The sun was sinking low over the horizon, casting a dim orange glow across the battle-scarred landscape surrounding the mansion. The air was thick with the acrid stench of gunpowder, blood, and burnt wood. George leaned against the battered stone wall near the front entrance, his body sore and bruised from the fight. He felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him, but there was no time to rest yet. The others were still outside, gathering up the bodies of the fallen mercenaries and checking the perimeter for any lingering threats.
The mansion had survived another attack. But just barely.
As George stared out across the yard, he could see the remnants of the battle all around him. The once pristine lawn was littered with corpses, mercenaries who had followed Amos to their deaths. Pools of blood soaked into the earth, and the wooden walls they had built as a first line of defense were now charred and splintered, some parts reduced to little more than jagged ruins. Several of the windows had been shattered during the attack, and the front door, though still standing, was hanging off its hinges.
George rubbed his sore shoulder, feeling the familiar throb of pain from where Amos had struck him during their fight. His body ached in places he hadn't even known existed, but that wasn't what weighed heaviest on him. No, it was everything else. The betrayal, the loss, the sheer insanity of the last few weeks.
He had killed Amos. He had saved Grace. And now they were left to pick up the pieces of the shattered remnants of their temporary peace.
Raven walked up beside him, her face streaked with dirt and blood, but her eyes sharp and clear. She had her rifle slung over her shoulder, a constant companion now, even in these moments of uneasy calm. "How you holding up?" she asked quietly, her voice a little hoarse from the fighting.
George exhaled slowly, shrugging. "I'll live. You?"
Raven gave him a small, tired smile. "Still breathing. That's all that matters." She glanced around at the mansion, her eyes lingering on the damaged walls and the broken windows. "We took a hit, though. It's going to take a while to fix all this."
George nodded, knowing she was right. The mansion had taken a beating during the attack, and it would take more than just a few days of hard work to get everything back in order. But they would do it. They always did.
"How's everyone else?" George asked.
"Thomas is still recovering," Raven replied, running a hand through her messy hair. "Danielle's been sticking by his side, helping him out. Marcy's checking the supplies, and the new folks, Erica, Madison, Heather, they've been pitching in wherever they can. We're all beat up, but we'll be alright."
George's gaze shifted to where Grace sat by herself on the front steps, her knees pulled to her chest. She looked lost, broken. After everything that had happened, George wasn't sure how to feel about her. She had betrayed them, had led Amos right to their doorstep. But in the end, she had turned on her father, had begged for help. George knew she was struggling, that she had been manipulated, but the trust between her and the group had been shattered. It would be a long road to earning that back, if she ever could.
"She's not going to be the same," Raven said softly, following George's gaze.
"No," George agreed. "None of us are."
The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken thoughts. George could still feel the adrenaline from the battle coursing through his veins, but now that it was over, all he wanted was a moment of peace.
"Come on," Raven said, nudging him gently. "Let's check on the others."
They walked together toward the backyard, where the rest of the group was finishing up the grim task of gathering the bodies of the mercenaries. Madison and Heather, who had been vital in setting up the explosive trap that had taken out a good portion of Amos's men, were busy piling the corpses near the treeline, preparing for a makeshift funeral pyre. Their faces were somber, though Madison managed a weak smile when she saw George and Raven approaching.
"We've just about finished," Madison said, her voice tired but steady. "It's not pretty, but at least we got through it."
George nodded, giving her a grateful look. "You two did great. That firework idea? It was genius. It saved a lot of lives."
Heather, who had been quiet most of the day, gave a small shrug. "It was Madison's idea, really. I just helped set it up."
Madison gave her a nudge, smiling despite the exhaustion. "Don't sell yourself short. We're a team."
The girls had proven themselves time and time again, and George was grateful for their presence. They were survivors, just like the rest of them.
"Let's get these bodies burned," George said, his voice quieter now. "We don't want them attracting attention."
With heavy hearts and aching muscles, the group finished piling the bodies and set the pyre alight. The flames roared to life, consuming the dead mercenaries in a fiery blaze. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, acrid and suffocating, but there was no other way. They couldn't afford to leave any trace of the battle behind.
The group stood in silence, watching the flames flicker and dance in the twilight. It felt like the end of something, but George knew better. The war wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
As the fire died down, the group slowly made their way back inside the mansion. The light was fading, and the chill of the evening began to creep in. George's muscles screamed with every step, but he pushed through the pain, knowing they still had work to do.
