Run mfb ped inc creampie brother/sister

From the imagination of Chase Shivers

April 30, 2015

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Chapter 34: Connections Old and New

Chapter Cast:

Gene Polanski, Male, 45
- Business VP, husband of Tamara, father of Lauren, Finch, and Logan
- tanned beige skin, 6'1, 210lbs, short peppered grey-black hair
Tamara Khouri-Polanski, Female, 43
- Professor, wife of Gene, mother of Lauren, Finch, and Logan
- dark olive skin, 5'6, 150lbs, shoulder-length curly rich brown hair with natural red highlights
Lauren Khouri-Polanski, Female, 15
- High school freshman, daughter of Gene and Tamara, sister of Finch and Logan
- medium olive skin, 5'8, 150lbs, back-length curly black-brown hair, colored white-streaked highlights
Finch Khouri-Polanski, Male, 14
- Eigth-grader, son of Gene and Tamara, brother of Lauren and Logan
- dark olive skin, 5'6, 145lbs, ear-length curly rich brown hair with natural red highlights
Logan Khouri-Polanski, Male, 12
- Sixth-grader, son of Gene and Tamara, brother of Lauren and Finch
- medium olive skin, 5'1, 110lbs, ear-length straight black hair
Holly Bridgewater, Female, 19
- Agent of Marker 1, sister of Anna
- Bronze-tanned skin, 5'1, 100lbs, straight shoulder-length straw-blonde hair
Marcus Hannigan, Male, late-30s
- Former agent of M1 and Playa Gordo
- Pale, freckled skin, 5'11, 185lbs, short sandy-red hair
Erol, Male, ~16
- Turkish student
- Light-brown skin, 5'7, 135lbs, short, wavy black hair
Hannah Henderson, Female, 15
- daughter of Dr. Henderson and Juliana, twin sister of Georges
- Dark beige skin, 5'10, 160lbs, long dark-brown hair in a ponytail
Georges Henderson, Male, 15
- son of Dr. Henderson and Juliana, twin brother of Hannah
- Dark beige skin, 5'10, 165lbs, mousy dark-brown hair
Dr. Erns Henderson, Male, 40ish
- Associate of Panthea, husband of Juliana, father of Hannah and Georges
- Dark beige skin, 7'0, 280lbs, unkempt black hair.
Juliana Henderson, Female, 40ish
- wife of Dr. Henderson, mother of Hannah and Georges
- Dark tan skin, 5'0, 100lbs, long dark hair
Adam (Silver) Silverbaum, Male, late-20s
- M1 Technician
- Ashy beige skin, 5'7, 150lbs, ear-length black hair
Marisa, Female, early-30s
- M1 Technician
- Light almond skin, 5'3, 110lbs, short dark-brown hair
Bendal, Male, late-30s
- M1 Technician
- Pale freckled skin, 5'8, 160lbs, shaved bald head


The walk up the small lane towards the gated complex was one of the longest in Tamara's life. She'd managed to avoid crying when she said her last goodbye to Hannigan, the man left a mile away where he could keep an eye on Tamara and Erol as they made their way towards where a high fence and heavy metal gate concealed what the man had assured them was the M1 compound.

It was all Tamara could do not to turn and run back towards Hannigan. She couldn't believe he was gone from her life. He'd become so integral to maintaining her emotions that his absence left her without a rudder. It wasn't so much that she doubted herself as it was how deeply he'd become part of her existence. Despite Erol's presence, she felt totally alone.

They stopped in front of the gate, uncertain what to do. “Do we just knock?” asked Erol.

“Hannigan said someone would call to us, but we would have to wait. They're likely scanning our faces and running checks on us right now.” Tamara's voice was tight and low, unable to keep it from trembling.

Moments passed before a woman's amplified voice rose above the light breeze. “Wait where you are. An escort is coming out.”

Tamara's brows lowered. “Odd. Hannigan said they would keep us outside while they interrogated us for our intents.”

“Maybe they know who you are?” Tamara had filled Erol in on much of her story, why she was running, how she had lost Gene and her children in the flight. She hoped they hadn't made a terrible mistake by coming to Saray.

