The Meeting Point (21 page)

“You don't feel guilty or anything weird like that, do you?” Her eyes were wide and almost stricken. “God, I'm not trying to spoil anything, I just... Well, you know, you were here and the urge came over me. God, I'm sorry.” She was getting in a bit of a state and Marcus reached out to her.

“No, no, I really enjoyed it, I was just...” He pursed his lips, unsure of whether to tell a lie or come clean. He decided the latter. “I thought you were laughing because you'd gotten one over on me or something.”

She looked hurt. “Just because I like sex, because I like to communicate sexually, doesn't make me a manipulator. I'm not a bad person because I like to talk with my pussy.”

It was Marcus's turn to laugh now. She looked completely confused as he gave a deep guffaw right from his belly. “Sorry, it's just, you look so sad, but say such outrageous things. It's a very odd paradox.”

She smiled. “Yes, I've always been a little inappropriate at times with my choice of phrasing.”

“I like to talk with my pussy?” He raised an eyebrow, and she turned away, embarrassed but smiling.

“Well. What's wrong with that?” Her head was bowed and she looked up through her hair, seeking something. Approval? No.

“Nothing, nothing's wrong with it…it's just hilarious.”

They fell into a stress-free companionship for a while then decided it was time to be getting back. Deborah had been pretty upset. Marcus really ought to check on her. They would have to bury poor Cheryl, if they hadn't already. Marcus felt bad about having run off, but it had turned out okay. He'd broken the ice with Mae, well and truly, and felt that they had a deeper understanding of each other now. Maybe she was right. Maybe talking with her pussy was the only way this woman could communicate. He'd talk to Deborah about it. See what she thought. It was like there had been an unspoken separation between the two groups of lovers, but now he and Mae had certainly broken that. It had felt right at the time, but perhaps the timing could have been better. But then again, passionate encounters like that really did need some sort of catalyst to ignite, so maybe it would have never happened had it not been for the day's crazy, emotional events.

While they fell into step with each other, Marcus wondered if they would all find ultimate unity together. It would be a natural progression, especially if they were all to become lovers. He suddenly remembered about Birch and Hazel. He wasn't sure he was including them in his sexual projections. Not yet at least. That would take a bit longer than a swift hand-job in the shadows.

He shared a quick look with Mae as they walked. She was a very pretty, self-assured woman.

Just as they reached the camp, Angelo came flying out to them, looking stricken.

“Quick, it's Lena, something's very wrong.”

 

 

Deborah held Lena's hair from her face and supported her forehead as she vomited over and over again. She was burning up and sweat glistened on her skin and stuck the rags to her body.

“Lena, what's wrong?”

Mae and Marcus came blasting into the shelter with Angelo close behind. Lena had been too weak to even make it out of the hut, so Deborah had pulled a hole in the side for her to hang her head out of and be sick freely onto the forest floor. At one point, Deborah thought the woman was going to choke, she was so unable to inhale. Tears, mucus, and vomit streaked her face and her eyes shone with panic. Even so, the usually poised woman managed to carry this look with dignity. Deborah couldn't help being impressed.

“Oh my God, she's not going to die, is she?” Mae dived on Lena, yanking her up into her arms as her body kept convulsing. “Don't die, Lena, for fuck's sake.” She rocked her back and forth and Deborah could see how distressed it was making the sick woman.

“Shh, it's all right, Mae. She'll be fine,” she tried to soothe, but Mae was hysterical.

“No, she's going to die, I can feel it.”

To Deborah's astonishment, Lena looked at her, rolled her eyes, patted Mae's back, and managed to croak, “I'm not going to die. I love you, but please go...” and then went back to retching. There was nothing left for her to throw up so she just rasped through her throat. It must have been agony. She'd urinated too with the force of the retching, but Deborah had assured her it was easy enough to build a new shelter.

Mae was still clinging on, and Deborah gently pulled her off.

“Marcus, could you take Mae somewhere? Maybe get her a drink of water or something.”

Marcus obliged, making room for Angelo to come forward and take his lover's hand. Deborah could feel the crackle of electricity that passed between them as their fingers touched. It was alive and strong, and for a second, she could feel it pass right up into the atmosphere around her.

Having Angelo near her seemed to calm Lena, and the convulsing slowed until it was just long breaths and she lay her head on his lap as he stroked her hair. She fell into a deep sleep, and Deborah began to clean up as best she could.

“That's one good thing about sleeping on the forest floor,” she whispered quietly to Angelo while sweeping the soiled leaves and debris outside, “at least it's easy to replace.”

He smiled back at her, looking tired and fraught.

Deborah put her hand on his shoulder. “Try not to worry. I'm sure it was nothing more sinister than the shock of losing Cheryl.”

