by MacCraw
A booming gunshot punched a hole through both the chest of the wolf and the silence of the medium-end apartment. Hannah narrowly ducked past a .338 bullet that very nearly struck her in the eye. The dog wailed in pain and turned to face its new attackers, who opened up on it with a buzzing barrage of MP5 fire and the occasional pump and drum cycle of a SPAS-15 shotgun. The dog soldier could not handle the pain, and plunged out the window alongside a storm of shattered glass.
“Nice shot, Poet”, Kirkley said, patting Poet on the shoulder as she stood triumphant with her new sniper rifle. “Sit out on the fire escape. Logan, Pack, slam some fresh ones in your weapons. Connor, Kylie, go check upstairs.”
“I… I don’t understand this”, Hannah said, shaking her head and running her hands through her short hair, “Why did you come back for me?”
“It’s like I said, mate”, Kirkley smiled, extending his arm to Hannah, “We’re a team, and we need each other. We’re a hand – not an anatomically correct hand; a hand nonetheless. Alone, a finger cannot curl a fist, it cannot grab, it cannot hold on, and it can’t function without the other fingers. Alone we are nothing, and together, we are everything. You’re a part of this team, and we can’t do it without you.”
Hannah reluctantly shook Kirkley’s hand in return, and while he had her hand clenched in his, he pulled her up to his chest and hugged her. Hannah shed several tears as she firmly clutched Kirkley, vowing to herself to never leave his side ever again.
“I’m so sorry”, Hannah sniffed.
“It’s alright”, Kirkley nodded. “Pack, Logan, go downstairs. Hannah and I need a moment.”
The two gunmen acknowledged their leader’s orders, and walked downstairs to keep a watch posted on the front and back doors.
“I was wrong”, Hannah cried. “I’ve been so horrible to you, to Kylie, and to everybody else.”
“Admitting to a problem is the first step to correcting it”, said Kirkley. “An apology is actually one of the most difficult things a person can do. We’re so overfilled with pride and a bloated ego that we feel like we’re betraying ourselves by apologizing.”
“Speaking of which, can you please get Kylie?” Hannah requested. “I need to apologize to her.”
…
“…I’m sorry, Kylie”, Hannah explained as she and Kylie sat down next to each other on the bed. “I never had anything against you personally; you seem like a really cool girl. It’s just that when your ex-chief killed my friend Riley, I sort of imagined the face of the enemy as your face.”
“A pretty good looking face”, Kylie grinned.
“Please don’t make me feel guilty”, Hannah sighed. “But the other thing is that it’s just second nature for me to insult people. My parents and the people in my high school used to harass me, and pick out things about me that they didn’t like, and it rubbed off on me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Hannah”, Kylie sighed. “My parents were always off doing other things, and they just left me at home, so I never really had time to do anything with them.”
“So it essentially felt like you had no parents.”
“Essentially.”
“Remember those childhood fantasies we all had when we were young? ‘Bout having no parents bossing us around and whatnot?” asked Hannah.
“Yeah, I know what you mean”, Kylie replied. “Well, those fantasies became realities – no parents are harassing us, but a bunch of wolf men are.”
“Slight improvement”, Hannah smiled.
…
“Everybody good to go?” asked Kirkley.
“All tooled up and ready to kick some furry ass”, Connor grinned as he swung his club back and forth.
“Alright, we need to get out of Glasgow, and quite frankly I’m sick and tired of this fucking place”, Kirkley continued. “Any ideas?”
“We need to do some looting before anything else”, said Pack. “Get some more food and ammunition. Once we have all of that, we should just push in one direction, and reassess the situation from a different viewpoint… literally.”
“Sounds good. Connor, you and I are gonna do some door breaching. Poet, stay on the sniper position and shoot anything that gets within 20 yards of the building.”
…
“So, Connor, I don’t really think I’ve gotten the opportunity to talk to you and get to know you that much”, Kirkley said as he and Connor dug around through the cupboards. “What’s your story?”
