started gathering his best fighters, among them his own bodyguard, and spoke to them about his plan. At first, they were skeptical that it could work, but as he went on, their doubt was replaced by a greedy eagerness.
Sunlight peeked over the horizon, and Samara blinked against the rays of the sun. It had been a while she was greeted by such a sight, having spent the better part of five hundred years in cryo sleep. The warmth of the sun on her face made her smile and Samara sat up, stretching her arms over her head as she cooed. She looked over at the rest of the people there and sighed.
They were all asleep, except Markie, who had chosen the last watch over the bunch of them. She was sitting over by the dying fire, her eyes scanning the horizon. Samara smiled at the woman, thinking that she was likely enjoying this as much as she was. After being cooped up for years in a vault, surviving when everyone thought you were dead had an effect on the woman.
Samara had seen tears in Markie’s eyes as she slept, likely for her lost love. It had been a hard existence, one which nearly broke the poor woman. She couldn’t fault her for being overly cautious and jumpy from time to time. Now that she was out and traveling the world with her and Chelsea, Samara saw some signs that Markie was getting better. They were small, to be sure, as healing of all kinds often took time.
Her mind on the topic of healing, she got to her feet and ambled over to where Zahn was snoring. The man snored like a saw through hardwood, but that he was breathing was a good sign. Samara checked his wounds and the dressings without waking the man. The wounds appeared to be healing nicely and the dressings would need to be changed. She only hoped that Zahn had more medical supplies lying around in his cart.
“How’s he doing?” Markie called out softly.
“He’s healing, which is always a good sign. I think he’ll make it with little impact to his daily life,” Samara replied, giving her diagnosis.
“That’s good. At least we now have a guide to help us get our bearings in this new world,” Markie stated.
“With everything we’ve seen so far, yeah! Could you toss me the toilet paper there, hon?” Samara asked.
“Need to pee?” Markie smirked.
“Yeah! I’m just going to head down the hill, just that way,” Samara told her as she pointed.
“Why not the forest?”