DYSTOPIAN GIRLS
2
By Rodzil LaBraun
© 2019 Rodzil LaBraun
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
CHAPTER ONE:
I am in a dream. That much is clear to me. Well, it's not really clear. That's why I believe that it is a dream. The details are foggy like they do in the movies, dark around the edges of the screen. Or maybe I'm projecting that myself since I believe it is a dream.
Another reason for this conclusion is that I am standing in the old beer and wine store where I used to live. Only now the place is an utter disaster. Shelving units have been toppled over, merchandise scattered and broken on the floor. There is no sign of the furniture that my roommate and I had collected, or any personal items at all. There is also no sign of the beautiful Alexa. Or the sultry Jada. Or anyone, for that matter, inside the store.
Though it is difficult for me to remember everything clearly in my dream, I do know at least that I moved out of this place with three gorgeous women to settle into a large home a few streets away. We had a couple skirmishes there after we boarded up the windows. The first with skanks, the next with a large clan.
We were victorious in both altercations. I definitely remember winning the clan battle, though some of us sustained injuries. Everything after that is mostly a blank. Except Camilla. One of the opposing clan members that survived didn't recover consciousness until after the others had already left. She had a powerful confusion ability that would be a great asset to our group, if she decided to join us. She was a bronze skinned, full figured vixen.
I began to wander aimlessly through the old store, stepping over broken glass and busted shelves. As I pass by the doorway to the back room, I can see that the backdoor is wide open, all the debris I used to disguise it tossed aside. I turn towards the store front to see sunlight shining in through the front entrance, no sign of the barricade I had assembled there. A dread comes over me and I'm not sure why. My former home has obviously been raided, but the intruders must be gone. I had nothing of real value to be concerned about, except my women.
Of course, the girls did not really belong to me. They had simply chosen to follow my lead, for which I was incredibly grateful. More than a little shy around the ladies in my past life, before the onslaught of catastrophes that nearly wiped out mankind, I was lucky to attract these wonderful women to my side. Still, it was difficult not to puff up a little with pride in my accomplishments, which in turn allowed me to think of them as my women.
The sense of dread continued to build causing me to wonder about the whereabouts of my three female companions. The front door calls me like beaming light from the interior of an alien spaceship, and I obey without hesitation. My dream then glitches a bit, it seems. I skip right over finding my way through the wreckage inside the store to end up standing in the doorway. The sunlight warms my face and body, but it feels more like accusation than comfort.
Standing directly in front of me in the smallish parking lot is Earl, his rifle resting on his muscular dark brown shoulder. His wife-beater undershirt is heavily stained with blood and it doesn't appear to be his. He wipes the sweat from his brow before he begins to stare at me with a wicked grin plastered on his ugly face. I feel like he is giving me time to accept my unfortunate circumstances before he speaks. He is encouraging me to take in the scene around him.
On Earl's right is Tammy, clumsily resting on the hilt of her sword with the tip pressed down into the asphalt. It seems like a bad idea to me to possibly dull the tip of the weapon against the pavement, but I realize the stance is designed to get a point across. I apparently had not defeated them after all. Or, maybe, they returned to take revenge. It was a 'who gets the last laugh' kind of vibe that I was picking up from her.
Standing on the other side of Earl was Tammy's stupider sister, Cheryl. A bulky bandage was awkwardly wrapped around her busted head covering one eye. I still remembered the crack sound that her skull had made when it hit the hard ground of the parking lot weeks ago. That was my doing, but it was in self-defense. I didn't want to kill her, just protect myself. Evidently, she survived the cranial fracture. She too was grinning, only the expression just made her look drunk, or possibly drugged up with pain medicine.
The three of them were bright in my vision, the world around them dark and faded, looking like the cover of a cheap post-apocalyptic novel. When big Earl glanced at the ground around him the corpses of a hundred skanks then caught my attention. The illuminated field of vision expanded rapidly for me. Their bodies and clothing were all shades of gray, and not in a bondage sex kind of way. They almost blended into the dull gravel speckled parking lot. The man was clearly trying to tell me that he was responsible for all their deaths.
I personally did my best not to take a life whenever possible, and that included the sub-human women that we referred to as skanks. Though not zombies, their decaying bodies had shared some similarities. Earl's slaughter of these poor women was a total shame, but it did not break my heart the way that it looked like he intended. He was proud of taking something from me, but in all likelihood, it wasn't the hundred stinkies.
I stepped forward warily causing my vision to shift once again. More lifeless bodies then appeared on the ground between us, only these were not faded and gray like the others. My toe inadvertently bumped the first one in the fair skinned slender leg. Its form was easily recognizable as my wonderful lover, Alexa. There was no gore, thank goodness, but it was evident that she was deceased. I felt a sharp pain in my chest that took my breath away. Not only had the love of my life been killed, I had failed in my responsibility to keep her alive. Nothing else in my new fucked up life mattered more than that single task. And I fell short.
