by Holly Ardent
Chris' Cabin
(Post-Apocalyptic MILF)
Holly Ardent
Text copyright © 2018, Holly Ardent
All Rights Reserved
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Chris knew just where to go when the riots in town overtook his suburban neighborhood. Since the government had turned off the EBT cards a few days back, he'd been expecting problems. And his little one bedroom apartment was not somewhere he had any desire to try to weather the ensuing storm in.
At first the general reaction was that it had to be a glitch. People were sure they'd be available again in a day or two and most of them were okay with that. A few started right in with looting, piling carts high with whatever they wanted from the grocery store, then wheeling them straight out the front door. There was some violence, but it was limited. A few days later, when the cards still weren't working, things got worse, much much worse.
Chris had watched on the news as a supermarket burned. When the firefighters tried to put it out, they found that unless they left a guard on the truck and hoses, that people would puncture the hoses, taking axes, knives, or guns to them to stop the firefighter's efforts.
I can't believe how stupid some people are, he thought at the time. Don't they realize that unless those fires are put out they're liable to spread?
Hours later his fears were confirmed, there were some whole neighborhoods ablaze and the firefighters from those areas either couldn't respond due to destroyed equipment, or wouldn't respond for fear of their equipment being destroyed.
A glance out the window showed him pillars of oily black smoke streaming up from the downtown area and that was when he decided it was time to leave. He knew the location of a cabin, one that he'd found years earlier on a camping trip, that appeared to be utterly deserted. It had been in good condition when he'd found it though and as soon as he was old enough to drive, he started visiting it when he wanted to be alone, either by himself or with female company. He'd also spent some time and money repairing the few problems that he'd been able to find with it.
I doubt that any of the chicks I took there are going to remember where it was, he thought. None of them were really the outdoorsy type and you need either a motorcycle or a four wheel drive to get there.
He thought he had plenty of time, a day or more at least, until trouble reached where he lived so he carefully packed his gear.
I'm going to treat it like an extended camping trip, he thought. Because I've got no idea just how long this is going to take to settle down. I'll get as much food as I can manage and I'll hit the hardware store for seed packs on my way. If it's more than just a few weeks I'll be glad to have a garden running and the cabin has its own spring, so water for the garden won't be an issue.
In addition to all the camping gear he had, he packed his solar chargers, his power banks, and a variety of small devices that could run off of a USB port. Then he started in on the food.
Several hours later, he'd taken as much as he thought he could actually manage. He looked around his apartment one last time, then shut the lights out and locked the door.
If it's a false alarm I'll hear about it on the portable radio or my cellphone if the towers are still up. Don't want to leave the door unlocked and invite someone to take everything I've still got here.
He slid into his Jeep 4X4 and started the engine. A quick stop at the hardware store got him seeds and some ducting he thought he might want. He packed both in the Jeep and then went to the local grocery store and gas station, which had yet to be visited by rioters. Once there was no more room in the Jeep and his gas tank was filled, he headed out into the woods.
Three weeks later he was sorry he hadn't stopped for a few more things. The cellphone connection had lasted for three days before he stopped getting a signal. Since then he'd been using the portable radio he'd brought for news. From what he heard on there, the entire town and its surroundings were either already burned down or in the process of burning.
He was currently connecting the ducting he'd brought. The nights were colder here at the cabin and his sleeping bag, while warm, didn't do anything for the rest of the cabin's interior. He was running the ducting from the chimney into a small cave that held the cabin's spring. He'd thought about running it into the water, but couldn't figure out how to get the smoke to travel down the ducting instead of backing up into the wood stove and putting out the fire. The cave was slightly higher than the cabin, so he thought it would work better.
There was fresh air coming from the roof in there, he'd tested it with a flame to see if he could vent into there. But whether the smoke went up through cracks in the ceiling or out the entry he was running the ducting into the cave through, he was pretty sure the smoke would be broken up and less noticeable from a distance.
Now all I need is some kindling. I've got a decent stack of dry wood already, but I'll need something to start it burning with. I think I'll just go out looking for smaller dry deadwood instead of trying to chop pieces off the logs. I don't want to chop them off the existing firewood because I'm sure I've heard people around here and I know I've heard gunshots. Chopping wood would make enough noise that someone would hear it. It's a good thing the cabin's in this little valley that's hard to find or I'm sure I would've had uninvited company already.
He grabbed the section of canvas he was planning on transporting firewood in, just in case he found larger sections of wood he could add to his firewood pile, and headed out into the woods.
He'd filled half the canvas with smaller pieces of wood for starting the fire when he heard it.
What's that? he wondered. Sounds like someone moving through the bushes, maybe trying to sneak up on me.
He ducked behind a tree and listened. The noise repeated itself several times over the next couple of minutes and he managed to pinpoint where it was coming from. Leaving the canvas behind, he made his way from tree to tree towards the sound. He carried a large stick in his hand since it was the only weapon he had handy.
