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(Firstly, we will respect and honor the women we take into our care. Their protection is our responsibility and their presence is our gift.)
There's rules to the thing, yeah?
No smacking 'em around, no gangbangs. They're off limits when they're bleeding. They get one night to themselves a week and after they're six months gone, they don't have to fuck anyone again until 8 weeks after the baby is born.
The men agreed to that and more, made concessions for their future dearies' comfort. They had to before the Major would send out the lure for their trap.
Hadn't compromise made the world go 'round?
Mitchell didn't care about that. He never gave a shit about having kids either, but he wouldn't have stayed on here without the hope of having a woman again. If the Major hadn't thought this scheme up, he would have left and found one on his own. Maybe he would've run into Selena's crew then.
Could have had her all to yourself, lad, a little voice murmured. He shook the thought off. It didn't matter. He had her now.
Mitchell liked doing this in the back pantry. The one that used to be full of rations, but had been bare for awhile now. Sex in the common areas was another thing they'd agreed not to do, but they were alone so he figured it wasn't really breaking the rules. It was just fucking impossible to keep his hands off her sometimes. Even when it wasn't his turn to touch.
Now that was a 100% against the code, fucking her on another man's day, but he still reached between them to get his cock out. Still licked her palm and sucked her fingers so he could use her hand to pull himself off a few times. He was already hard and leaking, he just liked the look of her hand on him.
She stared at nothing as he rutted into her loose fist. His thrusts growing uneven and he forced himself to stop. Jittery with the desire to finish and the need for more of her. Mitchell rested his forehead against her temple and reached between her legs. Disinterested as she seemed, Selena was wet for him. Wasn't that proof? She wanted this, she wanted him. Mitchell thumbed her clit as he lined himself up and began nudging his way inside.
"Aw…" he moaned and slowed down. There wasn't time for this, but he made the time because this was his favorite part. When he hit bottom. She always felt so fucking good. "There you are, sweetheart."
Selena’s jaw clenched at the endearment, but she kept her peace and there was no time to push her for more. Mitchell palmed her tits and moved roughly now. Sharp, quick thrusts that felt so good they damn near made his eyes roll back. He 'ought to keep his mouth shut, but he couldn't help whispering against her neck. The sound of his own voice excited him further. "You hear that? So slippery already," he groaned. "Been wanting my cock, have you?"
She still didn't respond, but when he kissed the curve of her jaw and grasped her elbows to pull her in closer, she batted his hands away. The full fury of her gaze finally on him. She hated the sweet shit. When he tried to cuddle or slow down and enjoy the ride. He liked when she lashed out. When the angry bint who'd shown up two years ago made an appearance.
He wrestled her arms behind her back as she snapped at him wildly. Feral.
Mitchell grinned.
There you are, sweetheart.
(No man will attempt to form a deeper bond with any specific woman. They are here to contribute to the happiness of the entire regiment.)
Jones always had a rat face and it's only gotten rattier. The flesh now soft and saggy at his jowls and hollowed out cheeks.
"I don't know," he seemingly said to himself while shooting quick glances at Mitchell's face. The wide slash of his mouth turned up at the corners. "It's been a while. Maybe I ought to keep this. Start looking after myself better, you know?"
Time was Mitchell would've popped him one and took what he wanted, but things had been tense 'round the house and the last thing he wanted was to kick something off. He took a deep breath.
"You a welsher, Private?" Even now, Jones' rank made him stand up taller in his baggy fatigues. "A deal's a deal, innit?"
Jones studied him for a moment longer than sighed. "I guess," he muttered and shuffled to his lockbox. Reluctantly handing over a plastic bag.
So for three cigs, a pair of boots with the sole coming free and a moth-eaten blanket, Mitchell's got a full bottle of conditioner, some flowery smelling body wash and a pair of leggings with a hole at the knee. To be honest, he'd caught the short end of the stick with this one, but Mitchell can't be fucked to bargain much these days.