The gate opened a few feet and eight men in nondescript dark green uniforms strode out, all business. They surrounded the duo, two in front, one on each side, two more behind, and the others fanning out further down the lane, scanning to their rear. The two in front roughly patted them down, taking their weapons and bags, then returned to stand ahead of them.

“Move quickly,” one of them barked. Tamara and Erol shuffled through the gate and heard it close behind them with a heavy clang.

Inside the compound, the buildings were as nondescript as the uniforms. Few others could be seen moving around what was four or five large, beige, one-story structures, small windows covered inside each by dark curtains. They were directed into the closest one and all but pushed into seats in a bland room. Four of the men stayed inside the room with them, standing quietly.

More moments passed. Tamara grew agitated, unsettled. “What is going on?”

“Wait, Mrs. Polanski. You will be attended shortly.”

She waited at least twenty minutes before almost shouting, “can we at least get some water?”

One of the men moved through a narrow door to the rear of the room, returning moments later with two bottles of water, handing one each to Erol and Tamara. She unscrewed the cap and sipped the lukewarm contents.

She heard steps outside seconds before the main door opened. Two women and a man entered, each of them in the same dark green clothing seen on the guards. A tall white woman stepped forward, her eyes covered by sunglasses. Coppery hair was just visible where it was tucked under her beret. “Follow me, Mrs. Polanski.”

She stood and stepped forward, heard another woman's voice behind her say, “not you. Sit down.”

Tamara spun, said quickly, “he's with me!”

“We'll get to him shortly,” the tall woman said curtly. “Follow us, Mrs. Polanksi.”

“I won't leave him!”

The woman let out a short breath. “He won't be hurt. He will wait here. Please. Come with me.”

Tamara resigned herself to their separation, cast Erol an apologetic look, saw the trepidation in his eyes, and immediately felt horrible that they'd asked the teen to come with them.

She was shuffled down a narrow hallway past several unmarked doors and into a small room with one light on the ceiling. Inside, there were four chairs and a small table. She was directed to sit in one along the far wall. Tamara sat quietly as the tall woman stood in front of her.

“I am Major Danielson. I'm commanding officer of this location. We've been looking for you for some time, Mrs. Polanski.”

“I... I've had a hard journey...”

The woman sat down opposite her across the table. “I expect you have.” Danielson stared at Tamara a moment. “You were with a man. Where is he now?”

“Erol? He's still where you left him.” She cast her arm towards the general direction of the front of the building.

“No. Marcus Hannigan. We know you were in his company for some days. Where is he now?”

Hannigan had drilled into her that they would interrogate her about him if they knew anything about their travels. She did her best to show no sign of her dishonesty. “He... died... in Istanbul.”

“Dead.”

The tears forming her eyes were all too honest. “Yes... we were caught in the bombing. A building collapsed where we'd taken shelter... he... he was... killed...” She let the emotion come through, hoping her genuine sadness covered her thinly-veiled lie.

Danielson stared at her a moment. “Hmm.”

Tamara said nothing else, attempting to slow her tears, feeling all to well the loss of the man, even if she knew he was not actually dead.

“Tell me what happened from the time you got away from the Victor's mansion.”

Tamara debated lying about her experiences, uncertain whether she could trust the woman with the truth. She had little else left in her emotionally, and the real story, as best she could remember it, poured out.

Danielson was emotionless, taking no notes, making no comments. She let Tamara finish, then leaned back, nodding once quickly. “I believe you, Mrs. Polanski. Wait here.”

She stood and slipped from the room, Tamara feeling very tired and lonely in the pale, featureless room.

- - -

“Kids, I need you to keep calm. We're being followed. I'm going to wind through a series of quick turns and see if I can flush them out. Not certain who it is, but I don't like that someone followed our tracks.” Henderson's voice was pleasant and calm, belaying the implicit danger in their current situation. “Try to keep your heads down.”

Logan didn't like the sound of the man's words, his eyes casting back towards the road behind them, seeing no other vehicles anywhere. He wondered how Henderson knew they were followed.

The van veered sharply right and down a dirt lane, the drizzling rain keeping the dust from doing more than wetly splashing in their tracks. Another quick turn to the left, then another. Henderson drove the van hard for several long minutes, and Logan alternative being thrilled and terrified.

