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What. A. Night.
Once the enemy was gone and our settlement was secure, the six of us gathered ’round Cora and loved on her. And she loved on us. All of us. Every man got to come, including me—it was my pleasure to jet my seed directly into her eager mouth. And Cora got to come three beautiful times, twice on Rev’s cock and once beneath Grim’s pale, pounding body.
Andfuckdid we all need it!
We were reeling from Jud going missing. We were stressed from those choppers scanning our mountain for Cora. She was well-hidden (or so we thought), but that didn’t keep the fear from choking me as I watched from my sniper perch in the treehouse with a rifle that wouldn’t fire. None of the other guys’ weapons would fire reliably, either. Later we learned Raptor had a guy with him named Jammer who could stop all our electrical and mechanical equipment from working. All our comms were down while those choppers flew over us, Grim wasn’t able to start the ATV, Scrap’s missile system did fuck-all, and Rev even got locked inside a frigging tank.
We know now that Jammer’s dead. Rev and Brawn confirmed it when they scouted the site of the chopper crash. But we didn’t know it that night. All we knew was that Cora followed the Working’s urging and left the bomb shelter, racing with Grim to the summit to help Scrap. Once she was with the kid, his computers started working again. He was able to fight Jammer’s Gift and use a missile to bring down one of the enemy’s choppers. With Jammer on board.
“You sure he’s dead?” I asked Rev the night after his scouting mission with Brawn.
“As a doornail,” Rev said.
“He’s a lump of coal,” Brawn said, and I pictured what they described, a crashed and burned-out chopper with four charred bodies inside. Good riddance.
“Too bad we didn’t get the other chopper too,” I said.
“No,” Rev said sharply. “How do you think they got Jud off our mountain?”
“Shit,” I said.
“Glad they had time to activate countermeasures,” Scrap said, uncharacteristically serious.
We lost one man that night, and we plan to get him back. But Raptor? He lost four, and none of them will ever come back from the fiery hell we sent them to. We won the battle, but barely. We won it because of Cora. She helped Scrap grow his Gift, and now, Rev has us all testing our Gifts to see just how powerful they can be. Cora doesn’t have a Gift of her own, but when we’re near her, when we’re loving her, our Gifts get stronger.
We’re going to need that strength, because even with the four who died in the chopper crash, Raptor’s crew still outnumbers us. Our pelican, Bernard, formerly one of Raptor’s spies, has shared all he knows about his home city of New Orleans and the settlement there. He shared there were thirty men helping Raptor run their settlement. Now, there are twenty-six. To our six. Seven, if you include Cora, but I plan to put my booted foot firmly down if Rev thinks to let her anywhere near the fighting.
Maybe we’ll learn something here in Texas that will help us even the odds for when we hit the Big Easy.
Hang on, Jud. We’re coming.
We’ll get our brother back, and we’ll make that fucker, Raptor, and his cronies pay for ever setting their eyes to the north.
“Here,” Rev says, pointing at a turnoff.
Bessy’s halogens turn everything in front of us to daylight as I make the turn.
Rev leans forward in his seat as I steer us down a two-lane road with a generous smattering of cracks. Tumbleweeds fly off Bessy’s cowcatcher as I blast over the bumpy asphalt at fort-five. I’d go faster if my full bladder could take it. Shouldn’t have downed that second warm energy drink a while back. I scowl at the empty can in the cupholder.
Bessy’s wheels eat up the miles, and then Rev indicates another turn. Bessy’s lights reflect off a slouching, dogeared sign welcoming us to the town of Eden.
I snort. “Good place to put a settlement after the end of the world.”
Rev says nothing. He’s studying our surroundings, periodically lifting his night-vision binocs.
“Itisa settlement we’re heading for, yeah?” I ask, recalling the vision he shared with me. “A ranch that size with actual cattle and fences in good repair. That’s an operation that takes more than a man or two.”
Rev strokes his beard distractedly. “That’s what I’m thinkin’.”
“Think they’re holding Jud there? Maybe they’re in cahoots with Raptor. Or this ranch could be his vacation home.”
“Not sure.” Rev shakes his head. “You know as much as I do.”
The next turnoff is six miles past a small downtown area overrun with weeds and decay.
“Stop here,” Rev instructs. While I bring Bessy to a halt, he gets on the radio. “Everyone, wake up. We’re gettin’ close. Time to arm up.” To Scrap, he says, “Up and at ’em, boy. Raise the flags.”
Shortly after we established our settlement in Montana, Scrap designed a flag, and Shep stitched it up. It’s green and yellow, and it has our mountain on it with an eagle posed above. In its talons are a judge’s hammer and an AK-47. We also brought along a white pillowcase to fly beneath our Eagle Peak flag. To show we’re not a threat. At least, not unless it turns out these guys are holding Jud.