( We promise to uphold the mantle of order and civility bestowed upon us when we took our oaths of service.)
Mitchell only enlisted because he had no place else to go. His parents wanted him out, he had a few spent convictions and no head for more schooling. He figured the army was as good as anything else.
The military is society reduced to its' barest essentials. Food in your belly, a roof over your head, a blanket 'round your shoulders and a gun in your hand.
When you think of it that way, the end of civilization wasn't much different.
Mitchell barely ate those first few weeks, he barely slept, he didn't have to. He didn't think of his parents or of old friends either. Living in the city center, they were most likely dead already. Good riddance.
When they wiped out most of his regiment, it was easy to forget them too. He was free. Free to sink into the apocalyptic hellscape around him and work toward his true purpose.
Then Major West appeared, took control of the few remaining soldiers, and moved them out here to the middle of nowhere.
The man had Mitchell fooled for a time. A mean cunt wrapped in a civil package. Someone who seemed like he understood this not so new world of theirs and who could survive in it. Someone respectable who could, if their time ever came, spin the things they’d done into something else. Something necessary and unavoidable. What a shame West ended up like the rest. A pretentious twat who thought he was better than everyone. An idiot who couldn’t be bothered to get his hands dirty and was all about protocol, scheduled patrols, pointless drills. Even killing the things had become mindless. Nothing but a head-shot from the upstairs balcony. It was driving Mitchell mad.
But the girls were here, Selena was here, and that made it bearable.
Mitchell had never been good at hiding his interest and it had caused trouble with women before. The unwavering eye of his attention. It made them tetchy. They told their bosses and their daddies and the MPS.
Selena stared back as he watched her from across the dinner table unblinkingly. Her hard gaze a welcome challenge.
She never became routine. Never bored him and, with the Major barely leaving his rooms these days, there was no one for Selena to tell. No one to pull him back from his purpose. No one who would dare try.
(‘For Queen and Country’ will remain our priority.)
They were eating dinner when something tripped the wire at the gate, striking the already quiet table completely still. Their minds immediately on high alert as they waited and finally heard the doorbell rang for the first time in over six months. Mitchell let out a shaky breath. The diseased come from the forest, they don't knock at the front door.
Though human visitors led to other problems. There was no space for more survivors. No food either.
The bell rang again and Mitchell rolled his eyes as he stood. "I'll take care of it."
No one offered to help and that was well and good. He preferred doing it alone. He walked to the front slowly and smiled bright when he opened it to find two men, dirty but excited to find people, standing there.
"Thank, Christ," the older one muttered.
"We were sure you lot had to have moved on by now, but..." He faltered and a blond who looked about Mitchell's age continued.
"There's nothing in the city. We had to keep moving."
"Well we're happy to have ya, boyos," he greeted warmly. "We're eating dinner now and are more than happy to share but, not trying to insult you, we can't let you in until you've been sprayed down. We have to do what we can, yeah?"
The men nodded quickly, looking over his shoulder greedily where he knew the mirror at his back reflected part of the dining room. When Mitchell turned, he caught Selena's eye before she dropped her gaze.
"Walk 'round to the lawn out back. There's a hose, some soap and clean kit for each of you," Mitchell said. "Just knock on the back door when you're through and I'll let you in."
"Thank you so much," they said and started walking in the direction Mitchell pointed them. He closed the door with a sigh and started up to the second floor balcony. He wondered if he'd have to use his shooter or if the machine gun was still loaded.
(This event may very well be traumatizing to the women. We will do whatever necessary to make their transition easier.)
Hannah and Selena were never to be left alone together. In the beginning, it was to prevent them running off. Now it was just a habit.