Henderson called back loudly, “I'm going to stop in just a moment. I need everyone to stay in the van. I don't know what comes next. If I tell you to run, you run, ok? If I tell you to drive, Juliana gets you out of here. Ok... here we go!”

The van slammed to a halt, sending Logan forward against his seatbelt, Lauren's hand grabbing his shoulder to catch her own balance. Henderson jumped out, leaving the van running. Logan saw Juliana glance back at them, an attempt at a soothing smile on her face. Logan could see it was a facade.

The preteen looked back to see Henderson running quickly back up the road to where it made a T-intersection with another. The man sprinted down towards the right and out of sight.

Lauren's voice showed her fear. “What's going on?”

Juliana said quietly, “not sure, Sweetheart. Just stay in the van...”

Logan's heart pounded so hard he thought it was making him jumpy. He held his hand in front of his face, watching it twitch as his breath came in short draws.

The minutes crept on, more time passed by. The rain intensified.

Logan saw a car turn down towards them. “Someone's coming!” Juliana slid into the driver's seat, throwing the van into drive and hitting the accelerator.

A large hand slid out of the car's passenger-side window, a hand that could have only belonged to Henderson. “Wait!” Logan cried. “It's Mr. Henderson!”

Juliana took the van out of drive and quickly turned back to see. The car stopped quickly, and Henderson jumped out. He rushed up to the driver's side. Juliana lowered the window.

“Sorry, Darling. This damn comm stopped working for some reason. I tried to reach you. All is well! You'll never guess who has joined us!”

Logan watched as someone slid out of the car and approached the sliding door on the van. It opened quickly and the person flipped back the hood from their face.

Logan couldn't believe his eyes. “Panthea?!”

- - -

Gene waited with Holly while Marisa gassed the car and Bendal and Silver went to try to get a better signal for the tablet on a rooftop. So far, Silver had had no luck finding anything useful in his analytics, and the Gene was beginning to wonder if it was just one big dead end.

Holly had withdrawn completely. It was incredibly unusual to Gene. He'd only once or twice seen her so much as vulnerable, but the pretty blonde had become a silent shell the closer they got to La Bresse. Gene tried to talk to her quietly but he got no reaction. He held her against him and tried not to think about facing whatever was to come without Holly being functional.

Silver and Bendal returned moments later, the rain becoming heavier. “No luck. Still processing locally, but the software can only queue up searches and spit them through sporadically right now. Sats are fuzzed, not sure why.”

“Cloud cover?” Gene offered.

Silver shook his head. “No chance. This gear would get signal through a half-mile of steel. Whatever it is, I don't like it. Barely getting any net as it is, and what I do get is weak and intermittent.”

“Keep trying,” was all the encouragement Gene could muster.

Marisa got in and had them moving again quickly.

Gene leaned forward. “So we're almost to La Bresse. What do we do once we get there?”

“See what we see,” Marisa responded. “We don't know who or what we're after, no idea what might tell us where to go next.” The woman nodded back in Holly's direction. “Hopefully she's alert soon, whatever we're looking for, I expect she'll be the one to know what it means.”

Gene sat back and pulled Holly to him again. He was weary, so very weary. So tired he couldn't even focus on thoughts of his family. His mind wandered loosely, clumsily. He wondered if he was beginning to crack. Words came out without much thought as he whispered them to Holly.

“I had this dog once. Bucky. Damned stupidest dog I've ever known. So stupid he ran into trees, doors, forgot how to lay down. But I was a kid and he was my dog, so I loved him. I tried to teach him to fetch, but after about a year, I chalked it up as a good toss if he managed to wander somewhere reasonably close to where the stick landed.

“I took him swimming and he nearly drowned. I took him for walks and he'd fall off the sidewalk. But I didn't care. He was mine and I thought he was the greatest dog in the world.

“One time another dog in the neighborhood growled at him, threatened to start a big fight, had that stance that said he was about to attack. I ran over to break it up, but before I got there, Bucky had raised his leg and pissed on the other dog. That mean sonofabitch couldn't process what had just happened. Instead of tearing into Bucky, he ran off whimpering. Damned funniest thing I've ever seen. I doubt Bucky even knew what he'd done.”

A small chuckle came from Holly's throat and she looked up with a small smile. “What the fuck are you talking about, Gene?”

