The World's End Series Book One: Dymond's World

by CW Crowe

  He put the pan on the fire and thought of the bottle in his pocket. He took it out and gauged that it was over two thirds full. He started to take a drink, but instead he moved slowly towards her and offered the bottle with his arm fully outstretched.

  Before she could react, he withdrew his arm slightly. "How old are you?" He didn't want to get into trouble by giving liquor to a minor. As soon as he thought that, he smiled to himself at his naïveté - a sip of liquor was probably one of the mildest things this girl had done. He thought of that biker, Ax, and wondered what had brought her to this place in her life.

  This time, she answered without any hesitation, "I'm eighteen."

  In fact, she did look at least that old. In some ways she looked a lot older - it was her eyes, mostly. Eighteen was too young to legally have liquor, but her hand was still in the air, reaching for the bottle. To heck with it.

  He offered her the bottle and she took it. She took a tiny sip and handled it back.

  He continued his preparations. The fillets were pretty small. "When's the last time you ate?"

  Now she was obviously studying her memory. "Yesterday. They all got drunk and passed out. I found some chips and a candy bar. They never noticed."

  Fallon had lived through some lean times, but he always kept a good supply of canned goods and staples like flour and sugar and salt in the Airstream. When he was broke and payday wasn't until next week, he'd always managed to get by without being truly hungry. The feeling that he was better off than one of his fellow human beings was a strange one to him.

  He went inside and brought out a can of baked beans and put them on to warm. They exchanged the bottle a few more times until the sound of sirens in the distance brought her quickly to her feet. She had alarm on her face.

  "Don't worry. I would guess the hiker that owns the Escort returned from his walk around the lake and found that fat bastard lying there in the parking lot. He probably called 911. The cops will take care of things; maybe take your boyfriend to the hospital." Fallon had a vision of the fat turd having to undergo some type of dick surgery. He hoped it hurt.

  "They don't know this place is here - I guess few people do."

  She mumbled something, but he couldn't hear. He asked her to repeat and she said, "Mister, he's not my boyfriend." She resumed squatting.

  ***

  When the food was ready, Fallon divided it equally on two chipped plates of the four he had left. He'd started years ago with a brand new set of eight complete place settings, but his china was a lot like his life - it had dwindled over the years; cracking and chipping and finally breaking so that many of the original pieces had been discarded.

  He took both plates and sat on the ground about six feet away from her. He handed her one of the plates and then put the bottle midway between them. It was about one third full.

  She looked at the food very closely as if she was trying to decide if it was real. She closed her eyes and Fallon wondered if she was offering thanks. He checked, but God's ledge was empty so He wouldn't hear even if she was praying.

  If it was a prayer, it didn't last long. She put a full fork of beans in her mouth and seemed to start swallowing almost before she had time to chew. She did it again and then she noticed him watching. For the first time ever, she smiled at him. It was just a little one, just a hint, but it was there. "I guess I forgot my manners," she said.

  They ate in silence and finished the bottle. The late afternoon sun deserted them and the twilight was augmented by the red coals in the stone grill. In the forest, they could hear the sounds of insects calling to each other.

  ***

  Just as Fallon finished eating, his phone chirped to indicate he had a text. It was an old style flip phone that Patti had given him from the dollar store. He figured it showed up on some inventory list as "shrinkage" meaning it had been shoplifted. But he knew that Patti gave it to him so she could call him into work when one of the other employees didn't manage to drag themselves in on time. She also gave him a sixty minute calling card every month, but he guessed that was over now - he'd have to buy his own.

  The message was from a car dealer. They wanted him to drive a car to York tomorrow and then drive another one back. That was a little town west of Philly, a bit over three hours away. They would pay him a hundred bucks for the job because it was last minute, but the car had to be there before 10 a.m. He'd have to get an early start.

  He thumbed his agreement and pressed the green "Send" button. Things were looking up.

  He looked at the peeing girl. She was studying him, wondering what the message was all about. She looked wary.

  "It's good news. I've got a job for tomorrow, but I have to leave early - like before dawn. I'm driving a car across the state. I can drop you off somewhere in Pittsburgh or along the way, I guess. Where do you want me to take you?"

  He was strictly prohibited from having a passenger in the cars, but he'd just drop the girl somewhere safe and be off. No one would know.

  She looked worried. "Mister, can't I say with you?"

  He hadn't expected this. "Do you have relatives nearby? Parents? Friends?"

  "No Mister, I don't." Her voice had a note of sadness in it, of shame.

  Fallon knew how it felt to be truly alone; to have no one. He also knew how it hurt to admit it.

  She crawled on all fours over to him. "Don't make me go, Mister."

  She reached between his legs and started to massage him. He took her hand and gently pushed it away.

  "It's okay, Mister. There's no problem." She was slurring her words.

  Fallon stood up and offered his hand to help her. She took it. "I'm not thinking straight right now and you aren't either. I guess you can ride with me tomorrow and we'll figure out what to do."

