by Angela Foxxe
Shawna craned her neck to see and was amazed at how much healthier her leg looked. The angry redness had subsided and the black scab was receding. The angry throbbing was also gone.
“I think I can actually walk on that now,” she said.
“Well, after this, we will get some food into you and take you for a small walk around the garage. You need to get moving anyway,” Winston said as he put a fresh soaked bandage on Shawna’s wound.
She winced at the heat as it wrapped around her leg. “Does it have to be so hot?”
“Yes. The heat draws the infection out and the medicine kills it,” Winston explained as he tied a knot in the bandage. “There we go. How about a nice cup of pig mole broth?” he asked as he handed her a cup of cold, fresh water to wash the taste of the medicine out of her mouth.
“I would really like a decent stew if that’s all right,” she said as she sipped the clean liquid. “Where did you find a source?”
“There’s a good well here,” Winston replied as he pointed to an old hand-powered pump in the corner. “I’ve been fighting off scavvers and ferals since I got back,” he said as his shoulders sagged wearily. “For some reason they just found out about this place and have wanted to take what’s left here.”
“Wow,” Shawna said. “So about that stew?” she asked as her stomach growled, and the baby kicked.
“Oh yes, I think you can handle a stew,” he said as he got up. “I’ll go gather some potatoes and carrots. This place has a garden that’s growing too. It’s kind of spooky to be honest, it’s like we found a settlement, without the settlers.”
“Yeah, it is strange that all our needs are able to be met here,” Shawna said as she looked around. “Do you think there’s a hermit near by?”
“I didn’t smell any. Maybe he got picked off by one of the beasts of the wastes,” Winston replied with a shrug. “I’ll be back.”
Shawna made herself comfortable as she waited for Winston to come back to cook the stew. She couldn’t believe he went out of his way to keep her from dying. It was always each person for themselves in the wastes, regardless if someone was pregnant. Weakness was quickly weeded out in the unforgiving wasteland.
She felt tenderness and love well up in her heart for her tiger protector. All anger and resentment toward him faded as she realized how much he had put himself in danger to keep her alive during her convalescence.
If she was up to it she’d probably fuck him, but there was no way she could muster up the energy to even scratch an itch, let alone have sex. Shawna laid back down as her head began to swim from hunger and her lingering illness.
“Oh man, I can’t wait to get moving,” she said as she felt the baby doing backflips in her womb. “I hope we aren’t too far from the Island.”
Winston came in with an armful of vegetables. “What’s that now?”
“Oh, just hoping we aren’t too far from that island settlement you were talking about,” Shawna said as she patted her stomach.
“Ah yes. At least your pregnancy’s progress stalled while you were ill,” he said. “Anima pregnancies are smart that way. The baby knows when the mother needs more for herself and adjusts accordingly. You’re now at what would be the four-month mark of a hume pregnancy, so we now have time.”
She sighed with relief as Winston chopped up the vegetables into the pot of steaming broth.
“That’s good,” Shawna replied. “I hope that it doesn’t kick up the growing when we leave,” she said as she put her hand on her belly.
“Yeah, we might be another week, or two at the most from the rusted bridge,” Winston replied.
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Then we have to make a raft or something to get to the island. It’s the only way to the settlement. There are no bridges to the island. Just rough waters that are almost always foggy.”
“How do you know all this?” Shawna asked.
“We send out traders to the settlement every so often. They manage to get fish that aren’t too irradiated,” he explained.
“Wait, I find that hard to believe since that was one of the major targets when the bombs fell.”
“You’re right, but for some reason the fish around there are cleaner than most.” Winston shrugged as he speared chunks of pig mole meat and seared them over the open flame of the fire briefly before tossing them in the bubbling broth.
“Hey, at least they have food,” she said as her stomach growled loudly in response to the heavenly aroma of the pig mole stew.
Winston chuckled as he sat next to his beloved. “That’s right,” he said as he wrapped his arm around her and held her close. “I thought I’d lost you a few times,” he whispered as he nuzzled the top of her head.
