As I watch a burly bearded guy pet a stray cat and share jerky with it I tell myself, “This is him. I have found the perfect man.”

Before the apocalypse I did not go for beardy guys. I didn’t go for guys at all. I was happily single with no intention to mingle. But now things have changed. There is no gas, no electricity, and soon there will be no food.

I’m not the hunting or survivalist/prepper type. After thinking on this situation for a few weeks while barricaded in my walk-out basement apartment, I’ve concluded that I need someone to take care of me. A man. Or maybe two men. Not more than two.

Attracting a man who wants to take care of me and give me stuff is a skill I possess. Before the internet went down I was a very popular cam girl. I was raking in six figures a month there at the end. So I know what men want to see and what they want to hear. Big, vacant eyes, pouty lips, long hair. A dumb baby-doll voice. It’s not hard for me, it comes very naturally.

This is the first time I’m going to do it in person though.

And I know I’m going to have to put out. That’s a given. It won’t be that big of a deal though. It’s not like I hate sex. I really, really enjoy sex with men. It’s all of the other stuff I’m going to have to grin and bear. They are so boring. And annoying. I do wonder if they still incessantly talk about sports-ball and video games now that those things aren’t really happening anymore? Are they still obsessed with their cars with no gas to drive them? No matter. I’ll pretend interest in whatever dumb thing they want to talk about.

A week ago I started staking out a rest area to spy on people. The interstate is jammed with broken down vehicles and most people cut through this rest area because it’s clear and downhill. Lots of people stop through here and I watch them with binoculars to get a sense of who they are. I pass on guys that are rude and rough to other people in their group. I don’t want to be mistreated. I pass on guys who are mean to cats. There is a feral cat population here and anyone who kicks a cat is out of the running.

Two nights ago, I spotted two guys, and I thought I hit the jackpot. They both petted the cats. When one tripped, the other helped steady him. They had kind smiles and seemed like best friends, and I started to imagine us being a happy threesome.

I followed them until they made camp, and I was working up to approaching them when they started making out. Then they jerked each other off, cuddled and fell asleep.

And—I guess I could have still tried. Maybe they’re bi. But it wasn’t the situation I was looking for. Those men weren’t lonely and desperate. They had each other. I need someone who will treat me like a prize they will do anything to win.

And then today this big guy came strolling into the rest area. He looks competent, with a big backpack obviously made for hiking, sturdy boots, and cargo pants. And he’s strapped. Everybody is armed now, but he has a smaller gun holstered at his side and a longer one slung over his back. They both look clean, like he’s the kind that disassembles and cleans his guns regularly to make sure they’re in working order.

Most telling of all, besides his friendliness with cats, is his belly. This is a chubby guy. And his clothes fit. He hasn’t missed many meals in this apocalypse so obviously he knows how to take care of himself.

He’s got pretty eyes too. Dark with thick lashes.

This is definitely the one.

I have a plan, I just need to get to it before he leaves.

Pulling the band out of my hair, I fluff in all out. I applied a ton of dry shampoo before I leaving home this morning and its easily shaped into beachy waves.

There’s lip-gloss, cream blush and a push-up bra in my jacket pocket. Not practical for a stake out, but just what I need to seduce beardy-guy down there.

Okay, I’m ready.

Leaving the jacket, I snag a can out of the other pocket and saunter toward my mark.

He doesn’t notice me for a while. Too busy making friends with the cat. I’m within a couple yards before I call out.

“Sir? Sorry to bother you, but could you help me with this?” I hold the can out to him. “It’s the only food I have but I can’t open the can. And I’m so hungry.”

He’s just staring at me, mouth slightly agape.

“Do you—maybe if you have a can opener? Or—?”

“I—uh, well, I don’t have one. But here—” pulling his long gun over his head, he sets it aside, then pulls off his backpack, bringing it around to his lap where he unzips it.

He starts pulling food out of his bag. Twizzlers, beef jerky, chips—he piles it into my waiting arms, then wedges a bottle of water between my elbow and my side.

“Oh my gaaawduh! You’re so sweet! But I can’t take your stuff.” I push all of the stuff back toward him, but he doesn’t reach for it, instead stepping back. “I just need help opening this. Do you think you could pry the top off with your knife?”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

He has sheath hooked on the other side of his belt with a serious looking knife tucked in it.

“Uh, no. That might damage my knife and probably get metal shards in your tuna,” he says.

“Jeeze, you’re right. I’m so dumb. Here, at least take the can. As a trade. You can open it whenever you come across—”

“No, you keep it. I’m good—”

“But—!”

“Really. Keep it. I have plenty.”

“You do?” I ask this breathlessly, looking up at him through my lashes, lips parted.

He just nods, looks away. He has that beard and a tanned skin tone, so it’s subtle, but I can see that he’s blushing. Adorable. I have him right where I want him.

“If you won’t trade, at least come sit with me. We can have lunch together.”

I saunter over to a concrete picnic table, putting a twist in my walk, confident he will follow me. Of course he does.

“My name is Candy by the way,” I say over my shoulder.

“Jasper,” he responds.

“That’s a great name.” I grin at him as I sit at the table.

He just nods and starts pulling things out of his pack.

I have definitely picked the right one because my man pulls out a little stove. It has a canister of fuel that he attaches to it and a tiny pot that fits perfectly atop it. He boils water then opens a pouch of dehydrated—something? —and then he pulls out a pack a pre-cooked rice.

