Alone at the End of the World

Bert and Jenna and their three kids shared a large family tent, and the sisters and Annette's son lived in a four-man tent. The Doc and Melvin shared a two-man tent. Jess shared with Harold in another two-man tent. Vera spent the night in Davis's RV, and made love with him. Jonah slept alone in a two-man tent with duct tape over the holes in the canvas seams.

At four in the morning, Vera shook him awake and gave him some warmish coffee in a metal thermos. She taught him the basics of how to use the hunting rifle in his hands and he climbed the fire tower to keep watch.

---

The next three days passed quietly. Every day since the illness had been full of violence, but for three days, it was peaceful. Nothing broke the eerie quiet. Jonah spent the three days learning how to handle the hunting rifle without wasting ammo (mostly dry-firing at targets) and trying his absolute hardest to get along with people.

It wasn't going to work, him pretending not to be gay. Everyone already knew, thanks to Harold so Jonah did his best to be everywhere. He volunteered for the most watches. He did laundry and dishes and looked for firewood and boiled water. He even buried ashes and dug new latrine pits.

Jonah had been taking some chemistry classes at BSU, so he instantly became a lot more popular when he figured out how to make a gooey liquid soap out of wood ashes and crisco. The Doc and Davis and Melvin were all right with him, if not necessarily comfortable. Harold and Bert were downright nasty, calling him faggot and queer whenever they could get away with it. Jess never really spoke to him, not being friendly or unfriendly. The women, even Jenna, were all his friends, and Ned was a sweet kid. Bert didn't allow his children to be around Jonah, but Stacey had a crush on him.

It couldn't last forever.

---

Jonah had the night watch when he saw headlights careening down the road. The headlights halted near the dirt trail at the entrance of the campgrounds and came squalling in. Jonah ran down the metal stairs, calling everyone awake, his voice a panicky cry.

The children and mothers were hidden in the RV, everyone else took cover behind the dead cars. Bert, Jonah, Melvin, and the Doc were all armed. Jess too, if you counted his crossbow. The rest had various clubs and weapons, that would do jack-squat against looters if they had guns. Jonah moaned low in his throat. He was terrified.

The car, a black military Jeep screeched until it was a little ways down the road and two men came out. One was dressed in pale tan army fatigues, and the other was dressed in camo pants and a tan shirt. Both had guns slung over their backs, but their hands were up and empty.

The taller one, the one in the fatigues called out. "Oi, lets put the guns down and have a friendly conversation. We ain't here to rob or loot, we're here to talk. I am Corporal David Tennyson, and this is my brother Mark. Can we put the guns down?"

The man had a calm charismatic voice, and his hands were up and empty. Jonah looked hesitantly at the others and stood up, taking his gun off and placing it on the hood of the rusty ford he had been kneeling behind. Bert and the Doc lowered their weapons. Melvin did a moment later, and Jess even later, glaring at them suspiciously.

The brothers had never stopped walking, and in a moment they reached the camp. The younger one looked around. David had a very short crew cut, Mark had his longer and floppier, almost a mullet but not quite. They both had a southern look to them, and their words came out with an almost-southern feel. Where 'can't' wanted to be 'caint' and 'now' wanted to be 'naow' but wasn't quite.

"I know it's late, and I want to apologize for that, but can we have a little group meeting around the fire? Who's in charge?"

For a moment none of them said anything, and then Vera stepped forward. "No one really, there hasn't been a lot of fighting, and everyone pulls their weight with the chores."

He nodded at her. "That seems a good place to start."

---

"We want to join your little group. It's an obvious way to go."

All of the group except Ned and the twins were around the fire. Mark was eating a roast squirrel while his brother talked.

"This is a nice little camp you have here, fresh water, capable hunters, good facilities, and isolated. The problem is, it is very visible. Me and Mark and a couple of the men can go out tomorrow and try and camouflage it up a bit. Also, the crazies have begun to leave the cities, and we've run into several in the woods. We have guns and ammo, and I've had military experience and my brother was in basic training when the shit hit the fan. How many of you have at least a year of experience using a gun?"

Melvin raised his hand, and after a moment Jess and Annette did, too.

"Good, you three can help us and we can be the main perimeter and watch for the crazies and the looters."

Mark and David were in. They were already talking like it was a done deal. The little band of survivors had no leader, and they were desperate for someone who knew what he was doing. David fit the bill.

