My Wonderful Little Sister - Prologue
Disclaimer: You know the drill the by now...either be 18 or older to read this or get out. ...still here? Well, I admire your persistence. Okay, you can stay, but I'm NOT responsible if your mom catches you on here...or dad if your mom is dead or something. If both parents are dead then don't sweat it....although come to think of it that is god awfully depressing, and you have my pity (something not easily earned in this world). So, read on at your own risk. Just check the tags for what may or may not be in the following paragraphs. Also, all characters belong to me Casonova, so don't get any ideas about doing a fanfic without my permish...m'kay? I think we understand each other now, so read on! cough Pervert! ;D
Hey! Who threw that?
ALSO, if you have not read my previous works, go back and read the My Great Big Brother series first. It can be found here.
http://www.sofurry.com/view/106376
Enjoy!
Hartsfield Jackson Intl Airport - March 13th, The not too distant future
The sound of a whining jet engine woke me as the Boeing 737 I was strapped into touched down in the early morning hours of a rather typical Tuesday. I stretched and yawned as the plane taxied to a nearby gate and began the process of unloading its passengers, most of whom were fellow Marines and soldiers. It was funny to see the Army guys leave, as they all got to wear their ACU camo, while we Marines merely wore khaki cargo pants and olive green shirts under a jacket. I never understood why the Corps had a policy about us not being allowed to wear our own camo uniforms when out in public, but I digress.
Groggily I grabbed my one bag from the overhead and slowly worked my way down the aisle towards the exit. I politely smiled at the flight attendant who greeted us as we left and then headed down the jetway. God, my feet were killing me. For one thing, they'd swollen during the flight due to the lower air pressure, and for another I still had a pair of broken toes from a nasty fall off the third story of a building in Los Angeles. Funny, it seemed like yesterday I was fighting for my life. Then the war ended as quickly as it began, and two weeks later I'm told it's time to go home. Life's crazy like that sometimes.
In case you're wondering, it's been nearly a year and a half since I've been home. The war started in July, and then went on for a total of seventeen months before the U.S. and China worked out their differences. And by that, I mean the Chinese people got fed up being led by dictators and chose to rally around an aspiring grad student named Zhou Ming. Ironically, he's now the acting president, and his first order of business was suing for peace with America. Ming, from what I'm told, had gone to school in the U.S. and was in China visiting family when the war started. He could see the lies the government was feeding the people, and after hearing about how many Chinese soldiers were dying to protect the PRA in the former states of Utah and California, he decided to start and underground resistance movement. That movement ended up growing to over fifty million people nationwide, and in a swift rebellion in Hong Kong, Shanghai and Beijing, took control of the country's decision making processes.
But that's ancient history now. Instead, all the news channels talk about the 14.3 million American civilians that died, along with the 1.8 million PRA soldiers and 1.1 million U.S. servicemen. Five point three percent of the population of the U.S. now dead; I still can't wrap my mind around those numbers. Instead, the only deaths I focus on were those of the men and women around me. At first knowing that I shan't die till my eighties was a blessing. It took the fear of battle out of me and I could perform my job utterly stress free...until my best friend died next to me in a hail of bullets. That's when my blessing became my curse. At first it was just a friend of colleague here and there. Then it was my whole squad. Then it was the new squad I was assigned to. And then again. And again and again and again and again. I became a legend. A wolf who couldn't die, but to the men in my squad, I might as well have been death himself (maybe I was?).
Towards the end of the war my latest squad gave me the nickname of "Jonah." For those of you less Biblically literate characters, Jonah was a prophet who refused to preach in a city known for killing public speakers, so God cursed him and caused his very presence to bring about storms. The sailors on a ship he was riding on figured this out and decided to toss him overboard before they died along with him. In the end he got swallowed by a giant fish that vomited him up on land, but that's another story. As far as my friends were concerned, being near me was a death sentence. And they were right. The building we were in took a tank shell to its support beam and started to collapse. I managed to jump out in time and land in the street. Everyone else...well...their parents won't have to worry about digging a grave for them. They're all ten feet under a pile of rubble in a southern L.A. ghetto.