Inside, Marcy had already started organizing the supplies they had managed to scavenge before the attack. She glanced up as George entered, her eyes tired but sharp. "We're running low on food," she said bluntly. "And I'm not sure how long our medical supplies will last, especially with Thomas still healing."
George sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "We'll figure something out. We always do."
Raven walked over to the table where Marcy had spread out the supplies, picking up a few stray bullets and turning them over in her hands. "We're also running low on ammo. Not dangerously low yet, but after this attack, we need to restock soon."
George nodded. "I'll take a team out tomorrow. We need to make another supply run. Food, ammo, medicine, anything we can get our hands on."
Raven looked at him, her expression serious. "You sure you're up for that? After today, you could use some rest."
"I'll rest when we're safe," George replied. His mind was already working, thinking of where they could go for supplies. They couldn't risk staying in one place too long, not after the attack. They needed to be prepared for whatever came next.
The next morning, George stood on the porch, the morning air crisp and biting. He breathed in deeply, taking in the silence. The mansion looked rough, even in the soft light of dawn. Bullet holes riddled the wooden walls, some of the windows were still shattered, and scorch marks from the explosion scarred the ground. It was a painful reminder of the battle they had barely survived.
The others were slowly waking up, shuffling around inside as they prepared for another long day of repairs. George had already spoken to Raven and Marcy that morning about the supply run. They'd decided that George, Lucy, and Elijah would head out to scavenge for food, ammo, and any medical supplies they could find.
"Another day in paradise, huh?" Raven's voice broke the silence as she stepped out onto the porch beside him, tying her hair back in a loose ponytail. She wore her usual black leather jacket, slightly torn at the shoulder from the battle, and a pair of faded jeans that had seen better days. Her Winchester was slung across her back, a constant companion now, even in moments of quiet.
George chuckled, though there was no humor behind it. "Yeah, something like that."
Raven leaned against the porch railing, her eyes scanning the treeline. "You ready for today?"
George nodded, though he wasn't sure he believed it himself. His body was still aching from the fight with Amos, and his mind was a whirl of exhaustion and lingering adrenaline. But they didn't have the luxury of taking it easy. If they didn't go out and get what they needed, they wouldn't last long.
"I'll be fine," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "We'll get what we need and get back. Quick in and out."
Raven looked at him for a long moment, as if weighing his words, before she nodded. "Just be careful, alright? We can't afford to lose anyone."
George met her gaze, appreciating the concern in her eyes. "I will."
A few minutes later, the rest of the group gathered outside. Lucy strolled out with her usual confidence, her dark hair tied up in a messy bun. She had switched out of her Halloween costume and was now dressed in her usual combat-ready attire, tight black jeans, a leather jacket, and sturdy boots. Her M1 Carbine was slung across her chest, and she flashed George a mischievous grin as she adjusted the strap.
"Ready to go, boss?" she teased, calling George "boss" like she had taken to doing lately.
"Let's get this over with," George replied, though he couldn't help but smile at her playful energy. Lucy had a way of keeping things light, even in the middle of chaos.
Elijah appeared next, rifle in hand and his usual calm demeanor intact. He looked well-rested, despite everything that had happened the day before. Dressed in his camouflage jacket and worn-out cargo pants, he was ready for another day of survival. His expression was serious, but George could see the hint of determination in his eyes.
"Everything's set," Elijah said as he approached the group. "I checked the truck. We should be good to go."
George gave a final nod to Raven and Marcy, who would be holding down the fort at the mansion with the others while they were gone. "Keep an eye on things here," George said to Raven. "If you see anything suspicious, don't hesitate to get everyone inside and barricade the doors."
Raven raised an eyebrow. "I know the drill, George. Just make sure you come back in one piece."
With that, the three of them, George, Lucy, and Elijah, headed toward the pickup truck parked near the front of the mansion. The bed of the truck was mostly empty, save for a few crates and supplies they might need for the scavenging run. George climbed into the driver's seat, with Lucy sliding into the passenger seat beside him.
"Shotgun," Lucy had called out earlier with a smirk, claiming the coveted front seat.
Elijah took the back, silent but ever-watchful. The engine roared to life, and George steered the truck down the dirt path leading away from the mansion. As they drove, the familiar landscape of Everwood's outskirts passed by, the tall, rustling trees, the overgrown fields, and the occasional dilapidated house or abandoned vehicle. Everything looked frozen in time, a stillness that was unsettling.
