I have made a few too many assumptions about this guy.
I’m not going to beat myself up over it. It’s probably because for years I spent all of my time online. And the men I interacted with were a self-selected group and their only interest in me was sexual and their only other interactions with me were monetary. It was probably too much to hope that the success I had seducing men on the internet would translate seamlessly into my real-life endeavors during an apocalypse.
But come on! We all know how men are!
“So, um, I was planning to keep to the west of Atlanta, well outside the perimeter. Because of what happened with the CDC.” Jasper explains as we’re coming up on another exit.
I nod. “Good plan. I’d like to avoid the whole of Atlanta if we can. Not just because of that, but regular illnesses are still a thing so I think it’s safer to avoid crowds. Especially since sanitation isn’t what it used to be.”
“And let’s steer clear of interstates from here on out. I heard from one guy who had come south from Atlanta that there are FEMA camps and cops are rounding people up—”
“What, like they’re forcing people to stay in the camps?” I had not heard of this.
He nods, “Yeah. Dude may have been exaggerating or something. But I’m not going to any kind of camp.”
“Me neither.”
“Okay, so let’s leave off at this exit. Find somewhere to stay tonight, then we’ll look at the map in the morning and plan our rout.”
We cut through the wooded area before the exit. There are some cars blocking the way and we hear voices. Not sure why there are people hanging out at an exit ramp, but it seems sus.
When we’re through the shrubs I’m able to look back and see that it’s a group of cops on the ramp. I’m glad we avoided them. I have never had a positive interaction with a cop, and I doubt they act any better since everything went to shit. And why are they still working? Still wearing those uniforms? Who is paying them? How and with what?
Suspicious.
After we get out of sight and earshot of the exit ramp, Jasper quietly says, “I’ve been sleeping in office buildings. If we can’t find one, any kind of store like FedEx or H&R block is just as good.”
Huh. I guess we aren’t likely to run into other people at those places. I’d like to sleep on a bed but even if a house, apartment or hotel room looks empty there’s no way to know. Now that everyone is scared and armed, we wouldn’t want to startle anyone. Offices make the most sense I guess.
“Okay, sounds good.”
We walk around the town for a while, trying to stick to allies and side streets. There’s no reason to call too much attention to ourselves. We are not seeing an office mall or anything like that. It’s going to be dark soon, we need to figure something out.
“How about here?” Jasper is pointing at a smell book store.
I nod and we head over. It’s locked of course. I expect Jasper to kick in the door or something, but we go around back, and he pulls a lock picking kit out of his bag.
“Are you serious right now?! You pick locks?”
He nods. “Yeah, I don’t want to bust in anywhere. Prefer to be able to lock up before I sleep.”
Not only does he have metal files he has this little drill looking thing that spins and opens the dead bolt.
“You’re amazing,” I say.
He glances at me then looks away quickly as he holds the door open so I can enter first.
As I cross the thresh hold I start babbling. “You know, when everything started going down I had no idea how to deal. All of the stores sold out right away, deliveries stopped, everyone was freaking out. I was in panic mode, just hiding in my apartment even though I knew things were going to get worse and worse—and you—” Embarrassingly, I’m breaking down in tears.
The door closes and he’s gently pulling me into his arms. Slowly, giving me time and space to resist. I don’t. I curl into his chest and sob. It’s a good thing it’s so dark because this is ugly crying. I’m not sure how long we stand there like that, with him patting my back and reassuring me. He says things like “you’re safe here…things are going to get better…you can get through this…”
“I’m sorry!”
He shushes me. “It’s alright. You’re fine.”
“No, I’m dumb. And lazy. And not prepared for anything! And here you are with food and weapons and opening locked doors—”
“You have that tuna,” he protests. “And we can get you a gun. And I can show you how to pick a lock. It’s not hard at all.”
“I’m—I don’t know how to shoot. I’m scared of guns actually. So I don’t think—”
“We can figure out a different weapon for you then. Like throwing knives. Or a cross bow. Or nun-chucks—”
I snort a laugh at that. Nun-chucks. Like a ninja turtle.
“I don’t know why I cried like that—”
“It’s normal. When you get to safety after experiencing a really stressful situation, that’s when you break down. Totally regular.”