“I hope so,” he said, but as he searched her face briefly before staring back down at his lover, Deborah could see in his eyes that he was unconvinced.

And if she admitted it to herself, Deborah was scared too.

“I'll leave you for a while. Would you like me to bring you anything?”

“Thank you. Just some water please.” Angelo smiled, but the fear in his eyes kept them dimmed.

When Deborah came out of the hut to see Marcus and Mae sitting on the log bench by the fire with their heads cocked together, she knew they'd been shagging. She sat down near them, and they shuffled apart quickly.

“It's all right,” said Deborah, staring off into the trees. “It was bound to happen sometime.”

Mae leaped forward, catching Deborah's hand. “It's my fault. I'm sorry, I...well, I just can't help myself.” Her eyes were pools of honesty and Deborah smiled.

“I know that.” Deborah looked down at their tangled fists. “I just wish it had been better timing. That's all.”

Mae's face contorted hideously and she wailed. “I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

Marcus finally had the good grace to speak up. “It's not just your fault,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. “I was angry and brooding. We'd lost someone, and I was confused. Sometimes these things just happen when emotions are running high.”

“What do you think the other two will think of it?” Deborah asked softly, and a giggle burst on Mae's lips.

“Who, you mean the virgins?” She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. “They know me. They know what I'm like. They know they have my heart.”

“Why do you call them the virgins?” Deborah was curious.

“Because I'm practically the only lover either of them have had.”

“Oh, you think so?” Deborah smiled and Mae looked up.

“Of course, you and Lena...in the prison...”

“She's a very skilled lover if I remember correctly.” Deborah couldn't help letting a smug feeling descend over her.

Mae's expression went from amazement to indignation.

“Well, I did teach her all she knows.” She pouted.

Marcus and Deborah started to laugh heartily, and Mae soon joined in. It was the strangest feeling to be in the depths of despair and be sharing laughter at the same time. Deborah didn't know what the rules were on being human anymore so she just went with it. Tears were falling, shoulders heaving, and squeals of mirth rang out through the forest.
A fitting tribute to a lost friend
, thought Deborah, and at the height of the emotional outburst her spirit trickled free. She could sense Marcus was lifting too and they both reached out to take Mae's hand at the same time.

“Trust in us and let go,” Marcus whispered so softly that Deborah wondered if he had said it aloud at all.

The world fell away, leaving light and peace in its wake. Mae's spirit was jagged yet serene, and Deborah reached out to touch it with hers. Like a shocked bird, Mae retreated in fright and at once they were back in the forest sitting on rough, damp logs.

“Wow. What the hell was that?”

“That was your first venture into ultimate unity.” Deborah studied Mae's face, trying to read her thoughts.

“But I thought you needed to have sex, or come, or something to do that.”

“Yes, that's the best way. But we've been realizing there's many ways to achieve it. I think sex just takes you there more easily because of how intense it is.”

“But what's the point?”

“It's a connection, isn't it?” Deborah squeezed Mae's hand. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I don't know.” Mae dropped Deborah's grip and retreated a little in her seat. “It felt like dying.”

“Well, you do have to let go of yourself a bit to be released into it. And that can be scary.”

Mae shrugged slightly as if to say the conversation was over. She highlighted her point by changing the subject. “So why weren't you angry about me and Marcus then?”

Marcus looked away awkwardly; he'd probably been anticipating having this conversation alone later. But Deborah felt that now was the time to address it. By talking it through maybe she could understand her own reactions too.

“I'm not really sure. I guess it's the same as when you said
they have my heart
about Lena and Angelo. Marcus and I are the same. We've been through enough in our lives to know that the love we share with our heart is a completely different thing to the love we share physically with anybody else. The body is a place of pleasure and union, and so is the mind. But you can't change who holds your heart.”

Mae nodded. “Yes, yes, that's how I feel. I know Lena's struggled with it on a couple of occasions, but to hear she's been at it with all and whoever at the prison, well!” A wicked look glinted in her eye and she smiled. It was a lovely moment.

“And I guess if we're supposed to be starting some sort of colony, we'd better get used to sharing our genes.” Deborah smiled.

“What do you mean? You know we can't procreate.” Marcus looked hurt.

“We used to know that,” Deborah said. “But if Lena does indeed have this magic pheromone, then who knows what could be possible?”

“Always the scientist,” Marcus said and lovingly pulled Deborah toward him. “I don't think you should get your hopes up, my love.”

“But they must have had studies, trials, labs where they tested for these things. If Lena has already been told of her status, she may have had an effect on Angelo already.”

Mae seemed to be getting animated by Deborah's words. “You mean...” Mae hesitated, looking like the sun had just risen for her. “Oh my God!” Her smile was huge now and the couple leaned in as she spoke. “Back at the manor, she got banished for getting too close to Angelo. She mentioned they'd had an accident. What if his seed made her pregnant! What if that's why she's puking all over the place?”

