Most nights, Karl slept wrapped around him from behind. It wasn't unusual to wake up with a hard cock in his ass and a hot tongue in his ear. Yet, tonight, after their last meal, Karl didn't come into the hut at all, just sending him ahead, and staying back to talk to Leon. What about, Francesco was curious.
When Karl finally walked in, Francesco was still awake. He waited for the usual routine so that he could go to sleep, but Karl sat on his ass near the door, like he was on guard.
"Hey," Francesco called softly. "Aren't you coming to bed?"
"Not yet."
"Why? What's going on?"
Even in the dark, he could tell when Karl was tense. Any sleep he hoped to get was gone from his mind. His senses kicked in high alert. He walked over to Karl and sat by his side. "Well?" he insisted when the other said nothing.
"Leon noticed some of our traps gone off," Karl explained. "And blood."
"Could be animals, right?"
A shrug followed. "Could be. Animals wearing shoes, heard of something like that? 'Cause they left some pretty interesting tracks on the ground."
Francesco fell silent, and his blood froze. "What?" he croaked.
"Yeah. And that means two things."
"That some people stumbled over those traps. That's one," Francesco agreed. "But what's the second?"
Karl turned his head toward him. "They're new here. We barely have shoes anymore. The fuckers taking Anya that time were barefoot." Even Karl's combat boots were broken at the seams, and one of them lacked half a sole. Francesco's sneakers had almost disintegrated and he wore them as sleepers.
Therefore, he couldn't contradict Karl. "What does that mean?"
"We need to prepare. If there are people still figuring out how to survive, they could want to take over our camp, get a few slaves to fuck and put to work, things like that. They barely got here or else we should have learned about them by now, which means that they're in good shape, and the first pangs of hunger will make them act while they're still fit for battle."
Francesco felt his throat going dry. All this time, he had forgotten how to be afraid. Now, with Karl's words, the reality of their situation struck him. "What are we going to do?"
"For now, we wait. Mouse went on recon."
"Mouse?"
Karl grabbed him by the back of the neck before he had the chance to jump to his feet. "Yes. He knows what to look for and how to go in and out unnoticed. Why the hell do you think he's called Mouse?"
Francesco had to admit that he had never really wondered about it. But still, his stomach was all knots and he couldn't stay still. Karl moved fast to overpower him and caught him underneath his strong body. "You're not going after him if that's what you're thinking."
Francesco went limp under Karl's weight. "Of course not. I have half a brain."
Truth be told, he had no idea what to do. But he felt restless and scared.
"I'll protect you," Karl said. "All of you." He caressed Francesco's face but in an absentminded manner which could only mean that he had a bunch of things on his mind without having to deal with a scared shitless crybaby.
"How many could they be, these people?" he asked, his throat dry and scratchy.
"More than two, for sure. But we cannot know if their group isn't larger. That chopper doesn't bother for an inmate or two, right?"
It wasn't a real question since they could both guess the answer. New people on the island, hungry, waiting for the right moment to strike. Francesco didn't feel prepared at all, no matter how much they had worked for months to protect their camp with traps and whatnot.
Karl let him go, and he returned to bed. "You should catch some sleep. No way of telling when you'll get to do that again if they're on us."
"Like I could sleep," Francesco protested.
"Suit yourself. I will."
"You're standing there, on your ass. How the hell are you sleeping?"
"I have my methods. Don't you worry about me. Until Mouse comes back with what he knows, no point in wasting energy. Sleep, Cesco."
"Can I at least sleep by your side? Or better, why don't you come to bed?"
Karl huffed in irritation. "Sometimes I wonder why I needed a wife in the first place."
"I'm not a wife, but a hole to fuck," Francesco replied, just as pissed off.
"Holes," Karl cared to correct him. He turned and rested his back against one of the walls. "Come here, Cesco."
Francesco moved again and sat by Karl's side. He didn't protest when Karl pushed him down until his head rested in the guy's lap. Still, when a rough hand brushed through his hair in a clumsy caress, he gasped in surprise.
"What now?" Karl asked roughly.
