There's Blood on the Moon Tonight

by Bryn Roar

  “I need you,” she said, grabbing a hold of his penis in the dark. It twitched eagerly in her cool hand. “It’s so hot. So hard. I can feel your heart beat, Buddy boy.”

  “Josie! For Pete’s sake, wake up!”

  Tubby realized his protests were falling on deaf ears. Literally. As far as Josie was concerned, Ralph Tolson wasn’t even in the room! It was as if she was sleepwalking in a dream with Bud Brown. Her cool hand left him for a moment, and then Tubby’s shorts were suddenly pulling past his knocking knees. Then the soft touch of her hand again. Tubby longed to see that hand wrapped around him, stroking him so lovingly with those long tapered fingers. Her fingertips found the oily fluid oozing from the tip and used it to lubricate her palm. Her hand was too small to grasp him fully; it roamed around the fibrous shaft like a curious tourist, journeying up, then down, bringing Tubby to a place he’d never known before.

  He shuddered from head to foot.

  Josie felt Bud’s penis throb in her hand, as if it had a heart all its own. It felt bigger than before, and she decided that was probably normal. After all, he’s a growing boy! Although, if it grows any bigger…

  Josie didn’t know much about such things, but she knew this was a penis any man would’ve been proud to have dangle between his legs. The kind of cock most women fantasized about in their most private moments. It made the rubber phallus in Shayna’s bedside table seem prepubescent by comparison. She assumed, like her breasts, that a boy’s penis must also get bigger with age. She heard his breath quicken and felt his body shudder. Struggling not to cum. She wanted desperately to turn on the lights, to see the semen spurting, to see the joyous and pained expression on his rugged, handsome face, as she brought him to the heights of pleasure. Her other hand reached for the light, just as Bud began to meet her fist with upward thrusts of his belly…and something stopped her. A dread that not everything would be as it seemed. The same instinct that keeps us clutching and grasping to stay within a wonderful dream, when our body and consciousness are beginning to awaken. She stayed her hand and reluctantly let go of him. Bud groaned in frustration (and something else, it seemed to Josie. Sadness, perhaps?). She stood up to pull her Billy Joel T-shirt from her body. To step out of her panties…

  Tubby could see Josie’s white underwear glowing in the dark, sliding down her long legs. For a second, when she’d let go of him, he thought she’d finally come to her senses, cognizant now that she was about to do something she might regret for the rest of her life. And even though Tubby wanted her—oh, how he ached for her—he still felt the need to reach out to her one last time. “Josie…don’t you realize what you’re doing? I’m not who you think—”

  Suddenly her mouth was on his, silencing him. Her tongue pushed deep into his mouth and Tubby surrendered to it. The warmth and silkiness of her pink tongue sliding across his own, drawing it into her open mouth, caused him to dismiss all other concerns from his mind. If Bud Brown himself had suddenly walked into the room, Tubby didn’t think he would’ve been able to stop himself. His hands reached up and found her tits. It was a moment he knew he’d never forget, his first time exploring a woman’s breasts, and he took his time in satisfying his boyish curiosity. Expounding on the memory. The way they filled his hands. The bountiful curves and lusty weight. The wondrous softness, and finally, the straining, stiff nipples. It thrilled him to hear Josie cry out every time his hand brushed across those sensitive pebbled nubs. Reality was even better than the fantasy! He too wished that the lights were on so that he could see what was transpiring. So he could better store this miraculous event in his memory banks. He smelled something musky in the air; a heady aroma that made his nostrils flare. He realized with something akin to joy that the intoxicating scent belonged to Josie. Coming from the mysterious delta between her legs. He instinctually understood that she was readying herself for him. His penis flexed in his lap, eager to oblige.

  As if on cue, Josie’s hand dropped once more to his cock and began to milk him.

  “Oh!” he groaned into her open mouth. “Ohhhh! Josie, I-I-I’m about to-to-to-to—”

  Josie’s lips suddenly left Tubby’s mouth, leaving his face cool where the fever of her kiss had been. And just as suddenly, too quickly for Tubby to react, Josie maneuvered her sex over his. He felt her guiding the head of his penis to something tight, velvety warm, and slippery. Josie whimpered as she inched her way down his bull-like appendage. “I’m hurting you!” he cried in distress, struggling to pull out, despite how exquisite it felt. But Josie seemed so much stronger than he!

  She clamped down on him like a vice, refusing to release him, pushing his arms by his side. Her face pressed against his cheek on the sofa, her breath hot and moist on his neck. “Don’t wake them up,” she ordered him hoarsely. The tears on her face dampened his cheek. “Fill me up, Buddy boy,” she sighed, lowering herself the rest of the way down in one intemperate thrust. Tubby felt his penis tear through something ephemeral. Her hymen, he thought to himself in clinical wonder. That was her hymen!

  What could only be blood followed. Sticky and hot, it flowed down his shaft, pooling at the base of his laboring cock. “A-a-are you okay?” he asked her, horrified that he might have really hurt his friend, while at the same time wanting to accommodate her ardent wishes.

