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The Saffron Malformation

Page 48

by Walker, Bryan


  “Oh no,” she said matter of factly, “He is. It’s not weird though,” she answered. “It’s…” she trailed off thoughtfully then continued, “something but weird isn’t the word.” She was looking at Leone and said, “Amazing maybe.”

  Rachel smiled at her.

  “So what’s it like?” Rain asked. “When they’re in there.”

  Rachel chuckled. “Well whoever is in here hasn’t been too active, just the once and I think maybe I imagined it. Like, I needed to feel it and so I did. Still,” she said and then it was her time to reflect. “Yeah, I think amazing is just about right.”

  Rachel and Rain talked a bit before lying down. All the excitement had been more than Rain was ready for and mentally Rachel was exhausted. She closed her eyes and saw the pavement of the parking lot, soaked in broodlings blood. She saw the anguish on the last ones face as she’d shoved her fingers into his wounds and a slight tremble passed through her. Rain’s arms came around her instinctively and as the world changed from brown to grey both women drifted and slept. Alas, their group had made it into the wastes.

  Flesh and Bot

  Quey explained the vast empty of the wastes and the sick little grasses and weeds that spread throughout it. “You’ve seen your last bit of green for sometime,” he said. He’d warned them also about the heat, so heavy outside that even an air conditioner on full blast could only hope to keep the temperature manageable as opposed to unbearable. Still, for everyone save Reggie, who had seen a waste before, it took its toll as it was impossible to imagine the reality of it.

  They’d fallen into a rhythm, as one does on the road, stopping for the bathroom and food at generally the same times and driving in shifts. It was afternoon and the convoy was stopped. Arnie's time at the wheel was over and when he was done pissing on some sickly looking brown and Viney plant he climbed into the back of the van and lay on the mattress.

  “I hate this heat,” Rain complained and he smiled at her. She was rummaging through her meager belongings. “Yup,” she said, a bit exasperated and tossed up her hands. “I’m officially out of clothes that haven’t been sweat through.”

  “It’s okay,” Arnie told her, crawling close and resting his head on her lap. “I love you anyway.”

  She gave him a bit of a smile. “Just don’t breathe too deep,” she warned him, “You might change your mind.”

  He lifted his head from her thigh and sniffed once. He looked up at her and sniffed again. She smiled a bit so he moved closer to her face sniffing wildly like a dog on a scent. When he moved closer she pushed on his shoulders trying to keep him away but that only made him persist until his face was buried in her neck and he was sniffing wildly. She laughed as his breath tickled her neck and slapped him gently on the back cackling the word, “Stop,” over and over. Finally he did, pulled back, and looked at her face trying to make his look like that of a monkey. A moment later he was on her again. She wrapped her legs around him and howled with laughter. It felt good to be able to laugh again without blinding pain.

  He settled snug against her and his hand gently brushed her side then settled just above her hip as his lips tasted her neck. Suddenly her laughter subsided and what she was left with was the sensuality of the moment. She tightened her thighs around him and ran her fingers down his back. Both their hearts beat a little faster as he kissed her again. His hand left her hip and found her subtle breast, firm and free under the thin fabric of her shirt and then his lips found her’s. They were blessed with fifteen more seconds before the front doors opened.

  He groaned and she whispered, “Soon,” just before they parted.

  Leone settled in behind the wheel of the van and Amber was beside him. She was wearing the same loose fitting summer dress as the day before but it still looked fresh and Rain envied that. The doors closed with a clank and Leone looked back over his shoulder.

  “Well what do we have here?” he asked with playful accusation.

  Amber smiled slyly, “Looks like the pair of thems up to no good,” she added.

  Leone shook his head slowly. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes can I?”

  “I could be done in five but if you made it ten I’d be grateful,” Arnie said.

  Leone groaned and turned around, “Geeze man,” he protested as Rain laughed. “I don’t need to know that,” the boy added as he turned the engine over.

