SPECIAL THANKS
As is customary, I would like to thank certain individuals for helping to make this book a reality. Writing this book came off of the back of the excitement and enthusiasm I had writing the first book.
Publishing that book was a series of challenges, notably of which was self-confidence, it being the first book I would ever publish.
The outcome was fantastic, I couldn't ask for more and the support from family and friends was also insurmountable.
I can tell you that nothing quite beats holding your own book in your hands and instead of telling people what I'm working on, I simply show them.
With that said, I want to once again thank the members of my family for supporting my last book and spreading the word, they know who they are.
I want to thank my friends, who have cameoed in this book, they too will know who they are.
I'd like to thank my girlfriend who has been a pillar of support in both writing this and in our personal lives.
Without you all, this book and those to follow wouldn't be possible.
Last but by no means least, a big thank you to you, the reader for reading this for the first time, I hope you enjoy.
CHAPTER 1 - RACHEL
8:21am - 5 Days until outbreak
. . .
“There are three sorts of people; those who are alive, those who are dead, and those who are at sea”
― Old Capstan Chantey
. . .
Rachel Rosemary Heart was a somewhat confident 25 year old with the life experiences to rival and perhaps even surpass that of generations preceding her.
The years were the furthest thing from a seamless transition, with each bringing about a torrent of new obstacles and in doing so, moulding her into a more awakened, headstrong and forthright member of society, battle worn from the ongoing war that was life in itself and she was just another pawn of the conflict, or that was at least the way she felt sometimes.
Social justice warrior, often considered a slant in her direction by those with the inability to comprehend complexities beyond their own shoes, was a badge she wore proudly, strongly campaigning for female, LGBTQIA, minority and animal rights. When it wasn't about the living, it was about that which made living possible, the protection and preservation of the very world she lived on.
You could possess all the intellect in the world and still be so clueless, the 20:20 clarity of vision and still be blind as a bat. Empathy was, is and forever would be the core component of human sustainability, so why were so few capable of it?
It shouldn't have come as a surprise; many were all too ready to chastise concepts new to them. It was easier to propagate a doctrine of Marxism than to adopt something that directly contradicted the beliefs and values they held to their bosom so tightly, labelling left-wing ideals taboo, mental defects, liberal terrorism, the fall of civil society and just about every other omen of the impending apocalypse.
Well, if empathy was a mental defect, she was perfectly content with being locked away.
Admittedly, Rachel hadn’t always been this forthcoming and certified in what she stood for, but compared to the person she once was, living everyday under the thumb of her heavily conservative parents, who in wanting the best for her, couldn’t quite comprehend just how much they were actually smothering her, the new Rachel might as well be a completely different person altogether.
Having grown up in Dulwich, London as a single child to not necessarily rich, but without any doubt comfortable parents, Rachel had only ever known privilege; she lived it, breathed it, drank it and ate it, she knew nothing else. The moment she was even remotely old enough, she was sent off to Wycombe Abbey School, an all girls boarding school, to which she initially loathed, being it far from all her creature comforts, her friends and her peaceful way of life, but slowly and surely she developed a liking for it, becoming her soul searching muse and the humble beginnings of her self-discovery, including - but not limited to - her sexuality.
To this day she still wouldn’t be able to with any degree of certainty, pinpoint exactly when her sexual awakening and affinity towards girls began. She could certainly remember completely innocent kissing and touching, but that was all supposed to be experimental, for boys and whatnot, or at least she had convinced herself of that. Somewhere along the lines she, unlike the others, developed a liking for it, leading to more manufactured excuses just to be intimate with the girls she had developed a favouritism towards, then a depressing spiral of self esteem issues, self loathing and confusion when it became clear that her new found obsession wasn't exactly the norm and the other girls had grown less interested in experimenting and more in actually attempting to meet boys, heartbreakingly those she liked the most.
Even after graduating, returning home and setting off for Warwick University, she was still trying to convince herself that it was all a phase and that her sexual compass would eventually reconfigure itself, so to speak.
Consequently, she briefly dated and lost her virginity to a guy, trying her utmost to ‘act straight’. It wasn't her finest moment, granted, but she'd be damned if it didn't help confirm her subconscious feelings.
It was in the second year she met Sadina, a Moroccan goddess studying law with hopes of becoming a barrister, the woman who brought her out, the woman who cracked the shell.
They were roommates and initially Rachel knew nothing of Sadina’s sexuality. Sadina was the close friend of a friend Rachel had spent the first year in halls with.
Sadina was everything a person could be, funny, smart, outgoing, confident and simply, unashamedly breathtaking, a distracting Cola bottle figure, eyes that were so deep they could drown a person, luscious lips that if Rachel gazed upon too much, she'd find to be dizzying with provocation, lightly tanned skin, incredible legs, butt and boobs.
God, she was enough to make the heart flutter and if Rachel before meeting Sadina was at the very least doing a semi-decent job of concealing her love for girls, cracks in her little ploy were beginning to show and she was having a mountain of a challenge filling them in again.