---

The group had been talking for nearly an hour, and when David suggested that they get some sleep, no one argued. David had become the leader of the little camp in less then two hours.

"Are there more tents? We need a place to sleep in."

Jonah spoke softly. "I have an extra space in my tent."

"Shut up faggot! You gonna try to suck his dick while he sleeps?" That was Harold, jeering.

Mark and David were suddenly looking at Jonah. "You a queer?" It was the first thing Mark had said all night.

Jonah looked down at his shoes, unable to speak. Vera's mouth was pressed into a tight thin line. "Leave Jonah alone. There are only so many humans left, and it doesn't matter if they're gay or straight."

She was glaring so fiercely, bristling protectively. David laughed. "I don't give a damn that he's queer, as long as he pulls his weight and keeps to himself."

Vera glared, but not as intensely. "There is an extra room in the RV, a couch and we could bring in the army cot from the storage cabin."

David smiled. "That would work very well ma'am, thank you kindly." He was being all charm, but there was something stiff and cold under that smile. He didn't take kindly to being bossed around by Vera. Job Title Mark never stopped looking at Jonah.

---

Jonah woke up in the middle of the night with someone hot and heavy lying on top of him in his sleeping bag. A hand went over his mouth. "Don't yell or nothing boy... Shh... Thats it. That's a good little queer. I got somethin' for ya queer. You'll like it."

Jonah had a hard strong hand over his mouth, and the other hand went around his slender wrist and pressed his hand to the denim-covered bulge of a man's groin. Jonah saw a handsome southern face surrounded by a messy brown haircut. Mark.

"You're a lonely little queer aren't you? None of the men here wanna waste their time on you."

Jonah whimpered as the man shifted his weight, crushing one arm underneath him. "I ain't gonna hurt you queer, you're just gonna do me a little favor. Nod if you understand me queer."

Jonah nodded. He was too afraid to struggle, too afraid to do anything.

"Good boy... Good little queer."

Mark was moving so his muscular thighs straddled Jonah's throat inside the sleeping bag. It was so dark, but Jonah could hear the rippling growl of Mark's zipper. Mark maneuvered, and suddenly Jonah felt the thick head of Mark's cock in his mouth.

"Fuck yeah little queer. Suck it, suck that fat dick. You love my dick don't you?"

Jonah whimpered a little. He felt so humiliated. This felt so wrong, and he was even getting aroused. This man was raping him, forcing him to suck his cock. He was so afraid.

Mark was quick. In no time at all he was fucking Jonah's throat in shallow thrusts and panting, occasionally growling "fuck" under his breath.

Jonah whimpered when Mark took out his cock and stroked it violently in his hand, and a moment later Jonah flinched when he felt hot heavy ropes of come strike his face. Mark finished and tucked his cock in his pants.

Suddenly Mark was shushing him quietly and wiping his face with a ragged cloth from his pocket. "Hush up queer...Shh... I didn't hurt you, did I?" Jonah looked up at the big man straddling his chest and shook his head tentatively. His eyes were wide, and he felt so fragile. Mark knew how fragile the boy under him was.

"Well boy, I ain't gonna hurt you ever. I like you boy... I don't wanna hurt you." Mark stroked Jonah's soft beardless cheek. Jonah flinched a little from that hand, but he was so neglected that he leaned into the touch after a moment.

"That's right boy... You hard? Tell your best buddy Mark, are you hard?"

Jonah made a little noise that was half gasp and half sob. He nodded feebly, crying a little and turning his head away. It felt so wrong. He felt so ashamed. He felt Mark unzipping the sleeping bag, but he didn't open his eyes.

Jonah had been sleeping in an oversized T-shirt. He pressed his thin thighs together when Mark pulled up the hem.

"Damn, that's tiny... How old are you? Twelve?"

Jonah moaned weakly deep in his throat. The derision in Mark's voice burned like acid when he was so vulnerable. He waited, expecting Mark to stroke it himself, or maybe even suck it, but nothing happened.

"What are you waiting for queer? Jack that tiny dick off. Me? I wouldn't touch it if your dick was made of diamonds."

Jonah hiccuped a weak sob and touched himself. With his shaking hand he wrapped it around his cock and started to stroke. He didn't have lube, and with Mark's cold cruel eyes on him he couldn't reach climax.

Mark settled his weight down on Jonah's chest so it was harder for the boy to breathe. "You're such a worthless little faggot, can't even come." Jonah let out a louder sob and Mark slapped him hard across the cheek. He smothered Jonah's weak cry with his hand.