Peering around a tree that was only a few feet away from the bush he was sure the sound was coming from he stopped dead. On the ground, beneath the bush, was a blonde. She caught his attention immediately. He hadn't realized just how much he missed having other people around, the voices from the radio simply weren't enough, although he'd convinced himself that they were. The noise was because she was sleeping, but thrashing around in her sleep as though she were having nightmares.
* * *
Chris stopped trying to be quiet and hide now. He walked over to the bush, knelt, and shook the blonde's shoulder. She didn't even budge. It took him a moment to realize that the soft, buzzing noise was her snoring.
Hah! I always wondered what people were talking about when they said someone had a cute snore. I guess this is what they meant, the only snores I ever heard before now made it sound like someone was cutting through a log.
He pushed on her shoulder even harder, hard enough that her body shifted several inches across the ground, but she stayed sleeping, dead to the world.
I really ought to just leave her here, but she's close to the cabin and might find it when she wakes up. Besides she's kind of cute, even if she is older than I thought at first.
Without another thought, he grabbed her and pulled her out from under the bush. Her snore sputtered for a moment, then settled back down into the regular buzzing he'd noticed.
Chris shook his head, amazed that someone could sleep through being dragged across the ground. The kindling he'd gathered wasn't too far off, so he grabbed it and wrapped it into a roll with the canvas. When he placed the canvas on her stomach again, he waited to see if she'd wake.
When she didn't,
he squatted and slid his arms under her, then lifted so he was carrying her and the kindling together.
She doesn't weigh anything at all. I'm not super strong or anything, but I bet I could carry her for a mile or more.
By the time he got back to the cabin, he'd changed his mind about that. She wasn't that heavy, but she was a dead weight that he had to be careful with or she'd fall out of his grasp. He almost lost the kindling off of her twice on the walk back to the cabin when she started to slide out of his grip.
He laid her on the bed. Unwilling to try to get her inside the sleeping bag, he simply laid it over her, figuring that that would give her all the extra warmth she might need. Then, after watching her for several minutes and realizing he had no idea how long it would be before she woke, he took the kindling and started a fire in the wood stove to test the ducting he'd just finished installing.
Chris fist pumped as he watched the thin trails of smoke rise from the ground above the cave and dissipate before they made it ten feet in the air.
That takes care of that worry, he thought. Now no-one's going to be able to tell where I am and take my stuff. Well, unless she leaves and tells somebody where I am. Why the hell did I bring her to the cabin?
He knew why he had. She'd be company, and company of the female persuasion that he hoped he had a chance with. After all, the competition in the area was non-existent and would stay that way unless she left and brought someone back.
Chris went back into the cabin and stoked the fire a bit more, looking forward to his first hot meal in three weeks. He opened a can of condensed soup and mixed it with some water. Then he put it on the wood stove and stirred a bit.
It was rapidly warming up in the cabin now that he had a fire going, so he slid his coat off and hung it on a peg. He went back to stirring the soup and was surprised when he heard something behind him.
What was that? he thought.
Then he realized what he'd heard. The blonde's snores had stopped and she'd just yawned. He turned and saw her push the sleeping bag off of her body, then sit up. Her eyes widened as she looked around the cabin, then widened more when she saw Chris.
“Where am I?” she asked.
“You're in my cabin. I found you out in the woods, utterly exhausted. I couldn't get you to wake up and was worried that you might be in trouble, so I brought you back here,” he replied.
“Trouble? The whole world is in trouble now. Don't you know?”
“What? That they burned practically the whole city down? Why do you think I'm out here instead of in my apartment?”
“The national guard came. They were handing out food and water, but then some gang types shot them up and stole their trucks. They didn't come back anymore after that. People are starving.”
She sniffed the air appreciatively.
Chris turned and saw the pot of soup on the stove.
Crap that must be why she was so light. If she hasn't been eating well, or much, for weeks, that could explain it.
He gave it a quick stir before turning back to her.
“Sorry, soup's almost ready. Would you like some?”
She nodded eagerly and went to stand, but after a moment of swaying on her feet, quickly sat back down on the bed.
“I'm Chris,” he said.
“Brenda,” she replied.
“Well Brenda, I'd say it's good to meet you, but considering the circumstances, let me just say I'm glad to meet you instead. I've been on my own out here for three weeks. Didn't think I missed people, after all I had a radio to listen to the news, but I was so glad to see you that I think I was lying to myself.”
“I don't miss 'em,” she said. “Saw too much of people, the worst side of them, over the last couple of weeks. They burned down my apartment, those assholes did. I had to run with only...”
She trailed off, looking around.
“Where's my bag?” she asked, looking at him suspiciously.
“I didn't see it when I found you, but that doesn't mean it wasn't there. I'll take you out and help you look for it after we eat. Once I found you, I kind of stopped looking at the rest of my surroundings.”