He shook his head. “I have no idea. But what I do know is that sometimes pissing on another dog before he bites you might save your neck. It worked for Bucky, at least.” Holly was trying to hold back another laugh. “Fuck if I know, Holly. But I'd say about anything to see you smiling again.”

She burst out laughing and wrapped her arms tightly around him. Holly whispered in his ear, “thank you, Gene... thank you... I needed that... whatever it was...” She kissed his lips and held him a moment, and by the time she broke from his embrace, the old Holly was rapidly coming back to life.

- - -

“Mrs. Polanksi.”

Tamara picked her head up from the table. She'd only wanted to rest and try to forget her situation for a moment, but apparently had fallen asleep. The man's voice was silky and almost crystalline. She blinked her eyes clear, took in his form a few seconds. He was short, thin, skin the color of sun-bleached leather. His dark eyes and hair blended seamlessly into his tight, collared knit shirt and tighter slacks. He watched her without a word.

“Tamara. Please call me Tamara.”

“Tamara,” the man said smoothly. “My name is Spider.” His eyes seemed to pass from her face to where her breasts pressed out her shirt. He paused there only a moment before looking again at her face. “Major Danielson has filled me in on your situation. We've been trying to find you and your family for some time. I'm glad you are safe.”

“My family. Have you found my husband? My kids?”

Spider held a steady gaze. “We have reason to believe your husband is alive, but he is not here.”

A small measure of hope bubbled up. “And my kids?”

“Tamara, we're in a bit of an odd situation here,” he said, not answering her question. “You showed up just as we were shutting down Saray. Last convoy is leaving in an hour. I suspect you know that there are others trying to find you and your family, especially your husband. As such, you'll travel as our guest for a while. To keep you safe, of course.”

Tamara welcomed about any situation which didn't include staying in the tiny claustrophobic room any longer. “Fine. Fine.. but what about my kids? Do you know anything?”

Spider shook his head. “Not in some days, no. I suspect they are safe, Tamara. We don't have them, and we have no reason to believe they have been found. I believe they are in hiding.”

Tamara deflated a bit, nodded weakly.

Spider sat down. “I know you have had a difficult time, Tamara. I know you miss your family. We want what you want, to find them and see them safely hidden from those who wish to harm them.”

“You mean you want whatever it is my husband knows...”

Spider shrugged slightly. “The end result is the same. We're trying to locate him. What he knows could save a lot of lives, Tamara. Finding him alive and safe would get us both what we want, yes?”

Tamara said nothing.

“Tell me something... did he ever mention what it is that has put his life in danger? Any details of what he knows?”

She shook her head. “No... he... he never told me anything until we started running for our lives. He doesn't know what he knows that people want, he... he doesn't know.” She realized there was some doubt in her statement. Deep down, she still harbored anger that he had hidden his life in Whitehead from her for so long. “I don't know anything...”

Spider nodded, offered a thin smile. “I expected that. We have been able to keep some contact with him up until a few days ago. He was with one of the people I trust. Unfortunately, the situation became... complicated... and we have no communication with our agent at the current time.”

He seemed to be offering a great deal of information beyond what was necessary, and Tamara wondered if he was fishing for something from her. “So what is it you want from me, Spider? Who are you, anyway? What kind of name is Spider?”

He chuckled. “I run M1, Tamara. After Victor's betrayal, I took over. However... things got complicated.” He leaned forward. “This man you were with, Marcus Hannigan. Did he offer you his story?”

“Some...”

“Some.” He leaned closer. “Between you and me, I think he's on our side, Mrs. Polanski. Tamara. When he left M1, he knew Victor was not playing by the same rules. I think... I think he did the right thing. The fact that he busted you out from Playa Gordo tells me he recognized that you represented something more than a machine that the Mantis could dismantle. He has my respect for that.”

“What do you want, Spider?”

He was silent a moment. “I think you know something, Tamara. Like your husband, there's something in your head that has been hidden from you. I think, perhaps, it is less about your husband. Oh, he's important, to be sure. But... Perhaps... it is really you who holds the key to all this. And I think Marcus Hannigan knows that, too.”

- - -

Lauren had been thrilled to see Panthea alive again. They'd hugged tightly, the woman's neck bandaged, and her leg injury obvious as she stood a moment outside the vehicle. She had excused herself and spent a few moments in hushed tones with Henderson before they all climbed back into the van, Panthea settled tightly against Lauren's side on the bench seat.

