Macon lifted each of their weapons and shook his head. “No ammo.”
“Fucking dumbasses,” Cipher said. “I’m down to three bullets. Hopefully there isn’t any more of this bullshit before Atlanta.”
Cipher continued to hold me while he and Artemis discussed whether to bury the bodies or leave them to decompose on the ground. Then Artemis led Teresa, Gizmo, and me to the river to have lunch and go for a swim. The weather was hot and the water refreshing, but I experienced it all in a sort of daze. The forest was so pretty–birds chirping, insects buzzing, and wildflowers blooming all around us–but it was hard to reconcile our peaceful surroundings with the brutality of what just happened.
Macon and Cipher returned a while later to wash up. Judging from the dirt streaked across their arms and faces, they must have decided on a burial.
“We’ll cross the river and camp on the other side tonight,” Cipher said. “Head out in the morning.”
The mood around the campfire that night was subdued. I was sitting so close to Cipher that I was practically in his lap, but he didn’t push me away. Even though it felt a little selfish, I needed to be near him. Macon produced a bottle of what he called “emergency tequila” and even though I liked it even less than the whiskey, it did help numb the horrors of the day. This had been worse than the Rabids because those were real, rational people. The Rabids couldn’t help what they had become, but those men could.
“Are all people like that?” I asked Cipher. I hadn’t really known anyone outside our neighborhood since I was little, and even before then, my memories of strangers were dim.
“No, but some are. We were lucky they made themselves known right away. The worst kind of people are those who hide their cruelty. They’re more difficult to spot and harder to handle.”
“Have you killed a lot of people?” I was grateful for what he did, but also anxious about tomorrow—would people be looking for him? Authorities, or friends of the men we killed?
“Rabids, yes. People, no. But I haven’t killed anyone who didn’t deserve it.”
Those were bad men. He’d acted in our defense.
“I’m glad you were there. You protected us, just like you promised. Me too.”
“Of course, I did. You’re part of our tribe now. Our little band of Assholes.”
He smiled and held out his hand for me to take. The pressure of his fingers reassured me. He wasn’t going to abandon me or leave me in the woods to fend for myself. I was one of them now. I leaned toward him and he drew me closer, wrapping one arm around my shoulder so that I could lean against his chest. He smelled like tobacco smoke and cedar, and his strong grip reminded me of my father, solid and steady. I couldn’t believe I’d ever thought of him as heartless.
“I was wrong about you,” I said as tears brimmed in my eyes. I never could control my emotions, and when I tried to hold them in, I ended up feeling worse, like I was choking on them.
“It’s okay. We didn’t meet under the best circumstances. And I was a bit of a dick.” He smiled and I snorted an accidental laugh. He lifted my chin, then wiped away my tears with his thumb, so gentle that I almost started crying again.
“It’s a mad, mad world, Kitten, but I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe.”
I nodded, my heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you.”
ELEVEN
CIPHER
Like most morningsas of late, I woke with my nose buried in Kitten’s curls and my dick prodding his ass. Usually, I slunk out of our shared sleeping bag situation before he woke and went and jerked off in the forest, but I was far too comfortable to move at the moment. Kitten was warm in my embrace, and he smelled like honeysuckle and summertime.
It had been a week since we crossed the Savannah River, a week since that nasty business with the raiders, and we’d made good progress. We’d come across a pile of decomposing bodies, Rabids most likely, which Macon and I burned in the nighttime while on watch. And while scouting ahead for our crew one afternoon, I’d found a live Rabid caught in a rudimentary bear trap that I’d dispatched of myself, which was more a mercy killing than anything else. It had been a pitiful thing, cowering in pain and unable to even open its eyes due to the sunlight. I’d felt monstrous slitting its throat while it was lying there so defenseless, but it had to be done.
Despite all of that, thankfully, there were no more Rabid attacks and no more unfriendly encounters with the locals.
We’d met a couple heading north on the trail and traded some supplies, and then a pair of siblings on their way to Florida who traveled with us for a couple of days before we parted ways in Danielsville. We were now 40 miles east of Atlanta, and if all went well, would be arriving in the city in a few days.
I had mixed feelings about it.
“Mmmm…” Kitten murmured and rubbed his ass against me in a way that sent the exact wrong message to my morning wood. “You’re still here.”
“My arm is asleep.”
He wiggled his rump, sending jolts of heat and desire through me. It required all of my restraint not to thrust against him in response. He rolled over and smiled at me, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Can I touch it?”
“No.”
“Will you touch mine?” he asked, rubbing his dick along my thigh.
