The Eros Plague Epoch

Pulling up the drive backward, I watched the road ahead carefully, making sure to back around the house so that the truck was out of sight of the road, but I could still get moving at a run if I needed. Faith was lying about her friends, that was for damn sure. I could expect a visit sooner than later.

We went through what remained of the house with my flashlight, and I closed the door to her brother's bedroom, the entire outer wall burned away. The part of her story about her father was true enough judging by the burnt skeletons.

Her things were all smoky, but she took some clothes, tossing a few into a backpack in a bedroom that looked like the textbook definition of a good little church girl gone bad.

A big gold cross on the wall, pink four poster bed, and a smattering of increasingly parent-angering band posters. I could hear the outdoors with the burned out walls, and no sign of engines or motors yet.

"Let's go, we need to hit the road," I was getting nervous. The ambush was coming, I was sure of it. I wasn't' sure if she was planning her getaway or linking up with her crew, but I wasn't eager to find out.

"Why are you even here still," she asked as she crammed clothes in her bag, "you promised to get me here, your conscience is clear." She pushed past me into a small bathroom, rummaging around and grabbing things. It dawned on me that she was packing a go bag, I'd certainly seen it done enough.

"I promised to get you somewhere safe," I held my light so she could see, "this is not safe." Somewhere in the distance, I heard the put-put-put of a two stroke engine. "You sure they wont check for you here, Faith?"

Faith sagged, looking at me and zipping her bag, "yes."

I sighed, and grabbed Faith, throwing her over my shoulder as she shouted.

The motors were closing, and the lights of the shitty dune buggy stretched long across the road as they neared.

Faith howled rage at the night sky. I'd used the police handcuffs I'd found to secure her to the door of dad's pickup while she spat and hollered at me. Thankfully, at 6'1" I was an able to manhandle her to it easily.

She'd spat in my face, and I'd responded by kissing her hard on the lips, and smearing her spit across her face.

"Sorry, it helps sell things," I told her, winding duct tape over her mouth. "I'll take that off once we're safe."

The buggy rolled up the hill, and another car, a ridiculous super-sized black pickup, parked across the drive. Smart. Someone had a little bit of training, or maybe played a lot of military video games.

With just the snub-nosed in my pocket, I'd need to be stealthy. Wet wipes weren't the only thing I kept in Dad's glove box, and the black k-bar I'd left the service with had been right where I left it under the owners manual, fitting on my belt just like it ever did.

Two of them got out of the buggy, both carrying hunting rifles. They had lanterns, and shone them around, blowing their night vision. The one in the truck across the drive was smarter, and he kept it dark, and seemed to be carrying a heavier rifle.

Laughter rang out as they came across Faith, and she squealed with rage as they made lewd jokes.

"Giving up more than that ass for this one, bitch," a voice that sounded like an overgrown teenage boy rang out and cackled.

I'd gotten around the far end of the driveway by then, having set up on the passengers side of the driveway. The smart one was leaning against his truck, arms crossed, the rifle sitting on the ground, pointing up. Not so smart after all.

The two from the buggy were spreading out around the property, looking for me like they were playing hide and seek.

"Hey there stranger, where you at? Hidey-hoooo."

My new friend was leaning on the passenger side hood of the truck, watching his idiot buddies, so I slipped around the front of the car, bursting forward as I rounded to his side. The tip of the knife went into his neck, and he gurgled as it twisted.

The rifle was nice, thirty-ought-six, there was a sight that would be handy in a pinch, but was pointless this close, and I snapped it off, stuffing it into my pocket. The flashlights were still shining around, casting the idiots clear outlines in the bright lights of the dune buggy. Faith had seen some of what I did, and was raging from under the duct tape her asshole boyfriend had left on while he threatened to 'spin her around and take what was his.'

"One, two, buckle my shoe," I whispered and exhaled just like Grandad taught me. The boyfriend's head popped like a zit, and as the rapport faded, "three, four, knock at the door," another shot and the driver of the dune buggy collapsed in a heap as he turned to me, looking surprised.

I ignored Faith for the time being, figuring she'd need time to calm down. The truck went into the woods across the way, and the dune buggy shortly after it. I'd found a bit of ammo for the rifle, and a the nice cop glock I'd traded for gas on the boyfriend with a clip and a spare on him. The bodies went in the cab of the truck before it went into the woods.