The woman had ditched the stolen car and joined them in the van. She offered little explanation, saying only that she was compelled to track them down. Despite a short whispered conversation with Henderson before they had gotten underway again, the reasons for her pursuit were left unspoken to Lauren and the others.

Whatever it was, Lauren couldn't believe the woman was alive. The last she had seen of Panthea was a frightening, deafening rush to the woman's car to escape from her home, leaving the woman wounded and bleeding as unknown assailants attempted to shoot them down. Lauren shuddered at the memories, shuddered again to remember the nights she shared in Panthea's bed. The woman had been her first same-sex experience, and Lauren certainly enjoyed feeling her warmth next to her as they rode north and west.

- - -

They'd chosen an unassuming, abandoned home a few blocks from what was considered 'downtown' in La Bresse to use as their headquarters. Gene had paced nervously for a while as the others discussed their options. Holly's head was back to normal, her energy and leadership keeping everyone tight and focused. Gene's head, however, was starting to feel raw and dull. It wasn't just the headache. He felt like something was squeezing his thoughts into small channels, making them difficult to differentiate, hard to follow for more than a moment. It was incredibly unsettling.

He said nothing of it, however, assuming that he was still recovering from Holly's pill and the days of stress and fear. When he could keep a chain of thoughts straight, he found he had little input of value to the others. Not that there was really much to discuss. They all agreed that whoever had nicked the ring would know they had arrived. Or at least, a follow-on instruction would have been left somewhere Holly could find it.

It was decided that Marisa and Bendal would scout the town and look for anything interesting. Silver was still trying to figure out why his connection was not working as expected. It had gotten worse in La Bresse, to the point that he had almost no ability to call out to any sat networks. He was incredibly frustrated, cursing like a sailor every time a connection timed out. He took his equipment upstairs and settled in to stew by himself.

“Why aren't you out there looking?” Gene asked between pulses of his headache. “Wouldn't you be the one to see whatever it is that might be there?”

“I will be out there soon enough. They're just getting a lay of the land, see if anything sticks out first. Honestly, I have my doubts that it will be something as obvious as a mark on a sign, or something like that. Someone will come to me. Perhaps with a message, or a bullet. I don't know.”

“If they wanted you dead,” Gene offered, “don't you think they would have got you when we were cornered in that bunker? Seems like an easy place to have dropped some fumes and killed us all without a fight.”

“I know. Agreed. I don't know what she's up to. This whole thing doesn't make sense. Her attacking Jesus and betraying us at Oasis. So many things don't add up there. But after Armenia, I've never been completely sure I could trust her. I hate that, Gene. I hate that seed of doubt that she caused in me. She's my sister. It shouldn't be like this.”

Gene's head throbbed and he sat heavily. Holly slid in beside him. “You feeling ok?”

He shook his head. “Pounding headache. Worse than that. I'm foggy... feeling... thick. I can't seem to get my thoughts straight for more than a moment before I lose them. Something's not right.”

Holly looked over his face, raised his eyelids, felt his neck. She frowned. “No fever, glands are ok, eyes bloodshot but no different than the last few weeks. Sorry, Gene. Here,” she reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a bottle, offering him a pill and a bottle of water, “good stuff. See if this helps.”

Gene mumbled thanks and swallowed the pill, found himself unable to sit up without nausea, and leaned down onto the couch, resting his head in Holly's lap. She slowly stroked his head as he faded from consciousness.

- - -

Tamara stared out the window of the heavy SUV as it rumbled down the highway heading west. She wondered again what Spider was talking about. He'd refused to elaborate further about his belief that she knew something important. Nothing in her life suggested he was correct, but she began to doubt herself the more she thought about it. It worried her tremendously that Hannigan might not have told her something as important as that.

She'd asked after Erol and been assured that he was also traveling with them, but she hadn't seen him since hours earlier in the complex. Tamara hoped he was alright.

She sipped from her water bottle and glanced back to the woman riding beside her. She'd said nothing to Tamara during the ride, as silent as the two men in the front of the vehicle. Tamara did not feel like conversation, so she was content to be left to her thoughts.

