Shield (EBOOK)

This is a stupid idea. 

I watched Ava and Lottie embrace, the sisters as different as two people could be. Ava, with her rough edges, sharp points and biting sarcasm, contrasted with her soft, comforting sister. Their hair said a lot about them, with Lottie's riot of fizzy curls projecting a wild but soft vibe, while Ava's short hair was pulled into a strict, no-nonsense braid.

They shouldn't be separated. 

In the Before, Ava had been a Major in the army—and those skills had come in handy as society disintegrated into a post-apocalyptic wreck. 

Charlotte—or as we called her, Lottie—not so much. A veterinarian with a tender touch, I'd seen her soft heart break more than once since the world had ended. 

"Don't worry," I heard Ava reassure Lottie. "These bastards have nothing on me." 

"It's not the bastards I'm worried about," Lottie retorted, holding her sister tight. "It's the idiots with guns. I just—promise you'll come back?"

Ava squeezed her tight. "Promise. You won't even notice I'm gone."

A lump formed in my throat, my chest contracting as I watched the two women. 

This is why I don't do family. 

I cleared my throat, interrupting their moment. "I'm out." 

I shook my head, my straight black hair whipping in the strong breeze. Tucking it absently behind my ear, I nodded at the mad woman. "Ava, good luck. Don't get killed, or I'll find a way to clone you and kill you again."

She grinned. "I don't doubt it." Stepping close, she surprised me by wrapping an arm around me, offering a hug. 

Ava wasn't the hugging type, nor was I—usually. Her arms felt warm and solid, comforting even as I stiffened, feeling awkward by this non-Ava-esq display of affection. 

Unsure, I returned her embrace, giving her a quick squeeze. 

Are we huggers now? Or is she seeking reassurance that she's made the right decision? 

She pulled back, her normally stern gaze softened with amusement. "Don't run into any trouble while I'm gone. And be nice to Pope, he can't help being a doofus."

I forced a grin. "No promises." 

I watched Ava farewell the other members of our small tribe, her expression shuttering as she turned toward the waiting vehicle. 

This is it. We're divided once more. 

There'd been thirteen of us when we first began back at the College. Thirteen resilient, strong, intelligent women with the kind of skills you needed to survive. 

Thirteen displaced women searching for belonging. 

I'd recruited them, taking them in and purposefully cultivating a sense of family and inclusion in order to keep them in our small bubble. Our safety had been contingent on each of us working together in harmony. I'd calculated the risks based on numerous factors, including connection, personality and skills, before inviting and accepting each one. 

I hadn't anticipated forming my own connections. It was incredibly inconvenient to realise that I was coming to rely upon these women for more than their survival skills. 

Feelings are simply chemical responses to stimuli. Connection is nothing more than a feeling invoked by a cocktail of serotonin, dopamine and oxytocin. Rise above it, Audrey. It's the only way to survive.  

Lottie wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me against her. "What are her actual chances of finding Jules and Lilith alive?"

I knew she wanted reassurance, but I had none to offer. 

"Low."

As low as her chances of returning unscathed. 

Despite her skills, and that of the man she was travelling with, I didn't hold out much hope for her finding Lilith and Jules, let alone her returning in one piece. 

For one, she and Ghost were travelling directly toward a highly populated area that was no doubt filled with starving, displaced, distrustful people. They might have both been trained in combat, but two people against an entire town? It didn't make for good odds. 

Then add to that the fact she was female, and we'd somehow been reduced to a breedable commodity since the whole end-of-the-world bullshit had happened. And add to that, Jules and Lilith had been missing for weeks without any evidence they were even still alive.  

Well, let's just say none of it added to the positive outcome equation.

It burned to admit it because in the Before, Jules and Lilith had been some of my best friends. When I'd formed my end-of-the-world plan, Ellie, Jules and Lilith had been the first I'd asked to join—and from there, we'd found the rest of our motley crew. 

And now look at us. Divided, separated, lost. 

I refused to contemplate the demise of my missing friends.  

"I believe in her," Lottie whispered as Ghost started the SUV, the engine purring loudly in the quiet of the courtyard. "I think she'll find them and bring them home."

And where exactly is home?

I nodded, having learned enough in the past few years to recognise when someone wanted me to lie to them. 

"I believe you. If anyone can do it, Ava can."

The SUV pulled out, bouncing down the long dirt and gravel track before it disappeared into the brush surrounding the property. Slowly the giant doors to the fort-like wall surrounding the farm closed, sealing us back in. 

