(Note: This post includes an image of a scantily clad woman. It's not pornography so relax. The post does not include erotica. Oh, and if you open the link to the picture, keep in mind that it is out of context; there are no pickup trucks in our story.)

[b]22 November 2021
Day 8:[/b]

As the sun rose and began pushing the darkness out of the forest, [color=red]Harry Timms[/color] was sitting atop a large rock overlooking the stream, just upstream from the pond. He'd just come off the third watch ... after having stood the second and first watches before that as well. His eyes were heavy as he listened to the gentle splashing of the babbling brook, and if he hadn't had a reason for being here on a day when no one from [i]his[/i] camp [i]should[/i] have been, he could have very easily laid back in the grass at the huge rock's base and gone to sleep.

But his reason for being here at this time on this day soon presented herself, and present herself she did. [color=red]Victoria Parcell[/color] arrived at the stream's edge some fifty feet or so upstream from Harry, seemingly unaware of his presence. She was dressed against the chill of the early November morning in a stocking cap, long heavy coat, and winter boots. Harry was no fashionista, but even he could see that the outfit was a [i]makeshift[/i] one; Victoria, like many of the survivors, were making do with whatever cold weather clothing they or those who hadn't survived had packed for the flight from L.A. to Seattle.

Harry was about to speak up when he realized that Victoria was beginning to undress: she used her toes against the backs of her boots to shed them first, grimacing noticeably at the cold against her now bare feet; she peeled off the stocking cap and shook her head, letting her long, straight, fine, and naturally blonde hair flow down her back; and finally, she untied and unbuttoned the long, thick coat and pulled it from her shoulders, tossing it over another big boulder.

She turned Harry's direction and only now caught sight of him, freezing in place as he stared at her wide eyed. A long, silent moment passed before them as she wondered what the hell Harry was doing here and Harry simply ogled the incredible beauty that was [url=https://i.imgur.com/ekz4MPv.jpg?1]Victoria Parcell[/url].

"It's not your day," she said, finally breaking the silence; her tone wasn't accusatory but was almost friendly.

"It's forty degrees," Harry said, ignoring her statement and pointing out the incongruity of her being out here as she was.

"I thought I would take a bath," she said, slowly making her way down toward the edge of the stream, no longer looking Harry's way.

He repeated with emphasis, "It's [i]forty[/i] degrees. I don't have a working thermometer, but ... I know forty degrees when I feel it."

Victoria seemed to be ignoring Harry, but he certainly wasn't ignoring her. He'd already been well aware that she was a beautiful woman, but to see her like this was ... well ... it was having effects on his mind and body.

Victoria was about to vanish from Harry's sight as she descended down behind the rocky stream bank. When only her head was still within sight of him, she looked to him, gave him a flirty smirk, and asked, "Are you just going to sit there ... or are you going to join me?"

She disappeared from his view. Harry chuckled to himself, then called out to her, "[i]It's forty degrees![/i]"

From out of sight, he heard the beauty call out, "Chicken."

Harry stared her direction for a moment, seeing nothing change in the situation. Then, after looking up and down the stream's shore for signs of some of her people, Harry stood and headed Victoria's direction. He again looked about the woods for signs of his counterpart's people, concerned that maybe she had something up her sleeve.

Arriving near where Victoria had disappeared, Harry stopped suddenly at the sight of the plaid shirt she'd been wearing, now laying over the top of a shrub. He hesitated, moved forward, and stopped again as he found more of Victoria's clothing laying on the sandy shore. Upon further review and recalling how little she'd had on when he last saw here, Harry was certain the blonde was now very much naked.

There was a splashing sound from the far side of a massive bank boulder, followed by Victoria calling again, "Are you coming in, Harry? Or are you the shy type?"

He hesitated, unsure of just what the hell was happening here. His comments to her about how cold it was were [i]not[/i] exaggeration; it was most certainly in the low forties Fahrenheit, and the water was surely even colder than that. But after the woman egged him on again, Harry descended from the higher bank to the sandy shore and neared the water enough to find Victoria in the water up to her neck, laying back in some mossy stones such that her bountiful breasts nearly broke the surface for his viewing pleasure.

