Zombie apocalypse fiction – Ruth’s Story #198 Camp Activities Somewhere Near Warm Beach, WA #TEOTWAWKI #SHTF #WROL

The man mumbles something as he wanders away. Shack leans around the hood of the Dodge.

“Who the fuck was that?” Shack ask as he holsters his pistol.

“Just some horny asshole, dear. Forget about him. We need this truck running and then we need to do our basic maintenance before our guard rotation.”

Just as I am getting worried about the battery level in this old truck, with a cloud of black smoke the Cummins engine cranks to life. We idle the truck for an hour, while we are cleaning out the garbage from the truck and perform other basic maintenance.

Dolcent swings by checking on our fuel level. Shack and Dolcent talk for a little while, and I get the impression that Dolcent is interested in Shack in more of a personal level. I try not to be jealous; there are only a few women in the convoy as men still outnumber us.

After Dolcent rides off on her bicycle, Shack is unusually quiet. I want to pry, but give him some space as he is obviously thinking on something that Dolcent said. I am curious as to what Dolcent could have possibly said to make Shack so pensive.

We clean the truck in silence. Even the usually talkative Honey is quiet. Living in our truck results in a level of grime and filth that I had never imagined. Honey found some undiluted Simple Green in a closet on the compound. Using a little of the pine tree-smelling cleaner, we scrub the doors and dash of the truck.

One thing not lacking is the surplus of extra clothes we use as rags. Tossing the dirty rags in the bushes after we are done makes me feel a little guilty. Our truck certainly smells better.

Shack finally explains what Dolcent wanted. She is not happy working and living with the fueling team and wants to join our truck. She will still maintain the fuel logs, but she does not wish to sleep with the fuel team anymore.

Several members of the fuel team pressure Dolcent for sex; she is tired of sleeping in fear that someone will force her. We have room in our tent, but our truck even with the extended cab is getting crowded. I will have to think on letting Dolcent join our truck.

Shack agrees and the next time Dolcent checks our fuel level Shack informs her that I will think about it for a while. I want a talk with the other members of our truck before I make an impetuous decision. I will even ask Monster, since he is talking now if he would mind another rider.

Our guard rotation was an exercise in mind numbing boredom while standing in the mud-filled rain. By the early evening the mud content of the rain slackens perhaps we are through the worst of the debris kicked up by the close impact.

At supper that night Dolcent sits with us rather than the fuel team. There are some dark looks from some of the members of fuel team as Dolcent sits beside Shack. I understand Dolcent’s reason for wanting to leave the fuel team. As the only officially unattached female in the fuel team Dolcent is under a lot of pressure.

We eat mostly in silence concentrating on filling our bellies with hot food. Dolcent leans into Shack and whispers something in his ear that turns him bright red. Dolcent gives me a nod and leaves our table quickly when she is done.

Supper is a thick hot stew of mixed meat (including hot dogs) and vegetables accompanied by fresh warm bread. The mystery meat is a little stringy and only God knows what it used to be when alive.

We eat a lot of things now that I never would have even considered as food. Squirrels, groundhogs, prairie dogs, raccoons, opossums, crows, ravens, starlings, pigeons, grackles, marmots, and even the occasional dog found its way into our stew pots.

Our Gatherers use slingshots with marbles and ball bearings as ammo. Harvesting birds using shotguns attract too much attention and uses our finite ammo supply. I understand that UHT or MRE peanut butter spread on the toe of a Gatherer’s boot is a good way to lure pigeons in range of a slingshot.

Seagulls and raccoons are fortunate that they taste so bad that we avoid eating them except in the direst of times. So far every raccoon we ate has been a fight to keep in my stomach. Rabbits are hares are so rare as to be nonexistent in our meals. We stew almost all of our meats so as not to waste any protein.

The thick slices of warm brown bread are heavenly. We splurge and spread some of our carefully hoarded small patties of butter on our slices of bread sprinkling them with a little salt. God the warm bread and butter melts in my mouth. All of us are a lot leaner than we were before KCAP.

The men and women look good with the softness of the former world melted off of them. Men such as Shack put on as much as 20 pounds of lean muscle. I worry that we may go on short rations.

I have lost the extra weight in my hips and my breasts are one again small enough that a tight men’s small tee-shirt is enough to cover and support my tits. I am practically flat chested again, but Shack does not seem to mind. With smaller breasts, my nipples are more sensitive and responsive when Shack and I make love.

I did manage to speak with Starshina 1^st Class Dragomirova concerning sleeping with Honey. Alexandra Dragomirova prefers to be called Sashka. Despite her gruff exterior and the profanity, I find Sashka to be a nice woman ignorant of Honey’s age.

Sashka will apologize to Honey but I get the distinct feeling that she still wishes to sleep with her. The sergeant gave me the eye a few times, but I am with Shack and not interested in sharing him. Chow tent intelligence implies that Shaska is not interested in men at all.

A lot of the members of our convoy have adopted polyamory because of the shortage of women. Group marriages are not uncommon, and a woman sharing several men is also common. Monogamous couples such as Carol and Nikola and Shack and I are not as common.

Older members of the population requiring medicine to live have died as have many of the infirm. Some of the first casualties were older members of Congress and the Senate. Several older lawmakers dropped dead once they ran out of modern medicine.

Modern medicine kept a lot of people alive who should have died a long time ago. KCAP wiped the weak and infirm from our population. Unfortunately, because of several factors more women have died than men, leaving women in the minority.

Our radio watch is a repeat of the previous night’s, but this time we have the 2000 to 0000 watch. Relieving Ben and Randy, who quickly leave for their cots was done in near silence. In turn we are relieved by Nikola and Carol carrying a sleeping well-bundled Stiva.