“If he shared more, I wouldn’t have to ask around,” I complained.
“That’s why we call him Cipher.”
The man in question had disappeared into the forest to scout our path to the river, so I dropped back to where Macon was bringing up the rear. Of them all, he seemed the most knowledgeable on all things Cipher, and he was willing to talk. According to him, Cipher did like boys, and though Macon had never known him to have had a boyfriend, he thought he might be open to the possibility.
“What’s his type?” I asked.
Macon screwed up his face. “About this tall,” he said, placing his hand at the top of my head, “curly-haired, smart-mouthed, cat-lover.”
I shoved his shoulder. “You’re just describing me.”
“Exactly.”
“You think he likes me?” I’d thought so too, but then, there weren’t a whole lot of options out here in what they called “Rabid Country.” I did wake up yesterday morning with Cipher’s stiffy poking into my back, but as soon as I shifted to rub on it a little, he jumped out of bed like his hair was on fire. And last night, he seemed very much Not Interested. In fact, he kind of Hurt My Feelings.
I used to dream that a handsome, tattooed stud would come roaring into my neighborhood on a Harley Davidson, or maybe even a horse. Obviously, he’d be thirsty from his travels and in need of fresh drinking water, which I would happily provide, and it would just so happen that he had room on his motorcycle-slash-horse for one more, so I’d climb on top of his preferred mode of transportation, grab hold of his thick, muscular middle, and hold on for dear life as he spirited me away from my loneliness. And we would go on our Great Adventure, which would include sexy times, where he would be patient, but also very knowledgeable, and it would be the Best Sex Ever, our first time and every time after.
Cipher had rescued me from my lonesomeness and defended me with his life. I liked it when he held me close and ruffled my hair and I even liked it when he teased me. I loved his hands and his smile, the smell of him when we were cuddled up together in our sleeping bags. I wanted to kiss him and nuzzle his neck and play with his hair and rub his erection against mine, see what his dick felt like in my hands and maybe even in my mouth, and I just… wanted him.
“I know he likes you,” Macon said, “but Cipher’s not going to be the one to make the first move.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s a pussy,” he said, then glanced up to make sure Artemis hadn’t heard him say it.
I said to Macon, “I tried wearing a skimpy dress and he ran away. I showed him my boner, and he told me to go take care of it myself. I thought maybe he wasn’t into guys, but you’re telling me he is, so maybe he’s just not into me.”
“Oh, he’s interested. I can guar-an-tee it.”
“He has a weird way of showing it. I don’t know what else to do. I’m running out of ideas. And this constant rejection is really not good for my self-esteem.”
Macon smiled and squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t worry, short stack. I got you.”
* * *
A little while later,still following the path Cipher laid out for us, Cipher suddenly reappeared, running toward us as if a swarm of bees were chasing him, though even moving rapidly through the forest, he hardly made any noise. He signaled for all of us to be quiet and then pulled Artemis, Macon, and Teresa into a huddle. I could only hear fragments of their conversation, but it sounded like we were not alone in the woods. It wasn’t Rabids this time, but raiders. And they didn’t sound friendly.
“There’s only one place to safely cross the river, and they’re guarding it,” Cipher said.
“Are they armed?” Artemis asked.
“Yes, with guns.”
“How many?”
“Three men that I’ve identified, all with assault rifles.”
“Can you take them alone?”
“Maybe.”
“I can help,” Macon said.
The four of them devised a plan. Gizmo seemed nervous but not upset that he’d been left out of the conversation. I also didn’t know what I could add, especially because I was frozen with fear and feeling very much like the new guy. Cipher had shown me a few more basic defensive and attacking moves since the Christmas house, but I didn’t feel at all prepared to fight people with guns. Knowing this was a danger was different from confronting it head-on.
I caught the last bit of their conversation when Cipher said to Teresa, “You know what to do. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got you.”
She nodded, blinking rapidly as if she were about to cry. Cipher came over to me, grabbed both my shoulders and leaned in so that I could hear. “Stay at the back of the pack, as much out of sight as you can. Donotleave the huddle. Trust us to handle it, okay?”
