[Ben]
I felt deep inside that I couldn't return to my hideout the same way. I knew it was best to stay away from abandoned buildings, but I still decided that nothing bad would happen.
Noticing a car next to a one-story building that used to be a small shop, I quickly hid behind a tree. Taking out binoculars from my backpack, I carefully examined the building and noticed some young punk with a gun near the main entrance. Even a fool could tell that the punk wasn't alone, and I wasn't a fool, that is if my late cellmate Frankie wasn't lying.
There weren't many options: either make a detour around the shop or approach the punk, knock him out, and then take a look inside. This venture ended in failure for me, a seasoned marauder.
After spending half a day, I found almost nothing, but I almost ended up as lunch for hungry creatures. They were creatures resembling zombies, but unlike classic zombies, these creatures moved on all fours, and they moved very fast.
One bite from such a creature, and in an hour, you turn into one yourself unless you manage to inject the antidote. Ghouls weren't very active during daylight hours and were quite rare to encounter, but the risk of running into them greatly increased in the evening or at night.
Barely escaping from those creatures and losing my backpack with collected junk along the way, I once again had a chance to return home not empty-handed. It was worth the risk, at least for the punk's gun and the rusty heap he came here with.
As soon as the guy turned his back to me, I rushed to the shop. I only had a sawed-off shotgun and a couple of spare rounds, as well as a bat for weapons. Afraid that the gunshot might alert the punk's friends, I decided to use the bat. The clueless idiot hardly understood what happened until it was too late. Admiring his car, the punk noticed the shadow on the ground too late, and when he turned towards me, he didn't even manage to raise his weapon.
One swing of the bat, and the dim-witted punk dropped his gun and fell at my feet. Tossing the gun into the car, which had no windows, I entered the shop.
"Let me go, you disgusting bastard!" A female voice reached me.
"Shut up, bitch!" came the immediate response.
Changing the bat to the shotgun, I quickened my pace, thinking to myself that if there were more than three enemies, I had nothing to catch here. I understood what was going on here before I passed the empty shelves and approached the counter.
The punk had only two friends. One of them stood by the wall, holding a knife to the throat of a slender red-haired girl in a green shirt and tattered light-blue jeans. She looked about n years old or a little older. Meanwhile, the second thug was violating a woman in a gray blouse, bending her over the counter. The woman didn't resist, but something told me that she didn't enjoy what was happening.
With a few final thrusts, the satisfied guy kept his thing inside the woman, and only after about 10 seconds, he pulled out. Patting the woman on her butt, the guy removed the condom from his thing and started pulling up his pants. I had never encountered such careful rapists who cared about their health in these parts.
"Not bad. Now we can try the redhead," the rapist said with a satisfied voice.
"What?" the woman frightenedly screamed, turning her face toward the rapist.
"Exactly what you heard, you stupid bitch!" he replied, delivering a resounding slap.
The red-haired girl immediately started struggling. Kicking the second guy in the leg, the girl broke free and rushed to help her friend. The lover of slaps met her with a kick to the stomach. The girl curled up and began to struggle for breath. The guy, whom the redhead kicked, knocked her to the floor and started kicking her.
"Stop! Enough!" the woman shouted.
In a way, I felt a little sorry for this pair, but I didn't intend to interfere in their educational process. Such things happened all the time. They weren't the first, and they wouldn't be the last. Deciding to quietly slip away, I took a few steps back and stepped on an empty glass bottle, which immediately rolled across the floor with a characteristic sound.
"What a clumsy fool you are!" - a rather unhappy thought flashed through my mind.
Naturally, both rapists heard the noise. Realizing that I wouldn't be able to sneak away quietly now, I jumped out from behind the shelves and fired a shotgun blast into the chest of the first rapist, then hit the one who enjoyed kicking. The woman looked at me with a worried expression, adjusted her sagging panties and skirt, and then rushed to the red-haired girl.
"Are you okay?" the concerned woman asked.
"I'm fine," the girl replied in a subdued voice.
After reloading the shotgun, I approached the rescued pair.
"Thanks for intervening," the woman thanked me.
"You're welcome," I replied and leaned over the nearest corpse.
All he had on him was an empty gun and the car keys. The second one had only a knife and a pack of condoms. Not a great haul, but it could have been worse.
"How about your supplies? Do you have anything with you?" I inquired curiously.
The woman turned around. My gaze wandered over her chest, visible under the torn gray blouse. A natural C-cup, not more, not less.
"Nothing. We haven't eaten anything for almost a day, and we came here hoping to find something," she said.
I didn't catch much of what she said because, like an idiot, I was staring at her bare breasts. Though I wasn't a lustful masturbator during puberty, I was still a flesh-and-blood person. And since my last sexual encounter was three weeks or even a month ago, my reaction was quite expected. The woman brought me back to reality, covering her breasts.
"In my hideout, there's still something left. Not a feast, of course, but at least something," I belatedly replied.
The woman got up and helped her companion stand.
"Is your hideout far from here?" the redhead asked.
"If we go on foot, it's not close. If there's enough gasoline in the car outside, we'll be there in about 15 minutes."
Fortunately, there was more than enough gasoline. After starting the car, my companions introduced themselves. The busty one was called Cynthia, and the redhead was Emma.
[Emma]
I didn't like the dark-haired bearded guy in the sleeveless vest who came to our rescue from the first sight. It's not that I was a complete bitch, judging a book by its cover, but something told me that nobility and altruism were foreign to our savior. During the time my mother and I traveled through this new world, we encountered mostly assholes. Well, sometimes we met decent guys, but they were rather exceptions to the rule.
When Ben took us to his, as he put it, hideout, I caught myself thinking that our shaggy bear was quite lucky with his den. Next to the wooden two-story house, where he apparently lived, stood a small dilapidated shed. To destroy this wretchedness, one could simply blow on it. Parking the car next to the house, Ben, for some reason, went to the shed. He came out with several packages of chips and vegetables.
"If you want to know my opinion, we should borrow some food and a car from this bear. And also his hideout," I whispered to my mom.
Mom shook her head reproachfully.
"We can't do that," Cynthia said.
I love my mom, but sometimes her humility really pisses me off. "Can't do that" and "Must do that" are the two most frequently spoken phrases by her. What kind of arguments are these?
When my stomach betrayed me with a growl, I realized that before looking for reasons in favor of my proposal, we should eat something first.
Ben didn't invite us inside his house, but silently handed us the food and went into the house. I finished the carrot in three bites. The chips were too salty, but I didn't have to deal with them for long. When Ben came out of the house with a mug of water, I crumpled the empty package and threw it on the back seat. The bear looked at me somewhat unfriendly and seemed about to say something, but my mom beat him to it.
"Can we stay here for a few days?" Cynthia asked in a plaintive tone.
Ben shook his head.
"We can help with some work. We won't take up much space," my mom persisted.
Ben's gaze lingered on my mom's chest, which made me want to punch him in the genitals. The bear seemed to hear my thoughts and immediately turned his gaze to me.
"To be honest, I could use some help. There's a bathtub in the shed. Fetch water in it, and you can consider that you've paid for a few days' stay," he offered.
To my fully expected question of where to get water here, Ben explained that there was a small lake nearby. I didn't dare to refuse to carry water, but I demanded that he give me some kind of weapon, even the crappiest. Ben just laughed, went to the shed, and came back with two rusty buckets.
"If someone attacks you, you can beat them to death with these buckets," he said with a smile, handing me the buckets.
My innate distrust made itself felt again. The bear had agreed to accept us too quickly. There was a catch, and I even guessed what it was, but I sincerely hoped that it wouldn't come to that.