The slap had made Jonah come. The jolt of sensation, and plus, the surprise had made his hand clench down on his cock. Mark saw what had happened, and he looked down at the frightened face and glazed eyes of the boy between his legs. His hand was clamped over Jonah's mouth and Jonah was making weak snuffling noises through his fingers.

"Good queer... That's a good little queer. Naw! Naw you don't get to go start cryin' and all that shit. Shut up. I said shut the fuck up you fucking queer!"

Jonah looked up at that mean face and bared teeth with wide terrified eyes. His mouth was shut tight, but his lips were trembling with all of the sobs that wanted to burst out. Mark stroked the side of his face and it felt so good. Jonah felt like screaming with how good and terrible he felt. He felt weak and sick.

"I'm gonna go back to the RV boy. Are you gonna tell anyone about our little secret boy?" Mark's voice was soft and gentle again, but Jonah made the mistake of not answering right away.

"I asked you a question queerboy! I want you to answer it!"

"N-N-N-No!" Jonah's answer was a tiny frightened squeak of a noise. He shook his head frantically. If anyone knew, he would die of shame.

Mark put his hand over Jonah's jaw. "I wanna hear you say it queerboy. Tell your your best buddy Mark, 'I wont tell anyone our secret.' Come on, I wanna hear you say it."

"Ah... I w-wont t-t-tell any-wuh-one our secret." Jonah was stammering and crying. He was so tired. Somehow everything else, the fear, the rape, the domination, it seemed less important then just the fact that Jonah was exhausted.

"You stuttered queer, that's a terrible habit. Say it again."

Mark made him say it until he didn't stutter, nearly ten more times. Satisfied that it had been drilled into Jonah's skull, Mark left.

Jonah started to cry as soon as the burly young man left the tent. He felt so ashamed. He buried his face in the sleeping bag and howled with frustration. The only gay man he knew was a violent closeted maniac. Nausea came in a rush and he barely made it outside in time to gush hot vomit on the ground.

When he was on his hands and knees, weeping and wiping his mouth, he looked up and saw his first crazy since Jess had rescued him from the tree.

The man was wearing army fatigues. His eyes were swollen and bruised and his face was badly sunburned. Blood smeared his broken fingers and swollen lips. He let out a murderous grunt and scrambled after the boy on the ground.

"Help me!! Help me!! Help me!!" Jonah let out three breathless shrieks as he scrambled to his feet and ran to the fire tower. Tents rustled and suddenly the fatigue-wearing crazy collapsed, a crossbow bolt in his eye.

Jonah fell and curled into a tiny fetal ball. He let out his breath in soft hurt moans. He couldn't breathe, he was holding his throat and taking in tiny wheezing sips of air.

"Shit! Breathe Jonah! Breathe!"

Someone was holding him, shaking him, cradling his head to try and open his airways. Then the man took off his shirt and wrapped it around Jonah's head. Inside the shirt it smelled like sweat and sunshine and soap. The air was warm and close and the darkness soothed Jonah, settled him. He continued to take fast shallow breaths inside the shirt, and he flinched when he heard the gunshot.

"Is he bit?"

A high frightened woman's voice. Janet's voice. It was just too much for Jonah, so things went grey.

---

Jonah never completely blacked out. He remembered pieces, startled thoughts, bits of speech, fragmented images. Janet asking if he was bitten, over and over. The Doc taking off his shirt that he slept in to see if he was, and then Jonah cringing and trying to cover himself because in his confusion he thought that Mark was back. David screaming and shooting a crazy. Melvin and Davis keeping a terrified watch.

Jess was the one who had saved him. Jess had been sleeping lightly and had heard Jonah's retching. He had gone out to see, and shot the crazy with his crossbow.

Jonah still had the shirt over his face, using it like someone would use a paper bag, to slow his breathing. Jess smelled masculine and gamy. A wild smell, an intoxicating smell. Jonah knew that the last thing he needed was a letch for the group hunter/redneck, but he wasn't thinking clearly, and just the smell of his shirt was enough to start a throb of infatuation in his skinny chest.

Mark though... Jonah looked blearily into the group of shooters. It was all of the men except him, Harold, and the Doc, and with the addition of Annette. Mark was standing next to his brother, not saying a word. Mark caught his eye and with a smirk, he put his finger to his lips. Jonah flinched and ducked his gaze down.

