Slow Fever

by Bushman, Leona

  “Yes,” she replied without hesitation, wishing she could give him comfort. Offer a solution which didn’t include making these decisions. Of course they had to burn the dog. In the back of her mind, she’d been thinking they’d bury it, and maybe that would help Jack. But, they couldn’t. The tears in her eyes clouded her vision, and she sort of walk-stumbled to her vehicle.

  If it hit her this hard, how much worse must the other three feel? She fumbled with her hiking backpack as she grabbed the fire starter, then snagged the gas can.

  With the recent heat, plenty of dry kindling littered the ground. She collected a bunch and got the fire going, then fed it more and larger pieces while Jack cried. Sobbed, actually.

  “We have to bury him, Dad, or he might become one of them.”

  Her head whipped around at his words. Seb wouldn’t give in to him, would he?

  Seb’s left hand was on Jack’s shoulder. From her position, she saw a large hunting knife in his right. “Son, it’s too late. Ruff has already turned. Look at the dog.”

  Karla had let loose the full waterworks, albeit silently. The kid’s shoulders drooped as much as his dad’s, but the effect was more total. As if someone had sucked all the helium out of a balloon.

  Jack yelled. “No. You can’t. He’s my dog, not some, some, abomination.”

  From her position, she saw Ruff raise his head and let out a weak bark. Slowly, she stood up, just in case...

  “Jack,” she said. Maybe she couldn’t kill the dog for Seb, but maybe she could help both father and son with it. “Seb.”

  She met Rachel’s look and nodded toward Jack. He’d need her now. Rachel didn’t need any more prompting than that as she immediately ran over and grabbed Jack’s hand.

  “Rachel’s friend Trisha told us a story. Maybe you could say that’ll mean Ruff is going to be nice. But the parents ate each other in love and laughter. Whatever sickness this is, it makes people eat raw flesh. We are brought up to cook our meat, to look at it as barbaric. Ruff is an animal. They eat their meat raw anyway. Whether vicious or sweet, Ruff will want to eat you. Eat us.”

  Jack’s face, which had become wet and ruddy with his tears, now paled. She hated it, but he had to see the truth. Seb’s skin had gone as pale as his son’s. Rachel held on tight to Jack. Karla wished she could hold onto Seb, ease the heartache etched on his face.

  “Dad.” Jack straightened up and held Rachel close. “I hadn’t thought it through. I just kept thinking he’d be nice. But—but he’d lick me to death. Like, for real. Or Rachel. I can’t, can’t risk her.” Jack’s voice broke on the last word, the tears running unashamedly down his cheeks, the snot glistening until he brushed his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

  Karla thought Seb would bawl. The emotions which ran across his face were so intense, so raw, that her soul ached.

  “Jack, Rachel, go sit in my car.”

  “But—”

  She intervened. “Jack, you made a very brave decision today. But how do you think your dad would feel having to kill Ruff in front of you? It’s hurting him already, because he knows what your pet means to you.”

  “Will you stay with him for me, then?”

  Karla’s heart broke. “Yes.”

  Rachel tugged on his hand, and they left the area of the picnic table. Karla walked over. Ruff was moving more. “Best do it before he’s completely able to move.”

  “I know.”

  Yet, he stood there. She looked at his face and saw the tears had finally started to flow. She put her hand on his shoulder. At that moment, she realized Jack had been asking her to stay with his dad, not Ruff.

  Tears ran down her cheeks again as her emotions welled up in response to his. How lucky she’d been to be with this man who felt so much. Who didn’t shirk from duties no matter how hard. She stood back a half-step and waited with her eyes closed. She could be there with Seb, but she couldn’t watch.

  But she couldn’t shut out the noise made when the knife entered, or the sob which left Seb. For the rest of her life, she didn’t think she’d ever forget that moment. When she heard the rustling of the tarp, she opened her eyes again and went to help Seb move the tarp. “Seb. You’re a good man.”

