Corn, Cows, and the Apocalypse (Part 1) (18 page)

-Did Someone Say Ecstasy?-

             
It was probably the drugs.  I had only had a little bit, but there was no other explanation for me diving on Garrett like a fresh batch of cookies.  He was momentarily shocked and tensed for battle, but as soon as my tongue forced its way in his mouth, he came around. 

             
He grabbed at me pulling my body against his.  When he moved his hands to my arms in an attempt to get control of the situation, I pulled his pelvis against my hip.  He pulled away with a groan and took a few breaths.  Perhaps he wasn’t pulling away, so much as searching for air. 

             
“Lenore I still can’t be with you.”

             
“I know.”  I said kissing and licking down his neck until a reached his t-shirt.  Clothes suck.

             
“I’m leaving after the tournament.  I won’t see you.  This is all we would have.”

             
“Why are you still wearing your pants?”  I ground out while I reached into his pants for the real feel.  He wrenched away despite the moan of pleasure he offered.  This was certainly the drugs. 

             
“Okay, okay, slow down though.  Save some for yourself.”  He tried to push me to the counter, but I pushed him into one of the stalls.  We immediately left that stall and found another.  I wanted sex not dysentery. 

             
After a quick discussion, it was decided, that his pants would stay on, slightly lowered, with the fly open.  I on the other hand disrobed the lower half, and offered the use of my front clasp bra for the purpose it was intended. 

             
With my t-shirt behind my neck and my panties around my wrist, lest they touch anything in that bathroom, I took my place on my throne.  I nearly climaxed just from the pleasure of that first encounter.  That was definitely the drugs. 

-Never Enough Time or Apologies-

             
“Let’s go again.”  I said even though I knew I had spent him.

             
“I can’t.  I’m going to be late for the preliminaries.” 

             
“Oh crap, I still have to watch this damn tournament.”  I cringed, but retrieved some hope for a happy ending.  “We should hook up after, before you leave, okay.”

             
“I’ll try.”  He said.

             
“That means no.”  I rolled my eyes. 

             
He pulled me down for a hard kiss.  “I’ll try, but I can’t exactly pull you into a bathroom after the tournament, there won’t be an empty stall for miles.”  I nodded disappointed, even though I knew by the time the tournament was over, I would probably be regretting this rendezvous as it was.  “Is this one of mine?”  He asked touching one of my now many scars.  He tickled my stomach and I flinched.  The giggle I couldn’t help but let out made him smile.  That was a rare treat. 

             
“That’s my appendix scar.” 

             
“I thought so.  I know what my handy work looks like.”  He lost his smile, though I wasn’t sure why since he was the one trying to make light of the scars. 

             
“Well, you stitched most of them up, you should recognize them.”  I offered to assure him that I wasn’t holding him accountable for doing August’s dirty work.

             
He touched one such scar that marred my belly.  It was from a broken beer bottle.  Not so much from him, but from my inability to control my weapon during a fight.  “That one made me want to stop.”  He looked up at my head and pushed my hair back to see the long gouge from the fire axe.  “That one too.”

             
“They all kind of made me want to stop.”  I was intending it as a joke, but he grimaced. 

             
“You know I can’t apologize for any of these don’t you?”

             
“Why because you’ll lose the advantage of me being afraid of you?”

             
“Are you…afraid of me?”  His faced looked pained.  He might have actually been wounded if I said yes. 

             
“You’ve hurt me a lot, but you’ve offered me a good deal of pleasure.”  I flexed my groin for effect since I hadn’t dismounted yet.  “I’m not afraid of you in this position.”

             
He rubbed my arms which made me break out in goose bumps.  “I can’t apologize for them, because I’m proud of them.  I’m proud of what I’ve forced you to become.”  I nodded.  I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that.  “Also…you’re going to hate me for this, but I think they’re kind of hot.”  I scrunched up my nose at the idea of him preferring my body with scars.

             
Before I could reply, he pulled my face down for a kiss.  He pulled on my shoulders driving me onto him.  I hadn’t even realized he had revived.  I responded in kind widening my stance to better receive his generous second helping.

-
The Mecca of Mecca-

             
By the time I met back up with August and Devin in the main entryway, they looked wrought with concern.  I could sense they wanted to console me, and explain, and blah, blah, blah.  I was running on a high from good sex and the energetic cheering vibrating through the stadium like heavy bass.  I didn’t want to talk about my past.  I was actually excited to see the tournament. 

             
“Oh, don’t be such sour pusses.”  I said coming up.  “I’m fine.”

             
Devin approached me prepared to take me in his arms, but at the last second he flinched, concerned he might break me.  I wrapped my arm around his waist instead, and he kissed the top of my head.  August looked at ease to see me calm, but worry was still etched on her face. 

             
“Did my brother find you?  He wanted to check on you, even though I insisted he leave you alone.”