“Came from Newfoundland, actually”, Connor explained. “We lived out away from society, and relied on hunting as not only a tool of survival, but as an art. Anyone can drop a buck with a rifle, but to take one down in a conventional sense with bone battle clubs and machetes takes prowess and skill. Blindly running after an animal which could run considerably faster than you is futile and stupid, but to show great strength and mastery of the art of stealth, you would need to wait for dinner to come to you. With my family’s club, I’d use this notch below the ball to snag a leg and trip up the animal I was stalking, before using the ball of the club, the most blunt and deadly component of the weapon, to smash a leg and immobilize the target before delivering a swift killing blow with my knife.”
“That sounds totally incredible, mate”, Kirkley commented. “So what brought you out here to Scotland?”
“Well, after my mother caught a disease, she died because we were unable to cure it”, Connor sighed. “Dad sort of took the blame for not being able to prevent his wife’s death, and he decided that we would need to try and modernize ourselves. We took a boat to Scotland, and I was living there for about 4 years prior to shit hitting the fan. Even though in terms of medicines and technologies, I was back up to speed with the 21st century, I still refused to use firearms due to how unbearably easy they made things. My weapons are all I have now, not just of my family, but of my heritage and culture.”
“That’s not all you have”, Kirkley said, patting Connor on the back. “You’ve got us. We’re a family.”
“You’re right, Kirk”, replied Connor. “Cheers, mate.”
Both of the men were suddenly transfixed on a shiny circular object sitting on a dresser, which they viewed as an exponentially useful game changer.
…
“While Kirk and ‘Conn are out looting for more consumables, how about we put some thought into what our escape plan’s going to be”, Pack announced, only to have everybody stare vacantly at him.
“…We’re lost in the capital of Scotland, which is overrun with human bandits and dog soldiers, and we have no idea where we are”, said Hannah. “Not particularly easy to deal with.”
“That’s why we’re brainstorming”, Pack replied.
“You know, I actually have expertise in automotive engineering”, Kylie grinned. “We could build a car or something.”
“Build a fucking car?!” Hannah gasped, plunging forwards, “Have you lost your damn mind?”
“Hey, we could get some parts, oil it up, and reinforce it as much as we need it to”, Kylie explained. “We could build a land rover with an improved engine, faster speed, and more armor. If we got enough full cans of fuel, we could probably drive the damn thing all the way out to London.”
“Why not just hotwire and reuse one of these vehicles scattered all over the city?” asked Pack.
“Those ones are very badly damaged, and on top of that they’ve probably aged considerably. It’d take a while to take out a bunch of old parts, repair them, put them back into the vehicle, and then just expect the whole thing to run perfectly fine”, said Kylie. “It’s just too impractical.”
“So we’re building a getaway van then, huh?” Hannah questioned.
“Yep.”
Everybody fell quiet upon hearing thumping footsteps coming from the floors above them, and they grabbed their weapons in preparation for a potential ambush, though fortunately it was Kirkley and Connor, who had finished marching downstairs and back to their allies.
“What’s the haul?” Hannah
asked as Kirkley emptied the contents of his backpack.
“More snacks, drinks, some basic consumables, but…” Kirkley smiled, “We nabbed this.”
Everyone squealed in excitement when Kirkley pulled the compass out of his pocket.
“Dude, where the f- what the f- where the hell did you find that?!” Hannah exclaimed.
“Upstairs”, Connor remarked, “As if that wasn’t obvious.”
“Whatever, dude, but we actually have a bloody compass now!” Hannah cheered.
“And the good vibe doesn’t die there”, Pack said to Kirkley. “We’ve decided to try and build a car from scratch. Little Kylie Kerns here is a ‘wrenchwoman’.”
Pack chuckled over his play on words, only to have the rest of the group give him the same sullen look that Hannah gave to everybody else.