"Hot spring," she said, smiling and laughing at the shock in Harry's face. "One of the women found it two days ago when she was down here collecting water for the fire. It bubbles up from somewhere below me and mixes with the stream water. It's not quite bathtub temperature, but it's close to the temp' of my pool in L.A."

She raised a hand and curled some fingers to him invitingly: "Take your clothes off and join me, Harry." Her lips spread in a devilish smirk. "I promise I won't tell your people that you're cavorting with the enemy."

"I don't consider you the enemy, Victoria," Harry said without hesitation. He did hesitate, however, before adding, "But I am a little concerned about the whole [i]cavorting[/i] idea."

"Meaning...?" she asked.

Harry was having a hard time keeping his eyes on the beauty's face and away from the surface water below which her incredible body was so barely hidden from view. He thought about what he wanted to say -- he'd been contemplating this conversation for days -- then instead looked up the bank in the direction from which they'd come. Looking back to Victoria, he asked, "Are we expecting company, or ... are you really here--"

"I'm alone," she cut in, answering his question with a firm tone. "Javier has instructions to keep my people away from here, to give me some alone time." Her devilish smirk returned as she pointed out the obvious: "I wasn't expecting to have company, obviously."

Again, Harry's eyes dropped to the water and the almost distinguishable sight of Victoria's womanly shape beneath the ripples. He looked up to her twinkling, hazel-green eyes again, saying, "Your people ... my people. How did this come to pass?"

"You wanted to be king, I wanted to be queen," Victoria answered quickly, as if she, too, had been contemplating this conversation often. "You are well liked, Harry. Your people like you. [i]My[/i] people like you. Hell, [i]I[/i] like you."

He began hesitantly, "Then ... why--"

"I don't take direction well, Harry," she cut in again. "I don't like being told what to do. Never have. Do you know what I used to do, Harry, back in my teens and early twenties?"

"Early twenties...?" he inquired, chuckling. "When was that, yesterday?"

"I turn 26 in four days, Harry," she said, that smirk returning. "Yeah, I know, most people take me for being younger. I get carded [i]constantly[/i]. I used to take it as a compliment, but more often than not, I suspect guys -- I never get carded by women -- I suspect guys are just wanting my name and address. You'd be surprised how many bartenders and bodega clerks just [i]happen[/i] to be wandering down my street a couple of days after they'd carded me at their bar or club or store. [i]Creepy.[/i]"

Victoria went silent for a moment, simply studying Harry, before he reminded her, "You were telling me what you used to do."

She smiled and giggled. "Yeah. I used to be a model. Preteen clothing, then older stuff. Got into lingerie and bikinis and prom dresses and LBDs and God knows what else. It's all kind of a blur now."

Harry smiled when he suddenly realized why Victoria had been so familiar to him days earlier: "You were in that video, um ... who were they, that Indie Rock band out of San Francisco--"

"Gloo," she filled in, smiling. "Yeah, I was in three of their videos ... shaking my ass and tits in clothes that almost weren't there."

Harry suddenly realized that -- just as had happened when he'd first seen Victoria undressing -- he was getting excited down below his beltline. He wasn't really that eager to have Victoria notice his growing erection so he sat atop an old rotting log to free up the groin of his jeans. 

She talked very briefly about that portion of her career, then about the years before that before saying, "Since I was 9 years old, all I've ever done was be told what to do: [i]stand here like this, turn there like that, smile, don't smile, give us a profile, show us your ass[/i]. I'm sick and tired of it ... and Harry, you were going to do the same here."

He took offense to that accusation, quickly reminding Victoria that he hadn't been giving out orders but had been making suggestions of what needed to be done if they were all going to survive. She responded, "So you say."

Harry was about to clarify further but before he could, Victoria disappeared below the surface of the water. She reemerged a few seconds later, smoothing her hair back against her scalp and wiping the water from her eyes. Harry couldn't believe how naturally perfect the young woman was, without the need for a full layer of whatever it was that women put on their faces to cover what they considered [i]imperfections.[/i]

"If you're not going to join me," she said after a moment, "how about you give me some privacy so I can wash up and get back to [i]my[/i] people."

