by Ts Alan
“You do sound like a doctor—”
“Paramedic.”
“—and is dit dow ja standard issue in a medical kit?”
He corrected her, “Dit Da Jow. No, part of my personal kit.” He began to apply the liquid. “Of all the weapons I offered to teach you, you decided on one I barely knew.”
“I tried, but none felt right to me. The zai feels like an extension, part of me.”
J.D. knew exactly how she felt. He had been taught that the ideal weapon must come together perfectly with the fighter, and maximize the warrior’s impact, lethal range, and control. Nonetheless, she relies on the three-pronged weapon as a mainline of defense, and this needed to be corrected.
“When my attacks merely sting the enemy and I know my hands and feet are useless because they cannot inflict pain, then I must use a ‘substitute weapon’. My bastóns, my kukri… They are my substitute weapon.”
J.D. took her wrist and held up her hand, telling her, “Let these be your fangs first.”
She glared up at him, “I’m sorry I failed you.”
“Have you now? Is my approval that important?” he asked.
“I wanted to show you I was worthy of a promotion. I want the responsibility of team leader.”
“Did you try your best? Did you give all that your heart, soul and body could give?”
“Yes. And more,” she told him, in a pained tone.
“Then where is the failure in that? If you try and do not succeed, that is not failure. The failure is in not trying at all. Besides, no one here has ever beaten me.”
“But—I thought—but you promoted the others. And you said I would have to beat you to earn a team leader position.”
“Did I? Are you certain? Or did I say, ‘you have to prove yourself’?”
She thought about it for a moment, and then realized that proving herself was what he had told her. “You sound like my father,” Katie told him. “He always would say, ‘You only fail in life if you do not try to succeed.’”
“Your father was a wise man,” he told her. “You did well. Better than I expected, but not half as well as you could have if you hadn’t relied on the pig stickers.” J.D. changed the subject to dancing. “Do you still dance?”
She thought it an odd question; they were in the midst of a conversation about failure and out of nowhere he asked about dancing.
She replied warily. “On occasion. Why?”
“Your muscularity and strength are outstanding—”
“Are you making a pass at me?”
“—however your balance and focus are off. You may want to practice pirouette in retire—à la seconde—or even better fouetté rond de jambe en tournant. It will help improve these deficiencies.”
“Is that what you do?” she jokingly replied.
“Not anymore.”
She didn’t believe him. “You’re a dancer?”
“No. But I did take ballet lessons.”
She laughed out loud, “You?!” and then once again grimaced from pain.
“You seem to find great humor in that, too, don’t you? Well, that’s another secret you’re going to keep,” he sternly warned her. J.D. replaced the cap on the liniment bottle. He had completed applying the herbal remedy to the front portion of her body.
“I’m sorry. I just find it funny, you doing ballet.”
“So did the kids at elementary school. I was the only one in my school taking dance, and the only boy in my ballet class. It was fun learning dance with all the girls, but it wasn’t fun getting my ass kicked on a daily basis. I really hated my parents for that… As a child, my mother always wanted to be a ballerina, but her family was too poor to afford lessons. So, she never could pursue her dream. I guess me taking lessons was her way of living out her lost dreams.”
“And this lasted how long?”
“The lessons? I put an end to that early. I kind of persuaded my mom that if she stopped forcing me to take ballet I wouldn’t fight her on the piano lessons. Of course, I didn’t tell her I wanted to learn piano.”
“You’re quite a Renaissance man. Sensitive and sexy.”
“Katie, just stop. I’ve gotten all your subtle and not-so-subtle hints. I can’t give you what you are looking for.”
He had finally broached what she had wanted him to acknowledge for so long. She had been beginning to think that he had never noticed her or her hints of desire for him. Except his response was not what she had hoped for.
“How do you know what I am looking for?” she asked.
“There’s a reason I don’t get close to anyone. And—”
She cut him short. “So, you’re saying you’re not attracted to me?”
He was, and the transmute side of him desired her deeply. Although Katie had suffered a substantial beating from J.D., and, for the most part, had overcome the pain, he wasn’t sure she would be able endure the frenzied and often rigorous and painful acts of transmute coitus. But there was also no room in his heart for anything but a sex partner, for his heart ached with love lost, and his loss consumed him, so he declined.
“What I was about to say,” he spoke, with slight irritation having been interrupted, “is that everyone I’ve loved or cared about has died or left—my friends, my dog, Marisol, then Luci—men under my command, who trusted me with their lives—dead! There’s nothing left inside me. Do you understand?”
She wasn’t going to make his rejection of her easy on him. “Don’t get all mushy on me. I’m not looking for a ring, I’m just looking for a lay.” She forced herself to rise and put her arms around his neck and gave him a deep, erotic tongue kiss.
J.D. didn’t immediately spurn her advance. The taste of her tongue inside his mouth aroused him. He put his mouth to her neck, sniffed and then pressed himself closer, nuzzling his mouth under her ear and repeatedly kissed her. Katie breathlessly moaned. She could feel herself getting moist. J.D. could sense her arousal and it stirred him. He dug his talons into her back. She winced, more out of pain than pleasure. He knew under her present condition he could cause her severe bodily damage. He pushed her away and told her, “No. This can’t be. I’ll break you.”