“Where are you--”
Mitchell shushed her and pulled Selena down the hall quickly. This was probably the dumbest idea he'd had lately, but since the incident with Clifton, both he and Hannah had been locked away. The girl was with the Major in his quarters, Clifton in the basement awaiting his punishment. She hadn’t been allowed to eat at the table as usual or wander the house in her free time. When Mitchell noticed West running drills in the yard and realized she was alone, he acted before he could think.
"Should we…" She started when he pulled her into the Major’s quarters, but when she saw the other girl, Selena pulled out of his grasp and ran to her. Mitchell shifted to close the door as the two hugged.
“You got five minutes.”
They ignored him, checking each other over and smiling in a way they only did in one another's company.
After checking the room, Mitchell glanced over the girl casually. Hannah had popped in the last week or so, her round belly making him strangely uncomfortable. She already had one, a boy the Major kept apart from everyone and who Mitchell could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen. Selena had yet to give birth. Never been pregnant at all as far as anyone could tell. Whether that was by the hand of God or her own, only Selena knew.
Didn't bother him either way, though it did a few of the others.
That was good for Mitchell, less time he had to spend without her, because Hannah had never really done it for him. Too wee, too young, too soft for his personal tastes. Didn't keep him from pulling straws for her that first week. He was owed a leg over just like the rest. Mitchell shook the thought off and moved to watch his regiment through the window. The only reason he wasn't down there sweating with them was because it was his turn to protect the perimeter of the house.
Focused as he was on making sure they didn't get caught, he barely paid mind to the girls speaking behind him. Too low and fast to follow. He didn't need to hear amyway, he had a good idea of the plots they were dreaming up.
Let them whisper about escape, about burning the place down, about murdering the whole lot of them. He guessed they might deserve it, but the fact was, they were safer inside than out there and they both knew it. The chits wouldn't budge if they left the door open.
He watched the men below with a downturned mouth and checked his watch. Let them have their chatter.
(That being said, the women will be expected to return the respect that has been afforded them.)
Like his fellow soldiers, the girls had certain rules they promised to follow when dealing with the men. Selena appearing for her night with Mitchell with the last gits spend congealing on her thighs was… frowned upon, as the Major might say.
It was the closest he's ever come to hitting her. Even in the beginning when getting her to stop trying to starve herself to death to spite them or sleep without passing out from exhaustion had been a battle. He'd actually respected that. This…
Mitchell took a deep breath, then another as he focused on relaxing his stance and unclenching his fist. He didn't know what had her dander up. Was it the visit to Hannah? Maybe they had planned something? Maybe he should’ve paid closer attention to what they were saying.
"Let's hop in the bath, shall we?"
She wasn't expecting that. The endlessly bored look she wore dropped for a moment as she watched him with narrowed eyes. Mitchell grabbed the bag he'd bartered for and nodded toward the bathroom. He thought she would argue, she usually did, but Selena went without a word and was pulling her clothes off before he could tell her to.
That was another power play on her end. There were never tears or shouts when it came down to it. She thought this gave her the upper hand. Mitchell didn’t care as long as he got to see her with her kit off.
He opened the bag and tossed the bottles of body wash and conditioner over. She couldn't hide her shock. They had stockpiles of Freshscent, but nothing a woman might have used in the outside world.
It took her a moment to rally herself. “Not my usual brand.”
“Leave a honey-do list next time if you want something specific.”
Selena rolled her eyes as she popped the cap, but there was something warm about it. A lightness that didn’t usually exist between them. Mitchell grinned and leaned against the sink as he watched her. He knew all this had been a calculated move to make him angry. He was pretty sure it started with bringing her to Hannah, but maybe he was wrong on her reasoning. In situations like this, between a man and a woman, Mitchell had learned to give a person's reasoning more weight than he usually would.
“If you got out of here with her," he said coolly. "You’d never make it alone.”
“We’d have each other.”
"Women have limitations.” Mitchell smiled. “I think you know that better than some."
She turned on him quickly, taking the bait. "I don't need anyone."
"That's where you're wrong, darlin'. Most animals, prey and predator both, have a pack."