No one had given her information about where they were going. Tamara got the feeling that M1 was scrambling, something had happened to cause the organization some serious complications. Faces showed strain and concern. Perhaps it was the war which raged just hours south and east in Istanbul. Perhaps it was something more. She couldn't be sure, but there was no sign of just what might have caused the complex to be abandoned.

Tamara thought of her husband. At least Gene appeared to still be alive, but Tamara worried that he was not currently safe with M1. Whatever was going on had left him running and alone. Well, not alone according to Spider. He was with someone Spider trusted. Tamara hoped it was Holly. Despite her reservations about the pretty blonde, Tamara had an instinctive desire to trust the young woman. A stray thought passed through her mind and she wondered if Gene had been tempted by Holly as desperately as Tamara had with Hannigan, Erol, and Hilda. She missed him, the hollowness inside her left too-long and festering from his absence. Tamara swore to herself that if they ever saw each other again, she was going to spend days doing nothing but fucking his brains out. For a moment, it gave her something to hold on to.

Her kids entered her mind and the hope she felt moments before was crushed under her fear for them. Spider had said they were probably safe, but if M1 didn't know where they were, she had no confidence in such proclamations. Thoughts of her fantasies about Finch threatened to bubble up, memories of Lauren's body next to her while Gene fucked her at Victor's mansion flashed and teased her sexual triggers. Tamara shuddered, conflicted over whether she would rather dwell on her fears or let her incestuous fantasies keep her from sinking too hard into her desperate realities.

- - -

“We will need to stay here for the night.”

“Are we not going to the man you talked about, Mr. Henderson?” Finch asked the question between yawns.

“We are, just not today. He has suggested that the timing is wrong, I'll be in contact with him tomorrow.” He fiddled with a small electronic device a moment. “Damned strangest thing. Comms are spotty, never knew this baby to act like this before. First back on the road when Panthea found us, and now worse the closer we get to our destination. It is unsettling.” Henderson glanced down at the table where the five kids were munching on bread and cheese. “Sorry, I'm being a downer,” he said, bringing back his warm smile. “All will be fine, everyone. Just relax here. All will be fine.”

Henderson headed up to the second story of the home. Finch wasn't sure if they had broken in or if the man had access to it some other way. They'd driven around the town for almost an hour before he took them to the house and led them inside. Finch didn't like not knowing what was going on, but Henderson, despite his warmth, was not sharing the details.

“I'm glad she's ok.” Logan said between bites of cheese. “I like her.”

Lauren blushed slightly, mumbled, “me too.”

Finch said, “I can't believe she survived. She was bleeding so much...”

Lauren nodded. “She saved our lives, you know. We should really thank her properly. Not just words...”

Finch asked, “what do you mean?”

Lauren stared at her plate a moment. “Oh... uh... nothing. I'm just... you know, thankful. That's all.”

“Can I sleep with you tonight, Lauren? I don't want to sleep alone.” Lauren had told Finch that she'd taken Logan's virginity a few days before, and he knew that Logan's interest in sleeping with Lauren was more than just for sibling company. Finch almost felt jealous but let that sensation drift, remembering how much he had enjoyed being with his sister over the past few days.

“We'll see, Logan. Not sure what Henderson has planned for us. There's only a couple of bedrooms, I think.”

Hannah and Georges had been unusually quiet. Finch asked, “are you ok, Hannah? Not said much on the trip.”

She shrugged, looked a bit uncomfortable. “Got my period, so I'm not feeling well. Plus...”

Georges picked up her thought, “we rarely leave the farm, and even less often do we do so without a plan to return in a day or two. Dad's always been very firm on that. Usually, he goes over the itinerary and gives us responsibilities and contingencies, emergency contacts, that sort of thing. This time... we just left.”

“Makes us uncomfortable,” Hannah said. “I don't like it.”

Georges wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave her a light hug.

“Didn't we go because someone was following us?” Lauren asked. “Now that we know it was Panthea, can't we just go back?”

Georges shrugged. “I dunno. I guess Dad has his reasons for not going back. I dunno...”

The evening had grown deep and yawns were all around by the time Juliana came back downstairs and announced, “ok, kids. Let's get some sleep, ok? There are two rooms down here. Erns and I are taking the one upstairs, and Panthea is fine with the couch. I suggest Georges and Hannah take one room, the rest of you the other.” Her tone made clear what she voiced in her next statement. “Remember your promises to me. Do you understand?”