Even now I can't help but feel guilty. It's not their fault they had to be near me, it was just dumb luck. If you can call it luck. And don't get me wrong, I've got no qualms with staying alive either, it's just...how many second chances at life am I allowed to take at the expense of others? Would they have died if they hadn't been near me? What if I acted differently, maybe threw myself on a grenade? Would that have saved Nickolas from getting his balls blown through his brain? All these questions just keep nagging me, making me feel regret for being allowed to stay alive while everyone else had to punch out their ticket and call it a life. I'd never really been afraid of dying before, still ain't. It's living that now terrifies me.
___________
The bus ride to school was boring as usual, but today it seemed like it was even more tedious. Last night, Kyle had called us from Salt Lake City to tell us he was being sent home! I'd been waiting, hoping, and praying for this day since the war started, and when I heard on the news it had ended only two weeks ago I knew he'd be coming back soon. Normally I hate it when the phone goes off at 2AM, but when mom told me it was Kyle on the other end getting ready to take a red eye flight straight for Atlanta I could barely bring myself to fall back to sleep.
Unfortunately, I had both test in Algebra II and history, neither of which could be postponed. So I wouldn't get to go meet Kyle at the airport. In fact, neither would Shelly, who was now way up north in Virginia Tech. I don't know why she picked that school, maybe it's cause we're both from Virginia. I myself was born in Norfolk when daddy was still in the Army and got stationed at the Navy base there. Ironic I know, but someone's got to guard the ships while they're being docked. All in all, that meant only mom and dad would be at the airport to greet him. I knew he'd probably be disappointed that I wasn't there to greet him, but daddy insisted that I focus on passing my tests first, and then goofing off with Kyle. I'm sure it has nothing to with the fact that he suspects the first thing we'll try to do when we get home is tear each other's clothes off and make up for lost time. Ha.
All things aside, I think daddy's grown a little more comfortable with us being together. The fact I'm still with Kyle after all this time when I've had no fewer than five guys try to get my number told him that my mind's pretty much made up. Still, things haven't been easy. Living the last seventeen months in a constant state of worry was about as fun as that time I got attacked by some ducks by the lake. Fortunately I've overcome that phobia in the last few weeks, although they still kinda creep me out. Hey, they're dangerous alright? Those bills can really hurt if they bite you!
Ahem, right. Well, that's two things then. I can stop worrying about Kyle getting shot, and I can stop fearing ducks. Awesome. You know, today couldn't get much better...unless maybe my tests got canceled or something. Fat chance of that happening though, right? Oh well, I just hope I don't zone out thinking about what we'll be doing later. And...hey quit smirking! I didn't mean it that way...entirely. I mean, yeah you try going a year and a half without sex and see how you like it. But just being with him is fun, you know? It's not like I don't have other friends, it's just that I can't cuddle with them when it gets cold, or reminisce about the days back when we lived in Norfolk. I don't remember them much, to be honest, but Kyle had a few funny stories to tell. Anyway, enough "stream of consciousness" narrating for now, I'll go back to past tense. I'm less likely to say something embarrassing that way.
About halfway through the journey we stopped in a familiar neighborhood. I smiled as my friend Kaylin got onboard with a group of other kids. She was a lovely arctic vixen with snow white fur and dark brown eyes that were a couple shades darker than her hair. Kaylin and I had been friends since I was a freshman, and now we were both Seniors thanks to a summer of advanced placement classes bumping me up to her grade. It felt kinda weird knowing I was gonna graduate high school at age seventeen, but I figured it was all for the best. Once I was off at college Kyle and I would have a lot more time to be alone. Plus, people wouldn't know who he was, so we could openly hold hands and kiss without drawing attention.
"Hey Katie. Ready for those two stupid tests today?" she groggily greeted me.
