Page 5 of Sawyer’s Mistake

“Wow, I didn’t know these were still being printed in 2068,” she said, showing him a skin magazine.

He shrugged. He felt no need to tell her he’d spent enough time in military housing to know exactly what day of the month that particular magazine came out. He recognized the magazine as an S&M special, a kind of instruction manual for toppers. A smile played on his lips, but he held it back. She had no idea what she held in her hands.

“You might not want to look at that,” he warned. He rather wanted it for himself. He hadn’t seen any porn catering to his particular tastes for some time.

She pushed a strand of red hair back and looked at him, her blue eyes very serious. “And how would you know what I like to look at, Jake?”

“Let’s just say you’re not going to find much romance and sweetness in there.”

She nodded, her expression serious. “You know, I like sex sweet … sometimes. Other times … let’s just say I doubt someone like you would be able to give me what I need. But you’re right, a magazine’s no substitute for the real thing.”

With that, she dropped the magazine and turned around, brushing his arm lightly as she walked back out into the fog-filled street.

His mouth suddenly dry, he stared at the magazine on the ground for an instant before following her out.

#

Saoirse

She considered herself an even-minded woman, but this man sure knew how to press all her buttons. Where did he get off deciding what kind of sex she liked? She wished she hadn’t lost her patience and dropped the magazine. God knows she needed a bit of fuel for her fantasies, and she certainly wasn’t getting enough of the real thing.

She hadn’t had sex in over two years. Her last sexual partner before the Remur invasion had been an asshole masquerading as a Dom. After the invasion, she’d been too scared for a long time to imagine hitting it off with anyone. Even afterwards, she hadn’t found anyone at the Residence she could trust with her needs.

She noticed a small arrow, just like the one written over the tangerine box, pointed towards a small box attached to a lamplight.

“Look, Jake.”

He reached the box first and opened it, bringing out a plastic water bottle, of the kind that could still be bought for cheap in supermarkets in 2068, though doing so was in very bad taste.

He tested the cap. “It’s sealed. Want some?”

She nodded. They’d been drinking a lot of filtered rain water, which was safe enough but always tasted murky somehow, and the thought of having a sip of fresh, clean water was enticing. The first sip brought her back to the past. She opened her mouth to point out how delicious it was, when they heard a noise behind them.

Three figures appeared through the fog, like apparitions, dressed in long, flowing robes. At first, it was difficult to tell whether they were male or female but, as they moved closer, she saw that two of them were decidedly female.

Sawyer moved, positioning his body in front of hers, his laser gun pointed at the figure in the center.

“Stop,” Sawyer ordered, his voice loud and clear.

The figures spread out their arms, palms stretched out towards them, showing them their hands were empty.

“Do not be afraid,” the taller woman said. Her voice, like her face, projected a deep calm.

Sawyer chuckled. “Trust me, I’m not afraid, but if you don’t stop now, one of you is going to end up with a hole in your forehead.”

The man ignored Sawyer, addressing Saoirse instead. “Did you enjoy the fruit?”

“We have more where that came from, if you’d like to come with us,” the third woman said. She was much younger than the other two.

“Come with us,” the older woman said. Her hair was white as snow, and her face was unlined except for slight crinkles around her eyes. She must be in her early sixties, at least. That was interesting. Back at the Residence, they’d had very few older survivors. Most older people hadn’t been able to cope with the sudden change, the fighting, the fear, and had just given up instead.

Something about the woman’s expression told Saoirse she could be trusted.

“No,” Sawyer said, placing his arm in front of Saoirse’s body when she tried to step out from behind him. “You can talk to us here. Who are you?”

“We’ll be more comfortable back home,” the man said. His eyes were clear. Saoirse stepped out from behind Sawyer’s arm.

With lightning fast reflexes, his long fingers curled around her wrist. His touch was gentle but strong enough that she knew she wouldn’t be able to break it if he didn’t choose to let go.