I’m silenced. I cannot think of a single thing to say as this man puts together an honest-to-god dinner for me. Like this isn’t an end-times situation. Like my previous meals haven’t been stale cereal and expired canned beans and—

“Oh my god, Jasper, this is amazing. Is that curry?”

He nods.

“Where did you get this stuff from? You’re so—prepared!”

“Uh, Amazon mostly. I ordered a big variety pack of these.” He waves the empty pack. “I tried a few, but this is my favorite.”

“Nice!”

He has pulled out a small metal plate, a collapsible silicone bowl, a fork and a spoon. He divides the food into two servings and hands me the spoon.

“This is an amazing lunch. Thank you so much for sharing with me.” I gush.

He blushes again and mumbles a “welcome.”

I can’t tell, but he either is really susceptible to praise or he really hates it.

As I eat, I make small talk.

“So, Jasper, where’re you headed?”

“Tennessee. Chattanooga area,” he answers.

“Do you have family there?”

He nods and says, “I grew up there. I’m going to check on my mom.”

This is looking great for me. All green flags.

As we finish eating (I’m taking my time, savoring this food.) a few people pass through the rest stop. One group that’s made up of three adults and two kids doesn’t even look towards us. The other group, three men and a woman, stop and stare at us for a moment. We don’t say anything to them, but Jasper puts his hand over the gun he set on the table and the group leaves. 

After we’re done eating he pulls out a pack of unscented baby wipes and cleans the dishes with them. Then he puts the dirtied wipes in a ziplock bag and tucks that into a side pocket of his bag.

What a fucking gem of a guy. I need to lock this down quickly.

“So, um, listen. I don’t want to stay around here. I’ve been stranded, but I want to get further away from Atlanta. I’m by myself though and I don’t feel safe to travel alone and I don’t really have the right gear for a long hike like that and I don’t even know what the right gear is and—” I give him my best vulnerable doe-eyed look. “Can I come with you?”

“Uh—yeah—” He clears his throat. “Yes. I wouldn’t mind the company. And like I said, I have plenty of food. So—”

“Awesome.” I stand and brush nonexistent crumbs off of my clothes, purposely drawing attention to my body. I’m rewarded with another adorable blush. “Okay, I have some stuff up there.” I point toward the hill I came from. “Just a pack and a jacket. Let me grab those then I’ll be ready to go.” I move towards him as I’m talking and place a hand on his arm. “Can you come with me, just in case?”

With a quick nod, he’s following me up the hill and into the brush. He’s lucky this isn’t a trap. There could be a gang of thieves up here waiting for him. Not that I would do that, but I’m sure other people have thought of trapping guys this way and stealing all of their stuff.

We come up on my stake out area and I start rolling up my blanket. It’s an awesome picnic blanket, with a tarp sewn into the bottom and a fleece fabric on top. I will not be leaving this behind.

Kneeling, I stuff my binoculars and jacket into my bag and tie my blanket to the bottom using the excess straps.

When I glance up at Jasper, I catch him ogling me. His eyes are focused on my chest and he’s hard. I can see the outline of his cock against his pants.

Okay. I’m going to do this.

Laying a hand against his thigh, I ask, “Can I take care of this for you Jasper?”

“I—” He swallows audibly. “You don’t have to. Just—”

“But I want to. Let me. Say yes.”

He shakes his head, but his response is lost when a screaming argument erupts at the rest area. At least two men yelling at each other, then gunshots ring out and a bunch of people are screaming.

Jasper grabs my arm and yanks me to my feet, slinging my pack over a shoulder and hustling me away from the noise. He manages to push branches aside and push me foreword at the same time, then he picks me right up and sets me on the other side of the guard rail when we get to it.

We don’t talk as we leave the rest stop behind. Crossing the median, we continue down the interstate, not speaking for nearly half an hour. It’s fine with me. If he wants quiet, I’ll be quiet.

Okay, that didn’t go as well as I pictured. It’s weird that he’s obviously attracted to me but turned me down. Maybe he has some kind of hang up?

“Listen,” he says, finally. “What you said back there—you don’t have to do that. When I said I wouldn’t mind the company I didn’t mean—”

“Okay,” I respond. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I—what—?”

“If you change your mind and want to do that,” I do finger quotes. “Just let me know.”

“I’m telling you that that isn’t our deal.”

“Message received.”

“Listen—”

I whirl to face him, and he pulls up short.

“You don’t have to keep telling me! I offered, you declined. That’s fine. You can stop rubbing it in.”

“Rubbing it in?!”

“Yeah.” I tug my pack off his shoulder and sling it over my own back. “Listen I’ve rethought this whole thing. Obviously I’ve made you uncomfortable and now everything is awkward so we can split—Thanks for lunch.”

“You’re welcome. I don’t understand why you’re upset though? You didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

I snort.

“Really. Let me be clear okay?”

He pauses until I nod.

“You just met me. You told me you were starving. That you were scared to be on your own. That you need help. Well, how can I know that you really want to do—things? Why do you want to do that? If it’s gratitude, a thank you will suffice. If you feel like—”

“Ugh. Stop. Please.”

“Okay, but I still think we should stick together. I won’t bring it up anymore. Promise.”

I sigh, thinking this over. This isn’t going the way I thought, but maybe this situation can be salvaged. I can at least stick with him until I find someone else.

“Alright. Deal.”