As they drove in relative silence, George felt the tension in the air. Though they tried to act casual, all of them knew that something dark was on the horizon. Winter was coming, and with it, the dangers they had yet to face. But for now, they had a mission.
"Where are we hitting first?" Lucy asked, breaking the silence as she leaned back in her seat. Her leg bounced slightly, a sign of her restless energy.
"There's a hardware store just up the road," George replied, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "We'll check it out for nails, wood, anything we can use to patch up the mansion."
Lucy hummed in agreement. "Sounds good. Let's hope it hasn't been completely picked clean yet."
The truck rumbled down the old road, the tires crunching over loose gravel. The town of Everwood loomed ahead, its small downtown area filled with shuttered storefronts and faded signs. The place looked like a ghost town, the buildings abandoned and lifeless, but George knew better than to let his guard down. Even in a place as quiet as this, danger lurked.
They pulled up outside the hardware store, the faded sign barely legible through the dirt and grime that had built up over the years. George parked the truck along the curb, and the three of them climbed out, weapons at the ready. They moved as a unit, scanning their surroundings for any signs of movement.
The streets were eerily empty.
"I don't like this," Elijah muttered under his breath as he walked up to the store's front door, checking the handle. It was locked, but it didn't take long for him to pry it open with his knife. The door creaked open with a soft groan, and George signaled for them to move inside.
The interior of the hardware store was dark, the shelves dusty and many of them empty. Tools, nails, and bits of old equipment lay scattered around, some of it clearly looted long ago. The air was musty, and George's boots crunched over broken glass as they moved through the aisles.
"Grab what we can," George said quietly. "Wood, nails, anything that'll help fortify the mansion."
They split up, with George and Lucy heading down one aisle while Elijah took the other. Lucy tossed him a sidelong glance, her lips curving into a smirk. "You think they've got a section on post-apocalyptic home repair?"
George snorted. "If they do, I'll make sure to grab a copy."
Lucy chuckled softly, her fingers brushing over the dusty shelves as she searched for supplies. She paused when she came across a box of nails, holding it up triumphantly. "Jackpot."
As they continued gathering supplies, George couldn't help but feel a small flicker of hope. For once, things were going smoothly. No attacks, no zombies, no monsters. Just a normal supply run, at least for now.
But that uneasy feeling still lingered in the back of his mind. Something was coming. He just didn't know what.
After about an hour of gathering everything they needed from the hardware store, the trio loaded up the truck. Elijah secured the crates in the back, while Lucy hopped into the passenger seat with her usual swagger.
"Ready to head back?" George asked, climbing into the driver's seat.
Lucy shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I mean, we could swing by the costume shop, grab something fun for Christmas. I'm thinking you'd look great in a Santa costume."
George raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress a small grin. "You just want an excuse to be my sexy elf."
"You know me too well," Lucy replied, leaning back with a smirk. "Besides, a little fun wouldn't kill us, right? Gotta keep things light."
George chuckled and started the truck. "Alright, let's check it out."
George and Lucy exchanged playful banter as they drove toward the small costume shop near the outskirts of Everwood. The idea of picking up costumes seemed ridiculous after everything they had been through, but in a world where danger lurked around every corner, a little normalcy, no matter how strange, was a welcome distraction.
"So, what do you think?" Lucy asked with a mischievous grin. "You'd make a great Santa for Christmas. All you need is big sack and that red suit."
George gave her a sidelong glance, his eyebrows raised. "As I said earlier, you have this image in your head of you being my sexy helper."
Lucy laughed, the sound filling the truck's cabin. "Busted. But seriously, we could use a little holiday spirit around here. You know, something to look forward to besides the constant apocalypse stuff."
George couldn't argue with that. As they drove, he realized how much had changed in just a few short weeks. It seemed like they had been fighting nonstop, first the refugees, then Amos and his mercenaries. A break in the chaos, even if brief, wasn't such a bad idea.
They pulled up to the small costume shop, its windows dusty but intact. The faded sign hanging over the door read "Everwood Costumes and More!". George parked the truck, and the two of them stepped out, weapons slung over their shoulders as they approached the entrance.
The inside of the shop was cluttered with racks of costumes, props, and decorations. It smelled faintly of dust and old fabric, but everything seemed mostly untouched. Lucy's eyes lit up the moment they stepped inside.
