The Moreno’s are making their way, post SHTF. Their compound survives by community help and contribution. The grid is down. The government shut down – but these folks can hold their own! Sissy Moreno has been busting her butt to maintain what they have. An old flame plus a mad man cause kinks in the plan.
It may mean her life.
Chapter Chapter One
Southern NM – September, 2019
On days like this, Ricky Ramirez loved his job. He had his window rolled down to let the cool morning air in. The sky was beginning to lighten above the huge pines as he traveled over the pitted highway winding its way through the Lincoln National Forest.
He’d been on the road since a little after three in the morning, winding his way north, and searching the side of the road his favorite turn off. He took care to avoid the large pot holes that dotted the highway. He wanted the merchandise he was delivering to be asleep when he made his first pit stop.
He spied the large boulder marking his turn and checked his rearview mirror for the hundredth time during the trip, feeling slightly paranoid. If Esteban ever caught him fucking with the merchandise, he wouldn’t just lose his job, he’d get whacked.
He bit his bottom lip and slowly eased onto the dirt road, the delivery truck swaying slightly on the uneven ground as he drove another quarter of a mile. He turned left into the parking area of an old camp ground and parked so he could watch the road in case he’d been followed. He left the truck idling while he watched and impatiently waited, his left leg bouncing in agitation.
Yeah, he thought, he loved days like this on the job. He knew he was lucky to even have a job since the war had hit the states.
Being a delivery boy for Esteban was sure as hell safer than running drugs in the back alleys of Albuquerque. Military and cops every- fricken- where.
Since the war, every city and town he’d gone through was a blackened mess of burned out buildings, riots and city shelters overflowing with desperate people. Yeah, he knew he was lucky.
As long as he stuck to the dirt roads and two-lane highways though, he felt pretty safe. He knew what he was about to do was dangerous but he just couldn’t help risking it when the cargo was so irresistible. He’d chanced it before though, and always got away with it.
“Just that good, holmes,” he mumbled to himself as he reached into the door compartment and pulled out his glass pipe and baggie of blue ice.
A little dough, drugs, food, and a place to crash were damn good pay, in his eyes. Reliable transportation, out of the cold. Bonus.
He watched the road as he lit up and took a hit. He counted the seconds it took for the ice to go into his lungs and then reach his genitals. He liked to boast he could go for days on ice.
He laughed as he felt the first tingle and his crotch began to swell at the count of thirty-one. He stroked himself through his dingy jeans and shook his head, near giddy.
Still chuckling, he replaced the baggie and pipe and withdrew a black 9mm Beretta from the same compartment. He stroked himself one last time with the gun in his hand before he opened the door and hopped out.
He grinned as he passed the Millie’s Milk logo on the side of the truck and ran his hand over the peeling paint. It was a good cover. Even though the back had been empty the one time he’d been stopped, he’d about pissed himself and swore to never go over the posted speed limit again.
He reached the back of the truck, gently slid the locking bolt out of the catch and opened the right side of the double steel doors. After his co-worker, Javier, had checked the back the night before, Ricky had oiled the hinges so they didn’t make a sound.
He let out a breath of relief. The two women and three kids were asleep, spooning, with his angel on the right end, next to the infant.
He felt himself swell further as he gazed at her. His breath hitched and he began to sweat. Her long blonde hair, her pale, pale thighs showing above her scrunched up Hello Kitty nightgown, her perfectly budding breasts above that…he nearly groaned aloud.
Her buyer had been a big shot movie producer in Taos. Ricky laughingly thought the man was so fat, he couldn’t even find his own dick, much less notice if a girl was a virgin or not. Doubtful he could get it up. Ricky snickered silently.
He aimed the gun at the girl and slowly began tugging on her ankle, gently pulling her out. She jerked awake and upright with a gasp, her frightened eyes wide and staring.
Ricky put his finger to his lips to shush her and motioned for her to come out. She swallowed visibly, her baby blues filling with tears, lips trembling as she scooted out.
Once she was out, he motioned her ahead of him with the gun and quietly closed the truck door, using the bolt to hold it slightly ajar. He didn’t want to take any chances with waking the others with the muted sounds of it opening and closing multiple times.
He pushed the girl forward onto the dirt pathway leading to a dilapidated restroom. He didn’t want her heard if she started to cry or scream.
She stumbled, her bare toe catching on a rock, and cried out softly. He jerked her upright and pushed her forward. He released her arm, filled with a sense of supreme power. Mine, he thought, breathing heavily. Mine, mine, mine.
“Move!” he growled. The door was missing from the restroom entrance. He shoved her towards it, hard, making her sprawl just inside, scraping her hands and knees on the rough wooden planks.
Sobbing, she crab-walked inside, her breath coming out in hysterical bursts. When she reached the toilet, she used it to pull herself up. She turned towards him, tears streaking down her cheeks, her eyes huge in her porcelain face.
She shook like she was in an earthquake, hands clenched together against her chest. It was exactly what he wanted.
“Lay down!” Ricky ordered. She shook her head vehemently, still sobbing, snot beginning to run over her lip. He quickly raised the gun and shoved the barrel against her forehead and began unbuttoning his jeans with his left hand.
She squeezed her eyes closed, her hands covering her mouth to catch her cries as she knelt down. She leaned back and scooted down to lay on her back on the dust and pine needle littered floor, the smell of old urine surrounding her.
She made a keening cry in the back of her throat as he yanked off her panties and jerked up her nightgown. Ricky put the gun down beside him and grabbed her wrists in one hand, pulling them taut above her head. He kneed her legs apart in one swift move and positioned himself above her, roughly squeezing her young breast.
“You’re going to love this,” he whispered in her ear. The girl made a mewling noise as she arched her back to get away from him, her feet digging into the floor. Chuckling, he rubbed himself against her raised pubis.
He had to see her face, watch her eyes as he penetrated her. The terror in her face incited him. He hoped she’d struggle a little harder. Her eyes were wild and terrified, focused on something over his shoulder.
Ricky frowned down at her and swiveled his head to look back.
Urine stained walls were the last thing he saw before pain exploded throughout his skull and his world went black.