Her face didn't exactly soften, but the suspicion left it at least.
“Okay,” she said. “That's all I've got in the world now. There's not much in it, but there's a few things anyhow.”
He walked over and offered her an arm. When she looked up at him with a question on her face, he spoke.
“I'm going to help you to the table so we can get some soup in you. I'll admit, that's not the bed I sleep in, the entire loft is one big bed and that's where I sleep, but I thought I'd offer you that bed if you were staying for a while and I'm pretty sure you don't want to spill soup on it. Cleaning clothing is a royal pain in the ass here and I'm guessing bedding would be worse.”
She blushed for a moment.
“Sorry, I'm not used to someone with manners,” she said.
“It's not manners. I saw you almost fall over when you stood up before. I just don't want you to hurt yourself.”
She took his arm and let him steady her while she made her way to the table.
“Yeah, most guys I've known would've just let me fall and then yell at me for being a clumsy bitch.”
“I think you've been hanging around the wrong kind of guys then,” he replied.
She shrugged.
“Most of 'em only wanted one thing and had already found out they weren't gonna get it by the point they got like that.”
Now it was Chris' turn to blush.
“I'll admit, that thought crossed my mind too. But I've been starved for company out here. The only times I heard people the sounds were accompanied by gunshots so I wasn't about to invite them over for a cup of coffee, you know?”
Brenda's face took on a greedy look.
“You've got coffee?” she asked, eagerly.
“Sure, enough for a while anyhow. Would you like some? I'll put the percolator on while we eat.”
He helped her down into her seat, then turned back to the stove. He only had one bowl so he filled that and offered it to her, he took the pan itself over to his place and set it there. Before he sat down he set up the percolator on top of the wood stove. So far he'd only been using the instant coffee he'd brought, mixed with lukewarm water. He was looking forward to a hot cup of coffee almost as much as it appeared Brenda was.
She started out by tearing into the soup, but after several spoonfuls her hand went to her stomach.
“Ouch, I forgot what happens if you try to eat too fast after not eating for a while,” she said.
She waited a minute or two before picking her spoon back up. When she resumed eating, she went much slower than she had earlier. Even so her bowl was empty before too long and she slumped back in the chair. Chris had already finished his half of the soup and was anticipating the hot coffee to come.
“Blurp!”
The comfortable silence was broken by the sound of the percolator.
“Good, not long on coffee now,” he said.
Brenda was staring at him, had been for a couple of minutes if he wasn't mistaken.
“I owe you,” she said finally. “So, if that thought crosses your mind again, let me know. I'd be willing to do that for you, but don't expect too much. Sex has never done much of anything for me, so I keep getting called a dead fish.”
His gaze turned back to her.
“Sex doesn't do anything for you?” he asked incredulously.
She shook her head.
“Probably it's all in my head. I lost my virginity in high school, got pregnant at the same time, and that kind of ruined my life. Ended up dropping out of school because of the way the other kids treated me. I probably blame the fact that I've had a shitty life on my having sex and getting pregnant when I was sixteen.”
“Oh,” Chris said. “I guess that sorta makes sense.”
“Don't get me wrong, I went and got my GED because I needed that to get anything other than a minimum wage job.
So I'm not stupid or anything, but hell, the guy that got me pregnant and the two guys I had sex with after that?”
She stuck up a single finger.
“The first one dropped me when he found out he'd gotten me pregnant.”
A second finger went up.
“The second one knew I had a kid, stuck around for a month or two then left, saying he couldn't stand being around my kid.”
Another finger rose.
“And the third one? I was kind of desperate by then. He almost got me a police record. He was dealing drugs out of my apartment without me knowing. Not a one of them made me feel more than just a little happy with sex so maybe everyone's right and I'm just a dead fish.”
“Wow, sounds like your life really does suck.”
“Did, past tense. That was all years back. After those I three I decided that my kid and I could only rely on me. And we made it, he moved out last year when he graduated high school himself. I wonder how he's doing now. Is it like this everywhere?”
“I think so. We'll listen to the radio later on and get some news.”
The percolator was now blurping almost continuously so Chris got up.
At least I've got more than just one mug, he thought, pouring coffee for both of them.
He brought the mugs over and set one in front of her.
“Sugar? Creamer? The creamer is only the powder type, but it's what I've got.”
“No, black will be fine this time. Sometimes I take sugar, but I want the coffee to kick me in the teeth this time.”
She picked it up and took a slug.
“Careful, there's liable to be a few grounds in it. I've never managed to brew in the percolator without getting grounds in the coffee.”
“Don't care,” she said. “It's coffee, that's what counts.”
After she finished her coffee, she seemed much happier. At least she was until she looked at her clothes, then sniffed at them.
“Can we go see if my bag is out there?” she asked. “I really need to clean these clothes and I've at least got something else in there to wear while I do, even if it isn't suitable for wearing outside.”