"We aren't animals."
Mitchell gave her a look. She knew better. "Cavemen had a clan, back in the beginning of everything. I have my unit. You had Hannah--"
"Right," she cut him off with before he could say more. Mitchell watched her soap up her thighs with interest. "Were you alone before that?"
Selena opened the faucet and tilted her head under the spray, neatly avoiding his question.
"In trying times like these,” he went on, "we need someone watching our backs. But we have to pick the right ones 'cause there's always someone stronger. That's why your boy died alone, crying in the mud.” His words sent a jolt she obviously wasn't prepared to take. Selena’s whole body went rigid. “That's why Hannah's pregnant and why you're here in this bathroom with me. Because you weren't strong enough to protect each other."
She emptied her face of all emotion, but he knew it for the mask it was. She didn't speak again that night and it felt like loss, like victory.
(The women will not take part in military drills. They will contribute to the household in other ways.)
Selena with a gun in her hand was a dream and a nightmare. Mitchell watched her hold his service weapon and shifted uncomfortably. Letting the girls handle a weapon was so obviously against the rules that it went without saying. Then again, what the boys didn't know wouldn't hurt them.
"Ever held one?"
He remembers he hadn't expected it to be so heavy that first time. To feel so perfect in his hands.
"Hmmm," she finally intoned, then pulled back the slide. Mitchell automatically flinched, his heart fairly beating out of his chest. She couldn't shoot him. He's not daft, he double--triple--checked the empty chamber before handing it over. There was no magazine. He just-- Mitchell felt his face go hot as he straightened up and took a step toward her.
"Try anything and your brains will be on the wall."
It wasn't the outcome he wanted for her, but he meant it.
Selena studied him, carefully blank but obviously thinking. Always looking for a fucking angle to work. She raised her brow and, finally, placed the weapon on the table between them.
(Any relationship that may form between a soldier and a woman that is deemed to be beyond the parameters of friendship, will be dealt with accordingly.)
Selena trembled as he ran his nose along the length of her inner thigh. The leggings she wore threadbare enough to feel like they were skin to skin already.
Mitchell smiled. He'd always liked this bit of it. The heat of them under his lips, the musky, earthy smell of them making his cock go hard and his head go soft at the same time.
He'd missed it, though he'd never tried it with her before now. Contrary to popular opinion, Mitchell didn't have a death wish, and he's sure she'd have brained him the second he put his head between her thighs back then. But he's had an idea circulating about the lovely Selena lately. That the tough bitch exterior was just that. A shell he could crack when he felt like it. If he struck it at just the right angle.
He pulled her leggings off easily and she was bare before him. She'd always been skinny, but she was bones now. Half starved like the rest of them. Her hips in sharp relief against his palms, her ribs on display, her eyes slightly sunken. She was painful to look at. Too beautiful to look away from.
He set his mouth to her inner thigh lightly, resisted the powerful urge to do more. Selena was still for long moments, then shifted against his mouth. He pulled at the skin beneath his lips gently. He squeezed her outer thighs in encouragement and she pushed up against his face.
Okay, he thought, and set to work.
She'd always been miserly about showing her pleasure. Had never made noise. He knew she prided herself on it. Her silence. On keeping the only thing she could away from him. He could hear her now. Quiet groans as she grinded up against him.
Mitchell's knees dug into the parkay floor uncomfortably, his shoulders were tense, his lower back hurt. Still, he stayed where he was, afraid any minute change would allow her to regain her senses. He could spread her out and look his fill later. Roll her nipples in his palms and suck bruises onto her thighs all he liked. He'd make sure to use his cock on her after so he could see that pretty face when he made her finally admit she liked it. Liked everything he'd ever done to her.
Mitchell moaned into her thigh. Relaxed his hold on her, softened his tongue further. He caressed along the length of her sides and she pulled one knee up towards her chest, opening herself up for him.