"As I'll ever be," I replied. "I'll just be glad when they're done so I can get home. You'll never guess what happened last night."
"What?"
"Kyle's coming home!" "
"NO WAY?" Kaylin cried with ecstasy, her true giddy nature coming out as she slapped her paws to her face and knees. "When's he gonna get here?"
"He's already here, his flight got in...about twenty minutes ago if it all went according to plan," I replied.
"Why aren't you there to greet him then?"
"He called us last night just before he got on the plane, there wasn't any time to let my teachers know that I needed to skip class," I explained.
"Aww. Well, maybe I can at least get to meet him now. I can't believe I didn't while he was still here," she said.
"Heh, yeah hopefully."
"Why did he decide to drop out of school to join the Marines anyway? None of us ever got that. It always seemed like there was some sort of reason behind it all," Kaylin asked with open curiosity.
"Umm, well he didn't really want to go to college, and daddy wasn't just gonna let him sit around and find a dead end job somewhere."
"Yeah but, why so suddenly? It was like one week he was here, the next he was gone."
I sighed as my mind raced for a suitable answer. "It's just always been something he wanted to do. He loves it, although I'm sure he'll be glad to get back now."
"I'll bet. Eighteen straight months of World War III, right here in our own backyard. That must've been hell."
"You have no idea."
____________________________
There they were, good old mom and dad. Or Eliza and John. I really didn't care. Sure they'd raised me, but now they hated me for taking their daughter from them. To be fair, Eliza didn't so much hate me as she wanted me to at least earn her daughter's paw in mateship. I think I've more than done that now. As for John, well...he's a phony SOB. Look at him smiling at me, as if he's so proud of his son coming back from war. Back before this started he was ready to punch my face off for screwing with his daughter. I'd like to see him try that now, he'd probably go home in a casket.
"Kyle! Thank God you're okay!" he says as he throws his arms around me and grips his paws tightly against my shirt. Even Eliza joins in.
"It's so good to have you back son," she whispers as I look around to see other soldiers getting greeted by their families as well.
I force a smile and hug back, all the while keeping my weight on my left leg and off my broken toes. Sure, I'm glad they're here, but right now there's only one person I can think about. I look around eagerly, hoping to see her. Katie? Where's she at? Surely she wouldn't miss this. Maybe she's in the bathroom.
"Where's Katie?" I solemnly ask.
"She's still at school," Eliza replied. "There wasn't time to let the school know you were coming home. I'm sorry, I know you must miss her."
"Yeah, but it's my fault. I shoulda called earlier, it just didn't cross my mind."
Getting shot the first time didn't hurt this much as I gulp down what can only be called a massive cum shot of disappointment. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach, and not just from the gross metaphor. My eyes burn as if they're about to start flooding with tears, and I realize my palms are suddenly all sweaty.
"Let's just go," I mutter and begin leading the way out of the terminal.
"You want to get anything to eat first?" John asks. "My treat."
"No. I just want to go home."
"Katie's not there though, she's at school. She won't get home till 2:30 in the afternoon," John explains.
"I don't care. I just...I just want to lay down in my bed and go to sleep."
"Rough flight huh?"
I groan and glare at John. "Can you just shut up and let me walk in peace, please?"
He looks as if I just jabbed a knife in his heart. I kinda did, really.
"Fine. Have it your way you ungrateful little prick."
"Thank you," I reply with a smile, this one totally genuine.
I keep up the silent treatment for about ten minutes. Once we got to the car I decided enough was enough and that maybe I could go for a bite.
"John? You still hungry?"
He looked over at me, eyes wary and his gaze uncertain. "Why? You want to go somewhere?"
"I'd about kill for some steak and eggs right now," I reply as I toss my bag into the backseat of our Accord and climb in next to it.
"Well alright then," he says with a smile. "IHOP it is."
"Mom, you cool with that?" I ask.
"Of course dear, I'm just as hungry as you are," she happily says back.