“I doubt that. Nausea would be a gradual thing not like this violent outburst,” Deborah tried to reason, but Mae was as high as a kite.

“But weren't the women suitable for childbearing all used as birthers?” Marcus looked confused, but there was an enthusiasm there too.

“Yes,” replied Mae. “But there were many different factors. For example, I wasn't chosen because my periods were very irregular—almost non-existent in fact—but that doesn't mean I couldn't release an egg every now and then, does it?” She looked hopefully to Deborah who could only shrug—the woman was right. “Besides, it's the male fertility that was billed as the main problem, not ours, isn't that right?”

Deborah nodded again, but tried to calm Mae. “We mustn't get too excited by this, Mae. Lena is very fragile right now, and I do not think she is pregnant.”

“I do. Haven't you noticed her breasts have been swelling?”

“Well actually, Mae, no I haven't.”

“They have. And you let her get skinny in that bloody prison. You didn't look after her, that's for sure. Her body is exhausted. Poor thing.”

There she was. The sparky little drama queen back at her best. Deborah was totally convinced that Lena was not with child, and if Mae did think her breasts looked bigger, that could happen if she'd lost weight elsewhere on her body.

Mae stood. “I bloody knew my little Lena was going to be our savior,” she stated, and then flounced off toward the hut, no doubt to announce her revelation to the two exhausted souls.

“She really is something else,” said Deborah softly. She had half a mind to follow her and pull her back, let the two rest, but she wasn't their mother. It was hard letting people make their own mistakes sometimes.

“Yes, she is.” Marcus pulled her in close and nuzzled into her hairline. “I am so sorry for storming off when you needed support. You're right. We do need to build bridges with Birch and Hazel.”

“Like the bridge you made with Mae?” Deborah couldn't help the dig, but it wasn't said with malice.

“Not quite,” he said, smiling.

“I think Birch does mean well.”

And as if he'd been waiting in the wings for his cue, Birch appeared with Hazel following closely behind, looking apprehensive. Birch's jaw was set as if he was coming to sort things out once and for all.

“May we talk?” he said seriously.

“Listen, if it's about my outburst earlier, I'm sorry.” As Marcus spoke, the aggressive atmosphere began to lift. “I was just shocked at seeing you, that's all.” He motioned to the couple to join him and Deborah on the logs, and they did. “It's just a similar
déjà vu
from all those years ago when we first met you in the forest. I guess the feelings of wanting to keep things to myself for a little while at least crept in. You were such a force, Birch. And ultimately, you betrayed us. We've lost many years due to your actions.”

Birch leaned his elbows on his knees and hung his head.

“We could have had it all out there.”

“I know.” Birch kept staring at the ground, but there was a ripple in his shoulders telling of his emotion. “I doubt I can ever make up for that loss, but if only you'd seen how I worked and worked to find this place, to find you. How we've both worked.” He reached over to Hazel and took her hand. “It has been our life's endeavor since that day to find you and free you and bring you to our haven.”

“You mean Hazel gave herself up?” Deborah stared.

“We had keep track of where you were. I kept hidden in the farm until I knew you had managed to make contact. I knew I could lead you to safety if only you would break free.”

“Couldn't you have helped us escape?”

Hazel glanced at Marcus's arm where the electrodes still protruded and lowered her head. “I've witnessed that go wrong. I've seen a man, barely more than a boy, leap through the boundary and drop like a stone when his heart literally exploded. It was the most terrifying thing I've ever had to watch. He was pale as breath with foaming red blood oozing from his nose and mouth. For many years, I had nightmares of that sight. Only it wasn't the boy's face I saw in my dreams all bloodied and dead, it was yours, Marcus.”

Deborah felt a surge of nausea rise in her chest and swallowed it down.

“I see.” Marcus absently ran his fingertips over the wires and Deborah shuddered. “And what about your connection with Birch? I take it you can communicate through ultimate unity?”

“Yes. We worked on our bond while we tried to find out where you had been taken. It was faint at first, but the more we resolved to be part of your release, the stronger it became.”

“And you found this place then?”

“Yes, the first camp became breached and birds had begun to flee. It's an eerie thing indeed, a forest with no birdsong. It creeps up on you slowly until one day you realize they're gone.”

As Deborah listened to Birch, she tuned in to the natural buzzing and vibrating of the trees, and of course the caws and chirps of various species of birds communicating and going about their daily business.

“I just followed the birds. They led me to safety.”

Deborah was quite overwhelmed by the image Birch had described. So simple. Now she was aware, the birdsong was immense, permeating through her skull and into the center of her being.