“Yes, you will,” said Cindy. She is not looking at my collarbone! “But it won’t always be that big. The bone will remodel over time.”
“Well, the hot water feels great on it. How do you get so much water so hot?” D.D. stuck her legs out and let her butt settle to the bottom of the tank so the water could soothe her healing bone.
“There’s a woodstove in the guest quarters,” said one of the others. “We’ve rigged up a coil of copper pipe around it. Somebody has to start tending the fire ’round the clock about three days before we plan to have a soak party.”
“Oh, but it’s so worth it.” moaned Cindy, sinking into the tub herself. Her feet touched D.D.’s, and D.D. moved hers away. Cindy’s feet followed.
Okay, that’s it. “Cindy, those are my feet. Do you mind?”
Cindy pulled her feet back. “Oh, sorry.” Trying to make it seem like an accident.
“Cindy,” Maddy said, “I think it’s about damn time you went home. Don’t you?”
Cindy took a breath to argue, but Maddy pulled herself upright and scowled. Cindy appeared to reconsider. “Fine. I was just leaving anyway.” She hoisted herself out of the water and made the closest approximation of a dignified exit that a dripping, obese person can make.
“Fucking nuns.” Maddy shook her head. “Brides of Christ, my ass! She always thinks she’s being so slick and sly.”
“Now, now,” said Prianca. “It can’t be easy, giving up men like that.”
“We’ve pretty much given up men here in the guest quarters,” said Deanna, or somebody. “Not on purpose, it just worked out that way.”
“Speak for yourself!”
“Carolyn! Is there something you’re not telling us?”
“Maybe. Ain’t nobody’s business but mine, is it now?”
“Hmph. Lucky! It’s been so long for me, I wouldn’t know what to do with a man if I had one.” Lacey crossed her arms and stared off into space wistfully. “I used to have a boyfriend I’d call the Train, because he could go all night long.”
“I had a man I called the Sniper because he always hit the spot.”
“Yeah, well this guy I’ve been meeting? I call him Courvoisier.” Carolyn smirked.
“What the fuck is that?” Maddy said. “Ain’t it some kind of fancy liquor?'
“He sure is!” It took a minute. The girls all groaned at once.
“On that note,” sighed Lacey. “I’m getting all pruney.” She held out her soggy fingers.
“Yeah, it’s getting late,” one of the others said. “I’m heading in.”
“Yeah, the mosquitoes love me. I’m getting et up.”
One by one, all the women left the tub except D.D. and Selene. Once they were gone, the water level was shallower. They lay down horizontally and floated, their ears submerged in utter silence. Their hands at their sides were wafting in the water, which had cooled to skin temperature. The sky directly above them had become overcast, clouds concealing the stars, lit to a blank LCD display by the moon behind. D.D. closed her eyes in the darkness. Only the slight coolness of the damp Mississippi air above, compared to the water in which she floated, let her know her body was even there.
Then, electrically, something brushed her outer thigh. It was the back of Selene’s hand. Neither of them pulled away, and they continued to drift together until both their arms were gently trapped between them. They rebounded and began to drift apart, but their movement put the palm sides of their fingers together. They gently intertwined them. The resistance of their arms almost imperceptibly brought their languid drifting into sync until they floated as one. In the profound silence, D.D. couldn’t miss the subtle quickening of her breath and heart.
Finally, it was D.D. who broke the spell. She drew her hand back and sat up in the water, which was beginning to get uncomfortably cool. “I have to pee.”
Selene sat up too, smiling, eyes gleaming in the torchlight. Her dirty-blond curls had darkened and straightened with wetness, plastered sleekly to her scalp. “I’ll show you where it is.”
They slowly and deliberately got out of the water and dried themselves. With her wet shorts and tank top still on, D.D.’s towel was ineffective. She hung it around her neck and followed Selene inside. The taller woman’s gait had the smooth oscillation of a woman who was at home in the saddle. She opened the door to the guest quarters, and D.D.’s eyes took a moment to adjust even in the dim lanternlight.
