The day after: An apocalyptic morning (126 page)

              "Not tonight," Skip told him. "Remember, we want to introduce our surprises to them one step at a time. We want them to think that things can't possibly get any worse and then show them that they can. These are going to be some fucked-up individuals by the time they get here."

              "Good," Jack said. "Maybe they'll decide not to come at all."

              Before climbing into an empty cot on the top floor of the community center, Skip gave a briefing to his two ambush teams about their next day's mission. This took place in the weapons storage room while the eight troopers had been disassembling and thoroughly cleaning their weapons.

              "You can already see that you're having a detrimental effect on them," he said, sipping out of a warm can of diet cola. "As you've pointed out in the debriefing, they no longer keep a single point man on duty and they've spread out their formation considerably. They've changed their tactics a little to adapt to the situation and now we're going to change our tactic as well." He stood up and picked up a pointer, which he carried over to his large map. "Now this," he said, pointing to the area near the southern tip of the mudfall that the Auburnites were currently maneuvering around, "is where we're going to hit next. As you can see, this is premium ambush ground as it has hundreds of small hills overlooking a fairly narrow marching corridor. There's nothing different about that. Only now, instead of hitting the lead elements, you're going to hit the middle of the formation."

              "Hit the middle of the formation?" Maggie asked doubtfully. "But won't that give them troops on both of our flanks to surround us with?"

              "It will," Skip agreed, "but as you found over the course of the day, you have the advantage when it comes to making your getaway. You're already gone by the time they start moving their troops to intercept. I'm confident that you can still get clear of the area before they can rally after you as long as you stick to doctrine and make a quick, stinging attack. The purpose this will serve is to destroy the feeling of safety that those troops not in the front are currently enjoying. After your attack you will proceed directly to the rear and I will pick you up there."

              "Skip," Christine said, "that's still quite a close margin for error. What if - God forbid - one of us is wounded? Or what if someone twists their ankle on the way out? If we're slowed up even a little, then we'll be forced to either leave our wounded behind or get captured."

              Skip smiled. "I understand that," he said. "And that's why I'm going to drop you a little bit earlier than normal and let you make a few preparations to slow your pursuers down a bit."

              "Preparations?"

              "Preparations," Skip said. He then explained what he meant. "Steve will be in to show you just how you're going to set these things up. Now we only have a limited number of them, so use them wisely, but use them."

              "How do you deal with it, Christine?" Maggie asked her squad leader about an hour after the briefing had ended. "Killing people I mean."

              They were in the community bathing room, both of them stripped down to their bare skin, washing their filthy bodies with washrags and cold water from the tub. Both were shivering lightly, their flesh a series of goose pimples from the chilly air, but all the same the desire to get the mud from their bodies overrode their desire to be warm.

              "I don't look at them as people," Christine told her. "I mean, deep down inside, I know they are, but I don't look at them that way, I just can't. They're targets for me to take down. They're things that need to be destroyed in order to keep me from being destroyed. That's how I justify killing them."

              Maggie nodded doubtfully, not saying anything. She dipped her washrag and scrubbed a little at a stubborn stain near her upper thigh.

              "Are you feeling guilty for it?" Christine asked gently.

              "Well..." she said, hesitating, "in a way."

              "In a way?"

              "I enjoyed killing those people," she said. "I liked it. When I was looking through that scope today and saw those bullets hitting those fuckers, I liked it. That's what I feel guilty about - liking killing someone. I wonder if it means that I'm some sort of... you know?"

              "Psycho?" Christine offered, scrubbing at the slight swelling of her pregnant stomach. How had dirt managed to get there?

              "Yes," Maggie admitted. "It scares me that I might... well... want to keep doing it after all this is over."

              "You won't," Christine assured her. "I think you're just justifying what we have to do in your mind. We weren't raised to kill people, Mags. And now that we have to do it we have to come up with some sort of way to... what's the word I'm looking for?"

              "Rationalize it?"

              "Right," Christine said with a smile. "You have to rationalize it."

              Maggie nodded, feeling a little better. "There's something else that it does," she said.

              "What's that?"

              She blushed. "Oh... never mind. It's nothing."

              "What?" Christine asked, suspecting what her friend was talking about. "You can tell me."

              Maggie giggled a little nervously. "Well... this is embarrassing but... to tell you the truth... it makes me... well..."

              Christine smiled knowingly. "Horny?" she suggested.

              Maggie let out a laugh, blushing deeper. "Yes," she admitted. "I know it's strange and it probably means I'm deranged, but I've never been so horny in all my life. Why would killing people do that to me?"

              "It's not killing people that does it," Christine told her. "It's the combat itself. It's happened every time I've been in a gunfight, starting with the first time Skip, Jack, and I were attacked on the trail before we even got here. Skip told me that it's a normal reaction to surviving a life-threatening situation."

              "Really?" she said, relieved at the thought that what she was going through might be normal.

              "Oh God yes," Christine said. "Didn't you get it after we had the gunfight with those hunter assholes before? I boffed the living shit out of Skip after that. That was the day we made up from the fight we'd had over Missy. And oh boy did we make up. I would've jumped him tonight as well but he's upstairs trying to get some sleep for his night mission."

              "Now that you mention it," Maggie said with a giggle, "I was rather randy after that. Only I didn't have anyone to... you know. I do seem to remember going home and having a little session with my best friend that night though."

              "Your best friend?" Christine asked, not getting her.

