Surge (14 page)

“Take anything you need, Olivia,” Sarah replies. “We’ll have these cleaned up and back to you in a jiff, I promise.”

Following Sarah’s retreating steps, I snatch my goal from her arms and ignore her protests when I go to find Whitney. Walking into the great room, I glance around and notice the gathered group members that are clustered around our meeting couch. Damn it, I’m so not in the mood for this. Releasing a sigh, I hook the leather gear under one arm and prepare for battle.

“Who’s the guy you brought back?” Kelly asks with hopeful eyes, as if Olivia’s beautiful face could be mistaken as anything besides feminine.

“That woman,” I add with emphasis on
‘woman,’
to which Kelly being Kelly mutters,
‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’
“Is named Olivia. And she’s our newest member to the group.”

“She’s infected,” counters a slightly accented voice belonging to Carlos.

“We saw her go down ourselves,” adds his super twin, Oscar.

“So, you’re the ones responsible for the fallout,” I accuse. “Because we were doing just fine without your help.”

“Actually, Jared,” Mike interrupts with an adjustment to his plastic framed, Buddy Holly-esque glasses. “That would be me.” Seeing the pissed look on my face, he holds up his hands. “I was just trying to help. I didn’t notice you and John until you ran out of the shadows.”

“You almost got us killed,” I reply with a low voice hiding my temper. “And why were you on watch to begin with?”

“We were teaching him how to shoot,” Oscar offers.

“Since we weren’t sure if you and John would come back, we were trying to prepare more snipers,” adds twin two, also known as Carlos.

“And Cory left a few hours ago,” Marissa adds with a sigh.

She’s been after Cory for a while, even when she takes John up on his offer
every single time
. I’m guessing her promiscuous activities are what deter Cory from taking her bait, because he hasn’t so much as glanced at the deliberately displayed, balloon-like chest Marissa shimmies in his face. Maybe he isn’t into plastic women, or maybe he’s gay? I don’t know, since he doesn’t talk about himself, but I brush that all aside and focus on the key words in that miserable huff.

“Wait, a goddamn second.” I hold up my hands up. “Where the fuck did he go?” Cory was supposed to watch Sarah for me, he promised, and he deserts her? How the fuck is that keeping his promise?

“He had me keep an eye on Sarah,” Danny answers from beside Sarah, cooling my temper slightly. “So that he could make a run to the drugstore. Leonard was having chest pains earlier and the doctor said we needed some hydro glycerin in case he had a heart attack.” It’s then that I notice the absence of Cory in addition to Akio, Leonard and Tommy.

“But he’s fine now,” Whitney says. “We gave him some Bayer, and they’ve since stopped.” I nod in thanks for the explanation. I’m glad the old bastard’s alright, he has spunk and I kinda like the old coot, so it would suck if we lost him.

“How long’s he been gone?” John inquires. He’s been silently observing the group since he came upstairs a few minutes ago.

“Like, a few hours,” John’s harem member Chelsea answers with a mindless snap of her gum. “But who cares, since you’ve come back, baby.” Chelsea makes kissy faces at John with her overly glossed lips, before she blows another bubble, which she then pops and chews like a cow. Really? Is that supposed to be a turn on? He’d get a mouthful of bubble gum and slimy gloss.

Maybe it’s just me, but I’d rather kiss the woman, rather than coating, and I fucking hate being called
‘baby.’
It should be reserved for bed partners you don’t recall the names of. It’s a filler, like
‘Wrap your legs around me....baby.’
That could totally save you as opposed to saying a name which turns out to be wrong, ‘cause then you wind up on the floor with blue balls. Not that I’ve experienced this myself, mind you. I always left names and endearments out of sex so that I didn’t say the wrong one; and I didn’t give her any false ideas of it going past one night. But I have heard from John that he uses generics like
‘baby,’
or
‘honey’
so that he doesn’t mix up the girls.

“He’ll be back soon,” Marissa says with conviction and a glare aimed at Chelsea.

“I know,” I say quickly to prevent the murder Marissa’s look is promising to commit. “He always does.” Seemingly appeased, Marissa sits back and nods.

“Where’s Vicky?” John inquires and I’m about to ask who the hell Vicky is, when Kelly answers with a sneer.

“She’s been locked up in Jared’s room all day.”

Kelly crosses her arms before giving me a smug smile. Obviously,
The Bitch
enjoys being the one to tell me about my bedmate’s faults. Well, honey, I regret to inform you that I already know her faults, and plan on using a crowbar to pry her out of my bed after I give sex just one more try. Then, after what promises to be yet another unsatisfying sexual experience, I’ll break out the tool belt and steal a leg from Diney.

“While we’ve all been earning our keep,” Marissa adds with her anger now redirected.

“She’s new,” I say in defense of the red head, only because I feel bad about forgetting her again.

“She’s lazy,” Chelsea counters and follows Kelly’s example of crossing her own arms. Since they’re not currently at each other’s throats to gain John’s favor, the trio is in an alliance. Wiping a tired hand over my face, I reply.

“I’ll talk to her.” After I remind her to stay the fuck out of my room, and quit sleeping in my bed again. “Carlos or Oscar take watch. Don’t matter which, you both know your shit. Just one of you take Sarah’s door, and other take the front.” They nod their identical acquiescence. “Someone take over cooking duty until Leonard’s cleared by the Doc. If that’s all, meeting adjourned.” Nine bodies scatter in different directions, but I recall my mission and stop Whitney.

“Can you do me a favor?” I ask and she nods for me to continue. I hold up the blood covered leather. “Help me clean these up and teach me how to sew? I might have upset our new guest a teeny bit, and I’m trying to make it up to her.” Whitney’s chocolate brown eyes fill with a motherly look.