             
“Yes, he found me.  He sorted out my nose.  We both yelled and screamed for a bit, but I think we’re satisfied now.”  I almost smiled at my inside joke, so I changed the subject.  “Where’s Haden?”

             
“She’s already inside.”  Devin said.  “The preliminaries have already started.  You still want to watch don’t you?” 

             
I could have told him I wanted ice cream and he would have driven me straight to a walk in freezer at a DQ, but I knew how much he wanted to see the games.  Plus it would be super rude to not support my new savior in her quest to be the best at the Qwest. 

             
Oh yeah, I said that. 

             
“Of course I want to see the tournament.  It sounds like a concert in there.”  I nodded to the general direction of the hoopla. 

             
“Oh, you’re going to love this, Lenore.”  He took my hand and led me.  August strolled behind us offering a slight smile, amused by Devin’s boyish excitement as well.  “This place is packed with people, some of them from three states away.  Apparently, we aren’t the only ones starving for some excitement.

             
Devin released my hand to open the door for me, and a wave of noise, and heat hit me.  It was enough to make me pause, but the awe of it drew me in.  I had been in stadiums before, I had been to concerts, and football games, but there was something different about the atmosphere of this occasion.

             
Perhaps it was simply the fact that I hadn’t been in the presence of more than a dozen live humans in over a year.  Or perhaps it was the electrical energy that people naturally produce when they are joined together in one common goal.  I thought it was something else, though.  This event was a reincarnation of an entertainment that humanity had not permitted publically in centuries.  The crowd wasn’t shaking the stadium floor because they wanted a high score.               They wanted blood.

             
I felt the energy sink in as I got a view of the first stage of the tournaments, which had already begun.  The first ranking would rule out the least skilled competitors.  The arena was filled with sand, amplifying the Greek coliseum imagery.  The men and women stood in line like old west gun fighters ready for a showdown.  Grim were lined on the other side of the arena caged like horses before a run.  They’re clothes distinctive to their lane. 

             
The horn sounded and the grim were released.  Unlike horses the grim jumped out with no agenda other than killing.  Some ran straight at their shooters.  Others ran sideways in an attempt to get to the “handlers.”  The shooters fired at their specific grim regardless of how off track they got. 

             
The gun’s fired.  Most of the grim went down with one shot, some took two.  The few stragglers that were missed twice by their shooters were given bullets in the head by sharp shooters in the rafters.  I looked up at the military personnel dangling in crow’s cages 30…40…a bunch of feet up.  The mayor had outdone himself to ensure the safety of the competitors, as well as the crowd.         

             
Devin guided me along by the elbow since I was no longer looking where I was going.  I was vaguely aware of the goofy smile I had on my face.  Once guided to the front row of the balcony seats, Devin pulled on my arm and patted my butt to sit.  I did so without any question or concern that he would lead me wrong. 

             
He leaned over to my ear and spoke loudly.  “Magnificent isn’t it?”  My smile widened and I grabbed his hand to squeeze it.  He squeezed back.  I was aware that he was watching me more than the games, but I was too stricken to care. 

             
Around the bend was a series of box seats that were normally reserved for VIP’s. I could see our illustrious mayor and his entourage golf-clapping the festivities and drinking wine—anything to distinguish themselves as better than the surrounding honky beer drinkers. 

             
One of his minions caught my eye he was particularly attractive.  Not the model that our own Devin was, but definitely a diamond in the rough of fat, old, greying politicians.  He was a blonde Ken doll, with a perfect natural wave that made it look like he spent hours gelling it into position.  His grey suit jacket and cream turtleneck sweater was screaming rich, but casual. 

             
Since no one and everyone was rich now, the status no longer mattered, but you could still tell who came from money and who didn’t—usually by the number of double negatives they used.  The most appealing thing about the intriguing stranger was his relaxed “I’m just watching the game with my friends-leg up on the rail” pose. 

             
His head turned to scan the crowd, and I could see the determination in his face. He was searching for something or someone.  I smiled wishing that that someone could be me.  I was almost entirely sure by this point that I was totally high.  I’m such a light weight.

             
His gaze stopped…on me.  I giggled covering my mouth.  I looked behind me to see if I was completely misinterpreting his perspective.  When I turned back he pointed at me, indicating, “yes, you.”  I yelped and sunk in my chair.

             
“What are you doing?”  Devin said leaning over to me. 

             
“I think I’m flirting.”  I busted out with laughter.  Yes, definitely high. 

             
Devin scanned the crowd, but Blonde Ken had looked away from me.  Damn. 

             
“What is wrong with you?”  He asked.  I could see August’s disapproving look on my right, so I turned to speak just so Devin could hear. 

             
“I think I’m high.”  His face clambered with concern, amusement, confusion, and even a little anger, but he settled on amused disapproval before wrapping his arm around me.  I glanced back at Blonde Ken.  As if on cue he turned to me and blew me a kiss.  I beamed and buried my head in Devin’s shoulder.  What the hell was I doing? 