"I doubt that, you got to eat dinner last night."
"You didn't eat dinner?" she asked.
I shook my head. "I was too excited to eat. Now I feel like I could eat a whole horse."
"Horses aren't the best quality meat out there," John joked. "Let's get you fixed up with some USDA approved beef."
I smile and close my eyes. I hardly slept on the plane, partially due to the uncomfortable seats, and because I couldn't stop dreaming about the days gone by. My mind hasn't quite acclimated itself to a peacetime environment and keeps replaying the images of war over and over again. This happens sometimes when I play Battlefield 4 for eight hours straight and then go to bed. My mind is still in Battlefield mode, and my subconscious relives the most exciting memories. Heh, I hear diet can affect your dreams. Maybe some actual food instead of all the dehydrated crap from the MREs will calm my nerves.
_________________________________
Ugh, my brain hurts. Why does my history teacher feel the need to put more than one essay question on a test? Not only do they take forever, they make your wrist sore from trying to write at the speed of sound. But at least it's over now. And thank God that my Algebra test was only fifteen problems. I surprised myself at how well that went, considering math is not my best subject. Still, I'll be glad when I can call it quits with that subject. In the meantime, I can finally eat my lunch in the cafeteria. I quickly grab my lunch bag from my locker and head off to find a table in my usual corner of the café. Sure enough, Kaylin's already got a seat all saved for me. Best, friend, ever. No really, she and I have been through a lot, or at least done a lot of random junk together that was certainly amusing.
"Hey Kaylin," I mutter as I weakly sit down next to her and open my lunch bag. "So, how'd you do on the test?"
"Totally failed...at failing!"
"Meaning..."
"I rocked it! What's wrong? You don't look so good."
"Two words; Algebra test," I groan.
"Oooohhhh. Man you look like you got hit by a truck," she replies.
"Gee, thanks. I only spent two hours applying makeup and getting my hair straightened up just for you."
She grins and snickers at my joke. It's a bit of a long story, but we have an inside joke between us where we pretend to be lesbians. I haven't let Kyle in on it, since I've seen the kind of porn he defiles his mind with mostly involves a pair of drunk college girls copulating in a pool or gym shower. Last thing I need is him making boob groping gestures at me again. ...yes, again...don't ask what started it the first time (it may have involved Skype, a webcam and the fact he hadn't seen me for ten months). Anyway, it's a lot of fun to pretend I'm a lesbian...although with the quality of guys at my school I'm not sure how much of it is me actually pretending anymore. Needless to say Kaylin feels the same as I do about them.
It's funny, we've had this joke going on for quite a while now. It all started when we got bored at a sleepover and I made the offhand comment about how maybe we should just make out to pass the time. And no, we didn't, otherwise I wouldn't have even told you this much. Since then, we've sort of satirized a typical relationship. First we posted lovey dovey messages on each other's Facebook wall, then we had a pretend break up/get back together flame war. We even switched our relationship statuses to "Married" and listed each other as a spouse, which is technically impossible in the state of Georgia.
Our parents were worried at first, but they caught on after a while that we were just kidding around. Heck, even my mom made some jokes about how I need to get a job so I can get Kaylin a good engagement ring. I guess since I'm taller she figures I'm the top in our relationship. ...yeah I'm definitely the top.
"Oh, well in that case you look lovely!" Kaylin says, her expression still vivid with humor.
"Yeah, well when we get home you're cooking me dinner and then we're gonna finish watching those Rizzoli and Isles episodes on Netflix."
"Oooo, I can't wait! I just wish those two would make out already though, I mean you know that's what's gonna eventually happen right?"
I cracked a smile and chuckled. I could hear the snickers of a few guys around me, who were no doubt eavesdropping on us. Kaylin told me not to add guys from our school on Facebook since they'd probably just stalk me and end up thinking I really was a lesbian. I didn't really care one way or the other what they thought though. As long as they left me alone, they were free to think whatever they wished. I just hope none of these creeps paw off to the idea of me and Kaylin going at it, ech! Sigh, sometimes I wonder how the earth got 7 billion furs with so many douchebags around.