  Josie didn’t answer. Her hips rose up from his lap, hesitated oh, so briefly, and then descended again, much slower this time. She began to pick up the pace, crying through the pain, as she made love to the phantom in her mind. With her face right beside his, Tubby could hear her every whimper, experience her every tear. He felt his seed rising upwards. There was no turning back now. He grasped the hollows on Josie’s hips and began meeting her urgent thrusts with those of his own. Josie’s cries of pain had now turned to something else. Her virgin blood replaced with a fluid that not only eased her discomfort, but heightened their mutual pleasure.

  “I love you, Josie O’Hara,” Tubby said unashamed to the face next to his. It was the truth. The God Honest Truth. And by God he was glad to have said it at last.

  Josie’s face turned to his, and Tubby thought she might be seeing him for who he really was. Not a figment of her broken heart. Just as quickly, though, her green eyes glazed over again, and Tubby knew she was seeing Bud Brown underneath her, filling her up, consummating their love at long last. “I love you too, Buddy boy. Ohhhh. How I love you!” And that was all right by Tubby. He understood that Josie couldn’t return his feelings. Not the way she still felt about Bud. It was too soon. But maybe with time...

  Josie spasmed against him, and a deep resounding shudder went through her body. Like satisfied thunder.

  Tubby responded with one last push into the warm, velvet glove. He cried out as his sperm left him in its first fulminating jet. Too late, he remembered they had no birth control. “Oh, no! J-Josie…I-I’m…cummmiinng!” he gasped into her ear. “Josssseiiieeeee!”

  “It’s okay, baby,” Josie cooed calmly, in stark contrast to his own fervent pitch, pulling him deep into her canal. Tubby felt their pubic bones meet for the first time, as his seed emptied into her. Vivid colors mushroomed against his inner eyelids, and an electric tingle traversed the width and length of his body, his toes curling in ecstasy.

  Finally spent, Josie let him slip from between her legs. He felt sticky and cold down there, his penis beginning to soften against her thigh. It was a sad feeling, not having her warmth engulf him, for he understood that he would never know that exquisite heat again.

  Not with Josie O’Hara, he wouldn’t.

  Josie seemed as spent as Tubby. More even. Their lovemaking had calmed her tumultuous heart and mind—enough for her to get some desperately needed sleep. She kissed the side of his face, her eyes drooping to slits. As before, Josie seemed unaware of who he was. She crawled on to the couch beside him, pulling her lover’s arms over her pillowy breasts as she finally succumbed to sleep.

  Deep, deep, wonderful sleep...

  *******

 
; On the day thatThe Creeps—what was left of them—left the Bunker, Tubby awoke in total darkness. He sat up and flexed his bad leg, grimacing at the stiffness and the deep ache that remained in the bone. He was definitely on the mend, though. In what had become a recent habit, he patted his much smaller belly. He’d lost a lot of weight since meeting his friends; especially the days spent wasting away in Margaritaville. Ralph Tolson didn’t realize it, but he’d become a handsome young man. He turned on the Coleman and made the very last slash mark on the wall, over what had been his hospital bed. He wouldn’t be sorry to leave it. He counted off the days and exhaled contentedly. They’d stayed longer than originally planned, using his broken leg as an excuse. Left unspoken was the real reason for their delayed departure. Truth was they were scared spitless of what they might discover topside.

  “Eight weeks. Jeepers.”

  “Jeepers, indeed,” said Josie, slipping through the black curtain quietly, so as not to disturb Rusty, still asleep in the back. “D-day, huh, Ralphie?”

  Tubby jumped at the sound of her voice. He smiled tightly as Josie sat beside him.

  “Be Christmas in a few days, Big Red.”

  Josie didn’t think it would ever be Christmas again. She was kind enough, however, not to say so in front of Ralphie. Of the three of them, it was Ralph who had strayed the least from who he was before the epidemic. His child spirit was still alive and well, while hers and Rusty’s had been beaten, bloodied, and left for dead on the other side of that fucking door.

  Tubby took a deep breath. The night she’d made love to him—or Bud, through him—Tubby had fallen asleep with her in his arms. He awoke later on to find Josie gone. What had she thought when she’d found herself lying naked next to her friend, his flaccid penis clamped cozily between her legs? His semen drying on her thighs? Tubby had no idea because Josie hadn’t spoken to him more than a dozen times since. It was as if he and Rusty were taking turns, being on the ‘Outs’ with their female counterpart. Josie and Rusty had since patched things up, and Rusty had asked both of them what was going on—neither would speak of the incident, though. Since then, Rusty had taken over Tubby’s care. It hurt Tubby the way Josie had so easily dismissed him from her life. He worried that she blamed him for what had happened that night. Did she think he had taken advantage of her? The thought made him want to curl up on the sofa and die.

  His heart raced as she sat next to him. She looked at the jigsaw scars on his leg and patted it affectionately.

  “Josie, I’m sorry for what happened!” he blurted. “If you’ll only let me explain—”

  Josie cut him off with a shake of her head. “You’ve nothing to apologize for, love. If anybody’s at fault, it was I. You see, up until that night I’d felt myself slipping.”

  Tubby frowned. “Slipping?”

