a/n: Finally we meet some more people! Don't forget that Kai translates for Nick, so when I say "Nick said," just assume Kai's translating so that ppl know what's being said.
now i know a refuge never grows
from a chin in a hand in a thoughtful pose
gotta tend the earth if you want a rose
Indigo Girls, "Hammer and a Nail"
July 19 - AR - OK
They stopped that night at a park marked on the map and made camp near a wide, rushing creek that was still deliciously cool even in the height of summer. Nick waded in up to his ankles, but Kai found a swimming hole and took full advantage. They had canned vegetable beef stew for supper and slept curled up together under a sky bursting with stars.
She woke him just after dawn with kisses, and after some slow, lazy morning sex and a quick breakfast they were back on the road. They crossed into Oklahoma around ten AM, and as lunchtime closed in they started looking for a place to stop. Their backroads route took them through dozens of little towns, all of them so far deserted (of the living, anyway), and so when they passed into May, Oklahoma and she spotted the dead body in the road, she wasn't surprised. They had gotten familiar with dead bodies in the last few weeks.
What did surprise the ever-loving fuck out of her was when the body suddenly sprung to its feet and threw itself toward the car. She screamed at full volume and slammed on the brakes. She and Nick were thrown against their seatbelts as the car skidded to a stop inches from the figure. He was tall and broad, with short brown hair, a woolly brown beard, and thick glasses. He looked like a linebacker-turned-lumberjack, and if he was a zombie, he was a formidable one. They shared frightened, wide-eyed glances.
"Not dead?" Nick signed.
"I really hope not, because you assured me many times that this wasn't that type of apocalypse. Are you okay?"
"That was hard on the tits, but yeah, I'm fine." He batted her arm with the back of his hand and pointed over her shoulder.
The man was now at Kai's window jumping up and down and waving. He knocked on the glass and waved again. "Are you real?!" he called through the closed window. "M-O-O-N, that spells real! Laws yes! Roll down the window! Or get outta the car! Tom Cullen won't hurt you, laws no! You nearly hit me, didn't you jus'! That's why mama told me not to sleep in the middle of the road! M-O-O-N, that spells road!"
Kai glanced back at Nick, and he looked even more confused than she felt. "I guess you should open it…?" he said. "He doesn't look…dangerous."
She tilted her head in acknowledgement and reached for the window control. She left the car running just in case he was dangerous and they had to haul ass outta there. The glass lowered and he bounced up and down in excitement.
"Hello hello!" he said, waving exuberantly. "My name is Tom Cullen and I'm forty-two years old and developmentally disabled. I have trouble recognizing social cues, so please do not be alarmed if my behavior is strange or off-putting. I can't read or write, but I have other skills I can do, including manual labor. Please let me know if you have any odd jobs that you need help with. I live at number Twelve Allen Drive in May, Oklahoma with my mother, Sadie Cullen. Do you have any questions?"
Kai's mouth fell open as the speech progressed, and at the end of it she snapped it shut again. She shot Nick a look, but he just shook his head. She hit the button to kill the ignition and started to open the door, but Tom was blocking it. Nick got out of the passenger side and started around, and when Tom saw him he grinned, ran around the hood, and began his speech all over again. She took a deep breath and got out of the car.
"Tom," she said. She tapped his shoulder (she had to reach way up) and he spun toward her, still with that sunny grin. "Hi, Tom. My name's Kai d'Arnaud. This is my friend Nick Andros." She signed as she spoke, and he watched her hands in fascination. "Nick is deaf and mute. Do you know what that means?"
Tom nodded. "He can't hear or speak! M-O-O-N, that spells deaf-mute!"
"That's right. M-O-O-N." She paused, nonplussed. "Anyway. Nick can read your lips, and also he understands when I use sign language, like I'm doing now. He can sign to me, and I can tell you what he's saying, and I'll sign what we're both saying to make sure he understands us."
He turned to Nick, then back to Kai. "That's good, laws yes! Tom hates it when people make it hard to understand things." He spun toward Nick and waved. "Hi Nick, I'm Tom Cullen! I'm forty-two years old—"
"Tom." Kai stopped him again. "It's okay. He got most of it when you told me. Didn't you, Nick?"
He nodded and held up both thumbs. "Nice to meet you, Tom," he signed, and Kai repeated aloud.
"Nice to meet you too, Nick! Laws that's the truth! I've never been so happy to meet anybody as I am to meet y'all!" He paused a moment, and his sunny expression clouded for the first time. "She told me y'all might be here today."
Kai and Nick shared a look. "She?" Kai said.
He grinned again. "Mother Abagail! Hemingford Home, Nebraska. M-O-O-N, that spells Hemingford Home! I have dreams about her sometimes, and I had one last night and she told me to look for you today—but I forgot." He scuffed a huge work boot against the asphalt. "I got into the liquor store. Daddy told me to stay away from liquor, but everyone's gone and Tom got lonely and at first I felt real happy, but then kinda sick, then I got sleepy and took a nap."