"Alcohol and poor judgment, I'd say."
"Quiet Kyle, it's still my turn to talk!"
"Not anymore, see that line down there? That means we're switching to my train of thought."
"Oh, you're right. Carry on then."
_____________________________
We finally got home around 11:30 A.M., and all I felt like doing was climbing up the stairs, striping down to my boxers and lying on my bed. My body yearned for rest, but my mind was still as active as ever. John had returned to the office for the day, or at least that's what he told us he was doing. My guess was he hit the gold course. After all, how could he explain to his coworkers that he wasn't at home spending time with his son who'd just come home from the war?
As for mom...well, she could tell I wanted to be left alone, so she went out shopping with friends, which would no doubt include lunch and then coffee at someone's house, followed by a run to the grocery store to pick up what we're having for dinner. So for the next few hours I was all alone...heh...alone. I kinda liked it when I was fifteen, getting the house to myself. That was when I learned how to clear my browser history so I could safely watch people touch no-no parts on the internet without getting caught. I wasn't allowed to get my own computer till my senior year of high school, so anytime I could take be left alone at home was spent jerking off in front of the family desktop. I learned quickly to put a towel down where I was sitting so I wouldn't leave a butt sweat stain on the chair. That almost did me in once.
However, I was twenty now, and internet yiff didn't carry the same weight it used to. I mean sure it was nice, but now I looked at it as being this fake story with two really bad actors covered in tattoos soiling a perfectly good couch in someone's living room. Heck, even well written erotica wasn't that special anymore. No, all I really wanted was to be back with Katie. They say if you want to know where your heart lies, look where your mind wanders. Well, every second I wasn't getting shot at, I was thinking of Katie. And now I was only a couple of hours away from her getting home, but with no way to pass the time.
My old Xbox 360 had become obsolete during the war, and I didn't have the money for a new one handy at the moment. Even if I did, I don't feel like going to Best Buy or Gamestop for a new one. And since it was still the morning, that meant nothing good was on TV. And my laptop was now with Katie since I left it to her while I was gone, and she undoubtedly had it at school with her right now. I didn't want to leave my bed either...so that left only two things for passing the time; sleep...or pawing off. Considering the tent in my boxers was starting to make insistent throbs through the material, you can guess which one I'll choose.
I pulled my boxers down a little bit and gripped myself tightly, taking a second just to savor being able to take my time for once. The last time I slapped the rooster had been on a night watch in some poor guy's apartment over in L.A. Chances are my jizz stain is still on his wall. But now I was at home with a full box of Kleenex within reach and a hard on that rivaled structural steel in density.
"Oh godssssssss..." I cringed as I slowly stroked at my throbbing appendage.
The nice thing about being pent up was that it made you all the more sensitive. It barely took anything to send chills up my spine as I gradually increased my pace, letting my mind relax as I started to fantasize. Instantly my mind drifted off to Katie...although I was in the mood for a three way scene, so I added in another girl. At first I just picked a typical buxom vixen, but that was too vanilla so I went with something a little less cliché.
I imagined them making out in front of me, each taking turns to go down on my cock for a few seconds, then pausing to kiss before the other took her turn. I grinned at them as they teased me, letting them think they were in control before I decided to just pin one of them and ravish her while the other one watched. Already I could feel my loins tensing up, and I'd only been pumping at my shaft for two minutes. But I didn't stop, Ineeded to cum, no matter how quickly.
Pushing Katie to the side, I decided I'd take her pal first. I gripped her shoulders and wrestled her onto the bed, playfully licking at her muzzle while she giggled and pretended to fight me off. Katie just hugged me from behind, and nibbled at my shoulder while she ground herself against my tail as she worked it between her thighs. I lined myself up and rested my tip against the girl's twat, her heat giving me chills of excitement as she writhed eagerly beneath me. I brushed her hair aside with a paw, ready to give her one last kiss before I plunged myself into her hot depths when...
