Read Online After The Virus by Meghan Ciana Doidge - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Meghan Ciana Doidge
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normally been spared, especially the females.“
Buddy lapsed into silence and Asshole took up the narrative. “Then he made sure we walked you past the birth center, if you can call it that.”
“He had you sit in the hole for six days with the cattle, to cut you down; had me bring my brother… ” Here his anger dimmed, and he faltered.
“The other women… the cattle…” She couldn’t finish the question.
“Infertile, too old, they’re… feeders, for them, you know,” Buddy answered.
“He’s gonna do things to you I can’t imagine. I hope I get to see the results.” Excitement-spittle formed at the edges of Asshole’s lips.
“My arms are numb.” She tried a play for sympathy in Buddy’s direction. “One of my wrists feels broken.” Buddy didn’t lift his gaze from the fire.
“You don’t need arms for what he wants you for,” Asshole sneered. “Or legs either. You’re gonna breed the Boss’s Sons of New World Order. And breed, and breed, and breed.”
He cackled and wandered over to the fire. Rhiannon’s heart stopped beating, which wasn’t at all helpful.
She deliberately leaned on her broken wrist, and the resulting jag of pain shocked her heart.
“Least she’s awake now,” Buddy muttered. “Lost us two days.”
“Better than punishment for delivering her dead,” Asshole reminded him as he retrieved some poor animal’s leg from the fire and gnawed it.
“Hell, if she was dead, we’d have to run for it,” Buddy whined. “Bad enough, returning without it, your brother, I mean. He hates losing them.”
“Yeah, but we ain’t going take the blame for that.” Asshole turned to smile maliciously; pieces of dead flesh between his teeth.
Rhiannon tried to ignore him as she struggled to sit up. Her movement pulled her wet t-shirt tight across her chest and drew his foul eyes again.
“I bet she was giving it up freely to that cowboy guy,” Asshole pondered. “Not like she’s any virgin. Boss wouldn’t know the difference.”
“It’s your neck.” Buddy shrugged.
“We could cut out her tongue, like they did in the real old days,” Asshole suggested. Buddy looked at her.
“The real old days,” Buddy murmured like he was actually thinking about it. Rhiannon, despite being hog-tied, tried to look as intimidating as possible.
“Nah,” Buddy decided. “Boss probably wants her tongue plus she might bite. I hate that.”
Asshole snorted, but did drop the subject of rape.
∞
She could hear the river. They’d been on foot for half a day. Asshole and Buddy were still hoping to find motorcycles, while she looked for escape routes. They had her on a fucking chain; probably the one they’d had around Its neck. The Infected. Of course, she knew how to pick a lock; she’d played a thief once.
They had dragged her to her feet at dawn, but soon figured out she couldn’t stand yet. She buckled and heaved bile out of her empty gut.
Buddy, the idiot, had remarked, “Geesh, maybe she’s really hurt. I seen her take harder falls, in that cool dragon movie, what’s it called?”
“That was the stunt guy, you moron.” Asshole hauled her to her feet again. “She’s got a concussion; think she was faking the knocked out part?”
Rhiannon spat remnants. Before, when she’d been unconscious, they had carted her on a gurney made from a La-Z-Boy. It was weird what you found abandoned on the side of the road, but long term, that would be impractical.
She wondered briefly if Will was tracking her, and then realized that Snickers was his priority; plus he wouldn’t know which way to start. Besides, she only felt like being rescued because she was in a certain amount of pain, and she didn’t think walking was going to help much.
Focus on the facts.
She was on her hands and knees at their asshole feet. They planned to enslave her as the concubine of a bigger asshole. She laughed, a little like she might slit their throats. They stopped debating movie titles.
Buddy lapsed into silence and Asshole took up the narrative. “Then he made sure we walked you past the birth center, if you can call it that.”
“He had you sit in the hole for six days with the cattle, to cut you down; had me bring my brother… ” Here his anger dimmed, and he faltered.
“The other women… the cattle…” She couldn’t finish the question.
“Infertile, too old, they’re… feeders, for them, you know,” Buddy answered.
“He’s gonna do things to you I can’t imagine. I hope I get to see the results.” Excitement-spittle formed at the edges of Asshole’s lips.
“My arms are numb.” She tried a play for sympathy in Buddy’s direction. “One of my wrists feels broken.” Buddy didn’t lift his gaze from the fire.
“You don’t need arms for what he wants you for,” Asshole sneered. “Or legs either. You’re gonna breed the Boss’s Sons of New World Order. And breed, and breed, and breed.”
He cackled and wandered over to the fire. Rhiannon’s heart stopped beating, which wasn’t at all helpful.
She deliberately leaned on her broken wrist, and the resulting jag of pain shocked her heart.
“Least she’s awake now,” Buddy muttered. “Lost us two days.”
“Better than punishment for delivering her dead,” Asshole reminded him as he retrieved some poor animal’s leg from the fire and gnawed it.
“Hell, if she was dead, we’d have to run for it,” Buddy whined. “Bad enough, returning without it, your brother, I mean. He hates losing them.”
“Yeah, but we ain’t going take the blame for that.” Asshole turned to smile maliciously; pieces of dead flesh between his teeth.
Rhiannon tried to ignore him as she struggled to sit up. Her movement pulled her wet t-shirt tight across her chest and drew his foul eyes again.
“I bet she was giving it up freely to that cowboy guy,” Asshole pondered. “Not like she’s any virgin. Boss wouldn’t know the difference.”
“It’s your neck.” Buddy shrugged.
“We could cut out her tongue, like they did in the real old days,” Asshole suggested. Buddy looked at her.
“The real old days,” Buddy murmured like he was actually thinking about it. Rhiannon, despite being hog-tied, tried to look as intimidating as possible.
“Nah,” Buddy decided. “Boss probably wants her tongue plus she might bite. I hate that.”
Asshole snorted, but did drop the subject of rape.
∞
She could hear the river. They’d been on foot for half a day. Asshole and Buddy were still hoping to find motorcycles, while she looked for escape routes. They had her on a fucking chain; probably the one they’d had around Its neck. The Infected. Of course, she knew how to pick a lock; she’d played a thief once.
They had dragged her to her feet at dawn, but soon figured out she couldn’t stand yet. She buckled and heaved bile out of her empty gut.
Buddy, the idiot, had remarked, “Geesh, maybe she’s really hurt. I seen her take harder falls, in that cool dragon movie, what’s it called?”
“That was the stunt guy, you moron.” Asshole hauled her to her feet again. “She’s got a concussion; think she was faking the knocked out part?”
Rhiannon spat remnants. Before, when she’d been unconscious, they had carted her on a gurney made from a La-Z-Boy. It was weird what you found abandoned on the side of the road, but long term, that would be impractical.
She wondered briefly if Will was tracking her, and then realized that Snickers was his priority; plus he wouldn’t know which way to start. Besides, she only felt like being rescued because she was in a certain amount of pain, and she didn’t think walking was going to help much.
Focus on the facts.
She was on her hands and knees at their asshole feet. They planned to enslave her as the concubine of a bigger asshole. She laughed, a little like she might slit their throats. They stopped debating movie titles.
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