“…Oh why do I try…” Pack sighed, rolling his eyes and opening up a can of ravioli.
…
“Here you go, Poet”, Kirkley said as he handed his mute friend a bottle of mineral water and some crackers. Poet smiled and nodded to her friend as she took a sip of water and a few crackers before she resumed looking through her bolt-action .338 magnum’s long-range scope.
“So, what should we be doing first tomorrow… morning…?” asked Hannah, who slowed down upon realizing the redundant elements of her question.
“Assuming you mean if Su wins the war against its evil twin Sat, then we get jobs and live happily ever after in a Scottish paradise”, Kirkley joked. “If you mean in 7 hours, while the sun still don’t shine, we go search for some place that has cars of some kind, and then from there we’ll need to make that place an outpost, so we don’t have to keep marching back and forth from here to there. It could be across the street, or it could be across town, but either way I don’t feel like taking those extra steps. Now once we find those cars, we’ll need Kylie to take some of them apart, ideally the ones in better condition.”
“Why those ones?” said Logan. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to use those cars, instead of tearing ‘em apart?”
“Chances are good that the few cars that are intact are probably two-seater sports cars. Building a fresh new car would be preferable.”
“So we’re constructing a car, then.”
“Aye, lad.”
…
After everybody had finished their food, they decided it would be preferable to get some sleep before embarking on another quest through the titan of a city. The apartment complex that the survivors were residing in were full of vacant rooms, and after locking down the building, they all went into separate rooms for a sense of both privacy and solitude.
Much to the ire of Captain Pack, who was always exhausted, Kirkley called dibs on a rather luxurious flat with a very artistic and colorful design. The circular bed was marvelous, covered with a marvelous multi-toned gold-to-brown colored bed sheet that reminded Kirkley of Hannah’s magnificently beautiful hair. Kirkley slid out of his heavy carryall, placed his satchel on the dresser, and propped his trusty SPAS-15 up against the side of the bed before unzipping his body armor and removing his police vest. Finally, Kirkley took off his dirty trousers and his sweaty shirt, before climbing into the bed and tunneling into the covers. The moment he shut his eyes, somebody lightly knocked on the door, which strongly irritated him.
“Come in”, he groaned.
Predictably, but surprisingly, it was none other than Hannah.
“Well look who’s come a-courtin’”, Kirkley grinned.
Hannah shut the door behind her. “Do you think I could crash here with you?”
“I’d have no qualms about it.”
Hannah smiled, and ditched everything that anchored her down from a good, pleasurable sleep. She got into bed with her strong but gentle friend, and grunted upon hauling herself in.
“Ugh”, Hannah moaned, poking her stomach which was at work breaking down all of the food packed inside of it, “I’m so full.”
“It’s okay”, Kirkley said in a seductive tone as he gently rubbed it, “I’ve got a kink for that sort of thing.”
“Oh do you, now?” Hannah smiled.
“Now I do.”
The temptation finally burst from Hannah, and she began forcefully rubbing herself against Kirkley, who was almost immediately aroused. Picking up quickly on Hannah’s cues, he started to grope and caress her curvaceous form as his compass pointed north. When he was fully prepared, he docked with his partner, who squealed in joy and excitement as Kirkley went deeper into her. The overwhelming volumes of pleasure were far too much to take, and Hannah felt herself totally climaxing in a long, uncontrolled burst of ecstatic enjoyment as Kirkley continued to penetrate deeper inside of her as he played with her tummy and breasts. It all finally came out of Hannah, and she was showered in sweat and laughing happily.
“That was spectacular”, Hannah gasped.
“Not as spectacular as you”, said Kirkley as he continued to caress Hannah’s bum and breasts.
“Hey, can you keep it down?” Pack shouted from a room somewhere nearby, “I’m trying to-“
Hannah merely reached for her pistol and fired off a single, booming shot. “Alright, alright!” Pack yelled, surprised by how radically Hannah had acted.