"Oh, this is gonna be fun," she said, already heading toward a rack of holiday-themed costumes. She began flipping through the outfits, holding them up to herself in the mirror. "What do you think? Sexy reindeer or naughty snowman?"
George chuckled as he watched her. "You're ridiculous."
"Ridiculously hot, you mean," she shot back, winking at him. "Come on, George. Pick something out. You can't tell me you've never dreamed of playing Santa."
"Fine, I'll be Santa," George replied, though he couldn't help but grin. "But you're free to go nuts. Try on as many as you like."
Lucy grinned and immediately dove into the racks, pulling out outfit after outfit and trying them on in rapid succession. First, it was a candy cane-striped elf costume, complete with jingle bells. Then, she tried on a glittery angel outfit, twirling in front of the mirror as she modeled it for him.
"Cute, but not quite my style," she said, tossing it aside.
George leaned back against a shelf, arms crossed, amused by the spectacle. But then Lucy emerged from the dressing room wearing a cheerleader's outfit, tight, revealing, and undeniably sexy. The sight of her in that outfit made his pulse quicken, and he felt a surge of heat run through him that he couldn't ignore.
Lucy noticed the shift in his expression immediately, her lips curving into a knowing smirk. "Oh? I think someone likes what he sees," she teased, her voice dropping to a lower, more sultry tone.
George swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He tried to play it cool, but the way she looked in that cheerleader outfit was pushing every button he had.
"I, uh… you look great," he said, his voice a little hoarse.
Lucy stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Just great? Come on, George, I know you better than that."
Before he could say anything else, Lucy closed the distance between them, her hand brushing against his chest. There was no mistaking the heat between them now, it was palpable, electric. George felt his heart race as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear.
"Why don't we have a little fun?" she whispered.
I nodded, my eyes roaming over her body. "You look incredible," I said, my voice thick with desire. "Like a cheerleader straight out of my dreams."
Lucy giggled and struck a pose, her pom poms raised high in the air. "Well, I'm all yours now," she said, winking at me. "And I have a special cheer just for you."
She began to twirl her red and white pom poms, her body moving in perfect rhythm. "Go team, go team," she chanted, her voice low and sultry. "You're the best, you're the best."
She spun around and faced me, her skirt flipping up slightly to reveal a glimpse of her white panties.
I couldn't take my eyes off her, my gaze fixed on the tantalizing glimpse of her panties. She knew exactly what she was doing to me, and she was enjoying every minute of it.
Lucy continued to dance, her movements growing more seductive as she moved closer to me. She spun around again, this time lifting her skirt even higher, giving me a perfect view of her ass.
I was completely mesmerized by Lucy's performance, my body responding to her every move. I could feel my desire for her growing with each passing moment.
She stopped dancing and knelt down in front of me, her hands on my thighs. "Do you like the show so far?" she asked, her voice low and husky.
I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. "I love it," I said, my eyes locked on hers. "You're driving me crazy."
Lucy smiled and ran her hands up my thighs, her touch sending shivers down my spine. "Good," she said. "That's exactly what I was going for."
Lucy's hands moved higher, her fingers tracing the outline of my cock through my pants. "You're already so hard for me," she purred, her eyes sparkling with desire.
I groaned, my body responding to her touch. "It's all for you," I said, my voice strained. "You have no idea how much I want you right now."
Lucy unbuttoned my pants and pulled down the zipper, freeing my erection from its confines. "I think I have an idea," she said, her eyes fixed on my cock.
She wrapped her hand around me, her touch sending waves of pleasure through my body. "You're so big," she whispered, her thumb brushing over the tip. "I can't wait to have you inside me."
Lucy began to stroke me, her hand moving up and down my length in a slow, steady rhythm. I groaned, my head falling back as I lost myself in the sensation.
"I love it when your cock twitches for me," she murmured, her eyes fixed on my face. "It's so honest about how much it wants to be inside me."
Lucy continued to stroke me, her hand moving faster and faster as she worked me into a frenzy. "I can tell you're getting close," she said, her voice filled with anticipation. "You're going to come for me, aren't you?"
I tried to hold back, to prolong the pleasure for as long as possible, but Lucy wasn't having it. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she was determined to make me come.
"Don't fight it," she said, her hand moving even faster. "Let go. I want to see you come undone."
I could feel my body tensing, the pressure building inside me as I struggled to hold back. But Lucy's words and her skilled touch were too much to resist.
"That's it," she said, her voice low and sultry. "Let go for me. Come for me, George."