Finch nodded. Henderson was not to find out anything about the relationships they had developed.

Juliana continued. “Good.” Finch thought she was blushing slightly as she glanced at Logan. “We'll figure out what we do next in the morning. Goodnight.”

- - -

The convoy stopped for an hour late in the evening as a fuel tanker slowly topped off each vehicle one-by-one. Tamara stretched her legs and wandered off to the shallow ditch near the road where soldiers were relieving themselves. She'd long ago given up on any sense of privacy for such matters, and in seconds, she had her pants and panties at her ankles, a roll of toilet paper in her hands as she emptied her bladder and bowels.

Cleaning up quickly, she stood and tried to find Erol. She grabbed a couple of packs of rations from the supply clerk and ate crackers and jam as she strolled down the line of vehicles pulled raggedly to the side of the road. In the darkness, it was difficult to make out facial features, and despite looking for twenty minutes, she saw no sign of the teen.

Major Danielson had just finished urinating when Tamara made her way back to her vehicle, and as the woman pulled her pants up to cover her thick, coppery bush, Tamara asked, “Major Danielson, can I please speak with Erol? I need to know he is ok. He's just a boy.”

The woman continued to right her clothing, then replied curtly, “he is fine, Mrs. Polanski.”

“I keep hearing he is fine, but it's pretty clear that you aren't letting me see him.”

“We're in the middle of a stressful situation, Mrs. Polanski. Your concern for your companion is not high on my list of priorities. You have ten minutes to look for him near the rear of the convoy. I don't have time to hold your hand and constantly reassure you that things are fine. Believe me or don't, we move shortly.”

The woman walked away without giving Tamara an opportunity to yell at her. It made Tamara feel impotent. At least it seemed that perhaps Erol was with them. Tamara sprinted towards the back of the dozens of vehicles in the convoy. Some must have joined them along the way. Tamara was fairly certain that there had only been twenty or so leaving the compound.

“Erol? Are you out here?” she called out somewhere just below a shout. “Erol?”

“Tamara?” the teen's voice rose from nearby. “Is that you?”

She rushed over and hugged the teen, almost on the verge of tears from the relief. “Good... I was worried.”

“Me too. They told me you were ok, but they wouldn't take me to see you.”

“Same. Are you ok? Are they treating you well? I'm so sorry, Erol. I didn't know...”

“Yes, I'm fine. You?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “I suppose I'm fine. I hate this. I don't know what's going on. I don't know where we're going.”

Erol leaned in and hugged her. It was clearly cover for the words he whispered in her ear. “I heard two of them talking. We're trying to get to Krakow, but something is forcing us through Skopje, in Macedonia, before we can go to Poland. They didn't say what was going on. I get the sense that it won't exactly be easy.”

“Good job, Erol.” Macedonia. Poland. More places she'd always thought far away and interesting. Now they just represented more locations in the world which would forever be tainted by fear and stress and discomfort. “Ok. I hear trucks starting up. I should hurry back to my vehicle. Hang in there!”

“You too!”

She kissed Erol's cheek, squeezed him one last time, and ran back to take her seat.

- - -

Lauren held her brothers against her as they snuggled for warmth in the stiff bed. The house was cold, and what little heat it provided was centered around the gas heaters in the living room and upstairs in the larger bedroom. They all wore the same clothes they'd traveled in. There was no hot water and Henderson advised them to conserve their clean clothes for another day. Lauren had not enjoyed trying to clean her pussy with cold water.

Logan nuzzled against her breast and seconds later, Finch's hand was pressed between her thighs. Lauren smiled to herself. Boys. She didn't protest, enjoying the way Finch's fingers stroked her over her pants. Lauren kissed his forehead, then said, “guys... I'd love to share with you both, ok? We gotta be very quiet, though. Panthea's just outside on the couch, and Henderson is right above us.”

Almost on queue, a small squeaking noise came from upstairs. It was very light, but Lauren thought she also heard a woman's muffled moan ever few seconds.

Finch said quietly, “they're doing it...”