I still feel dumb. It wasn’t all that stressful. Nothing bad happened. We saw a few people. Some of them were armed, but nobody threatened us or followed us. I didn’t like hearing about the FEMA camp situation or seeing those cops guarding the exit ramp but—I’m fine. I need to pull myself together.
“Let’s go see what the bathroom situation is here,” he says.
I nod and follow him. Surprisingly, the bathrooms are clean. The toilets have one last tank of water each. A lot of businesses we passed in town had broken windows and looked torn up. It looks like this bookstore was not a desirable target for looting or vandalism. It seems like the people who worked here just closed up at the end of their workday and nobody has been in here since.
When I come out of the bathroom, Jasper is waiting. “Listen, before we settle in, there’s a book I want to find.”
“Okay.”
“It might take a minute because I’m not sure what genre it will be shelved under. It’s The Vampire Omega by Tilly Blake. It could be in New Adult, Paranormal Romance, or Horror—”
I nod, “I’ll go find the horror section.”
“I appreciate it.”
We look for a few minutes, not finding it in any of those sections. But then I find a #Booktok display in the middle of the main aisle and there it is. The cover is a skull with a crown and thorny roses all woven throughout.
“Found it!” I call to Jasper.
It’s gotten dark out side and the bookstore is pitch black except for Jasper’s head lamp and my flashlight. We meet each other and he grabs the book.
“This is it! I read this when it was a fan fic. But now it’s revised with a new ending and bonus epilogue and—” He leans over and gives me a quick side hug, his excitement over finding this book is palpable. Can this guy be any cuter?
I pat his shoulder and say, “Let’s get settled in, then you can start reading your book.”
He nods. “Yeah, we should sleep in the back. It’s more secure. I need to make dinner too. I have a pack of instant Spanish rice, and I think if I boil some lemon pepper beef jerky to mix with it—”
As we’re walking by a display of Pokémon books and merch, I snag all of the fleece blankets and a Pikachu hoody to sleep in.
We set ourselves up in the back of the store. There are a few of those thin blankets used for shipping piled on top of pallets next to the rolling door and I grab all of them.
I unfold the blankets and put together a thick pallet, then bunch one up as a pillow. This will work.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
As Jasper is preparing our food I offer to read to him, so he doesn’t have to wait to start his book.
It’s a werewolf romance. Jasper keeps surprising me. To look at him, I never would have thought that this was the type of thing he likes to read. I didn’t peg him for a reader at all.
As we’re eating the rice/jerky concoction (It’s alright. Not as good as the tofu curry.) Jasper says, “You have a great reading voice. You could make some money narrating audiobooks—I mean before—”
“I know what you mean. Thanks.”
“So, what did you do before—all this? Were you a student?”
“A student?” I ask. “How old do you think I am Jasper?”
He looks non-plussed for a moment. “I don’t know. You seem young—like nineteen or—you look like a college student.”
I almost choke on my rice. “I’m thirty-two.”
He’s quiet for a second then mumbles, “Well, you could still be a student…”
I guess I sold my ‘scared and vulnerable’ schtick a little too well if he thinks I’m a teenager. No wonder he’s not interested in my overtures. He thought he would be taking advantage of a college kid! And it doesn’t help at all that I’m bursting into tears for no reason.
“So what did you do for a living then?” he asks again.
“I owned my own business. I was an entrepreneur,” I reply evasively.
“Did you sell essential oils or clothes or—?”
I shake my head. I hadn’t planned for this. I should have thought up a lie ahead of time. It’s not like I’m embarrassed about having been a cam girl. I was really good at it. I enjoyed it and I made a ton of money. But people do have some really hurtful ideas about sex-workers, and I’m worried about how Jasper is going to react if I tell him. Especially after the way I came onto him earlier.
“Were you an accountant?”
“I—what?” He put a strange emphasis on the word accountant.
“You know, ‘What do you do? I’m an accountant. Where do you work? At a place where accountants work—” He notices my confusion at this little song and explains, “It’s a TikTok trend. People who don’t want to explain their work just say that they’re an accountant and no one asks questions about it. Never mind. If you don’t want to tell me you don’t have to.”
“I was a cam-girl,” I blurt out.
He sits up straighter and peers at me. “Like on onlyfans?”
“Uh, like that, yeah. But not onlyfans.”