Lying distressingly beside her was the dark skinned muscular and sexy shape of Jada, also dead. Again, a severe jolt of agonizing pain to my chest. I had disappointed them both. Next was the breathless skinny pale body of Riley, which was almost expected at that point.
I knew that it was a dream all along. I kept telling myself that. But the pain was the same as if it were all real. I could not block my emotion with reason. A tear-jerker movie would have had the same effect on me, if it was well written. I wept profusely, like a baby. If the message was that deep down inside, I cared tremendously for these women, there was no need to bother. I already knew that. I wasn't struggling with that fact, or even attempting to hide it.
Earl began to laugh psychotically, drawing my attention back to the fat fucker that was evidently responsible for taking the lives of my dearest friends. That's when two more forms came into view, both stepping up from behind Earl to stand on each side of him. The first was big John, the man I graciously let live after defeating his clan in battle. I even allowed him to collect the women of his clan that had survived the fight. The other was the voluptuous and seductive bronze skinned Camilla.
"Mason!" I heard Alexa's voice, angrily pulling the string of my heart like a heavy metal guitarist. I insta
ntly looked down at her beautiful body surprised that she was still alive. Only she wasn't. Her inanimate form remained the same as I had seen it just moments ago.
"Mason!" her voice called out again. When I looked up at Earl and his accomplices to makes sense out of what was going on, the world wobbled on me like I was shit-faced drunk. Then I must have fell backwards because the bright sky was the next thing I saw. Only it wasn't the sky after all. It was the white ceiling of my new bedroom.
"Are you okay, Mason?" Alexa asked. It only took a few seconds to shake the vivid images that I had just seen in my dream, but they would no doubt remain in my memory for some time. The heartache I'd endured during the ordeal took longer to fade away. It was like my mother used to tell me, ‘long after people forget the words you said, they remember the way you made them feel.’
"Yeah, I'm fine. I must have been dreaming."
"You sounded like a lost puppy crying. You know how they whimper?" she asked as she wiped my sweaty hair from my forehead. She was leaning over me now, earnestly concerned. "What were you dreaming about?"
I sat up slowly and took a measured, deep breath. I decided that it was best to forget the nighmarish visual of my friends' corpses. Nothing would be gained by sharing it with the beautiful woman that I had begun calling my wife. That's right. I had actually gotten her a ring, too. I didn’t need her to feel any of the pain that the dream had delivered to me.
"Uh, nothing," I lied. "I don't remember." The last part of my dream to dissipate from my foremost thoughts was Camilla's vengeful face. "Where is Camilla?"
"I assume that she is still in the living room. It should be Jada's watch by now. Riley took over for you about five hours ago. Do you want me to go check?"
"No, that's okay. I'll do it."
"You need more rest, Mason," she said firmly, pushing gently against my shoulder to restrain me.
"I'll come back to bed in a few minutes. I'll feel better if I check on things first."
I rolled out of bed completely naked, found my khaki cargo shorts on the floor and pulled them on without any underwear. Though I legitimately did plan on coming back to spend more time with Alexa in bed, I knew there was a possibility that something might happen to keep me away longer than I hoped. I stared at my blue cotton boxers lying by the nightstand for a second, then decided to just go without them.
I heard talking in the distance as soon as I entered the long hallway that connected the five bedrooms to the living room. The conversation sounded casual, and one of the voices was Jada's smooth tone. That was a good thing. Hopefully everything was okay. The vibe of a friendly discussion increased as I approached.
As I turned the corner for the sectional to fully come into view the scene was unusual enough to stop me in my tracks. Jada was turned away from me with one hand down the back of her workout shorts. I couldn't immediately determine what was the purpose of said hand. On the other side of the L-shaped sofa was Camilla sitting comfortably with her legs crossed resting on the seat beside her. Additionally, she was wearing sunglasses. She was the one that noticed my arrival first.
"Good morning, Mason," she said as if she had always been a resident here.
Before I could reply, Jada turned to face me in surprise like I had crept up on her. "Well, good morning, sweetheart. I didn't hear you walk in," she declared quickly pulling her hand out of her pants. As she turned, I could see the thick bandage on her hip. The memory of her sustaining the injury in battle came rushing back to me.
"Are you okay?" I asked as I approached. She raised her arms to signify that she wanted a hug. She deserved that and more for her heroic combat the day before. Her lips gently found mine as I leaned into the embrace, but it was just a quick 'nice to see you' smooch. Passionate kisses had their time and place, and this was not the time. The place? Maybe one day the large comfortable piece of furniture could become a sexual playground. At the moment, it was where we were guarding our prisoner.
"I'm fine," she lied, always acting tough when it came to her body.
I wanted to ask details about the wound, but it didn't feel right to do so in front of a visitor. Instead, I did something even more inappropriate and asked, "Is your ass okay?"
"I was just scratching an itch!"
