Chapter 20

Mike’s small office in Leavitt Hall looked exactly the same as it did the day he packed it up. No diplomas on the wall, no nicknacks on the desk, no books on the shelves. To an outsider like Charmagne, it must have looked like an unused office.

“Grab a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair he reserved for visiting students. He leaned against the edge of the desk in front of her and crossed his arms.

In the dim light of the lantern, Mike appraised the assertive young woman as she lowered her bulk into the seat with a groan. In the movies, soldiers were always portrayed as specimens of martial prowess and athleticism. In reality, it appeared the military’s standards of fitness were far more relaxed than Hollywood casting directors imagined. To call Charmagne big-boned would be generous. Then again, he’d been surprised by her strength when they first met, so perhaps there was a lot of muscle lurking beneath all that flab.

She was dressed far more casually than he was used to, and looked like she’d been doing hard labor all day. Gone were the cap and jacket she normally wore. Her blonde hair, which she usually wore tucked underneath her hat, now brushed the straps of an olive green tank top that left nothing to the imagination. Apparently, the Staff Sergeant preferred to go commando.

“Look, about what you saw back there,” he began, but she cut him off.

“Ain’t none of my business,” she assured him.

Mike nodded. “We’d just prefer it if we could keep this between us.”

“Who the fuck am I gonna tell?” she asked. “Stop worrying. Your secret’s safe with me. Can we talk now?”

He nodded. “Sure. What do you want to know?”

“What’s our window here? How much time we got?”

“Depends on the context you’re talking about,” he said. “Six or seven days at most, because that’s when our current stocks of food run out. In two weeks, any readily available resources still out there - food, medicine, fuel, batteries - will have been claimed by others. Within a month, there won’t be any clean water or natural gas flowing anywhere, and that’s when we move from the Edwardian Era, where we are right now, all the way back to the Colonial Era, slavery and all.”

Charmagne nodded the entire time he spoke. “I agree a hundred percent. Pretty much every store we seen’s been looted and picked clean already. Same with the empty houses.”

Mike looked away and cursed. “Fucking Linda,” he grumbled. “If we’d acted when I said to, we could have gotten there first,” he said in an embittered tone.

“Maybe, but what’s past is past, so ain’t no point moaning about it now. Only thing that matters is what you do today. How long do you expect you’ll need to provision for?”

“Conservatively, two years. Anything less, and we risk starvation. I figure that’s enough time to establish a sustainable base of food production somewhere. Something resilient to the worst effects of the UV radiation. Maybe hydroponics, maybe fish farming, I don’t know yet. I haven’t gotten that far. I’m more concerned about next week.”

“Two years, huh,” Charmagne said, mulling over the number. “That’s a lot of food for so many people.”

“It is. That’s why we need to find it, secure it, and store it as quickly as possible. The more time we waste, the worse our chances of survival.”

Charmagne nodded. “You’re right. We should get started right away.”

“We? Does this mean you’re going to join us?” Mike asked.

It was impossible to keep the hope and relief he felt from his voice. Charmagne leaned forward to put her elbows on her knees and smiled at him.

“That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about, Mike.”

He noticed that she hadn’t said yes to his question. “What other thing?” he asked cautiously.

“The way I see it, you and me are the two most important people in this outfit. You got the brains to figure out how to keep us alive long enough to rebuild society, and I got the muscle to not only get the work done, but keep any greedy fucks out there from trying to take what’s ours.”

The hairs on the back of Mike’s neck stood up. “What’s your point?”

“My point is, you need me as much as I need you. This only works if you and me are partners, wouldn’t you agree?”

Mike didn’t answer right away, but when he did, he chose his words carefully. “Everyone here has an important role to play, Staff Sergeant. Everyone. The only way we succeed is if we all work together as a team.”

She stood and placed her hands on her substantial hips. “I get it. You’re a team player. You’re also one of the few good men left out there. Anyone with eyes in their head can see it. But we need to face facts. With the possible exception of your special lady friend, you remove any of the rest of them from the equation, and our overall chances of survival stays just about the same. You remove me or you, though, and things get real tough for them, real quick.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate them like that,” Mike cautioned. “They just might surprise you.”

She tossed her head with a grunt. “Sure, they might. But they ain’t you, Mike. You’re special. You’re actually more than that. You’re exceptional. Mark my words, you’re gonna be one of the most important men in the world soon. But you’re gonna need protection if you wanna live that long. The world’s full of wolves, and they’re already forming up into packs, sniffing the air and preparing for the hunt, and this school’s just about the juiciest target for miles.”

Mike furrowed his brow. “Why would that be? It’s just a high school. What could we possibly have that anyone would want?”

Charmagne stared at him with her lips parted as if waiting for the punchline. When it didn’t come, she scoffed.

“Holy shit, you really are naive, ain’t you? Pardon my French, but if young pussy was gold, then this place is Fort Knox. You got what? Fifty, maybe sixty young pussies in there, and only two men?” She snorted. “Shit. It ain’t even a question of if they come for you, Mike. The only question is when.”

The blood drained from Mike’s face. He’d been so preoccupied with learning everything he could about the gamma-ray burst and it’s long-term effects, and figuring out how to keep everyone alive past next week, that he hadn’t even considered if they might be vulnerable. But they absolutely were. As crude as her analogy might have been, she was absolutely right. Dozens of defenseless teenage girls would make a tempting target, even in the best of times. They needed protection. They needed Charmagne.

“What kind of partnership are you proposing?” Mike asked.

Charmagne cocked her hip and smirked. “What’s our protection worth to you?”