He took her hand and placed the bottle of liniment in it. “I think it best you finish the other areas. I need to attend to military matters.”
As he departed he paused at the doorway and drew a long breath. Raising his left arm, he placed his hand on the doorframe and spoke, but did not turn to her as he did.
“Consider yourself on temporary medical leave. Report to Major Alexander at 0900 tomorrow for your new assignment. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, in a reserved tone, regretting making her feelings known to him.
“Good day, Sergeant,” he spoke as he walked into the hall.
A smile came to O’Hanlon’s face. She had gotten half of what she desired. She had been promoted.
***
J.D. returned to his makeshift dojo and to his martial arts, hoping that the intense workout that he was intending would take his mind off of Katie O’Hanlon, but it did not. Her scent, her tongue and the feel of her soft flesh was something he could not shake.
As the day waned and darkness fell on the city, his desire for her only intensified. He wanted her, but he feared in her weakened condition she could not endure his intense thirst for carnal pleasures, and was unsure that he could temper his aggressive passion to ensure he would not do her harm. His workout had not been a diversion or a release of his desire for her, so he set out on a hunting expedition, hoping the tracking down and eliminating more of Stone’s men would lessen his lust for her.
***
The thoughts of J.D.’s muscular form, the tattoos that adorned him, and the sensation of his tongue inside her mouth made her moist and wanting. Katie knew that he was not normal in many aspects of his physiology bec
ause of his mutation, but the brief exchange of bodily contact proved to her that he was still a man that had sexual needs, and she wanted him inside fulfilling her needs as well as his.
It had been a long time since Katie had had a man sexually gratify her. She had a boyfriend before she moved to New York and he was attentive to her needs, though he had been as inexperienced in lovemaking as she at that time. She had been dating an older boy for nearly a month before the plague, and she had every intention of consummating the relationship on their eighth date, but the end of civilization put an end to her getting laid. She masturbated twice hoping that the self-pleasure would relieve her sexual frustration, but her orgasms just aroused her libido even more.
***
It had not been a productive night. He had not come across any enemy patrols nor was he any closer at finding Stone’s newest basecamp. After showering and dressing into a simple black cotton Kung Fu uniform and matching pair of Kung Fu shoes, he walked the floor of the armory hall. It was after 1:00 a.m., and most civilians were sleeping, though a few remained awake in whispered conversation or reading by candlelight. He stopped briefly to check on his two sentries before heading to the upper floors where the private rooms were located. Katie was still heavy in his thoughts. He decided to visit her under the guise of seeing how she was feeling. If she still wanted him, he would oblige her. He needed to get laid, too.
***
A light rapping came to her door. She knew that the only person that would come calling this late would be J.D., and she had prepared in hopes he would change his mind. She turned on the small lamp that sat on the nightstand and replied, “Come in.”
As he closed the door behind him he said, “I know it’s late but I wanted to see how you were doing.”
He moved across the room and sat on the bed next to her. For a moment, they looked at one another both knowing the real reason why he had come to her room. Katie broke the silence.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked. “Take me,” she told him and pulled back her bed covers to exposure her naked body.
J.D. did not refuse the invitation. All he said was, “Let me know if I get too rough.”
She gasped with equal parts discomfort and pleasure the first time he penetrated her. She was not sure if he was well endowed because of his mutation or that he was normal and that the only man she ever previously had sex with was under endowed.
He took her forcefully three times, digging his talons into her and thrusting his manhood deep into her with uninhibited vigor. She returned the pain in kind by biting him hard on his neck, shoulders and chest, and it heightened his pleasure. After his third rapid orgasm his ferocity seemed to diminish and was replaced by less wild but still impassioned intercourse. He allowed her to repeatedly quench her needs for a while, and then they began an exploration of one another’s bodies. They continued well after dawn satisfying one another.
When their sexual tryst was over, she had felt pleasure in ways that she had never experienced. She was even more exhausted and in discomfort than she had been from her martial arts beating, but she was sexually gratified.
When it was time for J.D. to leave, there were no thank-yous or sentiment between them. He rose and dressed in front of her, as she lay naked upon the bed watching him. He sat back down and then scooped her up in his arms and gave her a passionate kiss, and then gently laid her back down and departed.
J.D. felt more relaxed and calm of mind than he had in a long time. Katie O’Hanlon was just what he had needed, but he knew a repeat of their time together would be unlikely. He had other plans for her.
8
Commander! My Commander!
Paul Wiese stood up from his chair and rapped lightly on the commander’s door. Paul was now a warrant officer. Once having been distrusted by J.D., he went from civilian to valued soldier—being put in charge of all base personnel recruitment and oversight along with being J.D.’s personal assistant—all because of one pivotal moment that earned his unquestionable trust.
***
J.D. had not always trusted this man as much as he did now. J.D. was leery about him when he first came to the armory begging for sanctuary. He had been a member of Stone’s gang—but not just any member. He was part of Stone’s crew that had captured Ryan and tied him to a tree at Astor Place. Ryan had been sick then, ill with shingles, but Stone’s gang believed he had been infected with the mutant plague and were intent on killing him. J.D. and his former comrades saved Ryan, and let Stone’s men leave unharmed, but with a stern warning to stay out of their territory.