Sadina had a tattoo, no secret with the tight fitted, low cut, back revealing dresses she liked to wear with stilettos, running down her back from her neck, stopping God only knew where and Rachel, giving into her perversions just a little, wanted to know so badly.
When not on campus, she’d often wear her nose and tongue stud and Rachel didn’t even know she had a fetish for all of these until she met her.
Now, the first days of knowing Sadina were filled with curiosity, a curiosity that developed into a ridiculous crush, and could Rachel really be blamed? Whether she already suspected Rachel liked her or not, Sadina would walk around the house in nothing but a towel or bra and panties, feeling completely at ease in her presence, far too at ease!
Sadina's lax attitude towards modesty around the house made her uncomfortable, not in any way because she had any obligation to dress a certain way or God forbid, cover up, but because the guilt of not revealing how she felt towards other females and seemingly stringing Sadina along under false pretences, weighed heavy on her heart.
In comparison to Sadina’s outgoing, spriteful and bodacious nature, Rachel had always been more of a reserved personality, far from shy, but equally from the boisterous character Sadina was. Their ideas of a typical ideal night couldn’t be further apart from one another in the early days, Rachel swaying more towards a social night in with a bottle of beer playing a trivia card game, Sadina towards a drunken party session excursion that more than often included being the center of attention, showing off her dance
moves; disclaimer, she couldn't dance for shit, her only shortcoming.
It wasn’t until that one fateful night when Sadina pressured Rachel to tag along, that everything in Rachel’s world began to take on new meaning, and perspective became the focal point of everything in her life.
The play was simple enough, Sadina wanted another female companion, since their mutual friend, Sadina's usual partner-in-crime, had returned home for the week to Daventry, a quaint little town off the grid that Rachel knew next to nothing about. It seemed reasonable enough a request and she didn't really have to explain why, the only issue was that nightclubs just weren't really Rachel's thing.
Time alone with the most beautiful person Rachel had ever encountered, it should have been a blessing in disguise, so what was the lump in her throat?
After some convincing and Sadina offering to give her a makeover before their big night so that she could, as Sadina had so modestly put it, get some dick action tonight, Rachel reluctantly agreed and the night started off like any other ordinary night out, some pre-drinking to warm up and boost her confidence.
She slipped into the only semi-decent dress she had at her disposal and there stood Sadina at her door shortly afterwards with a scowling expression etched upon her face and only half prepared, yet more than stunning enough to have unearthed some of Rachel’s insecurities; that aside, it was fair to say that Rachel’s choice of attire substantially offended her, because she wasted no time in berating it and comparing it to something her grandmother would wear. Just as suddenly as she had appeared, she was off again, returning with one of her dresses and a pair of her ridiculous stilettos, a skin-tight purple tube dress and very uncomfortable looking black stilettos, she might add.
Nothing could be further removed from Rachel's personality, that itty bitty skirt would barely cover her arse!
She called Sadina's bluff and instantly regretted that, because fifteen minutes later she had by some act of witchcraft, found herself wearing it, with Sadina hands, albeit very welcome, violating her personal space, spinning her around, fiddling with her hair, trying to make something of it, tugging at her dress to get it save her some degree of dignity, applying much heavier makeup to her face than she had ever dared to try herself.
Needless to say, by the time Sadina was finished with her, she barely recognized her reflection. This was so not her style, she felt exposed and she looked absurd. The only thing preventing her from taking it all off again was Sadina's insistence she give it a go for the night and see how she felt about it afterwards. There was something to be said about her ability to charm, she had the ability to wrap anyone around her little finger and Rachel was most definitely wrapped.
Sadina donned a fiery red attention grabbing tight dress and the stilettos to boot, she certainly wasn’t messing about. Her legs in those heels, there were simply no words.
Before they could leave to go anywhere, Sadina wanted to take selfies together, so Rachel obliged, to be entirely honest, that wasn’t in her nature either, but by that point, it seemed miniscule.
Unlike herself, Sadina was made for the camera, each snap capturing a single moment of her beauty like a prized portrait. She possessed the camera, dominated and ensnared it, commanding its attention wherever she might be and Rachel found enjoyment in being a part of that experience, both the privilege of being included in her photos and being granted the responsibility of taking them.
Rachel would have been quite content with just this being the rest of the night, Sadina's photographer, but alas, simple pleasures do not the luxury of time have and they had to depart.
The club was exactly the sort she hated, pretentious, packed, sweaty, nobody dancing - god forbid they ruin their shoes in the process, or street-cred for that matter - and overpriced; they were students on a student income for Pete's sake. The music was trash to say the least and the ratio of men to women was also pretty glaring, there were certainly more guys than there were girls and the incredibly unpleasant feeling that accompanied it was all too apparent, the feeling of being lessened to that of a piece of meat thrown into the centre of a lion's den. Eyes gawped as though stripping her bare for all to see and touching her with tainted hands, intense voracious stares taking in every inch of her body and coupled with derogatory remarks under muttered breath. Never before had she felt so out of her depth, so exposed and so smothered.