-
Hip Hip Hurray!-

             
My pot buzz left as quickly as it came, but the roar of the crowd and Devin’s untamable enthusiasm kept me going long after.  A beer in one hand and a hot dog in the other I cheered and jeered with the rest of them.  I was never much of a sports fan, but live theater yes, and this was
life or death
theater. 

             
When Haden stepped up for the scoring challenge, I couldn’t help but scoot to the edge of my seat.  I wanted to press my hands together to pray for a good outcome, but even as my hands started to move, August took my hand in hers squeezing it hard, like she also needed to do something with her hands.  I couldn’t help but smile when I saw she had the same antsy expression on her face. 

             
Haden cracked her neck and stared down the arena at the paneled corral stalls that held grim instead of cattle.  As I understood it, her gun held 15 shots.  She had used up one on the first round with a dead on shot to the head, which meant she had fourteen left to shoot at the ten grim about to be released.  If she missed on any shot she would have a disadvantage in the final round. 

             
The faster she shot, the better the score, the more accurate the shot—head, heart—the better the score.  Misses were deductions, as were leg and arm shots, since they weren’t usually enough to stop a grim.  Not to mention the sharp shooters weren’t taking protective shots until her entire clip was empty. 

             
The horn blew and I watched Haden concentrate on her first five distance shots.  She ignored the three fast runners that were barreling right at her and took out the slow ones.  I gripped August’s hand hard.

             
“Why is she doing that?  She needs to get the fast ones.”  I said nearly lifting off my seat to yell at her.

             
“She knows what she’s doing.”  August said confidently even though she was squeezing my hand even harder. 

             
She took down two more that were veering off to find closer prey.  A nervous handler waved happily after she shot an approaching grim.  I was practically kneeling I was so far off my chair.  I couldn’t even think beyond,
please.

             
Haden’s approaching three angled into her from their previous starting points.  They were like the three angry stooges about to pounce on her in quick succession.  At the last nail biting second, she side stepped and shot the first one. 

             
Her sidestep brought the approaching grim from an angled sequential attack to a straight line with her aim.  The first grim’s head shattered like glass.  The second shattered almost simultaneously.  By the third the bullet had slowed, but his face cracked and fell to the ground losing a good quarter of his noggin on impact.  She had killed three birds with one stone.

             
It took a millisecond for the crowd to realize what she had done and we all erupted.  I screamed louder than I thought possible jumping up with August’s hand still in mine.  When I realized I had nearly yanked her arm off, I let her go and hugged her.  I turned back to Devin and he scooped me up and twirled me, wooing all the way. 

             
He gave me a wet kiss that I knew was really intended for Haden, but since I was the only one there, he made do.  When he put me back down, we both screamed our hearts out at Haden and waved frantically to get her attention.   

             
When Haden looked up us, she gave us a reserved nod, but I knew she was holding her smile at bay.  She no doubt wanted to celebrate as much as we were, but since she hadn’t officially won yet, it would have been tactless to do so.  Devin blew her kisses, and I did the same, even though she rolled her eyes at me. 

             
I wiped away the joyful tears that were creeping down my cheeks. August noticed and put her arm around me.  “What’s wrong?”  She furrowed her brow. 

             
I shook my head and shrugged.  “I’m just so happy.” 

             
“You’re proud of her.”  She said more than asked. 

             
“That’s so stupid, I know.”

             
“Why is that stupid?”  August asked tugging on my shoulder. 

             
“She’s the second side kick.  Me being proud of her is like a student being proud of her teacher.”

             
“Pride when bestowed on others is simply a compliment to the action and a measure of love for the recipient.”  I looked up at her.  “It has nothing to do with rank.”  I was about to respond with a joke to lighten the sensei talk, but I was rendered mute by the sudden presence of Mr. Blonde Ken doll standing behind August. 

             
“Excuse me,” his voice thrummed like a bass guitar.  “Is she with you?”  He pointed to Haden. 

             
August pulled me back toward my seat before releasing me.  She turned to face the man, pointedly putting herself between us.  “Who’s asking?”

             
Mr. Blonde looked chagrined, but he smiled warmly despite the insult of her immediate distrust.  “My apologies, my name is Adrian Dorn.”  He reached out his hand to shake August’s but she crossed her arms.  I was surprised she was being so rude.  I peeked over her shoulder and Mr. Blonde…err… Adrian smiled at me.  “Hello.”

             
“I’m Lenore, this is August…”  I threw my hand out beside August to shake his still outstretched hand, but August slapped it away and Devin pulled me back.  I glared at him, but he gave me a stern look that told me I needed to let August handle this. 

             
“Good to meet you Lenore, August.”  Adrian bowed as if we were in the middle of a Jane Austin book.  “I am the director of the games.  I merely wanted to congratulate you on your friend’s success.  I’ve never seen anything like it.”