              Maggie smiled. "You have a man so you wouldn't know about it," she said. "My long, cylindrical best friend that runs off of batteries."

              Now it was Christine's turn to blush. "I see," she said.

              "May you never have to rely on such a friend all the time," Maggie told her. "So what I'm getting out of this conversation is that I shouldn't feel guilty about going home right now and breaking him out of the drawer. I think he's going to earn his batteries tonight."

              Christine giggled, still blushing and a little embarrassed, but also suffering greatly from the affliction that she had just described. She found herself looking at Maggie's nude body, at the graceful curves of her form. Maggie, a natural blonde like herself, did not have a natural set of breasts on her. They were the size of softballs and stood out firmly from her chest, a clear valley between them. Her surgeon had done a good job of it. There were no scars visible. Maggie's nipples were standing firmly erect, poking out into the moist, chilly air. Whether it was from the arousal she had been speaking of or from the cold - or perhaps a combination of both - Christine did not know. She did know that she had a powerful urge to touch those breasts however. Since she and Paula had begun sharing certain marital liberties with each other, Christine had discovered a latent attraction for members of her own sex.

              "Well," Christine said, taking a step closer to her, close enough to invade the envelope of Maggie's personal space, "I'm not sure you should do that. We are in the midst of a battery shortage here you know."

              "What?" Maggie said a little uncomfortable, wanting to take a step backward but prevented from this by the bathtub behind her.

              "What I mean," Christine said, stepping even closer, so that the tips of her own breasts were only inches away from Maggie's, "is that if there's another way to take care of these things, shouldn't we conserve our supplies?"

              "Uh... uh... another way?" Maggie gasped, now backed completely up against the tub. She could feel the cold porcelain against the backs of her thighs. What was Christine doing? She wasn't really suggesting... that, was she?

              "Let me help you, Mags," Christine said, reaching out and putting her hands on those breasts. They felt firm to the touch, almost rubbery. Not as nice as Paula's natural boobs, but not bad either.

              " Christine," Maggie protested shakily, trying not to notice how nice it felt to have someone touching her body - it had been so long, "Maybe I've given you the wrong impression about me, but..."

              "Shhh," Christine said, her mind spinning with impulsive lust now. She did not consider what she was doing to be cheating on her husband, although had it been Skip doing what she was, she would've been furious. She just needed some relief and here, in front of her, was someone who could maybe provide it for her. That wasn't so bad, was it? It wasn't like she was trying this with another man. She lowered her head and took Maggie's nipple into her mouth, sucking it and tonguing it.

              " Christine, oh God, don't do this to me," Maggie cried, feeling tingles running through her body at the feel of a pair of lips on her nipple. The fact that they were a girl's lips seemed to add a perverse thrill to the experience.

              Christine didn't listen. The fact that Maggie had not physically pushed her away in disgust spoke volumes. She switched her mouth to the other breast and began suckling it as well. Her hands slid down Maggie's stomach and into her thick nest of curly blonde hair. Her fingers sought out and quickly found the target she was after. Maggie's lips were already swollen and wet, ready for penetration. Christine provided this. She slid her middle finger up into her friend's body, pushing and pulling it in and out until the juices began to drip onto her hand.

              "Oh God," Maggie moaned, her hips involuntarily pushing against the invading hand. She knew what she was doing was wrong, was a perversion, but it felt so good. She couldn't bring herself to stop her. Instead, she found her hands resting on Christine's bare back, actually encouraging her, actually pulling her closer.

              "Isn't this better than a dildo?" Christine whispered, adding another finger to Maggie's wet pussy and increasing the force of her penetrations. She freed her mouth from the nipple and moved it up to Maggie's neck instead. She began to kiss and suck the soft flesh, giving little bites here and there, tasting the salt, smelling the soap.

              "Yes," Maggie heard herself saying. "Oh yes, Christine, but..."

              "No buts," Christine whispered, putting her lips against Maggie's and kissing her. Maggie resisted at first until Christine began to lick sensuously at her mouth with her tongue. Gradually Maggie allowed her mouth to open and her own tongue to peek out. The tips touched, just for an instant at first and then for a long, swirling session of saliva exchange.

              Maggie gave in, pulling Christine even tighter against her, feeling the touch of their breasts in intimate contact. She never would have thought that the feel of another woman against her would be so... so... sexy, so soft.

              They kissed and sucked each other's tongues, Maggie's hands straying down and experimenting with the exploration of Christine's pregnancy swollen breasts. Christine, meanwhile, continued to slide her two fingers in and out of Maggie's body, angling her thumb upward to caress the swollen clit with each stroke.

              "Oh, Christine," Maggie breathed when the kiss broke for a moment, "that feels so good. It's been too long since anyone's touched me there."

              Christine smiled, giving her upper lip a long, teasing suck. "You ain't felt nothing yet," she said, pulling her hand free. "Sit on the edge of the tub."

              "What?" Maggie groaned, distressed at the sudden loss of sensation just as she was starting to feel the approach of orgasm.

              "Do it," Christine commanded, taking a half step back.

              "What are you going to do?" she asked, her nervousness returning.

              "I think you know what I'm going to do," Christine said. "Now sit on the tub."

              Trembling with desire, fear, and guilt, Maggie sat on the edge of the tub. She let her long, sexy legs fall apart, opening herself. Slowly Christine sank to her knees on the ground before her, bringing her face right to the level of Maggie's crotch. Her pubic hair was very thick, especially for a blonde, but her lips were swollen and open, an angry red in color.