Lottie sighed heavily, leaning her head on my shoulder. "And then there were five."

I snorted, turning us back toward the farmhouse. "There are a lot more of us than that."

"You don't think it feels a little like we're slowly being picked off?"

"No," I lied. "It feels like we're doing side quests."

It was her turn to snort. "Like this is some kind of Dungeon and Dragon game?"

"Something like that." I paused, catching sight of Ella and Runner across the way. They were locked in a passionate embrace, her back pressed against the giant wall, his hands all over her as they kissed, uncaring of the attention they may attract. 

"I see they're at it again."

I glanced to my left to find Jo standing beside me, her arms crossed over her chest. Her short hair brushed her cheeks, her normally serious face lightened by a small, amused smile. 

A talented mechanic, she'd come to us via her two younger sisters who she'd been supporting through college. At first, I'd been hesitant to invite her into our small community, worried her rough edges and sarcastic gruffness would cause friction within our ranks. But I'd quickly learned that she viewed the world with a pragmaticism coupled with a fiercely protective need to defend those she considered close. 

At some point, I'd apparently become someone she loved. It was a strange thing to realise that her fondness extended to me. 

"I'm jealous," I admitted. "Since I left the vibrators back at Adaminaby, I've been in rather desperate need."

Jo pressed her lips together, her throat bopping as she swallowed. On my other side, Lottie tossed back her head, her laughter tumbling out free before it was caught by the wind and swept away. 

I'd never understood why telling the truth about your feelings or needs inspired such merriment in others. 

"A grave issue indeed," Jo said, her lips quirked. "Are fingers not good enough?"

I sighed heavily. "I've never been able to just flick my bean."

Lottie burst into another round of giggles which Jo and I ignored. 

"No?" She tilted her head to one side. "Why?"

I tapped my temple with my knuckles. "Too many thoughts."

"Ah." Jo nodded sagely. "I understand."

"You do?"

"Of course. An orgasm is as much about the brain as it is about the nerve endings."

I shook my head. "Not when I'm using the rose vibrator, it's not."

Lottie doubled over, her laughter drawing far too much attention.

I assumed she was laughing at me, but I never quite knew what I said that drew such a reaction from people. Feeling like a piece that didn't quite fit, I began to walk away. Jo fell into step beside me, her hands tucked into grease and dirt-streaked overalls. 

At least she rarely laughs at me. 

"What are you gonna do about it?" 

"Find a man."

Her eyebrow lifted. "Oh really? Which one? Pope?"

I laughed. "No, of course not. That man whore could be crawling with diseases. No," I decided, glancing up at the sky. "When we move on from here, I'll ask the first man I meet for his sexual history. If it is acceptable—and I find him attractive—then I'll sleep with him."

I felt Jo's gaze on me as we headed toward the big barn on the far side of the property. 

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"Oh yes," I agreed cheerfully. "I think so much better after sex. During my dissertation, I hired a male escort." I made a face. "He was terrible. I had to train him. He ended up giving me money back."

Jo stumbled, then righted herself. "An escort?"

"Yes. No orgasms, though. But I know it'll happen one day." 

Jo cocked an eyebrow. "No orgasms?"

I shook my head. "He'd been…." I sighed, closing my eyes as I remembered Jared's big body. "Strong. Large. Enthusiastic. He was a wonderfully physical lover, but my goodness, he didn't know a clitoris from a belly button."

Jo snorted. "I believe that challenge afflicts most men." 

I nodded sagely. "I agree." 

We walked on quietly for a beat. 

"But no orgasms with just him or…?" she asked. 

"In general." I shrugged. "A mechanically assisted orgasm appears to be my only option. But sex itself is very pleasurable. I assume that when—if—it happens, it will be very satisfying." 

"Because men are useless?"

"In part. But also because of this." I tapped the side of my head. "Physical exertion brings me clarity. It is virtually impossible for me to quiet my thoughts."

Jo nodded. "So why an escort and not a fuck buddy or a boyfriend?"

Because they expect some level of commitment. 

I swallowed. "I don't need a man whose ego I have to pander to in my life. Escorts are transactional. And while Jared was ever so pretty—he even shaved his genitals—he was conveniently disposed of." 

Jo coughed, then coughed again before changing the subject. "And on that note, when are we leaving?"

I glanced at the sky, observing the cloud formations, wind and temperature variations. 

"Tomorrow," I decided. "Cunnamulla awaits."