"You alright sweetie?" That was Jenna. As if tending to her own three children wasn't enough, she had taken on nursing him. Right now, he was incredibly grateful. All of them were huddled under the no-sides tent except for Melvin and Davis in the tower. Davis screamed something about movement in the trees and the shooters ran off.

The non-shooters grabbed their weapons. Even little six-year-old Ned picked up a hatchet with a look of total terror on his face.

Jonah pulled his long sleeping-shirt down to cover his knees and got up, handling a shovel. He heard the screams of a group of crazies. They ran into the camp, barely visible in the light of dawn.

Shots rang out, a quick firecracker volley of them and puffs of dust rose from the ground. Four or Five of the crazies hit the ground, leaving at least as many running. Another quick volley and another three hit the ground. The last two were very close. Annette shot one, David shot the other. Vera smashed her shovel on the head of a snarling twitching bleeding woman. Her blonde hair was dyed the color of strawberries from blood.

"They won't bother the supplies! Grab some food and water and head up into the tower!" David's voice was a loud hoarse snarl. Everyone did as he said. Jonah grabbed a blanket from the ground and a canteen from a chair and ran up the narrow steps, feeling the metal steps cut his bare feet.

David and Mark and Jess were the last to go in, they made a rough barricade out of a picnic table that had been part of the campground. There was a lull, no visible dead in the dim light of the rising sun. Mark and Jess kept watch by the picnic table while David ran up to where the rest of the group was huddled.

He looked grim and fierce and sleepless in the dim light. "What supplies did we grab?"

The supplies made a pitiful little pile. Three blankets, the half-full canteen, two bottles of water, a string bag with three cans of food in it, some weapons, and a sleeping bag.

We'll stay here till morning, and then we are packing everything into the RV. We will siphon gas from the rest of the cars. We have to move. This was a nice spot but the crazies are hungry, and we have to get further away."

They were dismayed, but no one disagreed, they were too afraid. Afraid of the crazies and afraid of David and Mark.

---

Vera shook Jonah awake. He had been huddled in the sleeping bag, so exhausted that he had slept through a night of gunshots.

Mark was standing, a blanket around his thick shoulders. He winked at Jonah and the boy flinched. Of course Mark wouldn't be satisfied with one time, he would want it again and again, every night maybe. Jonah wouldn't be able to tell anyone, they were in charge. Even if he could tell, he wouldn't. Jonah felt thick choking shame in the back of his throat. No one needed to know about this.

"It's bright out." David looked grim and angry, no one wanted to argue with him, especially not with the way his knuckles were white from gripping his pistol. "There haven't been as many crazies as the night went on, and we haven't seen any for an hour, at least. Bert, Doc, Harold, and Davis, you can drag those bodies over to the ditch. Me, Mark and Jess will stay as a ground guard. Melvin, stay up in the tower and keep your eyes peeled. Stacey can keep an eye on the littler ones in the RV. The rest of you pack up all the supplies that we absolutely need."

They got to work. Following David was easy, even when they were abandoning their home. At least he was a natural and charismatic leader. Jonah stepped gingerly over two dead crazies and started packing his things, his face pale and white and dazed. He threw some underwear and jeans and shoes on, but didn't change out of his sleeping shirt.

It didn't take long for Jonah to pack his few belongings and roll up his sleeping bag and bedroll. He started helping the others, who had more things and were more spread out. Everyone looked up in terrified shock when a pair of crazies wandered out of the trees. Mark and Jess killed them, but everyone was even more frightened now, because the gunshot would bring more of them.

Jonah ran supplies to the RV, putting sleeping bags and bedrolls and tents into the storage space and personal belongings in the sleeper area. The RV had three rooms. A tiny bedroom, a larger living room with an army cot set up in it and the kitchenette. The kids were hiding in the bedroom, lying packed together in the bed. Ned was crying and Stacey was trying to shush him.

The camp looked picked bare. Every possible thing was crammed into the RV, and then the people got in. The kids and Annette and Jenna squeezed into the bedroom, some sitting on the floor. Davis, Jess, Bert, Harold, and Mark and the Doc sat in the living room, crammed side by side on the couch and army cot. Melvin and David were in the drivers compartment. Vera and Jonah and Janet were in the kitchenette. There were no places to sit other then the floor, but the women wanted some room, and Jonah couldn't bear to be in the same room as Mark. He could still see Mark, there was no real separator besides a curtain that was pulled to the side anyway.