Vile Wasteland (A Post Apocalyptic Novel) Read online

  VILE WASTELAND

  J.E. AND M. KEEP

  This book is intended for sale to Adult Audiences only. It contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language. All sexually active characters in this work are of legal age. Over 50,000 words.

  If you require content warnings: this particular story contains blow jobs, hand jobs, M/F sex, Virginity loss, and some taboo (dubious consent) sex scenes that are not intended to be erotic.

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  To our friends who didn’t judge, readers of The Keep back when we were first starting out, and Darknest Fantasy Erotica who encouraged us to keep going.

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  Wandering the post-apocalyptic wastes of old humanity, the young virgin Alex encounters peril, danger and men willing to help or exploit her. How can she tell them apart?

  A young woman sets off onto a journey to save her people. Full of confidence and excitement, she quickly finds out the wasteland of the world above her bunker is harsher than she expected. Her people are relying on her, however, and she's their only remaining hope.

  Vile Wasteland is the story of Alexandra, a brave young woman who confronts the horrors of an uncivilized wasteland with only her own wits, and the hope that she doesn't trust the wrong man to aid her in her journey.

  Warning, this 50k word novel contains blow jobs, reluctance, cunninglingus, quick relationships and some themes of cheating, as well as taboo sex not intended to arouse. It's not a traditional romance!

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHORS

  RECOMMENDED FOR YOU

  MORE BY J.E. & M. KEEP

  BIOGRAPHY

  Chapter 1

  It was too late to turn back, not that she wanted to. The ‘wastes’ of the valley spread out before her as she crested the ridge. It was a strange assortment of grey, green and reddish brown all nestled into a large u-shaped valley with a blue snake of a river that wound its way through. Alexandra couldn’t see it all from her position, but what she could see was far more than her world had encompassed for the past decade.

  The heavy pack upon her back was a burden of more than just its weight. The technical equipment inside it represented the best bargaining tool her people in the bunker had for food and supplies.

  A last desperate act to get what they needed to survive.

  It wasn’t even a full twenty four hours since she set out, according to the device imbedded into her forearm. It lit up her skin to tell her the time of day, tracking her body signs and serving as a control for disease, illness and pregnancy.

  Even after the day of excitement and travel, she could see the look upon Marim’s face in her mind before she set out.

  Before Dawn Earlier That Day

  As handsome as ever, even with his smooth, fair complexion creased with worry, Marim turned from the door to the medical office after shutting it. "I wish it didn’t have to be like this," he said, the concern for her plain on his face.

  The two of them were the same height, which fit, for they’d been friends for as long as either could remember, nearly inseparable. But whereas she had little use for lessons and learning, he’d committed himself rather fully to becoming a nurse and hopefully someday a doctor.

  He made up for any other shortcomings he had with enthusiasm and dedication, as he did in all things. Just as his unimpressive stature as a man was made up for by gorgeous good looks, and his thick, long mane of hair. Though he tied the golden mess back in a ponytail, he tended to leave some flowing about his shoulders. While those emerald eyes of his, so wide and pretty, seemed to almost glitter with suppressed tears at her having to leave.

  "If only one of the last two search parties would’ve reported back in by now," he stammered, rubbing an arm. The nurses outfit he wore consisted of a high collared, short sleeved white tunic, and plain black pants that fit him rather snugly down to his boots. All in all he made what was otherwise a dull ensemble look good.

  "You hafta take that equipment to the old colony site," he explained again for the fifth time. "With any luck you can trade for some supplies to bring back and seeds to start up the old greenhouse, and... and maybe we’ll become self-sufficient again." It was a long shot, they both knew it, but with most of the occupants of the bunker sick or dead due to the contaminated food they thought would see them through another couple years, and every search party they sent out for supplies failing to return or bring back anything, it fell to her. Even Marim couldn’t accompany her, because he was the only standing medical officer, despite being but nineteen.

  Her own blonde hair was pulled back from her face, yet she’d resisted the tears that glistened in his eyes, and stood straight, her lips curved into a forced smile. "Look, you just need to get over this. I’ll be back, I’ll be fine. You know this, I know this, and when I return with my arms full of food and presents and whatever else they’re going to throw my way, I’m going to make you pay for making me worry about leaving YOU here all by yourself."

  Her jeans and t-shirt would have been so simple and plain on someone else, but she filled them out just right, her curvy body tightening and stretching the material so snugly across her chest and ass. "Just make sure no one else dies ‘til I get back," she teased, though there was a pleading there. She didn’t blame him for the deaths, of course, but with each one, things grew worse for the ones still living.

  Marim’s handsome face somehow managed a smile, as he always did for her, but he was definitely worried for her, and she could see beneath the veneer to that. "Be real careful," he warned, "and before you try tradin’ the good stuff, hide it somewhere. You don’t know if the colonists still up there are like us still. They might’ve been on hard times, and turned to desperate measures."