  “I could get by on two or three,” Rain announced.

  Leone tossed up his hand as he started to roll after the moving truck and said, “Okay. Right, I get it. Minding my own business now.”

  Rain and Arnie settled against each other in the back of the van. His head rested on her breast, not much of a pillow she had to concede, but he seemed to enjoy it as he pressed himself to her and she could feel his cock throbbing against her leg. She enjoyed that, strange as it may seem. She supposed it was the idea that she could have that effect on someone. A man could string all manner of words into all sorts of pretty phrases but you knew which ones were truths when it came to his cock and the way he looked at you when you let him use it.

  She’d had a great many men meet her eyes while inside her and she always knew exactly where she stood and what was meant. Sometimes she saw the conquerer, a man just adding another notch to his belt. Sometimes she saw the animal, raw in passion and fleeting in heart—you love me now but when it’s over... Sometimes she saw the gratefulness of a beggar and she had a soft spot for them because she would be one of a very few women who allowed them the pleasures her body could offer. With them she often made it a point to try a little more, to make the experience something that might stay with them for a while as they might just have a long wait ahead for another. That brought her to another type, the rarest of them and the only one she tried for as hard if not harder than the beggar. Sometimes she saw the lover.

  Arnie stirred gripping her in his arms, pressing himself against her and she began to run her fingers through his hair. He moaned gently as she scratched his scalp. In a few minutes his cock would lose its vigor, she knew, eased by the gentle movements of her fingers.

  The lover, she had to admit, felt the best, which was probably why the sex was so intense. The conquerer could make you feel like a prize, the animal might make you feel sexy, the beggar made you feel like the only woman in the world, and of course depending on the individual you might get a touch of feeling powerful or fragile or vulnerable or nurturing.

  She had to admit, embarrassingly, that she really liked feeling a man lose himself inside her. She enjoyed seeing whomever he thought he was melt away as his primal nature took over. Near the end she always let them take her however they wanted, whether facing them or flipped around from the back. On top or sideways, there were so many possibilities and strangely enough it was the end she enjoyed the most—after her own pleasure of course.

  In essence it was the same, she’d feel them grow massive, throbbing as their thrusts turned vigorous and then they would touch her. Some men slid a hand across her ass whereas others gripped her breasts while some put a hand around her throat or held her down in some other fashion or any combination of those until finally they pressed deep and spasmed. She loved it, almost as much as her own orgasm. She loved that with nothing but her body she was capable of granting that amount of pleasure. When she looked at them there was satisfaction, gratitude, and joy. Pure simple joy.

  It felt good to be wanted and desired with that intensity. She liked to watch their faces, even if they flipped her over to take her from behind she would sometimes look over her shoulder at their final moments. Their eyes always found what they liked best, the curve of her hips, the roundness of her ass, or even the swell of her breasts. She liked the men who focused on her breasts since her’s were small and always a point of self-consciousness for her.

  Of course then there were the lovers…

  Arnie had fallen asleep on her chest, his breathing shallow and steady.

  The lovers might grab her breast, or caress her
thighs or ass. They might even grip her wrists or neck but their eyes always found her’s and looked deep. Logic says that love takes time and effort, but Rain knew for these souls the only time it took was in those last few moments and as for the effort, it existed mostly at the end of that final stroke.

  Arnie hadn’t looked into her eyes, and even now it was rare he did. At first she thought he would though, as he settled atop her and began to thrust, his face buried in her neck. She thought he’d rise up and meet her eyes when the end came close. Instead he pulled back and gripped her breasts, trying to bury his face in them, but hers are too small for that.

  Thinking about this brought her thoughts to what Leone had said to Quey when she was shot and bleeding in a motel parking lot. “You love her,” the boy had said, “I know you do.”