Harry wasn't sure what else he could say, let alone whether or not this was the right time and place to say it. He looked a bit lower down Victoria again; she had shifted her position in the water now, causing the upper curvatures of her still firm, still incredible breasts to nearly emerge from the water; he was certain he could see the darker flesh of her nipples, which caused a little voice in the back of his mind to scream out desperately [i]Take your fucking clothes off and get the fuck in there, you asshole!![/i]

Instead, Harry only gave Victoria a polite smile and reminded her, "It's your day here. I'll get out of your--"

Suddenly, the natural quiet of the early morning was shattered by the very unnatural sound of not very distant gunfire. Harry's first instinct was to crouch down, in case the bullets were coming his direction; his next action was to pull out the Beretta in the small of his back and move up the shore a bit for a better look. The gunfire was continuing, now up to ten or twelve rapidly expelled rounds.

Not really thinking about what he might see, Harry looked Victoria's direction ... just in time to see the fully nude woman hurrying out of the water toward him. His eyes widened at the sight of womanly perfection and she herself was asking in panic, "[i]What is it? What's happening?[/i]"

Harry forced himself to pull his eyes from Victoria's amazing body. A second round of firing had started, and it sounded as if it was coming from a slightly different position. "[i]I don't know. I need to get up there. Get dressed.[/i]"

Harry searched the forest before him as he rose from the shore higher up the bank. He glanced back again, finding Victoria back into her faux-jean shorts bikini bottom and pulling the accompanying top over her delicious mounds. She caught him looking her way and gave him a [i]what the fuck[/i] expression. He murmured before looking back to the forest, "Sorry."

The shooting had stopped by now, with Harry believing that two full clips of 14 rounds likely had been discharged. He could hear voices now, excited sounds; some of them seemed happy while others most certainly were not. Victoria hurried up the bank past Harry to her coat and boots, which she quickly donned.

"What's happening?" she asked as she dressed. "Is it over, whatever it was?"

"Seems so," Harry said, now walking in the direction of the fire. He paused to look back, and once Victoria was again fully dressed, he said, "C'mon, let's go see what happened."

"You want to be seen with me?" she asked, a mix of humor and accusation.

Harry smiled and reminded her, "[i]You're[/i] the one who wanted her own little realm. ... Queen Victoria."

She hurried not just to Harry but around him, leading him up the trail instead of the other way around. When they emerged from the forest into the grassy plain that included both camps and the wreckage between them, they found most of Victoria's people gathered about 50 yards away.  She continued their direction in a hurry, and when someone finally caught sight of her, she called out, "[i]What's going on? What happened?[/i]"

As she and Harry neared the group, it parted like the Red Sea to reveal a now very dead, very bloody corpse of a Saber-toothed cat. [color=red]Javier Flores[/color] -- showing off -- lifted his own Beretta, ejected the clip dramatically, and popped another one into it with the loud metallic sound of the slide slamming forward to inject a new round. He bragged, "I killed it."

"[i]We[/i] killed it!" another of Victoria's people added quickly. 

Javier laughed at the man, correcting, "You unloaded a clip at it without even making it flinch. [i]I'm[/i] the one who--"

"[i]Shut the fuck up, Javier[/i]," Victoria snapped at the man; the crowd had moved back a bit and she was taking a slow walk around the big cat. She looked to Harry, who seemed just as amazed at the sight as was anyone else. "It's not a cougar, and it's not a [i]lion[/i]-lion, not that we should expected one of those here in Oregon ... I mean, unless one got out of a zoo or animal park."

Someone reminded them that there was a place in Southern Oregon called [i]Wild Safari[/i], but one and then another and then many people were commenting on what most of the group had by now accepted: they weren't in the year 2021 A.D. anymore. 

Harry began examining the feline more closely, noting how many places blood was emerging from the corpse; Javier -- and possibly the other man -- had hit the Saber-toothed cat at many as twelve or more times. 

"Where did it come from and where were you when you started shooting?" he asked the second man.

Javier cut into the inquiry with, "What the fuck is he doing here?"

Victoria caught Javier's eye and again, this time softer but with emphasis, told the man, "Shut the fuck up, Javier." She looked to the other man, instructing, "Answer his question: where'd it come from and where were you."