  Stepping to her without delay, he put his arms about her, pulling her into an embrace. "Just get back, no matter what happens. We’ll figure somethin’ out," he said, though it was weak. Without some deal or scavenged goods to bring back, nobody would make it.

  She kissed his cheek before brushing past him. She’d never been big on sappy goodbyes, or long drawn out and emotional scenes, so it was comforting in a way to feel her shoulders square under the heavy load of goods as she set out.

  A secret smile came to her lips as real excitement shone through.

  Before Dusk Later That Day

  Alexandra had made a good pace that day despite the burden on her back. Her enthusiasm for the first bit of freedom from the underground prison that was the bunker fuelled her motions. However, as the sun crept towards the horizon and the shadows grew long over the valley, she knew her time was nearly up. She’d have to hide out somewhere that evening to rest.

  On the bright side she saw two things: in the distance along the opposing edge of the valley were the large, circular white structures of what must be the old colony. It lay past the river and the grey and black ruins of the old pre-cataclysm city that her mother might have known the name of, but it was within sight, and that counted for a lot. It was a couple days journey away, by her rough reckoning.

  Secondly, she could make out some building at the edge of the next ridge before coming into the valley proper itself. A long structure, it
was at the end of a broken grey road, and she could make out no signs of life around it, and wouldn’t even take her half an hour. She’d have noticed it sooner, but from her point higher up it was masked before now.

  Alexandra had energy to spare, especially on such a big day, and as she set her sights on her evening destination, her red lips parted into a wide grin. She didn’t let the fear of the unfamiliar edge into her consciousness, or the fact that so many disappeared into the unknowns. Instead she simply set out to rest for the night, her legs working to carry her over the last stretch.

  She was so full of excitement for the journey ahead, and the entire world she’d never been able to explore that she never noticed the sounds ahead.

  Approaching the long, rectangular building’s side door, she was taken by surprise when it abruptly burst open. The metal frame struck her and sent her toppling away onto her side. She had little time to make sense of what happened next, stunned as she was, but three bodies came rushing out.

  It was as those six hands grabbed at her that it started to come into view amidst the rough jostling. They were men, but they weren’t like any men she’d known in all her days in the safety of the bunker.

  Their faces were deathly pale, their features contorted into looks of pure rage. They wore little but shredded and damaged vestments of the past that covered their chests and loins, terrifying body paint about the rest. They screamed at her in violent rage as her senses snapped back.

  Chapter 2

  Her brown eyes went saucer wide as she tried to struggle away from them, shocked from the pleasant reverie she had been experiencing not seconds before. The suddenness of it all left her little time to think or understand, but she stated, quite loudly and firmly, "I’m sorry! I didn’t know this place was taken!"

  She heard no words from them, though they were far from silent. Their screams were manic, laced with pure hatred and venom. They did not seem like any normal people, and as she struggled to communicate with them they took her backpack from her and pinned her to the ground. In the shadow of the building, and the frenzy of the moment, it became hard to see what two of them were doing, the one atop her having her attention.

  She had strapped a knife to her hip, but that was of little use to her in such a pinned state. She had seen nothing prior to coming down here, and she cursed herself, quite loudly, at having been less prepared. Still, as she stared at the man atop her, she was far from submissive. Her knees and elbows sought out the tender flesh of his body, probing for a weak point she could reach.

  Time spent sparring in the bunker with Marim and her friends had left Alexandra strong and fit. With a swift kick of her knee she struck the savage man between his legs with such force she heard the very unpleasant sound of flesh crushing and caving in. With a hit of her hand to his head, he went sprawling off of her into the dirt suddenly silent.

  There was no time for celebration though, for one of the others let loose a shrill cry and came at her, unbothered by his companion’s fate as he bared his teeth and hard, jagged nails.

  Her hand immediately went for the long, sharp hunting knife in the sheath on her hip. Her eyes were narrow as she stepped backwards. "Give me my shit back!" she demanded. She almost looked as crazy as he did, the way her body was half covered in dirt and her ponytail was matted with soil.

  Screaming as he charged at her, the crazed savage made no intelligible response. For all his crazed vigour, however, she was a step ahead. Smoothly her athletic frame carried her out of his way, and he went crashing into the dirt next to his friend. Unlike him, however, he was back up again in no time and let loose with another blood curdling cry, only seeming more incensed by her frustrating him.

  She was of average height, but she was spry and adrenaline pumped through her. Though she had walked all day with the pack on her back and was previously weary, the lack of the weight and the excitement of danger charged through her. As she tried to keep her distance, she kept slashing at the air with practiced swipes designed to keep an enemy away.

  The grace and confidence with which she moved in the face of such freakish horror would’ve been enough to cow most attackers. The slashing hunting knife kept him at bay, though didn’t hit.

