CONTENT WARNING: This story contains elements of reluctance/non-consent. If you don't want to read those topics, you have been warned.
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When the women and girls started dying, I stayed put for a year, hunkering down at home. But once the second winter froze over the exodus had begun.
Some men had already left, haunted by the painful memories, while others simply perished. Most of us lingered though because we had nowhere else to go.
I lived in bumfuck Wyoming, the best and worst place to be during an apocalypse. At first it was perfect because there was no one around. That meant less crazies, looters and marauders, a path many men were all too eager to follow when society collapsed.
We did okay for a while, mostly because we were a handy, hardened bunch. When the power grid failed we reverted to a more primitive lifestyle and it didn't take long for us to get used to bartering and trade. But we couldn't survive the harsh climate forever. As the October chill crept through--our gas tanks near empty, our homes now dilapidated--death was imminent.
Then came the nail in the coffin: Sophia, our final "daughter" as we affectionately referred to her, passed away. We knew there was nothing left for us at home so we elected to go south.
We traveled in a caravan, about 40 RVs and campers in total. We were all adult males, as many of the young boys had died in the absence of their mothers. Also, in truth, we couldn't risk the liability.
The first few days took us through dozens of detours to stock up on any gasoline we could scrounge. Most of the country had already been thoroughly scavenged, but out here in the backwater there was still plenty untouched.
During one of those stops at an old RV park we met some rugged guys and, to my dismay, let them hitch on. I didn't like that they were unknown variables but it was hard to say no to their muscle and supplies. So we accepted the gruff stragglers into our ragtag bunch and together continued south.
When we made it to Colorado we took a rest stop in a quaint mountain town. Everything had already been ransacked but we still scraped out what we could before reconvening at our vehicles, which were parked in a huge bunch.
"I say we stay here for a few nights," said our old mayor, who even after the disaster had remained our de facto leader. He then delegated tasks, leaving me and a few guys to gather wood while he and some others hunted.
Like a lot of men in this post-apocalyptic world, I mainly stuck to myself, and now was no different as I gathered sticks. But just as I was reaching over to pick up a pretty twig, I was startled by a voice I didn't recognize behind me.
"You admiring the view, too?"
When I turned I saw it came from one of the guys who'd recently joined us.
"Oh! Uhh, hey...! Yeah..." I answered sheepishly, having nearly forgotten how to engage in small talk.
I'd always been a bit of a loner, which is actually why I think I'd handled the catastrophe so well. Aside from the obvious, my life wasn't all that different. I still just got along living.
It dawned on me when he went to shake my hand that I wasn't sure I'd ever experience something like this again--the simple pleasure of meeting a new friend. And even though he was a tough looking dude, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and put my hand in his with a soft smile.
This guy definitely wasn't someone I'd have interacted with before all this. Tall, brawny, with a scraggly beard and Roman nose that looked like it'd been broken more than a few times, he was really intimidating. In typical tough guy fashion, he wore a leather jacket, white tee and dark jeans. And as expected, when he took his coat off there were bad boy tattoos tracing his upper body.
"I'm Snake," he introduced, and I thought to myself 'he can't be serious.'
But then I noticed an inked serpent coiling up his hairy forearm and figured it was some biker nickname. Not wanting to insult this huge man, I made nothing of it while introducing myself.
"Dylan."
We walked and talked for a while and Snake was a lot chiller than I expected; I had to remind myself that even in dire times there are still good people. He told me he was 40 and originally from Texas but didn't go into much detail.
Like most others, Snake chose to keep his previous life private. I understood why but with both my parents dead I had nothing to hide, so I told Snake everything, or what little there was. I told him I was 20, and supposed to start at University of Wyoming before all this. He sympathized that I didn't get to experience college but made no mention of his own alma mater.
I laugh to myself now when I think about how worthless most degrees are in a true crisis. This isn't a world where you can get by on a white collar education. Strength is power here, and Snake had that.
"You have a girlfriend?" he asked. "You know, before all this?"
"No..." I replied with a little shame. "I actually never had one."
"Really? So you've never....?"
"Had sex....? N-no....."
I realized I'd never said it out loud, probably because it was my deepest insecurity. I knew I was gonna die a virgin and had already come to terms with it, but I certainly didn't want to discuss that with anyone.
Everyone else in our group had wives, girlfriends, complete love lives full of sexual experiences. I would never get to feel the touch of another human, the bond between two souls, and didn't like thinking about it.
"Awww, that's okay," Snake said sympathetically, even going so far as to place his big arm over my shoulder. "Maybe there'll be a nice girl waiting for ya down south."
"We both know that's not true...." I replied dejectedly. "And the only ones left are... Well...."
We both looked quietly to the floor as the horrific rumors of kidnappings and breeding farms haunted our imaginations.
"Hey, let's not think about that," Snake comforted with a squeeze. "But trust me, kid, you won't die a virgin. Promise."
I looked up at him with wide eyes and he gave me a confident grin. I smiled back, happy to have met a friend, and finally one filled with hope.
We strolled idly around the forest for hours shooting the shit. As a gesture of goodwill, Snake even offered to combine some of the big logs he'd already chopped with my meager stack to make it seem like I did more.
"I don't mind at all," he said with his arm still around me. "It's been nice hangin' out with you."
"Yeah, it has been," I responded, lazily letting him pull me in closer.
By the time we got back it was almost sundown and everyone was gathered at the vehicles. As promised, Snake let me split with him and together we brought an impressive haul.
"Here's our contribution," he announced after placing our bounty in the pile.
"Is that what you both brought...?" asked the mayor hesitantly, unsure of the protocol for the situation. "Together...?"
"Yes, together," Snake affirmed, then came back to where I was standing and put his arm around me.
I was a little uncomfortable because although I had asked for this, I didn't realize he meant it so literally. In a tribal society like ours, pulling your own weight is paramount. Values like self-reliance and self-preservation were all we had, but now it felt like I was part of some forced duo, and an unequal one at that!
A few guys looked over at me with cocked eyebrows and some others even snickered as I stood meekly under Snake's big arm. I wasn't sure why I stayed silent and let him lead me, but by the time I thought to react the opportunity was gone.
"Whoever got the wood, let's get you guys on fire and dinner duty."
I was never great at making fires but once again Snake saved the day.