“I thought I was a goner, too,” she replied as she rested her head on Winston’s strong shoulder. “Thank you for staying, I mean it.”
Her heart filled with tenderness and love for her mate. She might not have picked him, but sometimes fate doesn’t work the way we want, and now, Shawna was okay with that.
“You know, if you were better I would probably be trying to bed you right now,” he said with a grin.
“Yeah, my mind is up for it, but I don’t think my body can handle any rumpy pumpy right now,” she laughed.
Winston kissed her forehead affectionately and just cuddled his mate close. “It’s fine,” he said. “You need to get better. There will be plenty of time for coupling, since we’re mated for life.”
“True,” she replied as her stomach growled loudly. “Is that stew ready yet?”
Winston chuckled and stood up to check the vegetables. “Seems like it,” he said as he poked a potato with a clean stick.
“Dish it up!” Shawna snapped. “Sorry, I’m just…”
“Hungry. You haven’t eaten anything except broth for the past week or so and you’ve got a baby in there that needs food too—it’s understandable,” Winston said as he dished up a piping bowl of stew for Shawna.
“Gimme, gimme,” she said as he slowly handed her the steaming bowl and a spoon he had scavenged from the kitchen.
Shawna greedily scarfed the stew down and asked for a second bowl. The salty, meaty goodness filled her mouth as she shovelled it in. The carrots were tough but sweet, and the potatoes were starchy and filling. She scarfed that down as well and let out a loud belch.
“Much better,” she said as she leaned back to let her dinner digest.
Winston just smiled and ate his stew in silence. He was glad that Shawna had her appetite back; it was a sure sign she was recovering rapidly.
“Hopefully, we can take a short walk after I digest this,” she said as she sat up to drink a little water.
“That’s the plan,” Winston replied as he licked his bowl clean. “And look—there’s enough stew for tomorrow as well.”
“Awesome,” Shawna replied feeling more herself as the food traveled through her starving body.
She was eager to get moving, but knew she had to stay in this little slice of paradise for a little longer while her body healed from the rampant infection.
After half an hour sitting in silence, Winston stood up, walked over to Shawna, and lifted her up under her arms. “All right, lean on me while you walk,” he instructed.
“Okay,” she said as she tried to put weight on her injured leg and was met with a sharp pain. “Yeah, I won’t put too much weight on it right now.”
“Just take it slow,” Winston urged as he helped her hobble through the garage toward the door leading to the wasteland outside.
She limped on while leaning heavily on Winston, grateful that he was just a few inches taller than her. She saw a cloud of giant flies in the distance.
“Corpses?”
She felt a chill travel down her spine at the presence of death. Those giant flies didn’t discriminate between the living and dead and she didn’t want to be attacked by a fly the size of a large housecat.
“Yes,” Winston said evasively. “I tried to keep the
m away from the garage, but I couldn’t drag them too far because I didn’t want to leave you alone for any longer than I had to.”
She nodded as she hobbled on. “Where’s the garden?” she asked.
“This way,” Winston replied as he changed direction. Shawna’s closeness was arousing him but he knew she was in no shape to play. Maybe before they leave, he thought.
The couple rounded the corner and were met with the wizened face of an old, grizzled man. His whiskers were long and yellow, and his skin was tanned and wrinkled from being in the harsh sun of the wastes. He was wearing a pair of faded blue coveralls and a dirty white shirt. In one hand he was holding a rusty spade, and a rusty tin bucket in the other. His brown leather boots were falling apart in various places and held together with patches in others. On his bald head he wore a hand woven straw hat to keep the sun out of his rheumy blue eyes.
Shawna let out a scream of surprise and Winston nearly dropped Shawna to the ground in preparation to change to a tiger and rip this person to shreds.
“So, you’ve been enjoying my garden and home have you?” the old man said. “You only ate the vegetables right? Didn’t go to the herb garden?”
“Yes, my mate is injured, we have been cast out of our settlements, and this was the safest place to rest,” Winston replied. “And no, I did not eat any plants I did not recognize.”