“Overkill”, commented Kirkley before continuing to massage his woman.
…
The erotic dust settled, and the two new lovers were comfortably relaxed in the bed.
“You know, Hannah”, Kirkley remarked, “You’re one of a kind.”
Hannah felt somewhat hurt by this comment, despite its good intentions. “That’s probably what you said to Samantha.”
“She’s a one-of-a-kind monster”, explained Kirkley. “I thought I found a lover but she was just a fling. Then I met you and felt a different thing.”
“That’s sweet”, Hannah smiled, blushing bright crimson.
“My allegiance and devotion to Samantha is as gone as she is”, Kirkley declared. “I’ve grown closer to you in the short time I’ve known you than I had to Samantha in several years. You’ve done so much for everybody on this team.”
“But, I mean, I attempted to desert the group, and you dropped your goals to come and bring me back.”
“You had lost your way, and it had really bothered me”, Kirkley explained. “The rest of the group didn’t initially agree with me, though.”
…
7 hours prior to the intercourse session of Kirkley and Hannah, Hannah had just finished venting out her frustration and anger on her group members, and had angrily stormed off into the concrete jungle. It amazed Kirkley how shallow his friends were; how in one moment they went from admiring and looking up to Hannah to wishing her death and malevolence, all in a matter of seconds.
“Goodbye, and good riddance”, Pack scoffed, giving Hannah the finger.
“Too right, mate”, said Connor. “Hey, maybe we can actually get something done, eh?”
“…Yeah”, Kirkley reluctantly sighed, not agreeing with Hannah’s decision or his allies’ responses but not having the courage or wherewithal to protest.
…
“Holy shit! Score!” Pack cheered as he rummaged through the supply crates of a downed transport helicopter. “Poet, you’re gonna love this, mate!”
Poet scrambled over to Pack, and slowly lowered her fist in silent triumph as she pulled out a new sniper rifle. It was a German-made GOL magnum, an extremely accurate, high-powered rifle favored by police and anti-terrorist units, and loathed by criminals and terrorists. The crate was a narrow storage unit which contained the sniper rifle and several loaded magazines for it. A few other crates were opened, but the weapons and magazines were missing. Poet was as cheerful as a child on Christmas morning, and as soon as she locked a fresh new cartridge into her GOL, she happily kissed her new toy.
“We’ve got some more firepower now”, Logan commented as he and his allies continued the march through Glasgow, “And at least morale’s improved quite a bit, especially with
Hannah gone.”
“Speak for yourself”, Kirkley growled.
The air blew strongly as everybody paused and turned to face Kirkley. Nobody spoke, partly because they had no idea what to say.
“…And you feel that you can justify Hannah’s behavior against us why…?”
“Because she just wasn’t well”, explained Kirkley. “She was having an emotional crisis, and I feel- I know that if you or I or anybody in our band of brothers and sisters was feeling the same way, then she’d stop and turn back to help.”
“She thoroughly trashed your leadership skills, man”, Pack insisted.
“I’m not a leader”, said Kirkley. “A leader directs and commands. I’m a guide, a harbinger. I receive ideas, and I help carry them out into effective strategies that benefit us all.”
“Well it’s just like that shitty movie ‘Batman & Robin’”, Logan replied, “She was – and is – a whiny little bitch who fails to acknowledge brilliant strategists such as yourself.”
“Hey, we’re not comparing Hannah to the only thing worse than the wolves”, Kirkley declared.
Kirkley turned to Pack. “Pack Man, you know what it’s like to be separated from those you care about. Do you really want to become the object of your nightmares?”
Pack shivered as he remorsefully thought of the atrocious demise of the Six-Pack in the disastrous invasion of Nuwari, and overcame his personal feelings to side with Kirkley.
“Fine. I’m in. Anybody else want to take the trail of forgiveness?” Pack said.