  It wasn’t far from the truth, she knew, as Quey was a lover. Not only that he was different from any she could recall. He had found her eyes in the last moments, as a handful had before, but he had done it in a way she didn’t think she’d experienced before. He’d done it from the bottom. Men often allowed her to ride them to their end, but not the first time. The first time they wanted to be in control, to be sure their orgasm was as powerful as it could be and with little regard for the one they were with. Approaching the end they might thrust too hard or holding something too firmly, or maybe something about the position was just uncomfortable, but there was nothing you could say, nothing to do but wait for them to finish because amidst those thralls there was no talking to them. That’s what had made her time with Quey so intense for her. He had surrendered all of that to her and if she was going to be truthful, she’d enjoyed that more than anything any man had ever done with her sexually. He had trusted her with his pleasure and in gratitude she had tried with him more than she had with anyone else, massaging him inside her with all the intensity her rolling hips and groin muscles could muster and as she did she’d grown excited again. Unaccustomed to multiple orgasms she craved the experience so she told him, “Don’t come. Don’t come yet.” She’d watched the effort straining his face as he struggled to oblige and that made her excitement grow to frenzy. She pinched his nipple and he grimaced but didn’t protest for he understood and the bit of pain gave him a few extra moments. Rolling her hips in a way that pet every nerve, she felt herself tighten as she slowly built toward ecstasy and that’s when he grabbed her hair and pulled her to him. He kissed her fiercely and met her eyes and gazed deeply as she thrust against him in long grinding strokes. She’d watched him fall in love with her, desiring nothing save to witness her pleasure and take whatever she would give. He kissed her again and his hands rushed over her skin, touching everything they could, caressing her from thigh to neck because that was what he wanted, not just her breasts or her ass or her thighs but her body, whole and absolute. The truth of that burned and finally spasmed in her loins and as she spasmed, gripping him like a vice, he pulled her face to his and watched her orgasm. Breathing frantically she rode him, her nerves still tingling as she tried to judge what he liked so she could bring him to climax with the greatest intensity. Finally she felt him explode inside her. His spasm and the way he watched her as his hips pushed up and burred his cock as deep as he could caused another lighter burst of pleasure to flutter through her and they fell silent together in the back of the cab of his truck.

  Leone had been right. He had loved her and probably would again if she asked. What Quey didn’t know was the rest. She was supposed to head back to the hotel that night with enough jewelry sold to carry them a spell. Instead she’d stayed the night. She’d left Leone alone so she could wake up with the moonshiner beside her. Matter of fact, since she was being honest with herself, if her sheet hadn’t beeped, if she hadn’t discovered Sticklan was on the move and heading toward them, she would have given him enough to follow her, had he been so inclined. In short, the truth she’d never say aloud wasn’t that she could have loved Quey in some other where and when. The truth was that for a moment she had.

  Arnie stirred and snuggled against her and it roused a bit of guilt that made her feel like a bad person. Thinking on the time she’d spent with someone else like this. And how could feelings like that be possible? Everything she thought she could have loved in Quey was completely opposite from everything she loved in Arnie. Quey was streetwise and strong in the world. He would protect her and always know what to do. In bed he would be rough when she wanted and how she wanted, and gentle when that was her wish. Arnie was the follower in the world, looking to her for every idea and when she had none his only one was to look to Quey. In bed, however, he was the animal, and she liked that too. He took her with vigorous need but he always gave her pleasure before taking his own.

  Of course there was the other stuff, and that’s what snapped her back to reality. Quey might stop all this nonsense for a spell, but he would never settle, not really. To know that all you had to do was look at Dusty and that’s how the lives of the restless always seemed to end. Being a roader might feel like an adventure for a time, but it was never stable and rarely long. Most roaders didn’t die of natural causes, unless you consider that bullets can kill you natural.

  Rain sighed. She’d made her choice and made it clearly and when she really thought about it she was glad she had. The rest didn’t matter. She didn’t regret her night with Quey, quite the opposite, she was grateful for it, but that didn’t mean it was right for her forever. Settled into a bit of peace of mind she finally slept.