By the time I was done, I trudged back to my pickup where Faith had slid to the ground and wept, tearing off the duct tape. She immediately started sobbing.

"What in the fuck w-w-was that," she wailed, "are you some kind of psycho?"

I fished the keys to the cuffs out of my pocket and stood in front of her, sucking my teeth.

"Nope." I threw back my jacket and rolled up a sleeve, shining one of the lantern lights on my unit tattoo. "Veteran, special forces."

She went back to crying. "Please don't kill me-e-e-eeeee."

I unlocked the cuffs, snapping them off her wrists gently, "I don't plan to. You expect any more of them to come looking?"

Faith sniffled and rubbed her wrist, "I don't think anyone else will come. I just work with those three, and this is their road to work."

"Okay," I reached into the back of the truck and grabbed one of the packs of granola bars, handing it to her. "That ought to hold you."

I walked around the truck, climbing up into the passenger seat and starting the engine. Faith leapt up and tried the locked door, slapping the window, her red hair tossing in the breeze as she shouted.

"Hey!" Slap slap, "hey, where are you going?"

I reached over and cracked her window, "I'm leaving. You wanted me to get you here, you set me up twice, and now your boyfriend and his buddies aren't a problem. You're safe."

She slammed the box of granola bars on the window, "the fuck? You think I'm safe?"

"As much as you can be," I shot back, and took my foot off the break, rolling forward. Faith started banging on the window again, jogging along the side of the car.

"Wait goddammit!!!"

I pressed the brake.

"What? You want to yell at me some more?"

Tears streamed down Faith's face, "no, come on, please just let me in the car. If they do come looking, the dad, Joseph, he really will make me turn tricks. Please, Cal!"

Pressing my hands to my face, I cursed myself. This was exactly the kind of thing that I didn't need. I needed to be getting to the island where Gil was with Hannah and Bailey.

"Cal!" Faith was keeping at it, slapping the window. "Cal please, I'll blow you again! Please! You can touch me, you can... fuck, you can fuck me up the ass, please Cal!" She was frantic, for real frantic. No matter what else was a lie, she wasn't kidding about being scared of the greasy mechanic.

Knowing better of it, I reached over and popped up the lock.

"Fine."

She climbed into the cab and bolted to me, "thank you, I know I lied, but I swear I'll be good, I swear," she pulled her shirt off, exposing those tasty tits to me, "you can play with them while I suck you off." I put my hand on her mouth to shut her up.

"You don't have to give me anything, Faith. I need to get you someplace safe. Do you have any family in the area," I asked her tiredly.

Faith shrugged, drawing a hand down one side of her face, "I... I guess my mom's best friend, June. She's a real ball buster, but if she's alive, it's probably the safest place I could be. It's maybe an hour away?"

I nodded, that sounded good. I rolled down the driveway and we drove in silence for a few minutes until I found a nice, shady little rest site to pull into.

Faith had put her top back on, but the adrenaline had worn off, and I was tired. I needed a few winks, and fended her off when she made a move to go down on me.

"This is the deal; I need some sleep, and I don't trust you," I held up the handcuffs, "so you're going to sleep cuffed to the door. I think you know I won't do anything out of line by now." She looked exasperated, and jutted her lower jaw, folding over on herself.

"Fuck, fine."

"In the morning," I continued, "once we're ready to hit the road, we'll get you over to Auntie June's and hope there's someone there to take you in."

Grudgingly, she allowed me to loop the handcuffs around the heavy door handle, and put it on her wrists. I avoided making them painfully tight, but she wouldn't be getting out of them while I slept. Faith huffed, "this is so stupid. You could just rape me and I couldn't get away."

"I like a good lay, Faith, but I don't like that." I balled up my jacket to put my head on and closed my eyes, "let's just start with being pleasant and not trying to get me killed. If you behave yourself, we can talk options." I held a granola bar out to her, "eat something."

She shook her head and turned away, "no. I'm still full." I tried to think of what she'd eaten that evening, and seeing the confusion on my face, she reddened and looked ashamed. "From before."

I decided to let it go.

*

In the morning, we got moving with the help of a shower at the rest stop. It was a glorified campground, and the water came from a well, proudly solar powered judging by the signs, so it still worked, thankfully.