When Paul showed up at the armory the night before the old team members were to depart to England, J.D. thought it highly suspicious. However, circumstances and fates change and with Paul helping Ryan rescue J.D. at the pier, and with Ryan and Doctor France as Paul’s champions, J.D. granted Paul’s request for asylum.
Asylum had not been the only reason Paul had come to the armory seeking shelter. It was his conscience and morality that brought him to J.D.’s doorstep. Having been with Stone—for a brief period, though J.D. doubted the validity to Paul’s claim—he knew the brutality Stone inflicted on those who did not obey and worship him. Worse was that he knew the rumors of what Edward Stone was doing to his young captives were true.
An early dawn raid had been planned and though J.D. suspected a trap, he and Ryan had no choice but to go. They took Paul with him. J.D. warned the man if it were a ruse he’d make sure he was the first to get a bullet. When they arrived at where Paul said he and the others had made their base, Stone’s men had gone. They rushed back to the armory; J.D. believing the location had been used as a ruse to lure them away to give Stone an easy opportunity at seizing their fortress. An attack never came, and J.D. realized, after some convincing from Ryan, that Paul had been sincere. However, a good intention, no matter how noble, doesn’t automatically award you with trust. J.D. was still unsure of where Paul’s loyalties lie. He was further unconvinced at the tale Paul spun of his escape from Stone’s grip. It was just too unbelievable.
Except this all changed in mid-November. Doctor France was liberal with wanting anyone who showed up at the gates to be given sanctuary. In his eyes everyone should be given aid and comfort, even those who appeared dubious. J.D. had never known France to be generous or compassionate, which struck J.D. as suspicious, but he could not determine Frances’ endgame and let him have his way within reason.
There had been a screening process in place, but more often than not, and almost always when J.D. was away from the armory, the screening process was bypassed and the refugees rushed into the armory’s medical facility for immediate care, whether the refugees were in distress or not, before they could be thoroughly checked for weapons or contraband.
Disregarding the screening process was dangerous and J.D. knew eventually Doctor Frances’ blatant disregard for the safety of the armory would come back to bite them all in the ass.
A group of refugees arrived at the gate one early afternoon. J.D. had been gone for a day; no one knew where and no one questioned why. James and Ryan were in a meeting with John and Peter Dunne. Jonas was on sentry duty on the roof and Peter Schumacher, Sr. was in the communications room. When word of new arrivals was passed by radio from Jonas to Schumacher and then relayed over intercom to James and Ryan, Richard France immediately went to the main armory doors to wait for James and/or Ryan. If it had been up to France he would have immediately gone to the perimeter gate, opened it, and allowed the refugees entry. However, Doctor France was no longer allowed to have the keys to the compound gates. Only J.D., Ryan, and James had the authority and the ability to open the gates, and this completely annoyed the doctor. To him it was an impediment on his ability to efficiently and rapidly respond to the medical needs of any refugee who sought help.
Ryan responded to the call and under guard brought the five refugees into the compound. One survivor appeared to be very il
l, and before Ryan and his men had an opportunity to search the man, Doctor France tried to whisk him away. Ryan ordered France to desist and begrudgingly France acquiesced, though he protested greatly at what he described as heavy-handedness in the treatment of the ill. Upon inspection they discovered a large hunting knife concealed under the man’s shirt, the man claiming it was for self-protection. Ryan confiscated the weapon.
The following day the man seemed to make a miraculous recovery, France taking the credit for his superior medical treatment. The thin, wiry individual with the dirty blonde-hair was released and allowed to join the general population in the drill hall.
It was not unusual for Paul to be in the drill hall most days for he had been given the task of doing initial interviews with new arrivals to see what kind of useful skills they might have, and then reporting his findings to Ryan. J.D. had allowed Paul the luxury of his own room, since he did aid Ryan in his rescue. However, there had been one stipulation to the amenity. Since Paul was civilian—a status Paul wished to change but J.D. had refused—and was being allowed a luxury that was reserved for base personnel, Paul would have to keep the upper floors, including the hospital, clean, if he wished to keep his private quarters—bathrooms too.
Nonetheless interviewing was not what brought Paul down to the civilian population that evening; it was the children. There had been a few children amongst the refugees and Paul had decided just because the world had ended that it was no reason for education to end. Three evenings a week, after completing his daily duty assignments, and out of his love for teaching, he held a reading and spelling class for the children.
As he walked through the drill hall he caught a glimpse of a man looking at him. At first he thought nothing of it as he passed the nervous man and went with books in hand to his destination. However, as he conducted his reading class he noticed the man was still watching him, and then he realized he couldn’t recall interviewing him. When Paul looked toward the man, the man would suddenly avert his eyes from Paul’s direction. It happened three times and Paul had an uneasy feeling that the man was studying him, but for what reason Paul did not know. When reading and spelling time were over Paul decided he was going to get a proper look at the fellow who was placing so much focus on him.