By comparison, Sadina appeared well adjusted, in her element even, turning down drink offers and unsolicited advances like a graceful art she had perfected. Her commanding strut with a swift damning lift of her hand to their faces was the only destructive and powerful deterrent she needed to keep the sharks at bay, circle and hover though they might.
Sadina led them over to her group of friends, a diverse, but rowdy bunch and feeling themselves a little too much, incessant chatter about which fish they were about to reel in, who hadn't had sex in a criminally long time and who looked the most fire tonight. It was jargon she mostly understood, but wasn't accustomed or inclined to partake in. On the plus side, they were full of praise for her and as much as the compliments were welcome, it was clear they were directed at her alter-ego for the night, there was no way these people would give her a shred of attention under normal circumstances and to be fair, she was fine with that.
Served by Sadina’s generous friends, they both had had more drinks than they could handle and Sadina in particular was already tipsy. Rachel had paced herself, somewhat deliberately, she was in the company of unfamiliar people, surrounded by thirsty men, it certainly wasn’t the most ideal place for her to let her guard down, but it was at least enjoyable seeing Sadina so beautifully carefree and without regard for the world around her. There was something to be said about that kind of nonchalant mindset, it was an admirable personality trait in given circumstances and not one she herself possessed. Take that instance for example, she hated the music, she hated how many guys there were and she especially hated being left to her own devices, stood there next to the entrance to the toilets and outside of their little group circle sipping away at her drink like a complete loser. Putting up with the noise and having to turn down males one after the other, as though at some point any one of them had a chance to do what the other could not, was exhausting.
It was only out of some sort of sisterly obligation that she felt inclined to stay at that point and even that was wearing thin, this was all a test of her patience.
As though noticing Rachel's discomfort, Sadina suddenly took hold of her hand in a show of commanding, unfazed confidence and led her to the middle of the dance floor.
The next thing she knew, there they both were at the centre of the dance floor, Sadina gyrating on her with the flexibility of a snake, all eyes locked on them and her friends hooting and hollering from the sides. As profound and exhilarating as it was to be on the dance floor with Sadina and having her grind on her, Rachel couldn’t help but feel self conscious. She was no great dancer herself, albeit a little better than Sadina, and all this attention certainly didn’t sit well with her. Sadina was mesmerising, but it wasn’t enough to detract from the overwhelming feeling to flee… until Sadina took her face in her soft hands and instructed her to just focus on her, to let everything around her go, to lose herself in the moment, and so she did, abandoning all her ties to the world around her and embracing that single moment they had created for themselves, that bubble that only they occupied.
She was lost in Sadina’s eyes under the dimly lit violet lights of the dance floor. Everything around them simply faded away and she found herself in a complete state of euphoria, where nothing mattered anymore and time had no bearing.
Sadina could have happily stayed in that state forever, but alas, once again, it was shattered by the crushing weight of cruel reality, when two lovely guys took it upon themselves to grab them both by the waists to grind on them from behind and they weren’t in the least bit deterred by her horror or subsequent look of scorn.
Feeling exceedingly violated, Rachel w
as about to explode into a fit of rage when Sadina took her face in her hands and kissed her.
It honestly took a moment to register that Sadina’s tongue was deep inside her mouth and even then, it was as though her mind and all intelligent thought along with it, had combusted with the spontaneity and intensity of it.
She completely froze, unable to process what had just happened. Everything was a blur and the longer it persisted, the more she found herself melting and slipping further into a kiss induced hypnotic state that either left the guys grinding on them too stunned and awkward or turned on by it, that they immediately backed off, it didn't matter what they said or did after that, she could neither hear nor see them, like everything else, they simply faded into a distant background until all was silent and it was just she and Sadina, her lips delightfully soft, her tongue strong and dominant.
Who knew how long that make-out session lasted, but it felt like an eternity, so much so, that Rachel didn’t even know when it ended. She was left stunned and stupefied.
Sadina didn’t stop there either, after that she took a sip of her drink and leaned in for another deep kiss, this she repeated for the extent of half an hour, Rachel yearning to kiss her more, longer, away from the gaze of everyone else. This woman drove her crazy, Rachel was completely wrapped around her finger, hook, line and sinker, absolutely no question about it. There was no escaping now and she didn't want to even if presented with the option.
Fuck, she had never felt this way about anyone, which is why the events to follow were so soul destroying.
Their make-out session drew to a conclusion and no sooner after that, whilst Rachel was still coming down from the dizzying heights of euphoric bliss, an unfamiliar guy took Sadina by her waist and pressed his lips against hers. Rachel, expelled out of her blissful moment by his sexist pig-like audacity, was about to call him out, when Sadina wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back in a show of complete contentment with the situation and disregard for her, even as he demonstrated a total lack of respect and copped a feel of her behind.
Cryptophobia | Book 2 | Hell & High Water [Fear The Unknown] Page 1