“It’s right there. I’ll wait,” Selene said. “Right. Here.” She lightly touched the back of her fingers to D.D.’s forearm, causing a shiver.
In the bathroom, D.D. stripped and left her sopping clothing on the floor. She wrapped the towel around her body and came out. Her towel protecting the furniture, Selene was sitting in her bandanna-bikini swimsuit, on an institutional-looking striped Queen Anne settee. It was the common room of the nun’s guest quarters. The room was library-like, with dark wood, book-lined shelves all around and sturdy upholstered chairs for reading.
D.D. glided surely to the settee and sat down next to Selene. She tentatively laid a hand on her shoulder, and when Selene leaned in, D.D. slid her hand around her neck. Her lips met D.D.’s, soft and delicate, and parted to gently swirl their tongues together.
They slid closer, arms around one another. D.D. slid her cheek over the silk of Selene’s face and kissed her neck. “Is there somewhere we can be alone?” she whispered.
Selene rose and D.D. surged to her feet as well, loathe to increase the distance between them. Selene playfully hooked her finger over the twist between D.D.’s breasts and used the towel to pull her down the hall into a sparely-furnished bedroom. Once the door shut behind them, Selene turned to light her own lantern and then stripped off her cotton swimsuit. D.D. put her hands to her towel, met Selene’s eyes, and slowly—very slowly—teased the knot apart, then finally let the towel fall to the floor.
Selene’s breasts were small, with firm, brown nipples and crinkled areolas. D.D. found herself hypnotized by the angles of her frame, her wiry strength and symmetry. She crossed the space between them, bare feet padding on the wood, and found she had to go on tiptoe to kiss her. The kiss deepened, and D.D. cupped Selene’s spare buttock to pull her closer. Selene stroked her hair and throat and trailed her hand towards D.D.’s breast, pressing the tender bump of the healing, broken bone, protruding prominently as D.D. extended her neck.
That broke D.D.’s concentration enough to distract her; she put her hand over Selene’s and pulled her backwards to the double bed. They fell together, softness on softness, hungrily kissing. Selene lowered her head to D.D.’s nipple and nipped it with her lips, then pulled it into her mouth and rolled it with her tongue over and over until D.D. couldn’t help but moan.
At that, Selene lifted her head and put her finger on D.D.’s lips. “All the bedrooms are on this hall,” she cautioned.
D.D. nodded, thinking, how will I ever keep quiet? This is like having sex in my room at mom’s house! She rolled over on top of Selene, jamming her thigh up between hers, rolling both of those penny-brown nipples between her fingers, sealing her mouth to hers, sucking her tongue.
Selene responded by lifting her hips, tilting her mons against D.D.’s thigh with a rocking equestrian movement that grew rapidly more urgent. Her two thighs were compressing D.D.’s one, so hard it was almost going numb. D.D. slid one hand between them, probing easily until she found the slippery slit and locate the tiny button within. She gasped—quiet! —as Selene’s slender fingers found her own clit.
She followed the cues as the taller woman led her into a world-rocking rhythm, her belly and breasts and face all blaring their exultation at the buttery warmth of her body. The taste of her tongue was in her mouth, blending with the urgency of their mingled breaths and the cold of her wet hair trailing across her jaw. All at once, she was coming in iridescent waves. Selene grasped the back of her waist and bucked so hard. D.D. almost lost her touch.
She realized they were coming together, whi
ch touched her off, in turn, into a deeper orgasm. D.D. lost all track of where she was, who she was, or even that she was. When she began to return to the world again, she realized she’d probably made some noise, and that the bed had been creaking rhythmically, too. Oh, well.
She reclaimed her hand from between Selene’s thighs and knelt on her elbows. Someone opened a door in the hall and padded past. A few moments later, they heard Maddy’s unmistakably tinted vocabulary streaming from the bathroom, and then a loud plop as D.D.’s wet clothes landed on the common-room floor.
The two tittered like giddy teenagers.
“That was…wow.”