  Rain woke to honking horns and shouts of excitement from the front of the van. Through the windshield she could see dusk had settled on the world, carrying it slowly down into night.

  “What’s going on?” Rain asked half asleep, propping herself up on one elbow while she wiped at her face with the opposite hand, as if sleep was a cobweb she could brush away.

  “We’re here,” Leone replied. Rain sat up strait, feeling a subtle ping in her side but it was barely a ghost of the pain she’d have felt even a few days ago, and Arnie stirred beside her.

  Quey had started the honking after he hung up with Ryla. He’d given her a call, letting her know that in a few kilometers they’d be pulling off the road and starting the five kilometer trek to where she was nestled on the hill by the river.

  “I will open the door,” she replied. “But you’ll have to be quick.”

  Quey was about to ask what she meant when he saw the compound in the distance. There was a city of Once Men a good kilometer and a half up river from the building. “How long have they been lurking?” he asked, staring out at them.

  “Since you left,” she replied simply. They don’t come close anymore. It’s been months since they violated a defense gate protocol.”

  Quey nodded slowly, “Reckon they learned that’s not a healthy course to be set on, violating the defense thing-a-ma-jiggers. “See you inside,” he said and tapped the screen.

  “She seems fun,” Reggie said, smiling a bit.

  Quey pointed at him, “Remember what I said.”

  The big man threw up his hands, “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice.”

  “It’s for your own good, truth be told.”

  “And you’re sure this is a good place to be?”

  Quey looked over at him and replied matter of factly, “Oh yeah, it’s fine.”

  Looking out at the building slowly growing larger beyond his windshield he recalled with sudden clarity his own apprehensions regarding the girl when first they’d met. As Reggie’s question rang through his mind a second time he recalled the way she nearly left him out to die.

  ‘But she hadn’t,’ he reminded himself. How much of that was sympathy, however, and how much her own desire to keep away from what she called, ‘your cities.’ Had she not let him in it would have been her job to chauffer Geo around the continent.

  He shook the thought as he saw the Once Men beginning to scramble to life—the time for second guessing was past. In their city of tents and carts near the water’s edge the Once Men
were pointing and grunting. He watched them, gray hairless animals made mad by the planet’s condition and for a moment he pondered how easily it could happen. He recalled how close he’d come, near a year past in this very spot, to joining them and the fear that came with that memory twisted his guts.

  He turned the truck right and looped around the building but his mind dwelled on dark thoughts. Not just those involving Once Men, but the planet as a whole and more over Blue Moon. He thought also of his mother and father and the life he might have had if it weren’t for the greed of the already wealthy. The knot in his gut gave way to a sudden and short burst of rage. It subsided quickly, however, or perhaps it merely focused because suddenly he couldn’t wait to see what answers the data he’d collected held.

  The massive door around the back of the compound stood open with Bowserbot to one side and Mechaganon to the other. They rolled into the garage where Quey saw Botler waiting for them. He rather liked that particular robot, he admitted to himself, but then wasn’t that its function?

  They stepped from the vehicles stiff from the road and caked in grime.

  “Welcome Quey and frienddds!” Botler said enthusiastically. “I am Botler and if you’ll follow me, rooms have been prepared.” The bot took a moment to analyze them and ran their condition through his set of logic gates, a process taking far less than a second. “Hot showers are also avvvailable,” he added.

  The promise of hot water and fresh sheets brought about a sudden boost in morale that erupted from the group in sounds of relief as Botler rolled toward the elevator. “Next stop,” he announced as the doors opened and the group piled in, “penthouse.” They stood close and rode the elevator up in silence.

  When the doors opened Quey saw the extravagantly painted walls of Ryla’s home. Botler rolled from the elevator and led them into the main room where the couch sat in the midst of the star and sky painted walls and ceiling. Quey had told them a bit about Ryla and her robots and though he’d mentioned her painting the group still gazed at the walls in awe.

 

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