“Good, next time, don’t send a wastewraith all right? I never ran so fast as I have when I saw that beast hulking over the horizon at full tilt. Jumpins…” the old man snarled.
“My apologies,” Winston said. “It volunteered and it won’t be troubling you anymore.”
“Well, my name’s Hank. I’ve been living in this here garage for about thirty years now on my own. My first settlement tossed me after someone framed me for stealing his cheese. Radcow cheese, who the fuck would steal that nasty shit?” Hank said as he spat.
Winston laughed. “True, that stuff is an acquired taste, one I have yet to acquire.”
“Exactly, and I’d question your sanity if you ever did,” Hank said with a grin. “So, strangers, what are your names?”
“I’m Winston, former leader of the tiger anima tribe…”
“And I’m Shawna, used to live a week from here.”
She felt something off from this man, but she didn’t want to trigger Winston to attack, so she kept it to herself. They were, after all, at this man’s mercy.
Hank nodded. “All right, it’s gonna get dark soon. Let’s get back inside. So when you reckon you’re leaving?”
“In three days,” Winston said. “She’s with child and we want to get to the Traz Island before she births.”
“Ahhh yes, Traz,” Hank said. “Hard road going there. You sure you don’t want to go east to Vegas or Fifty-One?”
“No. Word has already spread about Shawna and myself, I’m guessing, and we haven’t been able to outrun the gossip,” Winston replied.
“Ah yes, nothing travels faster in this hellhole than shit talk,” Hank said as he opened the door.
“That’s for sure,” Shawna replied as she hobbled next to Winston.
“Well, the sooner you go the better but I don’t want to push you before you’re ready. You do have my gratitude for getting rid of the feral raiding parties,” the old man said to Winston. “My traps were all sprung and I was in the process of setting more when that blasted wastewraith friend of yours came charging down the hill. I figured if he wanted my home he could very well have it. Wasn’t gonna fight a beast like that.”
“I wouldn’t blame you, friend,” Winston said with a grin.
Hank grunted as he sat down next to the camp fire and helped himself to some of their stew.
“What?” he snapped as he saw the look on Winston and Shawna’s faces. “My veggies are in there so I have a right to it.”
“Go right ahead,” Shawna said as she eased herself down on her sleeping mat. “Your hospitality has been welcome and…”
“Like fuck it has,” the old man snapped. “You just barged in here and took what you wanted. I woulda shot you but I have a soft spot for ladies in distress,” he said as he scooped the brown stew into his mouth, dribbling gravy over his gray scraggly beard.
“Sorry, if there’s any way we can pay you back…” Winston said.
“Go kill a few more pig moles for me and I’ll call it even. I’ll even set you up with some of my dried veggie stores before you go. A pregnant lady shouldn’t be living off of meat alone,” he said pointing at Shawna.
“Thank you so very much,” Shawna replied as she sipped some more water. “Can we fill our canteens before we go, too?”
“Certainly,” the gruff hermit said. “If it’s one thing I have lots of it’s clean water; this place is over a natural spring and I managed to tap it, lucky me,” he said. “Drink as much as you want and take as much as you can carry. Dunno what filters the radiation out of that horrible black rain but I’m not gonna complain.”
Winston smiled and sat down next to Shawna, reassured that this old man posed no threat to either of them. “So, what is your story, friend?”
“Not much to say. Was accused of stealing radcow cheese and was kicked out. Wandered around for a few weeks avoiding ferals and slavers, found this place and called it home.”
“Have a wife? Kids?” Winston asked.
“You really have no idea how it works in hume settlements do you?” Hank chided. “That lady there, after she pops is gonna be put in the breeding brothels. I might have a few kids running around, have no clue. I visited the brothels a few times if I had anything to trade, usually food, but one time, oh boy, I managed to find some grape seeds, I grew those babies with love and care. Always had a green thumb. They were big and purple, the size of a pig mole’s eyeball, they were that big.” The old man took a swig of water. “I remembered my pappy saying that people used to smash them and make this drink from them so that’s what I did. I smashed those grapes, and the juice turned and I tasted when it was done and it gave me such a great feeling. Got drunk!”