  “My mind,” she explained with a shrug.

  She was fully dressed in jeans, polo shirt, and a bra underneath. It hadn’t escaped Tubby’s notice that after that night, Josie had ceased going around half-dressed. As if she’d suddenly become aware of her surroundings.

  “I felt like I was going crazy, you know? Trying to get by with little to no sleep. And when I did sleep, I had these awful dreams. It all came to a head that night you and I…Well, you know. After I found myself on the sofa with you…I-I knew I had finally snapped. And even though I felt whole again, and the nightmares had thankfully stopped, I was too mortified to speak to you.”

  Tubby couldn’t help but grin. “Glad I could be of help, me lady.”

  She punched him playfully in the arm. Then, blushing bright red, she said, “Me too, Ralphie. Me too.”

  Tubby sat up, allowing his leg to bend naturally. He glanced over at Josie hopefully. “I don’t suppose…”

  Josie said nothing. Just looked at him sadly and shook her head. The scent of strawberries made the rejection all the more painful. He smiled and shrugged, as if his heart wasn’t breaking into a million pieces.

  Grabbing a pair of clean socks off the table, she asked him, “How’s the leg, tiger?”

  He cleared the lump from his throat and watched Josie slip the athletic sock over his right foot. “Better,” he said. “I owe you guys so much.”

  Josie wiped the bottom of his left foot clean, slid his other sock on, helped him with his sneakers, and tied the laces on his shoes. It was a simple act of nurturing on her part, and yet indelibly intimate. Realizing this, Josie blushed and released his foot. She smiled down at him with her hands on her hips. “I don’t know about Rusty, but as far as I’m concerned, consider your debt paid in full.” It was Tubby’s turn to blush. “I’m not kidding, Ralphie,” she said with a sigh. He had turned into such a looker since she’d first met him—then again, Josie had always seen him for who he really was. “You, my fine friend, are going to be very popular with the ladies.”

  Tubby looked up at her. “Just not the one who matters most to me.”

  “Good morning, youCreepos,” said Rusty, pushing through the curtain. He pretended not to have heard what they were discussing. He’d suspected something like this had happened, but until now he hadn’t been sure. One thing was for certain: someone was going to get hurt if he didn’t break this nonsense up!

  Josie chuckled gratefully. “Morning, Gnat. Ready to say the magic word so we can blow this Popsicle stand?”

  Rusty shoved his glasses up on his nose. It had been an unspoken thing, his knowledge of the combination. To speak of it would convict him as an accessory to Bud’s murder. Each of them had a burden to bear, but that didn’t mean they had to make the load any heavier than was necessary. Josie put her arm around his shoulders. Despite his growth spurt, he was still shorter than her.

  “What do you think we’re going to find out there?” she asked him

  “I don’t know,” he said, his voice cracking.

  They had all heard the same panicked reports over the Weather Band radio, the urgency in the reporters’ tones growing day by day. Like fire in a dry hay field, RS13 had spread all along the East Coast. Cutter had been right: Several of the infected had made it to the mainland—courtesy of Hurricane Jack the Ripper. President Bush had enforced a quarantine on the whole of the United States. Not that anyone wanted to enter, but millions sure as hell wanted to get out! The first week after the virus reached the mainland, 89.8% of the virus had been contained to the Eastern Seaboard, and most of that to the Southern half.

  That’s when it really started to get hairy.

  Inexplicably, there were outbreaks in California, Utah, Nevada, and Michigan. According to one station before it went off the air, the virus was spreading faster than the quarantines could be put in place—this, despite the desperate, heavy-handed methods of USAMRIID.

  For a short time, RS13 had spared the rest of the world its madness. Except for one notable exception.

  Once his generals informed him that the mutant virus threatened to decimate the whole of the Eastern Seaboard, Bush had no choice but to recall the troops from around the world. And that had included Iraq. The very survival of the USA was in doubt and the country needed its troops to keep the disease from crossing into uninfected states. Militant Muslims around the globe declared the virus retribution from Allah for the sins of the Infidels. They danced in the streets, drunk on their joy and hate.

  Then the virus began to pop up all over the Middle East. Suddenly, no more dancing. It seemed Allah had a bone to pick with them, too. Then again, maybe Jr. had decided to send over a dose or two. After all, RS13's inception had originated with them in mind. It just seemed fair that they should join in the fun.

  After that, the virus couldn’t be contained.

  Except for the military, Congress had banned all air travel. Countries once loyal to the U.S. threatened any American citizen found crossing their borders with immediate and aggressive expulsion. Reports of vigilante death squads rounding up and executing Americans—even those who’d lived in their country for years—didn’t stop the desperate from trying
to escape the spreading red tide. And all the while, unnoticed and unchecked, infected rats and mice crossed the international borders with impunity.

  Then 56 days into the epidemic, all theCreeps could get on the radio was white noise. Static ruled the Delco, from dial to dial. Whether it was the military blocking the airwaves again, or of an even more ominous cause, they could only guess. Rusty had stubbornly stayed with it; traveling the dial slowly one way, then back the other, hour after hour, going through Bud’s stock of Eveready batteries, until only six remained on the shelves.