No cars or people had passed us all night, and I strolled out of the showers set back in the woods to find Faith drying herself behind the pickup to shield herself from the road. She wore a pair of pink hotpant undies, and was bent over, drying her hair.

I whistled appreciatively, and she whipped around, covering herself with the towel she'd grabbed from her bedroom.

"Asshole," she spat, "don't sneak up on me."

I shook my head and laughed, "I think you knew I'd be coming from that way."

She still shot me a dirty look, and went back to drying her hair, but made sure to put the towel over her bare breasts. Meanwhile, I opened the back of the truck and grabbed some clean clothes.

"So tell me," I dropped my towel to put on some boxers, and I caught her staring at my half-mast cock (it seemed to be constantly half-hard since I'd woken up under the stairs), "you were the ministers daughter breaking bad, right?"

Faith rolled her eyes, "yeah, I guess," she was putting on a grumpy face, but I saw her lick her lips as my prick bounced in the air. Transfixed, she took a step toward me.

I pulled a clean pair of jeans on, not bothering to zip them yet, "is that what all the blowjobs and butt-sex are about? I heard that asshole talking about it, and you mentioned it too."

Unable to help herself, Faith nodded, still staring at my shorts and the v of my fly, "yeah, uh, I was the good little ministers daughter for a long time-"

"Hence your oral skills, okay," I intentionally stretched, pulling my waist as far out of the jeans as I could while I pulled on a tshirt, exposing my treasure trail to her, "but the anal?"

Faith had stopped in front of me, still wearing just her undies. The towel was forgotten on the ground behind her, and a flush of arousal was washing over her tight body.

"It's the sex god doesn't see... good Christian girls don't break the rules." Her small hand ran along my hip, tracing the scar from a knife swipe years back. Faith's breasts were heaving.

"Hmm, not for me," I mused. "I'm not exactly equipped for it." It was true. I'd tried anal with girlfriends a handful of times, but my girth alone made it hell for them, and I much preferred the pleasurable squeals of a pussy-fuck than the painful ones of anal.

"Yeah," Faith breathed, transfixed by my growing erection, "I can see how that'd be the..." and trailed off as she reached for my cock.

Rock hard again, I did nothing to stop her, but I did reach out and cup her face in my hand, letting my thumb play on her lower lip. She begun sucking my thumb it without thinking. This must be what she meant about female survivors being wiling. The girl was hypnotized by my erection, fingers Traci g up and down it.

"You ever actually had real sex," I asked her, knowing the answer. My other hand was playing with her breasts now, she seemed to love it, and pressed her torso into my big palm, moaning slightly as she shook her head.

"Just once."

"What about you, did you enjoy that?" She shook her head. "Maybe he went down on you? Made sure you had a good time too?"

"No" she whispered.

I let my hand slip to her belly, tickling along her round hip bones, and pulling her close as her little hands slipped into my shorts, pushing them and my jeans to my knees. I stopped her from dropping with them, and pressed my length along her belly. "Doesn't that feel nice and hot?"

Faith nodded, her mouth open slightly, her eyes glazed. No wonder she was so bitchy. She'd probably never had a proper orgasm. She was certainly ready for it. She pressed her mouth to my chest, licking my nipple, making tiny bolts of pleasure surge through me straight to my cock. This girl was bursting to be mounted and mated.

We stood at the back of the open hatchback of my truck, and Faith's pretty redhead locks, still wet from the shower bounced lightly as she tried to work lower than my abs. Her hands were both wrapped around my cock, slowly stroking it as she made frustrated noises that I wouldn't let her go down on me.

"Wait, Faith," I asked kindly, holding her at her sides, feeling the youthful muscle across her back and ribs flex as she insistently tried to bring her mouth to my hardon. She looked up at me, slightly annoyed, but fully in her gauzy, glazed state of intense lust. "Can you let me do something for you?"

I swear to god I meant well, and she hesitated, but nodded, pressing her face back to my chest as I hooked her under her arms and raised her to the tailgate of the pickup, placing that ripe, juicy ass on the hard plastic. Faith gasped. It was an older pickup, lower to the ground than the modern ones that would've had her nearly as chest height.

I leaned over her. "You'll like this, I promise," I told her, and slid my hands down her sides, pulling her pink hot pants panties with me. The gusset was soaked through, and I was greeted by the sight of her fiery little muff, a landing strip on the only part of her that wasn't sunkissed, leading to a perfect flowering teenage pussy.