  ***

  He went into the Airstream and started to wash the dishes. He saw her peek inside from the corner of his eye. Cautiously, she entered. He'd been nice to her, but that was on the outside where she could run if she had to. This little house would be harder to escape from if he turned out to be some type of maniac. It paid to be careful with men you didn't know - she had learned that lesson well over the last few years.

  Once she was fully inside, she looked over the layout. It only took a second because the place was so small. There was a couch that ran the full width of the trailer across the back. In front of her was another couch set at a ninety degree angle to the first. To her left she saw the man working in a tiny kitchen. It had a sink and a stove and a couple of cabinets. There was a door as well. It was partially open. She could see a toilet and what looked like a shower. Suddenly, she felt dirty. She sat on the couch directly across from the entrance.

  He looked over at her, "What's your name?"

  She started to tell him it was Rhonda or Amelia or some of the other names she gave johns, but she told him the truth, "It's Dymond."

  "Diamond? Like the ring?"

  "Sounds like it, but it's spelled with a "Y" instead of an "IA."

  "So, do people call you Dy?"

  She shook her head in resignation. "Yeah, they do." Men also called her Princess and Lady Dy and Duchess. Ax called her "your fucking highness."

  She began to think he was actually harmless. "Mister, what's your name?"

  "It's Fallon."

  "Fallon? But that's a . . ."

  He cut her off, "Girl's name. I know. However, my mother didn't know. She just thought it sounded Irish. She loved everything about Ireland even though she never went there in her whole life."

  She wanted to ask if his mother was still alive, but she stopped herself. Why did she care?

  "Dy, I'm going to make a cup of coffee. I'm a little light headed. You want one?"

  Ever since she'd been with the bikers, they kept all the booze to themselves. She was feeling the few ounces she'd had tonight. "It’s been a while, but sure, if it's okay, I mean."

  "I've got to boil some water. It'll take a few minutes."

  She looked around more c
arefully. There were no strange pictures on the walls, no knives or other weapons lying around. No handcuffs. The place looked kind of run down, but it was neat with everything in its place. She relaxed and felt she was probably safe here with him. Certainly safer than if she'd been back with Ax.

  "Mister, while you're doing that, can I take a shower? I haven't had one in a few days."

  He looked quickly in the bathroom and then at her. "There's a clean towel on the hanger. Go ahead. It's small though."

  She pulled off her boots and wiggled her toes. When she rose, her balance wavered for a second. The buzz from the liquor felt good.

  There was barely room from her to get undressed in the little bathroom. She guessed he did it before he entered. She turned on the water and first washed her skirt and top. They were filthy.

  She put them on the rack to dry and then entered the little glass enclosed shower stall. The water felt cool and good. She used his soap - he didn't seem like he'd mind. There was a bottle of Old Spice shampoo on the ledge. She used it on her hair.

  She got done quickly so as not to waste his water and wrapped the towel around her. It wasn't quite big enough, but she didn't care. She was clean and well fed and had a little buzz on. She felt better than she had in a long time. She stepped out of the bathroom.

  ***

  Fallon felt his breath catch when he saw her. For the first time, he realized just how skinny she was. He wondered if she was just naturally that way, or if she was malnourished.

  She held the towel so that it covered her breasts and hung down from there. He saw a large bruise on her side. She saw him looking at it. "Ax did that. Hit me with a stick. It's about healed now."

  He passed her and went to open the sliding drawer below the back couch. He took out a long sleeved green shirt and handed it to her. "Put this on," he said.

  She nodded and took the shirt. With no hesitation or warning, she dropped the towel and started to put it on. Her nakedness almost startled him. Her hip bones were prominent, her crotch not shaved for some time, but her breasts were full and round. Her nipples protruded. She was the first naked woman who had ever been in the Airstream with him.

  "For God's sake, Dy, don't just parade around in the nude."

  "I don't mind, Mister," she said.

  "Well, I mind. It's just not right." Patti had always promised "to show him the goods" and to "screw his balls off" in the back room of the dollar store, but that was just talk. The few women he knew would never show themselves to strangers like this; he knew they would feel degraded.

  "You're not gay or anything are you?" she asked as she buttoned a couple of the shirt’s buttons.

  So, if you tried to help someone without fucking them, you were gay. His voice was icy, "No, I'm not. You're at least half drunk; I'm not sure you know what you are doing."

  She must have sensed that he didn't appreciate that comment. They sat side by side on the couch with their coffee. "I'm sorry, Mister," she said quietly.

  They drank in silence until their cups were empty. Fallon took them to the kitchen and washed them. When he returned, she was sitting cross legged on the couch.

  "I need to get some sleep. If you're going with me, you do too." He set the wake up time on his phone. Even cheap phones had an alarm clock.

  Normally, he would pull both couches together so they made a regular full sized bed, but tonight he handed her a blanket and took one for himself. He turned off the lights and sat on the other couch. He took off his pants and lay down. He could feel her watching him.

  Just before he dropped off, he looked up at God. Humpty Dumpty was sitting on his ledge, but he wasn't pointing and laughing. His normally round eyes and mouth were all slits.