Selene nodded, her brown eyes dreamily half-lidded, and spoke softly. “I knew I wanted you the moment I saw you standing in the road, swaying, half dead on your feet, and looking up at me.”
“Right after you’d shot that guy in the field.”
She smiled and laid a hand on D.D.’s face. “You had a look on your face that said, ‘if I have to fight you, I damn well will.’ That blew me away. There you were, weak and injured and filthy and riled by pain, and you knew you needed help, but you were ready to take the situation as it was and give it your best no matter what. You were a warrior.”
A warrior. I never really saw myself that way. She tucked that thought away to examine later, like a jewel Selene had picked up from the dust of D.D.’s life and thoughtlessly handed to her.
“You know what I was thinking at that moment?” D.D. said. “Besides that you were the most graceful horsewoman I’ve ever seen? I was thinking that I had never realized how beautiful a woman’s face could be.” I would not have fought you, brown-eyed avenging angel.
D.D. sunk onto her side, nestled against Selene’s shoulder. The two of them puddled into the serene, slow ripples of undisturbed sleep.
Your Hero and Mine
Highfield Register, November 18
In response to the deep concern expressed by many about danger to the freedom of the press, we at the Highfield Register are pleased to announce that publication of the newspaper you have come to know and love will continue as usual, despite the brief interruption occasioned by an attempt at arson by opponents of the First Amendment of our Constitution.
The chaos which struck us after the machine sickness was propagated across our nation has been heart-wrenching and terrifying. What is more disturbing, however, is those who would exploit the crisis to perpetuate a dangerous form of terrorism that can lead to irredeemable anarchy.
We can all take reassurance from the fact that the President of the United States of America has safely survived the catastrophe, along with his most critical aides and crucial civilian and military leadership. This county, which voted 73% for President Schmidt in the last, hotly-contested, presidential election, can now proudly boast to being the headquarters of the newly-reconstituted federal government.
The first order of any modern government is to care for its people. Social Security payments can be expected to resume within a short period of time; those eligible should bring documentation of their eligibility to the address specified in the “announcements” section of this paper. All residents will be expected to register by household. The US Census Bureau will begin hiring census canvassers on a tapering basis as the system becomes operational.
We know, as citizens of this great nation, that order must be restored for liberty to triumph. Let us take these first steps together to build a brighter future.
Do as I Say, Not as I Do…
Around 4:00 am, D.D. woke to pee. It took her a few moments to recall where she was, and when she did, she reached for Selene. The other woman was gone from the bed, and D.D. sat up just as Selene slipped back in through the bedroom door. D.D. rose, paused for a sweetly sensual kiss, and slipped out. She snagged her wet clothing off the floor on the way by.
When she got back to Selene’s bedroom, she found Selene was up and holding out a nightgown. D.D. slipped into it, and found it trailed on the floor because she was so much shorter than Selene. Selene beckoned her to follow. She held the hem up and followed her to the end of the hall just before the common room. “Twelve rooms, ten women. These two are free. Right or left?” Selene whispered.
D.D. took the lantern and peeked in both rooms. Pretty much the same, and identical to Selene’s. She chose the one towards the back of the house. “This one.” Selene followed her in and turned down the covers while D.D. hung her clothes on a chair to dry. D.D. slid into the bed, kicking to free her feet from the long gown. Selene stroked her face, cupped her cotton-covered breast briefly and tenderly, and leaned forward to plant a kiss on the bump of her knitting bone. She pulled the covers up almost maternally, and kissed D.D. deeply once more.
“So, we have to be secret about this?” D.D. whispered.
“It’s wiser to. I’ll tell you the whole story tomorrow. For now, get some sleep.” With another brief kiss, she was gone.
D.D. closed her eyes and sighed, deeply content. When she opened her eyes again, dawn light was coming around the curtain of the room’s single window. The austerity of a retreat space was evident: the room held a basic wood desk, shallow closet with wooden hooks, bedstead, and an old-fashioned braided rag rug. Above the desk was a small wall-mounted bookshelf. Two books were neatly stacked right in the center of it: a Catholic Bible and a biography of Saint Benedict.
