Chapter 8: Are you going to kill me too?
He pulled her into the armory, shoving her ahead of him before quickly shutting the door. He eased it closed, trying not to make a sound, the wood groaning softly in protest like a deep breath being held.
The silence that followed was broken only by Skylar's ragged breathing and the distant sounds of camp life outside the thick wooden walls, men talking, maybe, or just the wind whistling through the gaps. The armory was still and cold, smelled of metal, oil, and now, freshly spilled blood.
Skylar stared at Piercer. The man was crumpled next to a crate of shotgun shells, his blood pooling darkly on the dusty floorboards. Her eyes, wide and drenched, darted from the corpse to the bloodied hunting knife Nate still held loosely in his hand.
"Are you going to kill me too?" she asked, her voice a shaky, tear-filled panic, barely a whisper.
Nate didn't look at the body. He looked at the door, listening intently. His own breathing was shallow, his heart hammering against his ribs. He hadn't spoken to a human, really spoken, in months. His reply was clipped and fast, focused only on the immediate situation.
"I need you to be quiet about this," he quickly answered, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. He pointed vaguely at the exit. "I just came to get some supplies and then get as far away from here as possible."
She couldn't keep her eyes away from Piercer, but the words finally registered through the shock. She tracked his movements as he moved back toward the open military backpack lying on the floor, overflowing with boxes of ammo and gleaming grenades.
"You want to get away from this as far as possible?" she asked, the panic starting to give way to a flicker of cunning desperation.
Nate began strapping the full pack onto his shoulders, the weight settling against his back. He glanced at the stacks of rifles and crates lining the walls.
"Looking at the weapons assembled here, I can only think of a limited few ways one can assemble such weapons," he said, his eyes scanning for anything else useful. He paused, then finished the thought, "None of them are peaceful."
The truth was sickeningly clear. This compound wasn't just a hideout; it was a small militia, built on stolen goods, intimidation, and probably, violence.
"Can you take me with you?" she suddenly asked, looking up at him, shedding her fear for a brief moment of intense focus.
Nate stopped what he was doing and stared at her. His brow furrowed in confusion. This wasn't a move he'd anticipated.
"What? Why?" he asked. He gestured around the room with his chin. "You have all the food and weapons and safety you could need," he added, the logic of his statement ringing hollow even to his own ears.
Skylar wrapped her arms around herself, trembling less from fear of the knife and more from the cold, hard future she saw laid out for her.
"With Piercer now dead, I would be like the others," she said, her voice dropping to a harsh undertone, "passed around like a toy to be fucked by the men." She swallowed hard, pushing back the tears. "I cannot go through that," she pleaded. "I can see how the other girls are being treated, how the men look at me already."
Nate picked up the long sniper rifle he had chosen, a M110 with extended range, and slung it diagonally across his chest. He looked at the woman critically. She was right; the four other women in this camp were massively outnumbered and looked haunted.
"You seem close with the leader, Kaelen," he asked, tightening the rifle strap. "Why not ask him?"
Skylar shook her head quickly. "To join this little compound, Piercer made a deal with Kaelen that only he 'Kaelen' would get to touch me besides Piercer. And that was why we were allowed to stay and join."
Nate scoffed, his lips curling in annoyance. "Wouldn't this Kaelen still want you all to himself?"
"Of course not. The men have been tense because they also want to be with me and be passed around like the other girls," she revealed. "Kaelen was talking about this with Piercer. They were arguing. Kaelen was going to break the deal soon anyway, said it was causing too much friction. Pierce was even considering it." She pointed a trembling finger at the dead man. "With Piercer dead… I can't even begin to think how they will treat me."
Nate understood the male dynamic perfectly. He hadn't been around people, but the basic drives were universal.
"They're horny men risking their lives; of course they want to fuck you," he said bluntly, adjusting the heavy backpack. The words came out without any social filter, just raw acknowledgment of fact. "Honestly, it would be no different with me. I would also expect such a thing," he told her point blank.
He watched her flinch, but she didn't back down.
"Well, I am a good archer," she pleaded, desperate to find a skill that mattered more than her body.
"I have a sniper now," he said, tapping the heavy rifle slung over his shoulder. He picked up two extra knives from a rack, a gutting blade and a combat knife, and sheathed them into his belt. "I don't need you, girl…."
He began examining the rest of the room, preparing to leave.
Skylar watched him gather weapons, realizing this was her absolute last chance. If he walked out that door, she was dead or worse.
"If I scream now, you will be surrounded in less than 20 seconds," she threatened suddenly, the fear in her eyes replaced by brittle resolve.
Nate immediately stopped moving.
"If you don't take me with you, I will scream, and you won't get out of this alive," she added, her voice still low but firm.
Nate turned to look at her, slowly pulling out the same bloodied knife he'd used on Piercer.
"What if I just kill you before you do that?" he asked, his voice low and devoid of emotion. He was tired, hungry, and had just dealt with a man twice her size. Killing her would be a simple chore.
Skylar took a sharp step back, the sight of the knife, still tacky with blood, breaking her bravado.
"Okay, wait, wait, wait! I won't scream," she stammered, holding her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "But I can still be useful to you."
"I told you, I don't need your archery skills when I have a military-grade sniper rifle," he warned, stepping closer, forcing her against the wall.
"But you will want to spare your bullets as much as possible, right?" she countered quickly, trying to talk over the fear. "Arrows can be made from anything, and trees are plenty around."
She noticed his eyes flicked down the barrel of the sniper rifle, calculating the finite resource resting there. He realized she had a point and was thinking about it.
Just a further push was all he needed.
"Archery is not the only thing I can be of use," she said, lowering her hands slightly. "You can also use my body."
His eyes widened slightly, the exhaustion and paranoia momentarily cut through by male desire.
"Isn't the reason you want to come with me not to be fucked by a bunch of men?" he asked, suspicious.
"Yes, but if I go with you, it will only be you," she replied, standing tall despite the terror. "Not a bunch of sweaty, dirt-filled men."
Nate looked at her hard, assessing the commitment.
"Are you sure about this? If you follow me, there is no going back, and we will be walking for miles and miles," he said. He needed her to understand the cost of freedom.
"I can handle it," she insisted. "So, do we have a deal?"
Nate stood there, thinking for a moment.
Yes, she was right about needing to save the bullets, even though he had boxes of them now. More so, it would be that he would have contact with another human after all this time, and even better, she was offering intimacy.
He looked up and down at her body. Yes, she was covered in dirt and ash, but she was still incredibly attractive. Not to mention her ample bosom pushed against her stained shirt. Thinking with his dick was a very illogical thing to do given the survival situation, but his desperation was strong. It was a risky thing with the limited food supplies he had, but the rewards, resource conservation and companionship—were worth the risk.
He finally nodded, the decision made.
"Alright, we have a deal. You come with me, and in exchange, I get to fuck your brains out," he said, his voice flat and transactional.
"Follow me," he said, moving toward the door, ready to slip out into the night and put miles between himself and the compound.
She grabbed his elbow, pulling him back just as he reached for the latch.
"Wait. I have a way out, but I need to get some things and my bow and arrows." She glanced toward the rifle racks. "There is a smaller river south-east of here. If you go up stream, you will notice a small cave. Wait for me there."
Nate looked down at the hand holding him, then back to her face.
"If you don't come by midday, I am leaving without you," he said, removing her hand. He took one last look at the corpse on the floor, adjusted the sniper rifle on his shoulder, and slipped out the door, melting into the shadows of the compound.