Becky stirred on the brown couch; something wasn’t right. Her shirt and bra were pulled up, cool air and warm hands groped her shapely twenty-two-year-old body. She opened her eyes. Morning had arrived, and a man was sitting on the couch beside her, heavy black beard, crew cut, about fifty years old. Their eyes locked; he smiled.
“Boys, she’s awake,” Darren replied, removing his hands, allowing her to sit up and cover herself.
Becky looked across the room, pushed her blonde hair out of her eyes. Two other guys were there, decked out in green camouflage like the man invading her privacy, all of them wearing heavy black combat boots, armed with all kinds of weapons – guns, grenades, and knives seemed to be their weapons of choice. It looked like they not only knew how to survive, but they enjoyed it.
“So, how are we going to do this?” It was the youngest and tallest of the three, skinny, long hair in a ponytail, about twenty-five years old. He was standing by the window keeping watch.
“There are a few bedrooms in here. I figured I would go first,” Darren replied, looking at Becky, sexual hope in his eyes.
Becky tried to crawl into the couch, eyes darting for exits – none to be seen. She wanted to run. She wanted to hide. She wanted to be anywhere, but here.
This short story is actually two stories in one. The part you read above is the intro to Becky’s story and the bit I will post next week will reveal the intro to Joe’s story. Stay tuned. I hope you enjoy it.