He laughed, nearly breathless, absolutely delighted, then bent to use his tongue since he couldn't use his cock. "Good girl."
Her jaw clenched at that, but she didn't try to move away from him.
Gently, gently. He kept at it until she started to gasp and tense the thigh on his shoulder.
You hate the sweet shit, huh?
He almost said it, but he knew the moment she heard his voice, the spell would break. Her breath came in shutters as she jerked hard and came shaking. He was panting when she kicked him away and pulled herself into a ball, face hidden behind her knees.
She was shaking, and for a moment he was sure she was laughing at him. Pure rage flooded through him as he got to his feet. She'd liked it and now she was trying to play it off. Trying to humiliate him. Mitchell stepped forward, ready to make her admit otherwise before he took a second look. She wouldn't drop her hands. Her breaths were short, as if she were on the edge of hyperventilating…
Not laughter.
Tears.
Mitchell swallowed harshly and fell back a step, something he couldn't name tightening in his chest.
(Above all, we will remain a unit.)
He wouldn't share her ever again. Mitchell would kill every fucker there first.
(Anyone who breaks these rules will be dealt with accordingly.)
Clifton knew better when he fucked Hannah. She’d been six months gone with someone's kid by then and that was the golden rule. The one everyone had better follow or else. Clifton’s or else was a bullet to the head and the men’s teeth were chattering. There was talk of the Major losing it. Of mutiny.
He'd be damned before he hung around waiting for this pack of muppets to blow the place sky high.
Mitchell came back to his room and started throwing things into his pack as Selena watched. It wasn't his night to have her, but he hadn't let her leave his quarters for three days now. Any other time, he would’ve already been tossed into the basement for it.
“We have to go.”
“We?”
“Food is gone and the Major just blew Clifton’s bloody head off.” That got her attention. She sat up slowly as he continued. “It's about to go south. We don't want to be here for it.”
Selena narrowed her eyes at him. “I haven't seen one of those things in months."
Mitchell blinked at the sudden change in topic. "What're you on about?"
"They're gone? The infected?"
Ah. Mitchell took a breath and crossed his arms over his chest. He could keep up the charade, but there should be no lies between them now. “In this area, yeah. A fair bit of them.”
He expected her to fly at him, but she still got in a hit or two before he was able to pin her arms. "Relax!”
“Fuck you! You fucking liars!"
“Where's the calvary, Selena?" he sneered, getting in her face. "Seen any Americans swooping down in helicopters to save us? Heard any Germans on the radio waves? Either this thing has spread and killed us all or they've washed their hands and left us to rot. Whether the infected have all starved to death or not doesn't make a fucking lick of difference.”
She jerked away from him and raked her hand through her hair, agitated. “Hannah.”
"Can't get to her."
"Can't or you don’t want to bother trying?"
"Both,” he admitted. “West has his little sweetie locked up tight. We’ll never be able to get her out of there without sounding every alarm in the house."
Selena shook her head. "I won't leave her. I can’t!"
"Don't be fucking daft!" he yelled. "How far do you think we'd get with a pregnant woman and a bawling kid on our damn backs?”
Selena had to understand that. If nothing else, his girl was a survivor. But everyone had a weakness, and Hannah was the only person he’d ever seen her knees knock for. Her eyes went glassy as she turned away. Still shaking her head.
He stepped closer, brought his hand to the side of her throat and used his thumb to tilt her chin downward until their gazes met. “It’s just you and me now darlin’, but don’t worry. I’m gonna get you out of here. Then we're gonna find a nice little fuckin' place somewhere.”
“No," she said, voice low. "I won't.”
Mitchell took a breath. "We'll talk later. Just relax." He was proud of himself as he said it. The hand at her throat never moved to squeeze.
(Remember, in trying times like these, we can only stay the course and remain true. Together, we will survive.)
When they set out that night, the grass was covered in a light frost, but their feet barely made a sound.