Faith shuddered visibly as I exposed her, the folds and lips of her hungry little snatch glistened with slow flowing lubrication, and her musk filled my nostrils, causing my prick to surge. I touched it, letting my forefinger that she'd sucked out play over her quivering clit, and she nearly exploded.

"Oooooohhhhhhhhnnnnnnn," she moaned as her hips bucked and shook. I held her legs apart as I lowered myself to her snatch, noticing the fine trail of freckles on the skin of her inner thighs, growing in size as they reached her treasure, colouring the outer lips in pale brown spots. I breathed into her shuddering core, making sure she felt the heat of it. Her hands found my face and pushed at me, but I couldn't be deterred. I flattened my tongue and licked her from bottom to the top of her clit with a wide, flat lick that I drew out slowly across her hooded nub.

Faith wailed and spurted, covering my face and chest in her fluid, "aahhhhh fuuuuuuckkkk fuck," she cursed and pulled one leg to my chest, kicking me away hard. "Don't fucking touch me!"

Surprised, I fell back, her red face surging and the freckles along her inner thighs brightening to match. I realized that she had more of them across her body, up the sides of her ribs where I'd been caressing her, and onto her neck.

"I told you I wouldn't fuck you, you piece of shit," she shouted angrily, grabbing a small box of pasta from my scant stores, whipping it at my head with all the force she could muster. "Why couldn't you just be happy getting your dick sucked like a normal asshole?!?"

"I wasn't going to-" I protested as the pasta smashed into my shoulder, but she let out a low shriek of rage as she shimmied angrily into some pants. "Faith, really, I just wanted to make you feel g -"

She swung her backpack, a sturdy canvas bag, and smacked me hard in the forearm with it, pushing me back down to the ground as I tried to stand. "Stay the fuck away from me you old fuck!"

I relented, raising my hands and not making a move as she pulled on her jacket without even putting on a top, and stormed off along the road.

I debated chasing Faith in the truck. She'd headed in the direction I intended to go either way, but I thought better of it, thinking back to her story about her father getting sick, and the reports of the so-called 'crazy ones' she'd mentioned. What I'd heard on the radio back in the city was grim: that they would attack and infect people that had never gotten Freddie. Fluid transfer, was the nice way to say it.

It was all so vague, so steeped in rumours and stories that I didn't honestly know what was true. I had a guess though, and my heart sank as I realized, Faith had probably never had Freddie, but when her dad turned into a crazy one... I felt sick thinking that her mother wasn't the only one that he had attacked.

I'd meant well and she'd been lying through her teeth, she'd been infected against her will, and I'd thought her arousal was a green light that it wasn't. I took my time packing up, I wanted to apologize to her, but I felt that she'd rather get enough time to put some distance, and maybe a trip off-road behind her so that we wouldn't cross paths again.

Shortly, nearly ready to go, I turned to watch when a sedan sped by, weaving around on the road crazily. It looked like three people in it, but I couldn't tell from my sheltered spot, so busy feeling shitty about myself. I packed away the box of pasta, finally summoning the courage to pick it up, stashing it in the box it had been in. Faith's hot pink booty undies were on the ground nearby, and I grabbed them as well. They smelled strongly of her, her arousal, and were still a little damp from earlier.

And then it dawned on me; that car, they might see her.

"Fuck fuck fuck," I raced around the side of the pickup to the driver's side, throwing the door open and leaping in. The engine sputtered to life, Dad's obsession with this old beater he'd bought as a kid and moved he and mom to the city in, her belly out to the dash with me, paying off one more time. I had to catch up to that car, if only on the chance that they'd come across Faith.

The road was, like most of the roads I'd been on along here: pretty empty. Along it was the odd junker, abandoned, or broken down, it was otherwise clear, pale grey with fading white and yellow lines. Most small highways and rural roads in Ontario could have said the same before Freddie, I'd expect. Now all of them could.

Dad's pickup wasn't the fastest thing on wheels, and the sedan I'd seen had been speeding enough that it was mostly a blur of shitty champagne gold, but at least it would be easy to spot in the sea of gunmetal grey, white SUVs and black supersized pickups that were on the roads these days. I knew all too well that time was of the essence if they did happen to see Faith. The chances that they were good samaritans didn't rate in my estimation. I hoped that she would have heard it coming and hidden. I promised myself I would be.