"Hello Kyle," she whispers back.
My heart stopped. No...not her. Why'd I have to pick her?!?Quickly I tried to envision a different girl, but it was too late. Her face was there, curiously staring up at me. My mouth gaped open as I tried to find words to say, but nothing seemed appropriate but stunned silence.
"I love you too, you know."
"I-I...I love you too," I say back.
The next thing I know, I'm covered in her blood as her chest suddenly bursts open in a spray of red mist and fur.
"FUCK!"
I roll out of bed and land on my floor, naked and confused. At some point I'd fallen asleep while pawing and started dreaming, a common occurrence with my mind when I'm tired and horny. However, my dream quickly turned to a nightmare as I recalled yet another squadmate I'd watched die in my very arms. I thought I'd been able to forget her along with the dozens of others I watched die, but...gods...she was right there. She was right fucking there beneath me, right there ready to make love in the heat of the moment. And, to be fair, I was too...those many months ago.
_______________________________
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-PvyBKSmQ_g&ob=av2n
September 12th, Arizona
The Old West has returned in full force as World War III drags on for yet another year. The PRA's losses to the north have forced them to remove their police forces that held down Arizona and parts of New Mexico to quell the American invasion of Utah. In their absence, the once free peoples of the Southwest band together as survivors and try to resume their lives in the harsh deserts and on the prairie. With the state governments totally dissolved, and territories switching hands constantly as the U.S. and PRA trade blows on a monthly basis, the land has become a haven for criminals, deserters, and all around nasty folk who would prey on the innocent.
Cites fall into decay as their residents flee into the countryside to escape the carnage. Phoenix has become a glass and steel husk, the majority of its population now dead or living in shanty towns across the desert. Without a government to lead them, the people of these new towns elect mayors and sheriffs to protect them as the world burns like the hot golden sands that surround them. They swear no allegiance to either the PRA or U.S., lest they risk armed retribution from when one or the other arrives to secure the territory for themselves.
With a lack of sufficient infrastructure and communication networks, the people trapped in these harsh towns are forced to fight for their very survival every day. Finding fresh water, growing whatever food they can, and keeping their hastily erected homes from caving in atop of them is all in a days' work. But that doesn't mean there are not opportunities for wealth and fortune. Merchants set up shop and help towns become prosperous jewels that glimmer on the horizon, while industrialists scavenge for what materials they can to help build their new home. But not everyone is fortunate enough to have supplies on hand, and a rift grows between the haves and have nots. Rich towns are seen as greedy elitists who turn up their noses at the sight of the poor, while towns in less stable economic conditions are viewed as communist sympathizers and lazy fools who aren't willing to work to survive.
These strained politics dominate the minds of the denizens of this troubled land, and there is little sign of change. Bandits prey on travelers and merchants, while bands of mercenaries roam the countryside, ready to loot and waste anyone for the highest bidder. Corrupt leaders become like feudal lords and hold their people hostage at gunpoint, forcing them to work and live in squalor while the guards and "royalty" squander their wealth on what material goods they can find in the ruins of the old cities.
And so begins the journey of one young wolf on a quest that would haunt him for years to come. Kyle Blackmon, along with four of his fellow Marines would cross unforgiving terrain in search of the two greatest sources of wealth the world has to offer: loot, lust...and love.
Phoenix, Arizona - 5:23 P.M.
"So, we're all that's left?" Kyle asked as he looked around at the other four faces in his squad.
"Looks like it," replied Elsie, a red panda not much younger than Kyle.
The two Marines looked over at their other three companions standing by the Kodiak attack vehicle (an armored 4x4 built off a F-350 chassis and used as a replacement for the Humvee). Edgar looked on longingly at the dozens of dead bodies that littered the highway leading out of Phoenix, as well as the thousands of derelict, empty vehicles that had run out of gas. The strong shouldered panther did what he could to look sober, but inside his gut was reeling in pain at the loss of so many friends.