He squints a little, staring at my face for a moment. I was really successful, but not so much that a random guy is likely to recognize me in real life. Finally, he asks, “Did you do a video with that guy—the one with the scars and the alphabet leg?”
“Oh my god no! I wish. He’s a legend. The GOAT. I subscribed to him for years.”
Jasper is nodding agreeably to all of my statements. He has risen even more in my estimation. Not only is he being cool about my work, but if he’s a fan of that performer—that’s another green flag for sure.
“I didn’t work with anyone else,” I say.
We eat quietly for a few minutes. Then I ask, “So how are you so prepared for this? Are you a prepper or—?”
“Yeah, kinda. I had a really bad experience during Hurricane Katrina. So since then, I’ve tried to prepare for another disaster like that. With a go bag, emergency rations, camping gear, stuff like that,” he explains.
“That sucks. I’m sorry you went through that.”
We’ve finished eating, so he gets a few wipes out and cleans the dishes, while I read the book aloud.
When we’re done eating and go brush our teeth I complain, “It’s all werewolf drama in this book, when do we get to the vampire part?”
“Patience young grasshopper. We get to that soon.”
Jasper explains that we should keep our regular clothes on, even our shoes, just in case we need to leave in a hurry. We don’t want to waste time getting dressed or end up running away in our socks.
When I lay down on my pallet, he just lays right on the floor with his bag for a pillow.
I say, “Hey, so no pressure, but—if you want to come sleep on the other side of this pallet I promise not to make a move on you. It’s a little more comfortable than the floor.”
He nods and crawls over and lays next to me.
“I’m not worried about you making a move on me.”
“Good. Because I won’t.”
“No,” he says, “I mean I wouldn’t mind.”
“Huh. So now I’m just supposed to put myself out there again and hope you don’t reject me again?” I needle him.
“No, didn’t say that either. Just, I think I’ve given you the impression that I’m some kind of prude or I’m against…sex—or whatever. I’m not. You just surprised me with the way you turned up all the sudden—”
“It’s okay Jasper. Let’s just sleep now. I’m really tired.”
“Alright.” He switches his light off. “Good night.”
I reply, “’Night.” Then I’m falling asleep one second later.
*******
When I wake the next morning I’m smooshed into the blanket-covered floor. I’m splayed on my stomach like a starfish and half of Jasper’s body is draped over me. He’s a heavy guy, but it’s actually kind of nice. I lay still and just absorb the warmth of him, his head is resting on my shoulder, breath puffing softly against my neck.
It has been years since I have been physically close with someone. It wasn’t worth the hassle. I like the first part of a relationship. The dating, talking, exciting sex. Learning about each other. But after just a couple months, that excitement would fade. The guy would be spending all of his time at my place. I would end up cooking for him, cleaning up after him, bearing the brunt of his bad moods. So I would end it, but the next person I dated would act exactly the same. I’m not sure if that’s just how most men are, or how I am or both. Briefly, I tried a string of casual encounters and friends-with-benefits situations, but I ended up with the same issues. The men in my life always seem to want more and more from me while giving me less and less.
The past six years all of my time is spent online. Every friend I had was an online friend and I wouldn’t know them if I met them in real life. Any sexual fulfillment I experienced was online too. Back at my apartment I have an array of outfits, toys and cameras. While those experiences could be really hot in their own way, I did miss physical touch. Not enough to start dating again though.
The upshot of all that is that I hadn’t realized how touch-starved I’ve been. Jasper hugging me yesterday and being on me this morning is filling up a battery I didn’t know was depleted.
He mutters sleepily against my hair, then rolls back. I follow him. Not thinking or deciding, just snuggling up to his side as he settles on his back.
Okay this is getting out of hand. The script has been flipped and instead of seducing him and turning him into a desperate puddle of masculinity, I’m the one who is craving his touch? I’m the one who is obviously catching feelings while he is uninvested?
This is unacceptable. I have dropped the ball somewhere and I need to fix this.
Thinking over what all happened yesterday, I can see that I have made mistakes at every step. I should not have complimented him so much. I shouldn’t have talked so much, and I definitely shouldn’t have told him so much about myself. Men like to win. They want to turn a no into a yes, they want to chase, and convince, and manipulate until they accomplish the goal. And the goal should have been winning me. How is he going to treat me like a prize if I’m just throwing myself at him for no reason?