Lauren replied, “yes...” Her fingers were already inching down Finch's body and into his shorts, the boy's penis hard already. Her other hand did the same to Logan, the twelve-year old's smaller cock just as hard. She stroked them each slowly and knew her pussy was swelling and growing wet.

She released Logan's penis a moment, pulling her shirt up to her shoulder. She'd worn no bra, her hard nipples rubbing against her shirt had made her feel tingly all day. Logan latched on immediately, sucking on his sister's tit gently. Finch sucked in her other a moment later. Lauren stroked their cocks, moaning quietly as Finch's fingers slipped under her waistline and found her slick vulva.

Finch dipped into Lauren's vagina and she gasped, his fingers felt cool against her hot flesh, but they also made her clit swell and strain for attention. His palm grazed it once, twice, and she moaned again. Logan was starting to hump her hand, and she wanted him inside her before he came.

Lauren let go their cocks and quickly pulled down her pants and panties, leaving them hanging from one ankle, then pulled her youngest brother over her body and spread her legs. Finch brought his lips to hers as Logan thrust against her a moment. Using her hand, Lauren guided his small penis into her opening, and felt warmth spread through only seconds later as the boy grunted and ejaculated quickly. “Oh, Logan...” The boy's penis twitched and spasmed, jets of his young semen squirting into her body.

He slid off of her and Finch was all too eager to take his place. Lauren spread her legs wider, could feel Logan's jism dripping from her opening. Finch pressed in, sliding his cock into her vagina, holding himself over her closely, lips once more pressed to hers. Lauren knew Finch was fucking her pussy while it was still filled with their brother's cum. She felt the milky fluid becoming sticky in her pubic hairs as Finch slowly slid in and out of her tight, fifteen-year old pussy.

Her brother's strokes slid his body just right along her hard clit, and Lauren felt her tension growing with each movement. Her legs rose to his sides and she wrapped them around his upper thighs. Finch was grunting, pressing against her body, his hard penis so hot and wonderful filling her hole.

Lauren strained, humped back against him. Finch started to ejaculate, and when she felt the first squirt of his incestuous seed splash in her vagina, the teen came hard, barely holding back her moans as her brother filled her with his cream. Her pussy clamped around his shooting cock, holding it, milking it, willing it to empty completely into her body.

Finch held still on top of her, breathing against her neck, his dick slowly throbbing within her vagina. Lauren purred and held Finch with one arm, stroking Logan's hair with the other. When Finch finally pulled off her, his cock slipped out with a wet plop, warm, sticky semen rushing out and down over her anus.

Lauren let out a long, pleasant sigh after her brother withdrew and slid to her side. Once more, she pulled her brothers to her chest where they each rested their cheeks on her soft mounds. She left her pants down on her ankle while the boy's cum dripped slowly from her hairy, fifteen-year old vagina and formed a wet spot between her legs. Whatever was going to happen next, Lauren was content enough to relax and enjoy holding her brothers against her tightly.

- - -

“Holly...” Gene's voice was weak and he felt very distant, wasn't sure he was awake. “Holly...”

“I'm here, Gene. I'm here.”

“What happened?”

“You passed out. Bit worried about you.”

He groaned. “Makes two of us...”

Holly's voice was kind and gentle. “You were talking in your sleep. You mentioned Minover again.” Radiant pain flooded Gene's head and he groaned once more. “You were arguing with Utah and Poppy, not clear about what. Who is Quincy?”

Quincy. “I... I don't know...” Quincy? Why does that name mean something? Gene had a small suspicion it was connected to Minover, but he couldn't think straight and couldn't recall the connection. “No idea...”

“I get the impression Quincy was a woman, you said 'her' and 'she' a lot, but you mumbled most of the details.”

Gene rubbed his temples. “I... there's something there... but... ugh...” Gene felt nauseous. He wretched twice before Holly settled a small bucket beside him. “I feel like shit, Holly... what is happening to me?”

Holly shook her head. “I wish I knew, Gene.” She stroked his cheek and his nausea settled a bit. He realized he was no longer on the couch, blankets pulled over his body and Holly's in a small bed. “We're in for the night. Get some sleep. I'm not going anywhere.”

He managed a grunt and started to fall under again. He swore he heard Holly whisper “I love you, Gene,” just before he drifted out.


End of Chapter 34

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