To his left stood Robert, an Alaskan malamute who stood at 5'8". Despite his short stature, he was the strongest of the group, having been a body builder for most of his twenty-four years. On his shoulders rested an M-27 IAR loaded with a C-beta magazine and a bipod. Like Edgar, he simply stood and said nothing while surveying the carnage around him. He cricked his neck and looked to the side, heaving a sigh as he did.
"So, where to now? We don't have enough gas to make it back to our HQ, and the PRA are bound to still be in the area," he said.
Tariq, a caracal of twenty-nine years and the leader of the group, glumly pondered Robert's question. Tariq was a native of Egypt, his family having fled during the Arab Spring to escape religious persecution for being Coptic Christians. To him, this harsh desert was home, and thus one of the reasons why his family had moved out here. He'd been part of the PRA military for much of the war, until having defected two months prior after he realized how dangerous it was now for his wife, who was still living in suburb near Phoenix at the time. Now, he had no idea where she was, and it was now his personal mission to find her.
"We push on. Intel says there's a nearby shanty town where a bunch of civilians have set up shop. We can find food and rest there for the night," Tariq suggested. He left out what his plans for the next day were.
The others agreed and everyone piled into the Kodiak as Tariq took the wheel and pulled off into the desert. Despite their silence, they all knew they were contemplating the same thing. Just moments ago, their company had been ambushed by some straggling PRA soldiers left over from the Phoenix garrison. The PRA had decided Phoenix was worthless now that its infrastructure was gone, and ordered it to be abandoned. However, the U.S. showed up with three regiments of troops backed by an armored battalion, thus forcing some of the PRA garrison to fight and hold the line. It had been a costly battle for both sides, but the U.S. had air support and managed to route the PRA defenders. Now all that remained were a few renegades here and there just trying to find their way home.
Half an hour later they arrived on the outskirts of "Skull Gulch," the small shanty town erected about twenty-five miles west of Phoenix. A hand painted sign nailed to a telephone pole read, "LOOTERS WILL BE SHOT ON SIGHT," while a pair of corpses dangled from ropes strewn from the old landlines.
"Guess they aren't kidding," Robert joked as the Kodiak made its way past and into the front of town.
As the Marines disembarked, they noticed all the townsfolk now had their eyes trained on them. A couple of men wearing tattered police uniforms each held an AR-15 to their shoulders, not quite training them on the Marines but still ready enough to take a shot if need be. Tariq looked over his shoulder and told everyone to keep their weapons holstered. Slowly they walked down the middle of the street, feeling as if they were out of place entirely. This feeling was further increased as they noticed a trio of PRA soldiers standing idly by on the porch of what appeared to be a hastily erected bar. Kyle made eye contact with them, ready to reach for his hip holstered M9 if need be, but was only surprised when one slightly raised his bottle and tipped it at him.
"This is too weird...why aren't they shooting us on sight?" Kyle wondered aloud as walked further inside the town.
"I dunno," Elsie replied. "This is too weird for me."
"I say we just waste 'em," Robert whispered to Tariq.
"Shut up!" Edgar reproached him. "Do you want to get shot?"
"By who? Those PRA pukes don't even have guns."
"No, but they do," Tariq said while pointing to a contingent of police officers exiting a building labeled SHERIF'S OFFICE.
A bobcat with a wide brimmed hat stood at the center of the formation, obviously the sheriff of the town. He was flanked by three deputies on each side, all six armed with AR-15s or M-4s. His gaze was hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses with dark reflective lenses, but his yellow teeth glinted in the sunlight as he gritted them around a toothpick. Taking the pick out with his left paw, he spat on the ground and snidely asked, "Just who in the fuck do you think you are?"
"Excuse me?" Elsie replied, offended by the man's harsh language.