Camilla laughed at our banter, drawing my attention back to her. She pulled her legs up beside her causing her dress to ride up her smooth bronze thighs a little more. Her body was thicker than I would normally find attractive, but she had an incredible sexiness about her. The neck cut revealed more cleavage than most women had available, and her large nipples could clearly be seen through the lace. She was conspicuously not wearing a bra. Then she shook her head to toss around her long wavy brown hair.
"What's with the sunglasses?" I asked.
"She says they block her ability to confuse a person," Jada replied. "Riley is immune, so she was okay on guard by herself. She offered to stay with me when I took over, but we came up with the sunglasses plan instead. I haven't had any problems with her."
I looked Camilla in the face for a moment. I didn't like not being able to see her eyes. It felt like I was at a disadvantage, unable to read her completely. Thinking back to the battle I remember that she had confused opponents that were not even looking at her. I didn't understand how the sunglasses would have any chance to block her ability. It wasn't a mesmerizing kind of skill that required eye contact. Also, I wouldn't be able to judge her honesty as well without seeing her eyes. So, I decided to take a chance.
"I call bullshit," I said to calmly. "Take them off."
Camilla complied, revealing her intoxicating green eyes as she sat the huge sunglasses delicately on her lap. I could easily see that she was intimidated by me. She even took a quick breath and stifled a sigh. Her abundance of confidence the day before was all but gone. She probably understood that she was essentially our prisoner, if that was how we chose to treat her.
Looking directly into her emerald stare I asked, "The sunglasses don't really block your ability, do they?" I saw immediately by her reaction that I was right. I never received any formal training on reading people in the past. Nor did I acquire any special power to do so. Most real people did not act as exaggerated as characters on crime dramas, but television did teach me a lot about interaction with deceivers.
"No," she replied after a brief moment, nodding her head in embarrassment at being caught lying.
"Bitch!" Jada called her, angry over being duped.
"I'm sorry, Jada. I just wanted you to be comfortable with me. Riley was exhausted, and I wasn't going to be any trouble anyway. It was a mistake. I can see that now."
"Tell me how your ability really works," I told her as I took the seat beside her never losing eye contact.
"Well, that's not nice to ask someone this early in our relationship. That's on par with..."
"Camilla," I said patiently. "If you want to be treated with respect here you need to be honest with us. You failed your first opportunity miserably. I'm generously giving you a second chance. How does it work?"
The woman obviously didn't like the situation that she had been put in, but some of that was her doing. After a heavy sigh and a shrug, she finally answered, "I can confuse anybody within about ten feet just by looking at them. They don't need to be looking at me. The depth of the disorientation varies between people, but it is usually significant. Riley is the first person that I have encountered that is completely immune to my gift."
"Is there any way to actually block your ability?"
"Not that I know of. But you won't have to worry about me. Unless I'm in danger, I won't use my ability on any of you."
"Is everything okay?" Alexa asked as she leaned against the wall of the hallway. She was only wearing my t-shirt and looking every bit as beautiful as the first day I had seen her, despite her ruffled blond hair. I had almost forgotten that she was waiting on me to return to bed. I wasn’t sure if she could pick up on our feelings from all the way down the hall.
A
lexa then raised one knee forward to cross slightly in front of the other leg like I had seen sexy underwear models do before. Her naturally arousing demeanor was captivating as all three of us stared speechless for a moment. Even after sleeping beside that amazing body she could still make my heart skip a beat.
"Damn, girl," Jada finally said.
"Good morning, Alexa," Camilla added. "I hope that we didn't wake you."
Yeah, I unquestionably wanted to spend some quality time with Alexa. Right now, even. And she looked like she wanted it as well. But I couldn't just leave Jada alone with Camilla. I didn't trust the new girl yet. Just yesterday she was our enemy. And only a few minutes ago in my dream she was even worse. The lie that she had told Jada about the sunglasses only reinforced my intuition.
"Jada, why don't we put Camilla in one of the spare bedrooms. She is our guest, after all,” I said.
"I don't want to be any trouble," Camilla replied as she leaned forward, obviously desiring her own bed. The injury to her head had been cleaned up sufficiently and didn't even require a bandage. After her pain medicine had kicked in the night before she appeared to be in good health. Assigning her to a bedroom was more for our benefit than it was hers. She could consider it a very comfortable cell.
I pulled a dining room chair to the hallway so we could still have someone on guard close to Camilla's room if desired, but the door could easily be seen from one end of the sofa. The chair simply made the clear statement to our guest that she was not yet trustworthy.
When it comes to trusting a stranger, no one's input was more valuable than Alexa's. Her gift of reading people's emotional state had been a strong reliable asset ever since we had met. Once we returned to our room, I asked how she felt about Camilla.
"My read on her is a little fuzzy for some reason. Most of the fear present last night is gone, though she is still worried about what we might do with her. She undeniably has a fondness for you, but who doesn't. This house is filling up with women that want to be your lover."
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