  The look he gave her in response told her he didn’t believe what she said. Biting her lip to keep from saying more, she silently helped him carry Ruff over to the fire, tarp and all.

  Jack and Rachel got out of the car and came and stood where they were. No one spoke as the flames consumed its newest fuel. How long they stood there—an hour; two?—while the fire slowly burned, she didn’t know. But they waited until the fire burned to nothing.

  While Seb went down to get water from the river, Jack ran off and came back with something. Curious, she watched as he scraped the ashes into a small container with a lid, then put it in his pocket. She didn’t say anything.

  What could she say?

  Seb doused the fire. “I know a place near here. It rents out for business retreats and weddings but is otherwise unused. So, we’ll either find a lot of people or nobody. It’s surrounded by meadows from all directions, and the forest is part of the property. We’ll be able to forage for food and maybe hole up. There are bedrooms and rec rooms, the whole nine yards.”

  “Is this where Aunt Michaela got married?” Jack asked.

  “Same place.”

  “That’s actually a really good idea. That place had everything. Even a pantry stocked full of canned goods.”

  “That sounds like a good place, then,” she agreed. And, they would see trouble coming. Probably part of why Seb had thought of it.

  With heavy, slow steps, they piled back into the vehicles, the adults driving. The trip didn’t take long. She didn’t know how they did in the Bronco, but things were pretty quiet in her vehicle. Sometimes she saw people wandering along the road. She’d be tempted to offer rides until they turned their faces. The skin and the teeth gave them away.

  How long had this virus lain dormant, waiting its turn? The bubonic plague of modern times. Sadness nestled deep within her. So many lives. So much death and fear for the survivors. She hoped that one of the amenities at the place they were headed included television.

  “Rachel? What is it?” she asked as she turned down a dirt road. Likely the barn in the distance was their destination. Rachel had been fidgeting for the last hour.

  “Nothing. Just. Everything. You know.”

  Well, no she didn’t know. Otherwise, why would she ask? Though she’d come to care for Rachel, she didn’t know her well. Just the few times she’d seen her at Seb’s when she’d been there for work parties and these last few days. Did the nothing mean not her business, or something so important the young woman was afraid to talk about it?

  She’d ask Seb when they were settled. The sun hung low in the sky beyond the hills. A sharp tree line lay off to the west. A few low, thin clouds of summer were lit orange, and pink, and purple. The beauty of the sunset served as a reminder that not everything had turned ugly. Logical or not, it gave her a small piece of hope that she’d lost when Trisha was killed.

  But what had Rachel more stirred up than she’d been when the zombie killed Ruff?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Again, I found myself hurting more for my son than for the rest of the world. But isn’t that the ingrained way a parent works? Do we really care if the world falls apart, as long as it doesn’t affect our children? Then again, that’s a fallacy. I’m sure that some people thought we should mind our own business instead of looking into the ingredients of the soap and why it worked.

  I remember hearing people talk and say we needed to stay out of other countries’ business. I disagreed on one level. If they are importing things to us, things that we eat, use on our body, that will then be in our landfills, in our water system, then I believe we not only have the right, but the responsibility to make sure the items are held to a standard at least as high as things made here.

  I can’t remember how many people I
pissed off telling my friends and family to buy the more expensive brands made by people we know. Or any local store which kept the money in the community. Or support an artist, preferably locally.

  Yes, I’m still a freethinking hippie at heart. Catching a theme here? But that way, free enterprise could continue to thrive. My opinion was practically heresy in the place I worked. Our stocks were not made by single entities, or small businesses. We represented big business.

  Well, tough shit. I said that once when someone dared accuse me of making the company unstable with my ideas. I told him that if the big businesses couldn’t handle competition from someone more expensive, they didn’t deserve to be in business, and that I’d always recommend quality over cheap. I had him there, as it was part of our company’s motto. Needless to say, we didn’t do many lunches together.

  But I digress.

  Sort of.