It really sucks that I’ve screwed up this badly because Jasper is the best prospect who walked into that rest area. Now I’ve messed things up beyond repair and I’m going to have to find someone else if I’m ever going to have the upper hand.
Right after the CDC was hit (There was never any clarity on what happened. CNN said it was an unmanned drone that bombed it, FOX said it was a terrorist suicide bomber and NPR said that it wasn’t even confirmed that it had been bombed at all.) there were a few days before the internet and electricity went down. There were attacks all over the country. Military bases, nuclear plants, dams, tunnels, bridges, one after another and in discord groups and on reddit people were saying all kinds of dumb things about what we should do and who was responsible. Nobody knew, it was all guesses. One reddit post and corresponding discord gained a lot of traction very quickly. It was titled ‘Walk With Me,’ the author outlined what our future was going to look like with our infrastructure destroyed. Everything was going to go dark, we’re going to run out of food, we won’t have safe drinking water. The whole country is going to descend into violence and chaos and there’s nothing we can do to keep ourselves safe at this point. Then they wrote about what happens to women, children, the elderly and the disabled in combat zones and disaster areas. In conclusion, they made the case that while we can choose, we don’t have to go through this. We can go to a beach, fill our pockets with rocks and walk out until we can’t anymore. It could be over in moments instead of months and we could skip all of the fear, sickness, hunger, assault, torture, just skip it and go straight to the inevitable end. This violated Reddit’s TOS and it was taken down, but it kept getting reposted everywhere. The following days, social media lives and reels where filled with women getting together in ever-larger groups and doing exactly what the author of that post suggested.
I was tempted for about an hour. Just because everything else that people were suggesting sounded so dumb, but this post made sense.
But then I wondered if all of these women could have found community with each other instead? At least 40,000 women ‘took a walk.’ That’s an army. That’s a whole town. They could have worked together to figure out solutions, protect each other and get through this. I couldn’t fault their decisions, but I felt like there were more options than the ones presented in that post. Things might be dire, but they weren’t that dark, not yet.
Then a man who subscribed to my content messaged me, letting me know that he has a homestead out in the country in Wisconsin. He has a well, a wind turbine and solar panels all set up. If I would make my way to the address provided, we could live in relative comfort and safety.
Now, I have no way of getting to Wisconsin and I didn’t trust this offer. It could be a trick. Who knows how this guy would treat me when he has me at his mercy? He probably sent this message out to tons of women and what would he do if more than one showed up? So, I ignored that message, but it planted an idea in my mind, and I started thinking about preppers.
I needed to make a plan. Hedge my bets.
I still need to do that.
So, I can enjoy Jasper’s company and snuggle up with him and stuff, but he isn’t the one. What I need is a guy who can’t resist me. When I offer the only currency I have in this world, I need a man who won’t say no, won’t even hesitate. Who does everything in his power to keep me with him, to keep me happy and sweet and pliable. That is how I improve my odds of surviving this world. Anything short of obsessive devotion is not enough.
“Your hair smells nice,” Jasper mumbles sleepily. The bicep I’m laying my head on moves and I feel a hand on my lower back.
“It’s dry shampoo.”
“Hmmm.”
His other hand comes across, twirling my strands around his finger, then massaging my scalp.
The hand in my hair forms a fist, the one on my back darts down to my ass and grabs tightly. I’m jerked up, face to face with him. He studies my face for a moment, and his eyes look black in the muted light from the sparse windows.
The hand in my hair tightens a smidge and he delivers a tiny, barely-touching kiss to my top lip.
“Is this okay?” he asks, his mouth barely a millimeter away from mine.
“Yeah—yes,” I manage to hiss.
He kisses the daylights out of me, his tongue caressing mine, enticing me to reciprocate. The beard ads a novel sensation to this kiss. I’m not sure that I have ever kissed a guy with a full beard before.
He holds me tight and still against him, taking complete control of me and the kiss. Every thought is driven out of my head, and I’m left a needy buddle of feeling, all I want is more. All I care about is getting naked with this man as quickly as possible.
Instead of getting naked, he releases me, sits up and slaps me on the ass.
“Let’s get out of here. Grab whatever you want from the front of the store. We shouldn’t hang around too long,” he says.
I’m still regaining control of my mind and body and he’s already on his feet, packing up.
Ugh.