  To Living Like Men

  Being the future Richest Man in the World meant that Jason was almost always busy. There were constant phone calls, texts and meetings - all designed to help him decide which piece to move on his world-sized chessboard. For years, his total focus had been on the development of his battery technology, now it had shifted to the development of his fortune. He worked just as hard today as he did back at his lab.

  But even someone like him could have his plans interrupted by events. The bombing and the closing of all the airports had made it impossible for him to get back to his office. Just as bad, the Internet had become slow and unreliable as so many people around the world were watching events unfold via news websites. The traffic volume had increased tenfold in the last week and, on top of that, a group of hackers had managed to take two of the Tier One networks offline. These networks, known as the Internet Backbone, handled traffic for many millions of users. Losing two of them made a measurable difference in connection speed and quality for just about the entire world. Even the cell networks were affected - at best, one in five calls got through and then the connection was likely to be dropped without notice.

  Being isolated from his growing empire was bad enough, but it was obvious the world was starting to spin out of control and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. He'd barely seen Regina Martin for the last three days and no one else in her company "headquarters" would talk to him. They would make small talk, but if he asked any meaningful question he was told he had to "talk to Regina." Plus, it seemed that the entire group of fifty or more employees were tremendously busy - most seemed to not have any time to talk. When he'd asked one harried girl why everyone was able to be constantly on the phone, she told him that they were talking via dedicated lines to their other facilities.

  Late on his third day there, he went outside to once again try to hire a jet to take him home. He had a list of companies who offered such charter services, but on his first try, he didn't get through to any of them.

  He sat on a bench and looked at the desert vista. In the distance, jagged mountains rose. There were white puffy clouds that seemed to be below their peaks. The desert floor was beautiful in a wasteland kind of way.

  The offices of R. Martin were low slung red brick. Even though the entire structure was only one story tall, it was quite big inside because it seemed to meander here and there. It was as if it was expanded more than once with a new portion shooting out of the old. He was staying in the part that contained suites for the VIPs who came to buy security in an insecure world. When he left with Regina the other day, there had been five of his fellow one percenters. They must have all signed up and left, because he was now the only guest here.

  Across the desert were other buildings. They looked more high tech with cutting edge architecture, courtyards, and large open green spaces. They rose for six or eight stories from the desert floor. Probably they housed high tech companies.

  As Jason looked back, he saw Regina walking towards him. She was wearing a skirt today and heels. He could hear her click as she walked.

  She sat beside him on the bench. "Sorry to leave you on your own this way, Jason. It's been kind of hectic. We had a close call."

  "Who did?"

  "Us. The world. That bombing threatened to make everything spiral out of control."

  He didn't understand exactly what she was talking about, but she seemed relieved. He asked, "And now? You think things will get better?"

  "Yeah they will. For a while at least. Tomorrow, the airports will reopen with bag check-in done at every Post Office. FedEx and UPS will come by and pick up the bags for transfer to the airport. The bags will be checked for bombs at the airport and then loaded.

  "The stock market will start to recover as well. The Federal Reserve will pump in $20 billion to start, but they'll keep it going until stock prices rebound. The President will announce an extensive bombing campaign against the group who planted the bomb in Chicago. The video of vehicles and buildings being destroyed over in that shithole will help the public's confidence. The FBI will arrest people in several cities for providing assistance to terrorists."

  He turned and faced her directly. "How in the world could you possibly know such things? It's like that video you had in the coffee s
hop. I . . ."

  She cut him off. "I tell you about it later. Right now, I'm horny. Let's go."

  She rose and walked off. He followed.

  ***

  She lay naked on the bed, her hands joined above her head and legs spread apart. She let him take off his shirt, but that was all. "Ask permission before you do anything," she said.

  It sounded like an order. "Can I rub your calves?"

  "Yes, you can. I think I'll like that."

  He did. They were firm, but smooth. They smelled slightly like flowers. He kneaded them down to her ankles.

  "Can I massage your thighs?"

  "Go ahead. I'm starting to get really turned on."

  He put one hand on the inside of each thigh and moved them, palms down, from her knees to just below her crotch. He did it again in the opposite direction.

  'God, that feels good. Don't stop." She spread her legs farther apart.

  He was starting to breathe heavily. "Can I kiss your nipples?"

  "Yes," her voice was quiet. Her eyes closed.

  She moaned softly at the touch of his lips and for the next hour, she answered each of his questions the same way.

  ***

  "I don't want you to think I do this with every billionaire who comes here."

  They were sitting up in bed, recovering. She pulled her hair back and secured it with a clip from the night stand. "I've always been like this - I'll go months without a man and then, boom - something sets me off and I can't get enough. Don't worry though; it'll wear off in a while."

  He grinned at her honesty. Most women were more reserved, at least in their talk about sex. Her forthrightness in bed and in their other interactions were such a turn on. He remembered the pain in his shoulder and it caused a faint resurgence of desire. He reached for her.

  "Not now. As you have seen, things are more than a little hectic around here. I really shouldn't have been away this long, but I couldn't help myself. I've been thinking of getting in bed with you for the last two days.

  "Anyway, play time is over." She started to dress. "On the way back here, you asked about our plan and what it would cost you. Are you ready to pay?"