“Jared, you big softie,” she says with a pat on my cheek. I’m about to protest that this has nothing to do with being soft, that it’s an act of desperation to keep Olivia from leaving. And self-preservation so that if she decides to stay, she won’t chop me into tiny unidentifiable pieces.

“You spread yourself thin already, I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you,” I reply and kiss her cheek.

Whitney gives me a sad smile. When she and Mike first came, they told us that they couldn’t have kids and were in the process of adopting before the outbreak. She always says that we’re the kids she always dreamed of having. We go along with it out of respect for her, and because it’s nice to have a motherly figure around.

Taking her self-appointed burden, Whitney spins away and leaves the room. I spy John entertaining two out of three groupies that hero-worship him, leaving Kelly suspiciously absent from the love-square. That’ll require further investigation later, because I have a date with a red head that will be thoroughly chastised after my warm welcome home.

<~~~<~~~
~~~>~~~><~~~<~~~
~~~>~~~>

Four mindless rolls in the sack later and I lay panting from the exertion, and covered in well-earned sweat. No, the woman that I just climbed off of, that’s as far away from me as I could possibly get with the exception of removing myself from my bed; because that’s friggin impossible in my boneless state, had no part whatsoever in working me up into a fucking frenzy. But the woman down the hall sure as hell did.

That raven haired goddess was front and center in my mental fantasies, to the point that I nearly shout her name each time I spent my load. Just thinking of her red mouth, that generous chest I only glimpsed at, and her saucy attitude has me recovering at record speed, revving me up for another go that I have absolutely no time for. I’ve already succumbed to the urge for too long as it is, and I can’t allow Junior to have his way again.

Shut up, all men name their penises, mine just so happens to be named Junior. And we almost always refer to them as if they are a separate person from us, since they tend to have a mind of their own.

It’s bad enough that I’m slacking on my chores, but then there’s the fact that I’m mentally banging a woman that doesn’t like physical contact of any kind. If Olivia had any idea of what my depraved brain did to her, she’d most likely run as fast as her little legs could carry her. Fuck, don’t think of her legs. Because then I think of her leather-covered ass that I want to sink my teeth into, and her toned thighs that I’d love to bury myself between like I did less than five minutes ago in a delightful fantasy where she rode me cowgirl style with her tits bouncing. And he’s back. Fuck you, DIC! Just fuck you!

When the body on the other side of the bed slides over, trying to snuggle, I get my ass moving. I should thank the red head for being a nice sperm catcher, or for pulling me out of my head, or even for murdering my boner with her clingy act, but I don’t. Instead, I choose to evade her octopus arms, remove the fourth condom and dispose of them in my trash can beside the bed, before I start pulling on clothes. With each article being restored to rights, I become more and more focused on the important things. Well, things that enable survival because my dick’s happiness is pretty important too. Just ask any man, and he’ll tell you the same.

With mental faculties slowly returning, I remember that I have shit to do, like checking up on the group, seeing how we made out with the new supplies, and making sure that we’ll be good to go early tomorrow morning. All of these thoughts take up residence at the forefront of my mind, pushing my extremely active libido to the back burner. Cargo pants in place, I stand to rip my t-shirt over my head. Feeling a hand come around to settle on my stomach, I recall that I have a bone to pick with Miss Sticky Fingers. I snatch up Red’s wrist in a gentle, but firm grip before turning to face my clingy charge.

“What’s wrong?” Vanessa asks.

“Several things,” I answer simply and begin ticking them off. “First and foremost, you slept in
my
bed. That’s a big no-no that you’ve been informed of multiple times.” That brings a pout out that rivals Kelly’s in practiced plastic perfection. Why I put up with this shit is entirely due to that pesky man piece that demands attention. Training a hard look on her, I continue.

“I’m not a cuddler, and I won’t pretend to be one. The agreement was for no strings attached sex, plain and simple. If you can’t deal, this ends now.” Nodding her head, she looks away. “This brings us to the next problem that we have.” That brings her attention back in a flash.

“What problem?” Victoria,
not
Vanessa, asks with squinted eyes as if she’s trying to read my mind.

“You not pulling your weight,” I reply. “The girls told me you’ve been in here all day, instead of helping.”

“That’s because they’re tattle-taling bitches.” Feeling extremely defendant of my group to someone that dares to insult them after five short days of being here, I snap back my retort.

“Everyone has a job here. Be that keeping watch, cleaning, cooking, gathering supplies, gardening or collecting rain, it all has to be done in order for us to survive. We don’t spend the day lying in bed like invalids. If you don’t like it, tough tits ‘cause that’s how we run things.”

Vanes-Victoria huffs and crosses her arms; it’s obvious that she’s trying to divert my attention away from her lack of effort, and to her insignificant chest. I bet she even thinks that my marathon erection was because of her. Yeah, that so didn’t happen then, and it ain’t happening now. Her charms no longer affect me now that I’ve experienced firsthand that they’re nothing but an act, and there’s also the fact that my fantasy woman is located less than a hundred feet down the hall.

Red doesn’t even belong in the same category as my sexy Tomb Raider, or Diney for that matter. Diney at least has an excuse for her cold, statue-like state, so what the fuck’s the red head’s? Hell, I should just trade up to Olivia, but then I remember a certain machete that would maim me if I even tried, so maybe not. Seeing that my unfortunate second runner up, who is now behind Diney in the race, is still trying to tempt me into getting her way, I roll my eyes at her ridiculously childlike antics.