  In the time I had at the house, I began to think. The news reports; everything made me think. I’m a thoughtful thinker. Even as a wild and crazy young person. What I did was think about life, the universe, and everything. And yes, I loved the Hitchhiker series.

  I can’t seem to stay on topic tonight. Maybe I shouldn’t keep writing. No, I must. Our story must be told.

  In case we don’t survive.

  Sebastian

  Sebastian finished pulling hay for the horses. He’d debated on whether they should be outside—chance to escape—or inside, safely hidden to the casual eye. Hidden won out. If zombies were close enough to be eating their horses, they had bigger issues. Maybe keeping the horses inside would protect them that much longer. The barn was huge and comfortable. Technically, the horses and people could have all stayed in the barn. There were cots and running water. However, the horses were to stay in the barn, the people in the huge house, which they sent the kids to upon arrival laden with bags and supplies.

  The owners had gone all out making it modern with a rustic feel, and it had been popular with the middle and upper class of Yakima and the surrounding area. He remembered being impressed last summer. Thankfully, the accommodations lived up to his memory.

  With one last pat on the rump of the gelding he’d bedded down for the night, he looked to see how Karla fared. The lights of the barn were bright, and they made it easy to see the worry lines and the dark shadows under her eyes. She locked the stall door and turned to him.

  He knew, in that instant, that love and lust were mediocre words to describe how he felt about her. Her strength, her courage, even her weakness, made a tempting package for any man. Jack respected her, too. And that was important to him. He’d meant to ask her what she thought he should do about Jack—force him to talk or wait until Jack came to him—but he changed his mind.

  He took a step toward her, but she had already started and jumped in his arms. He brought her to him, and their mouths met in a furious passion of need. Her lips parted with no coaxing from him, and he plunged her depths. His cock already throbbed, and they’d barely begun. The intensity burned him from the inside and warmed the chilled places caused by the last few days.

  With one hand on each of her thighs, he lifted her up and carried her against the stall doors. Without missing a beat, she wrapped her legs around his waist, completely opening herself to him. He pushed against her, over and over, their lust rising. With every thrust, he wanted in her more. With great self-restraint, he worked to make her come first.

  A great challenge as his hands held her weight, but one he rose to. He trailed kisses down her neck and suckled the pulse where it met her collarbone. Her loud gasp and “oh” spurred him on. Harder he sucked, pumping against her through their jeans.

  She arched her head back and said, “More, more,” repeatedly.

  As he sucked harder and her “mores” gave way to hot panting, he nipped at her neck, and she screamed in his arms while he thrust against her. Her orgasm plowed through her, and he could barely hold her as her body arched and shook.

  Those little sounds from her drove him wild, pushing him to please her more. His muscles tensed as he fought for control while he slid her legs down so she stood on her own, then flipped her around, a little rough. He pulled her hands up above her head and held her wrists against the wall. God, he wanted her, needed her, especially now with all the horror they’d witnessed. He would never tire of the way she felt in his arms.

  Then her ass wiggled against his prick as she whimpered, and he groaned. He ran his other hand down the front of her, caressing every curve, every bump, as he built her up again, seeking to give her as much pleasure as she gave him.

  He slipped his hand down to her waist and started undoing her jeans, wanting, needing to touch her. With a clutch-hold on his self-control, he pushed so his body was right on hers, his throbbing cock straining against his jeans.

  He bit her earlobe, and when she moaned, he stuck his free hand down the newly released waistband and under her undies until his fingers found her clit. After a brief circle of the swollen flesh, he reached down even further and kissed her shoulder as he found her wet heat. Seb pulled his hand out slightly and applied her juices to her clit, and rubbed and circled until her breath came out in short pants.

  God how he wanted her, all of her. This submissive side of her, this complete surrender to their needs, caused his heart to stutter. How had he lived without touching her for so long? His body ached to be a part of hers, to reaffirm they were alive.

  “You ready for me?” he asked her, his voice hoarse with lust and love. “Ready for my cock in your pussy?”

  “Yes, oh yes.”