Negotiation wasn’t Mike’s strong suit, nor something he expected. He was used to working in collaborative environments, where everyone was aligned to the same goal. It never occurred to him that he’d need to haggle with this woman in order to secure their mutual survival. It seemed needlessly adversarial and counterproductive.

“About the same as food and electricity are to you, I suppose,” Mike said.

Another amused grunt. “I think that’s a fair enough trade for everyone else, but you and me’s still got a little side deal we need to figure.”

He noticed her accent growing thicker the longer they spoke, and wondered if she suppressed it most of the time, or if it became more pronounced when she was stimulated by something, because she seemed to grow increasingly excited with each passing moment.

“What side deal?”

She stepped forward and kicked his legs apart, stepping between them. She smelled strongly of dried sweat. Her intense blue eyes bored into his.

“I’m gonna be looking out for you, Mike. Personally. I’m gonna be your bodyguard. I wasn’t jerking you off earlier. You just might be the most valuable man alive in these parts, so it’s important for all those young girls in there that nothing bad happens to you. But it’s gonna take a lot of work on my part to keep you alive. A shit ton of work. Work I expect to be compensated for.”

Mike pressed himself hard against his desk and gripped the edge. “What do you want?”

Charmagne’s eyes made a brief trip down his body. “A lot less than it’s worth to you, that’s for damned sure.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You ever get an itch, but just can’t reach it? An itch that needs scratching real bad? Well, I get that kind of itch a lot. In fact, I got that itch right now. An itch so deep it’s making me crazy. That’s what I want from you, Mike. Any time I get that itch, I want you to scratch it for me. In return, I’ll make sure that big brain of yours stays inside your skull and above your feet.”

She hooked her fingers through his belt loops and pressed her groin firmly against his. Their deadlocked stare persisted while she waited for his response.

“What if I don’t feel like scratching your itch?”

Charmagne pressed herself even harder against him and ground her hips. She made a sad face.

“Then I’ll think you don’t appreciate me and everything I do for you. Here I’ll be, busting my ass keeping you alive, and you won’t even spare a little time to scratch my itch? Why not? Remember, I seen you earlier, so I already know you can scratch that itch real good.”

Despite how uncomfortable she made him, the constant friction from her crotch rubbing against his was starting to have an effect. She’d walked in on him just moments before he was about to cum, and that spoiled release still lurked within him, eager to fulfill its purpose.

“What about Kali?” Mike asked.

“What about her? I don’t care if you wanna keep scratching her itch too. I just want assurances that you’re gonna scratch mine whenever I tell you to, is all.”

“I’m going to need assurances from you in return,” he said, realizing that he’d just conditionally agreed to her terms.

“What kind of assurances?”

His erection pressed painfully against his slacks, and there was no doubt she could feel it. He tightened his grip on the desk and swallowed hard.

“I want your word that you and your soldiers will do everything in your power to protect them, even if it means laying down your lives.”

She smiled. “See? Always thinking of others. You are a good man.” She thought it over while continuing to grind against him. “You got my word. All that young pussy in there’s the future of humanity, Mike. Ain’t nothing more precious than that, and I can’t think of nothing that’s worth dying for more. So, we got ourselves a deal?”

Mike sighed and nodded. “We have a deal.”

“Good, cause if you don’t scratch this fucking itch right now, I’m fixin’ to lose my shit. Take out your cock. I wanna see it again.”

She backed away to give him room. After a moment’s hesitation, he undid his fly and pulled out his cock. Her smile blossomed into a grin.

“All the way. Take ‘em off. In fact, take it all off.”

Mike stripped and stood before her, his large cock hovering parallel to the floor.

“Good Lord above,” she said under her breath. Then she reached out to stroke him. “Oh, that’s real nice.”

Despite her coarse, aggressive demeanor, she was remarkably restrained and sensual. Her touch was delicate and feminine, proving to him that she was a woman first, and a soldier second. And she was practiced. Her technique was exceptional. Enough so that she soon had his hips moving in response to her touch.

“Oh god, I’m going to enjoy this,” she said. She let him go and unbuttoned her camouflage pants. “I gotta warn you, I been sweating something fierce all day, and you got me gushing like a fountain, so I’ll probably be wetter’n a swamp down there.”

Charmagne stepped out of her pants and peeled off her tank top. As he guessed, she wore nothing underneath. She was heavy, but her musculature was obvious. Her legs were thick, but powerful, her hips wide. Her pussy was just a plump slit between her legs, completely shaved but for a few days stubble. She had a soft roll around her waist, creating a pronounced belly with love handles. Her breasts were medium sized, but full and well-shaped, gracefully curving upwards and culminating in pink, puffy nipples. By far her best features. If she lost the weight, he thought, she might look cute.

“You shopping or buying?” she asked, putting her hand between her legs to rub herself.

Mike met her eyes. “How do you want to do this?”

“Telling me you need a roadmap?”

He rubbed his face. “Can we just get this over with, please?”

“You really know how to make a lady feel special, don’t you.” When Mike leaned back against the desk and pinched the bridge of his nose, she rolled her eyes and sighed. “Fine. Move.”

Mike stepped away and she took his place, bending over his desk.

“Get to scratching,” she said.

Mike positioned himself behind her big, wide ass. With a hand on her back, he guided his cock between her thighs, and when the broad, domed head found purchase at her vaginal entrance, he pushed forward and sank all the way inside of her.

“Oh, fuck yes,” she groaned loudly.

She hadn’t been kidding. She was incredibly wet. She must have been highly aroused because her pussy felt like it was on fire. He began to thrust his hips, bumping his pelvis against her ass, causing ripples to cascade across her cheeks. As he built up speed, the contact made by their crashing bodies began to make a clapping noise.