  Uncut thus far, the savage man took advantage of her missed slash and charged in again. This time he had her, and the impact of his blow knocked her back into the ground. The pale lunatic let loose some cry of mixed rage and victory.

  It was in that moment, however, that–almost simultaneously–a shot rang out, echoing across the hills, and the man’s head exploded on one side into a mist of red. It was the goriest sight of her life, but it was accompanied by the visage of that madman toppling over to his left away from her, lifeless.

  In the opposite direction she immediately traced its source. She could see, silhouetted against the setting sun, the outline of a tall man. Standing still with a rifle at his shoulder, he wore a long trench coat with a wide brim hat on. Only her keen sight and fast reflexes allowed her to see much of anything of him, for the glare of red, setting sunlight hid him almost entirely.

  "Oh, ew," she moaned as she shuffled away from the dead man, her grip tightening on her blade as she looked towards her saviour. "There’s another one! If you wanted to keep being helpful, I mean!" she practically begged as she looked towards the area she had last seen the thief. She tried to avoid the messy pile bleeding on the ground, but a morbid fascination kept bringing her gaze back to it.

  There was no sign of the third man, nor her backpack and gun, and the way her saviour shouldered his rifle and began to saunter in her direction showed he was in no rush to go chasing after anything.

  It took longer than it should’ve to make out the man’s features due to the glare of the sun behind him. Instead, the first personal bit of him she experienced was his voice, rich and smooth, "I didn’t see a third," he stated, then called out over his other shoulder, "did you see a third Bren?"

  From off to the side she saw a large man, about as tall as this first one, but much, much broader. His voice was deep and baritone, "Nah boss," and he too carried a gun in his hands. She could see his dark hair and pale features as his direction kept the sun on him, instead of behind him. With a short, trimmed black beard, he was a large bear of a man in a beaten old leather padded vast and worn pants.

  After the adrenaline rush she just experienced, she was practically hopping from leg to leg, "What, you think I’m lying? Fuck, I’ll go get my shit back, then. Thanks for that one," she offered, her eyes opening wide, as if daring them to let her go alone. She was so cocky she even started moving towards the door, her sneakers leaving dirty imprints behind as her t-shirt rolled up over her holster, exposing a sensitive sliver of the low of her back.

  The two men didn’t move after her immediately. Instead they paused and looked at one another in some silent communication.

  By herself, she headed on in cautiously. Luckily for her, the rectangular building’s windows were all facing the sunset, and its light poured in illuminating the ancient building; rows upon rows of old worn, slashed and punctured seats, by battered or toppled tables. She saw no movement, nor any real sign of habitation.

  She didn’t hear the man’s approach until he spoke, that smooth, masculine voice without a face, "I don’t know what you think you’re lookin’ for," he said, "but those fuckers don’t run and hide, miss." Having caught her off guard she looked back and finally saw him.

  His hat was off now, and long, pale-blonde–almost white–, straight hair spilled down around his ears before going down his back. His face, however, was a contrasting darkness, smooth and unblemished but for a single scar at the left side of his jaw. He peered down at her intensely with dark brown eyes.

  Her face was contorted in anger as she spun to look up at him, "Well he fuckin’ took my bag and my gun, so either it was a ghost or they do run and hide," she barked. Her eyes were slightly watery and she brushed her fingers against her lashes as she started moving in deeper through the
building. "A bag of shit doesn’t just get up and walk off my back."

  The larger man, Bren, backed into the old diner, gun at the ready, obviously watching their rears. The tall slender man, however, followed along quietly, his gun ready but otherwise not seeming too alarmed despite the circumstances.

  There were a couple doors leading from the long, main room, but one was barred by trash that hadn’t looked disturbed in quite some time. Heading through the other door, however, she kept on the lookout, gun at the ready. Alexandra and the slender man made no noise as they advanced, him treading silently behind.

  When the attack came, it took her by surprise once more. A scrawny, pale woman lunged out with a piercing scream, though before she could hit either one of them, the tall man struck out, the hard butt of his gun striking into her face with a loud crunch of cartilage, sending the attacker back into the closet she’d pounced out of into a heap.

  "Ulg!" Alexandra stumbled just from the shock, before she straightened herself. "Fuck, that’s not him," her eyes moved around what she could see of the thief or her bag, before finally resting her sight upon the man towering over her, "You been ‘round here long? Where would they go if they all of a sudden decided they wanted to hide?"

  Having encountered more trouble, the tall, handsome man slipped past her, and she could see he moved–even in his bulky trench coat and large boots–with a rather generous helping of grace and aptitude. Moving ahead of her he went by the door at the end of the hallway. It was barred over–nailed shut in fact, though the work looking done many years prior–then took the only accessible door, pushing it open and peering in cautiously.

  "Nothin’," he said at last, and then stepped on in. The room was mostly filled with metal fixtures, obviously a kitchen, though there seemed nowhere a man–let alone a man with a large pack–might hide inside.