She got up. Her clothes were still wet, so she gathered the nightgown again, a gesture which made her feel vaguely Victorian and ladylike, and went out to the common room.
D.D. crossed the common room, which was in the center of the elongated structure, and entered the kitchen wing, following the aroma of cooking food and…was it? Coffee? No, it wasn’t. It was roasted chicory and dandelion brew, a brownish concoction which had a rich flavor similar to coffee’s bracing bitterness, but with no caffeine.
Lacey and Prianca sat at one of the tables, slurping at bowls of oat porridge and cups of the chickory brew.
“May I?”
“Of course.”
D.D. helped herself to the last of the oatmeal from a pot off to the side of the wood-burning cookstove. The smaller heating stove, with its ingenious spiraled-copper tubing, sat alongside. She scooped a dollop of seabutter on top and dug in.
“Did Selene give you her nightgown?” Prianca smiled.
“You look like a little girl wearing Mom’s clothes. I can hem it up for you if you like,” Lacey said.
“No, she just lent it to me. I didn’t feel like going back over to the hospital last night. You all were asleep by the time we came inside.”
“Yeah, the whole monastery keeps nun’s hours. Didn’t the bells wake you?”
“No, I didn’t hear them. They were much louder at the hospital.”
“Nobody ever gets much rest at hospitals,” Prianca observed.
“True. I guess it’s traditional to wake patients up to take their sleeping pills.”
Selene came in, fully dressed, and peeked into the empty pot. “No more oatmeal? That’s what I get for being a slugabed. Are there any of those shelled pecans left?” She found the nuts in a cabinet and sat down to munch a handful.
D.D. hoped her face wasn’t flushing. She didn’t know where to look. I’m a terrible liar.
“Are your clothes dry?” Selene helped her out.
“Not even close. I guess I need to walk over to the infirmary to get my stuff sooner rather than later.”
“I’ll come with you.” Selene popped out of her chair. D.D. scooped up her last bite and gathered her skirts.
After she grabbed her shoes, the two walked down the path to the main complex. Kittykitty trailed behind, wagging his curly tail. They passed a crook in the trail where they were out of sight of both the monastery and the guest quarters, and D.D. reached for Selene’s hand. Selene squeezed back and smiled, and D.D. moved closer to kiss her, but Selene shied away.
“Okay, you were gonna tell me. What’s up?” D.D. asked.
“Have you not noticed that t
his is a Catholic monastery?”
“Oh, you’re kidding! This is the twenty-first century. There’s no communications. No way they’re still under the thumb of the Pope. The world has completely changed in ways no one could have imagined. Surely they’re not still frowning on stuff like that!”
“Benedictine orders have always been self-sufficient, but they say they go by the teaching they’ve gotten from Rome in the past. As far as they’re concerned, it’s still The One True Church.”
D.D. made a pouf of dismissal. Then she said, “But what about Cindy playing footsie with me in the hot tub? I mean—”
“Yeah. Hypocritical, ain’t it? And all those pedophile priests. I was raised Catholic, but all that’s why I left. I’m not one for organized religion.”
“I don’t know. People apparently need religion in their lives. If they don’t have church, they start to look to political leaders instead. Worshipping the government.”
“Or football.”
“That too. Especially here in the South.”
“My brother used to say a Southern faggot is somebody who likes women better than he likes football!”
“Whatever do they do, now that they don’t have The Game on TV?”
“Attack travelers on the road, mostly. They’ve got to do something with all that testosterone.”
They reached the hospital and D.D. went into the dorm. Greta was putting a cool cloth on the forehead of young child, her only patient at the moment.
Cindy was making D.D.’s empty bed. She did not look up when D.D. came in. D.D. went over to the side of the bed just as Cindy finished making it.
“Did you have a good night?” Cindy asked, her tone ever-so-slightly strident.
D.D. smiled sweetly. “I always sleep well after a soak. How about you?”
“Fine, thank you.”
Greta was still fussing over the child, wan and immobile in the bed.
Eupocalypse Box Set Page 43