With a final stroke, I came hard, my body shuddering with pleasure as I spilled myself all over her hand. Lucy watched me with a satisfied smile on her face, her eyes gleaming with desire.
"That was amazing baby," she said, as I tried to catch my breath. "You look so sexy when you come."
As I came down from my orgasm, Lucy straddled me, facing away from me. She positioned herself so that she was hovering over my cock, her back arched and her legs spread wide.
"Ready for round two?" she asked, her voice teasing.
I nodded, my body already starting to respond to the sight of her in this position. Lucy pulled aside her white panties and slowly lowered herself onto me, taking me inch by inch until I was fully sheathed inside her.
"God, you feel so good," she moaned, her hips starting to move in a slow, sensual rhythm.
I gripped her hips, my fingers digging into her skin as she rode me. The sight of her backside bouncing up and down was almost too much to handle.
"Faster," I groaned, my voice hoarse with desire. "Ride me harder, Lucy."
Lucy obliged, her movements becoming more frenzied as she rode me harder and faster. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, along with her moans and gasps of pleasure.
"Oh, God," she cried out, her body shaking with pleasure. "You feel so deep inside me. I'm not going to last much longer."
I could feel my own orgasm building again, the sight of Lucy writhing on top of me pushing me closer to the edge.
"Me neither," I gasped, my fingers digging even deeper into her skin. "I'm so close, Lucy. I'm going to come again."
Lucy let out a cry as she came, her body convulsing around me as she rode out her orgasm. The feeling of her tightening around me pushed me over the edge, and I came for the second time, my body shuddering with pleasure.
We collapsed together, both of us panting and slick with sweat. Lucy rolled off me and snuggled up against my side, a satisfied smile on her face.
We laid together in the middle of the costume shop, the air still warm from our passionate encounter. My heart was still pounding, but a sense of calm had settled over me. Lucy was curled up against me, her breath slow and steady, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my chest.
"That was... unexpected," George murmured, feeling a grin tug at the corners of his mouth.
Lucy laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. "Unexpected? I think you've wanted that for a while."
"Maybe," George admitted, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "But it was worth the wait."
Before they could say more, a strange sound echoed through the store, faint at first, like a rustling, then followed by a low whine. Both George and Lucy sat up, their eyes narrowing as they tried to pinpoint the source of the noise.
"What was that?" Lucy asked, her playful demeanor shifting to something more cautious.
George stood up, grabbing his rifle from where he had set it down. "Stay close. Let's check it out."
The two of them moved quietly through the cluttered aisles of the shop, their footsteps careful as they followed the strange noise deeper into the building. The whine grew louder, more insistent, and soon they found themselves near the back of the shop, where a pile of empty bags of dog food lay scattered across the floor.
That's when they saw it, a black Labrador puppy, its fur glossy and sleek, sitting among the torn bags of food. The little dog looked up at them with wide, innocent eyes, its tail wagging hesitantly as it licked its chops, clearly having gorged itself on the food.
George couldn't help but chuckle, lowering his rifle. "Well, that explains the noise."
Lucy knelt down, her expression softening as she reached out to the puppy. "Hey there, little guy," she cooed, scratching behind its ears. "Where did you come from?"
The puppy leaned into her touch, clearly happy to have company after who knew how long of being alone. George crouched beside Lucy, watching as the dog rolled onto its back, begging for belly rubs.
"He must have survived by eating through those bags of dog food," George mused, glancing at the torn bags around them. "Smart pup."
Lucy grinned, looking up at him. "Can we keep him?"
George raised an eyebrow, but the sight of Lucy's hopeful expression and the wagging puppy made it hard to say no. "Alright," he said, shaking his head with a smile. "But you're responsible for him."
Lucy laughed, scooping up the puppy in her arms. "Deal. We'll call him... Bear."
"Bear?" George echoed, smirking at the irony. The puppy was far from bear-like, but he supposed it was a fitting name. "Bear it is."
With Bear in tow, they made their way back to the front of the store, their scavenging mission mostly complete. The puppy had been an unexpected addition to their day, but it was a welcome one. For the first time in what felt like forever, George felt a sense of normalcy, like they were building something that resembled a real life again.
As they loaded up the truck with the supplies they had gathered, George couldn't help but glance back at Lucy, who was busy playing with Bear in the backseat. The bond between them had shifted, deepened, even, and it made him wonder what the future held for them.
But for now, he was content to focus on the present. They had survived another day, and that was enough.