"I was over there, taking a piss," the man said pointing, then blushing when he realized he'd given a bit more information than necessary. He pointed three more times, saying, "It came from there, heading that way, right at Maria. Javier was over there."

The cat had essentially fell straight forward onto its belly, not rolling to either side. Harry looked at the wounds on the animal's hide, poking his finger into some of the entry points to ensure that they were in fact just that: bullet holes. He finally looked up to man who'd been braggin, smiling with a strange, devilish delight. "There are 11 entry points on the cat's right side and only three on the left side, Javier ... [i]your[/i] side. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I doubt very much that you--"

The trigger-happy man wasn't having it, though, cutting in, "The fucking thing dropped after [i]I[/i] shot it."

Harry wasn't looking to start a fight, particularly with a man who'd already pointed a pistol at his face. Instead, he looked to his counterpart -- who was on her knees studying the cat's face -- and said, "Congratualtions, you have enough meat now to feed your people for quite a while. [i]And[/i] you've got yourself a really nice fur coat ... or blanket or whatever you want to do with the animal's pelt."

He turned away, intending to head back to his own camp, but Victoria stopped him by admitting, "We don't have anyone who knows how to ... whaddaya call it, [i]tan[/i] a hide?"

Harry stopped and turned back, after which Victoria continued her reluctant admission, "We, um ... we've been throwing the hides of the rabbits and other furries away because ... well, I told you ... we don't know what to do with them."

Harry casted his eyes about the group, thinking [i]no one knows how to cure a hide?[/i] All he saw were eyes diverting away from him or simply staring back at him as if to say [i]and I'm sure you're an expert at it, right?[/i]

"I'm sure [color=red]Cliff Sampson[/color] would be more than happy to teach a couple of your people how to do it," Harry said.

"I'll provide the people," Victoria said. Then, seeing the thoughtful expression on Harry's face, she asked accusingly, "In exchange for ... what?"

"Another Beretta and a box of ammo," he said.

"[i]Bullshit![/i]" Javier immediately snapped off.

But Victoria agreed, "Deal."

"[i]They aren't your guns, Victoria![/i]" Javier said.

Victoria's response was to glance to another man, [color=red]Frank Rollings[/color], who was standing fairly near Javier. Frank moved up behind Javier silently, grabbing the latter man's gunhand and pressing his own 9mm to the back of Javier's neck as he said softly, "Don't even twitch." 

Harry had never seen Javier frightened before, and as he Frank disarm Javier, he realized that he liked this look on the man better. Victoria was pleased as well, gesturing Frank to give her Javier's piece, which she then handed over to Harry: "I'll get you the box of ammo after Cliff comes over here and shows us how to make a fur coat." She looked down to the cat and said with humor, "I'll look good in that color, doncha think?"

Javier was grumbling about what was happening just loud enough to ensure that both Victoria and Harry heard him.  The woman leading the second group told Frank, "Go get the gun case and keep it secure away from our friend Javier here." Then stepping up close to the gun runner, she said, "Don't worry, Javier. I'll remember how important you are to our happy little family. I'll just be remembering it without worrying that you're going to shoot me in the dark, like you wanted to shoot Harry ... like you've threatened to do to others on, what, at least three occasions. You're not a man I want to have walking around me carrying a piece. Trust me, Javier, this is better for all of us, including you ... because I was just about to the point where I was going to ask Frank to put a round in your skull."

Harry wasn't entirely sure just how authentic Victoria's words were; was her camp really so much on the edge regarding Javier? It seemed so, and -- to be honest -- Harry didn't doubt it, what with his previous experiences with the gun seller. Victoria gave Harry one last look before she turned for her camp and called over her shoulder, "Send Cliff, please, Harry. If I remember what I was told, we have to cut this beast up soon, otherwise the meat goes bad."

Harry watched Victoria, Frank, and most of the others head back toward their camp, while Javier -- glaring at Harry with true hatred -- and a few stragglers stayed to look at the dead cat. Some of Harry's people had by now come to the shooting sight, and Harry joined them for the walk back [i]home[/i], explaining what had happened.