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His absence doesn’t surprise me, considering his Gift. To protect the others, he lives apart from them, in a camper behind the lodge. Doc told me he eats most of his meals there, too. But for the past few days, I’ve gotten used to seeing Grim in the lodge. Maybe he’s been around more often because of me, the one person who seems to be immune from his Gift. Or maybe it was just that the others were on a scavenge, so there were fewer people to be careful of. Either way, I miss his calming presence. Of all the men here, I feel safest with Grim. I’ve felt that way from the moment I laid eyes on him.
A shiver slides over my body as yesterday’s flash of lightning punches through my memory. When I was running from Leon, I spotted Grim across a clearing and made a beeline to him. I hoped he could help me, but Leon turned the tables. He struck Grim with his Gift of lightning. We only know I’m immune from Grim’s Gift because I rushed to give him mouth-to-mouth after he fell to the ground. If I’d been anyone else, I would have died right there the moment I touched him. Fortunately, the only one who died that day was Leon, thanks to Jud.
I nudge Jud with an elbow. “Can I bring Grim a plate when I’m done?”
His answer is an unsmiling nod. I have an urge to read into it. Did my request make him angry? Is he annoyed with me? Did I disappoint him last night? But I try not to give in to all the questions circling in my mind. Jud is just Jud. And I am just me. I can’t spend my days trying to bring a smile to this man’s face. Even though his smile is amazing.
So, I just say, “Thanks,” then change the subject. “What happens after breakfast? Does everyone get right to work?”
Jud tears a piece of bacon in two with his teeth and talks with his mouth full, but it’s not disgusting. It’s manly. He’s hungry and he’s not going to let manners get between him and his meat. “Most of the guys will unload Bessy. Shep’ll tend the kitchen and garden. Grim’ll patrol the borders.” He shrugs. “Same old, same old.”
“How can I help?”
His eyebrows go up. “You up to working?”
I nod, eager to be useful. I was pretty banged up when I first arrived here, but Doc tended my scratches and the burns Leon put on my back. With a few good meals under my belt, I’m starting, ever so slowly, to fill out.
“Shep’s got his hands full after being gone the week. You’ll help him with whatever he needs.”
I smile over my jelly-filled croissant. I’ve got a job to do, just like the others, and judging by how much these guys like to eat, it’s going be a lot of work. Fortunately, I’m up to the task.
Chapter 2
Judge
I send Cora offto Grim’s camper with a plate of breakfast and a pat of her pert ass. “Remember to think of a name,” I say, and she rewards me with a saucy smile. I might be imagining it, but there seems to be an extra sway in her hips as she walks away from me.
Progress.
Last night, I gave her my dick. As a present. Told her it was hers. She can ask to see it, pet it, kiss it, whatever she wants any time she wants. She can even name it if she wanted to. I bet she’ll pick some cutesie name that makes it seem less scary to her. Something like Fluffy or Fido. I don’t care what she comes up with, as long as it helps her get over her fear and look at it in wonder.
Because I’m not going to be anything like that piece of garbage whose head now marks the north-west border of my territory. I won’t do anything Cora’s not ready for, and she’s clearly not ready for fucking. Clit play and plenty of kissing got her acclimated to me last night, but she’s too damaged to be interested in penetration. I hate it. I understand it. At the same time, I need her to get used to idea pretty damn quick. I’ve got six men who haven’t seen a pussy in years. They’ve worked hard. They’re survivors. They’re good men. They deserve something soft in the middle of this harsh existence.
Which means I don’t get to share her bed again for seven fucking days.
This sharing shit is going suck. But being deprived of Cora six days a week beats having a fucking mutiny on my hands. Sharing is the only thing that’ll keep us working as a team. Judging from the way every last one of them undressed her with their eyes at breakfast, they all want her as much as I do.
So, I better get my head on straight. Cora’s notmygirl. She’s part of the team, here, and her job is to spread herself around evenly. Whether she likes it or not.
Cora disappears around the side of Grim’s camper, and I force my thoughts away from her. I’mnotjealous of the Reaper because she looks at him with trusting doe eyes. Idon’tcare if she greets him with a morning kiss in addition to that plate of food. That said, if that camper starts rocking, I’m going to go over there and yank her out. There’s work to do today, and it’s not Grim’s turn. He had his turn with her already. Now he has to wait, just like me.
Okay, he was unconscious for most of his turn, but still. It’s up to me to keep things fair, and part of that is making sure no one gets more of Cora than anyone else. One night a week, starting at dinner time. That’s it. That’s all each of us gets, and the Judge’s ruling is final.
Jesus. Managing a woman in the camp is going to be a lot of fucking work. That pussy, when I finally take it, better be worth the trouble.
As soon as I have the thought, I know it will be. I tasted it last night, and it melted for me like a fucking ice-cream cone on the Fourth of July. She’ll be worth it. I’ll just have to make do with having her one fucking night of the week.
I get on the four-wheeler and turn the key so hard it almost snaps off in the ignition. It’s time to put Cora out of my head and focus on the task at hand, which is consulting with Rev about the dead bird in the ammo box behind the seat. I drive the four-wheeler to the far end of the lot where we store all our vehicles, way out where no one’s going to overhear us talking. There’s no sense in worrying the others if there’s nothing to worry about. This morning, while I was out with Cora, the bird roused my Gift. No animal has ever done that before, and I have no idea what it means. Maybe Rev’ll have some thoughts about it.
Because Rev is walking, I take my time, going the long way around the field and checking a couple security cameras on the way. Their batteries are at mid-power and will need to be changed out before dinner. The Bluetooth signal that sends the live feed to the recorders in my office is strong. Looks like all is well up here. After I meet with Rev, I’ll check the other cameras, then review the night’s footage, like I do every morning.
Even though Rev took the direct route, cutting straight through the lot, I beat him to our meeting spot. It’s where the rocky trail up the south side of the mountain starts. I use the time to unlock the ammo box and look at the feathery corpse inside.
The Tricolored Heron is about two and a half feet tall and you’d probably need something larger than a yardstick to measure its wingspan. The stripe down its throat looks like a dribble of pure white paint, and it goes from the underside of the beak to the belly, where it expands to cover the whole undercarriage, including a good portion of the wings. When you look up and see a Tricolored flying above you, the white is stark and makes you think of a pelican, but the neck’s longer, the beak’s smaller, and the feathers on the wings are stormy blue. It’s a distinctive bird, and it belongs on the Gulf Coast, not in the mountains in fucking Montana.
Rev ambles up, lifting a long-fingered hand in greeting. “What’s up, buttercup?” he says in his gravelly voice.
Rev is my second in command. If anything happens to me, he’s the one I trust to lead these men. Not only is he the oldest of us, but he’s capable of doing what needs doing for the greater good. He’s a badass bastard who’s done plenty of wrong in his day, but since finding Jesus, or whatever, in the pen, he’s become obsessed with making sure everyone around him is on the right path. I dog him about it, but the truth is I agree. What matters most in the post-Virus world is the right path, the good path. I’ve been around enough evil in my life to know the world will be a miserable place if no one takes a stand against evil.