"I said who the fuck are you people? You think you can just waltz in here carrying your guns all high and mighty like that?"
"I don't understand, what do you mean?" Tariq said earnestly whilst trying to defuse the bobcat's evident frustration. "We're here to liberate your town from the communists."
"Pah, you mean conquer us like they tried to? Let me tell you something partner, ain't no around here needs to be liberated. We got us a nice quiet little slice of Armageddon out here, and we want it to stay that way," the sheriff growled.
"Fair enough," Tariq replied. "We'll get out of your hair as soon as we can. I just want to buy some gas so we can make it back to our base."
"First of all," the sheriff said while nibbling on the end of his toothpick, "We only sell gas to residents. Second, we don't have any gas to spare anyway. Some damn bandits intercepted the relief truck before it could get here from the refinery."
"I'm sorry to hear that..."
"And another thing! Mason, confiscate their guns, you know they're not supposed to carry them inside the town walls."
"Whoa whoa whoa! You're not taking my guns," Robert protested while shouldering his M-27.
The deputies all raised their rifles and trained them on Robert.
"Rob...put the gun down," Kyle ordered.
"Fuck you Blackmon! You don't tell me what to do," Robert replied angrily. "The last thing I'm doing is giving this chump my gun."
The sheriff just grinned and crossed his arms. "You wanna keep that rifle, kid? Go right ahead. I'll have Henry hear march you out of town and you can see if the desert treats you any kinder."
Robert glared back at the bobcat while eyeing the six deputies. He knew he was outgunned and wouldn't be able to get off more than one or two shots before he was cut to pieces. Reluctantly, he lowered his weapon, although he still kept a tight grip on it. Tariq breathed a sigh of relief.
"Look, sir...we don't want any trouble. We just need some fuel to get home."
"And I told you we ain't got any!" the sheriff barked.
"You mentioned something about bandits intercepting a tanker. Do you know where they took it? We could go get it for you and bring it back," Tariq offered.
The bobcat paused, as if stunned by Tariq's words. "You're serious aren't you?"
"I wouldn't waste your time if I wasn't."
"Well...we know they hit it about six miles outside of town. They probably drove it back to their camp at the base of the canyons northwest of here," the sheriff slowly recalled. "So...I guess if you brought it back here, we'd pay you in fuel so you could get home."
"Great, then it's settled. Just point us in the right direction and we'll go get it."
"Now hold on, how do I know you're not gonna double cross me and just take the tanker off someplace else? The last time I let you military types try to help I lost ten sacks of flour and a water filtrator," the sheriff explained.
"Where else would we go? We don't know the lay of the land, and everyone out here seems pretty on edge. Last thing we want is to show up in a stolen tanker truck and get accused of being bandits," Tariq answered.
"Hmm, good point. But still, I'ma send Jake with you just to make sure," the sheriff replied.
"But..."
"You don't even know how to get to the damn truck, so don't bother arguing. Bring him and the truck back in one piece, or else you folks are gonna be walkin' back to Phoenix, got it?"
"Got it."
With that, all but one of the deputies turned around and followed the sheriff back into the office. The one remaining deputy, a Dalmatian with a young but beleaguered face, stepped forward whilst slinging his AR-15 over his shoulder.
"Howdy," Jake curtly said. "You guys got plenty of water in those canteens?"
The others nodded, knowing that their belt canteens were for the most part still full.
"Good. Then let's get moving. It'll be dark in a couple of hours, and that's when things start to get dangerous. You guys need any ammo?"
"I could use a couple of mags," Edgar admitted, as he'd used his M-4 with a little too much gusto.
Jake reached into his pack and pulled out a fifty round box of 5.56 rounds.
"Make those count, 'cause that's all you get. If you don' have the clips to load them into, well that's your problem."
Edgar nodded and took the box, silently praising himself for not just discarding his spent magazines.
"Alright, let's go kick some ass."
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That's all for now folks, as this is just the intro chapter. Yiffs and more plot to come in chapter 2!