Winston chuckled. His people were able to make alcohol from grains they harvest from the wastes and this man’s discovery just made him smile.
“Well, I bottled it up, and took it to the brothel,” Hank continued. “I was able to have my choice of any of the ladies in there for that. Was the most precious stuff ever. Even the madam offered herself. I had probably the best night of my life; by the end of it, my balls were bone dry and shooting dust!” Hank cackled. “Ah yes, that was the night before I got exiled.” He sighed. “Anyway, I don’t know how it works on Traz, but your girl there would be moved into the brothels. Just the way things are. Once a woman proves she can pump out healthy babies, she’s kept there. She’s milked, too, since it’s better for us than radcow milk, but yeah… It’s pretty horrible for ladies after,” Hank said sadly as he wiped his beard with a grungy handkerchief.
“See, I told you!” Shawna snapped.
For the past few weeks, Winston completely disbelieved her about how settlements worked. Now she had someone confirm that she would be shoved into the brothel as soon as they arrived at Traz if it was like any other hume settlement.
“I won’t allow that to happen,” Winston growled.
Shawna was his and nobody else’s. He would rip the arms off of the first man to try to touch her in any way. Anima mated for life, it was driven by their biology. Monogamous pair bonds allowed the offspring to thrive and develop empathy toward their fellows. It allowed for harmonious colony cohesion and proper survival. That’s how they managed to thrive in secrecy for the two hundred years since the bombs fell.
“Only way for it not to happen is to not go into a settlement,” Hank replied.
“That isn’t an option,” Shawna said as she looked at her growing stomach.
“Oh, I know. You need a midwife to keep you from dying when you birth,” Hank said. “So you’re screwed, no pun intended. Who knows, you could just scram after the baby is born
and find a nice place like this and set up a small homestead. It’s not easy, but not impossible either,” Hank explained.
Winston fumed silently at the way humes treated their fertile females. “Why? Why do they do that?”
“Well, no way to guarantee who the father is, it keeps relationships from exploding with jealousy. Eliminate the relationship aspect and you eliminate the woman getting her brain caved in if the man suspects he’s not the dad,” Hank shrugged.
“Well, we shall see about it when we get there,” Winston growled as he rolled over onto his side. “I’m exhausted; I need some sleep.”
If the conversation continued, he couldn’t guarantee his behavior. Searing hot jealousy filled his chest at the thought of dirty hume men and their dirty hands and other parts pawing at Shawna’s beautiful dark body. He let out a growl and felt his body changing instinctually at the rage that filled him. Winston would die before allowing anyone to touch his mate, taking out as many of them as possible before being overwhelmed.
Shawna yawned. “Same here. That walk took a lot out of me,” she said as she settled down.
Exhaustion washed over her and she could barely keep her eyes open. That short walk was almost too much for her in her weakened condition. She could tell Winston was getting more and more agitated by the way the conversation was going and knew it would be prudent to stop it.
He wouldn’t allow her to be used while he was alive, and that was the problem. She knew he would die for her and that would make her life hell in the brothels since they would take her pay as reparations for all the damage he would do defending her. Why couldn’t he understand the damage he had done? Going to a settlement would be a death sentence for him, and a lifetime of prostitution for her. Maybe they should risk it and set up a homestead. She would talk to him about it in the morning. Now it was time to get some sleep.
“Well, if you don’t mind, I’ll hang out by the fire a while and keep an eye out for any ferals or slavers,” Hank said as he tossed another log onto the fire.
This couple was almost a godsend and he would hate for them to leave, especially the girl, before he could send a message to his buddies that were a few days travel away. That blasted wastewraith and tiger had killed more of his buddies than he could count, and it was only fair to make amends in the only way he knew how. This little shop of his was perfect to trap unsuspecting travelers and exiles for his business.