  “Yes, what?” Dominance in bed came naturally to him, and her response drove him wild. Like now. She fell a little, as if her legs couldn’t hold her anymore and made this sound in the back of her throat which caused his dick to jump and push painfully against his jeans.

  “Yes. Please. Fuck me. Please,” she finished in a high-pitched voice while rocking her hips against his hand.

  The dam holding him back burst. He desperately wanted her. Now. With short movements, he pushed her pants down to her ankles, then stood back and looked at her sweet, pale ass. The muscles clenched while he stared. He groaned, working hard to find some self-control when he wanted to claim her, burn himself into her heart as much as she was in his. With shaky hands, he released the snap and slid the zipper of his jeans and pushed them down as he continued to stare at her tight muscles.

  So hot. So sexy.

  He grabbed his swollen cock which pulsated as if blue fire and liquid heat filled it. How the hell had he stayed away from her? The lust strong as if he’d been building up from sexual frustration, he rubbed himself against her ass, following her crack. Testing her, he pushed into her a bit as he slid his dick down to her pussy opening.

  Her response was to make more noises as she stuck her ass out farther. He spread her legs as wide as her jeans would allow with his knee. Her height was perfect. Slightly bending his knees to get his cock in the right position, he surged as soon as he found her damp entrance. Her loud cry was his reward.

  A surge of satisfaction rushed through him as he put his arm around her waist and started to pound into her. As they found their rhythm, he slipped his hand under her shirt, pushed her bra off her breasts, and began to pinch her nipples. Gently at first, then harder as their sex became more frenzied. Her pussy muscles clenched around him, tightening and loosening, and adding to his sweet torture.

  Seb kept thrusting into her and playing with her nipples. Her body seemed an extension of him. He sensed when she wanted more on her nipples, faster on his thrusts. So responsive and sexy; how could he do other than pleasure her as much as he could?

  “Oh God, I’m close,” she said throatily.

  “Come for me, Karla. Come hard.”

  Her pussy clenched around him, and her voice broke as she tried to talk to him. “I want you to come, too.”

  He took his hand off her nipples and spanked her ass, and she jumped and moaned. “I said come for me, Ka
rla.” He rubbed where he’d slapped, then grabbed her and moved his hips faster. “Come, baby.” He still had her hands over her head, holding her where he wanted her.

  She let loose then. Her loud cries echoed in the barn.

  He rode her hard until he’d milked her orgasm to the fullest. With a quick movement, he pulled out of her and positioned his slick cock at her other hole. He heard her quick intake of breath and paused to see if she resisted. Instead, she pushed back into him, and his tip went in.

  “Easy, baby. Easy. I don’t want to hurt you.” He gasped as the exquisite feel of just his tip being in her ass threatened to cause him to lose self-control.

  Gently, he rocked his head back and forth and reached around to her clit. He stroked her clit round and round and eased himself in deeper, a slow bit at a time. Even as it shot up his lust, it agonized him to have to use all his willpower when he wanted to bury himself.

  Karla apparently had other ideas and pushed against him until he had buried himself balls-deep. He kept trying to say, “Slow,” but the word got stuck in the back of his mouth as another moan erupted. Soon, the only sounds in the barn were their grunts and groans, and their skin slapping in an increasing tempo.

  His cock throbbed and engorged, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before he came. He wanted—needed—her to come with him. However, his brain wouldn’t function on logic, and he gave back over to lust. The graceful turn of her tan shoulders stirred something primeval which moved through him, and he bit down on her shoulder as a stallion would a mare.

  It sent her over the edge, and she called out his name as he thrust into her and let himself go. As they both simmered down, he licked the spot he’d bit and let go of her hands. After he could move again, he pulled out...and nearly fell trying to walk with his pants around his ankles. With a gruff, “Oh,” he stumbled to the stall door and grabbed hold, then he tried to right his clothing while Karla turned her face away from him. But it didn’t hide the shake of her shoulders. God, he loved this woman.