They glanced at each other again. Nick's brow rose. Kai tilted her head. He lifted his palm in a shrug. She flicked her brows upward and her mouth quirked. "We've dreamt about Mother Abagail too," she said. "We're heading to Hemingford Home if you'd like to come with us."
Tom gaped at her, then at Nick. "Really?!"
"Yeah, really. Isn't that why Mother Abagail told you to look for us?"
He lifted both arms in the air and turned in a circle. Punched the sky and hopped up into the air. "Hemingford Home!" he cried. "Tom and Nick and Kai goin' to Hemingford Home!"
Nick cast her a puzzled look as Tom's victory dance continued. "Pretty sure that's a yes," she signed.
"He'll slow us down," he signed.
"I know that. But we can't leave him here alone. He already drank himself into a stupor. What other trouble might he get into? He plays with matches next and burns the place down? Discovers the local meth dealer's secret lair and thinks it's rock candy?"
"Of course we can't leave him. Softie." He nudged her shoulder with his. "I love you."
She snorted. "You're the softie. And I love you too."
"Woooo! Hemingford Home! Do you wanna leave now? I should pack my stuff first. You wanna come back to my house? I live at number Twelve Allen Drive, and I used to live with my mama, but she died."
Kai's brow creased in sympathy. "I'm sorry, Tom. Nick and I lost our moms when we were kids."
"Oh, I wasn't a kid. She got the flu and died two weeks ago." He paused. Shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and pulled them out again. Shuffled his feet. "I buried her in the backyard, because Mr. Shelton down at the funeral home went off to Okie City with everybody else in town, so there weren't nobody there to help me. I said a prayer for her."
She was translating everything to Nick, and at this last bit, he gave Tom's arm a sympathetic pat. "It sounds like you did good," he signed. "What do you mean, everyone went to Okie City?"
He shrugged his big shoulders. "My mama and our neighbor stayed, but everyone else in town ran off, mama said to Okie City. They didn't wanna stick around here cuz it's a do-nothin' town. That's what people say, do-nothin'. My daddy ran off with Miss DeeDee Packalott, M-O-O-N that spells DeeDee Packalott, but that's when I weren't no more'n ten. Everybody left and mama died, and then it was just Tom all by hisself."
Nick and Kai exchanged another look. Everyone just took off and left Tom and an old lady alone? Weren't small towns supposed to take care of each other? Love thy neighbor and all that shit?
"I'm sorry they did that, Tom," Kai said. "But don't worry: you're not alone anymore. We'd love to see where you live. Hop in the car and you can point the way for us."
He let out another whoop and ran for the car. Nick moved his seat up to make room, and Tom chattered the whole three blocks to his house. It was a neat little brick ranch set back from the road, with a giant magnolia in front. The tree reminded Kai so forcefully of home that for a moment she sat frozen, staring at the spreading limbs, waxy leaves, and big white blossoms with a sliver of pain piercing her right through the middle.
Tom was already halfway up the front walk, still talking, but Nick hadn't moved. He touched the back of her hand where it gripped the steering wheel, and she jerked her eyes away from the tree.
"Sorry," she said. "I just—got homesick for a sec. It's stupid."
He shook his head. "You haven't given yourself time to mourn it, Kai. It's bound to hit you now and then."
"Who's got that kind of time?" she said. "It's too dangerous to look back. You get trapped there." Her mouth curved as her eyes moved from the tree to him. "Besides, I've got everything I need here in the present."
He cupped her face; stroked her cheek with his thumb; and leaned closer for a soft kiss. "We can stop here overnight," he said. "You could bake something. Bread, maybe, or cinnamon rolls."
That perked her up, as he knew it would. "Even if there aren't supplies in the house, I might be able to pick something up at the grocery store. We can ask Tom."
He smiled and started to kiss her again, but her gaze shifted to over his shoulder and she tapped his arm. He twisted around to find Tom standing outside the car staring at them.
"Y'all can come in. I'll show you my room! And you can meet the gals!"
She and Nick exchanged confused looks, and they both got out of the car to join him in the yard. "The gals?" she said. "I thought everyone left town?"
He grinned and rolled his eyes. "The gals aren't humans, silly billy! Laws no! They're chickens. Miss Ruby and her free range gals! We've got Miss Ruby and Miss Emerald and Miss Opal and Miss Pearl! M-O-O-N, that spells chickens!"
"Chickens?" That perked Nick up like the idea of baking something had done for her. "You've got chickens?"
"I just told you I do! They live in the backyard. Mr. Simpson down the road built us a coop, but Tom helped, laws yes!" Tom froze, his expression going slack. "We're goin' to Hemingford Home, right?" he said after a moment.
"That's right, Tom," Kai said. "Isn't that where you wanted to go?"
He nodded, slowly. "It is, but—what about the gals?! Who'll take care of them? I gotta feed them every day and give them fresh water and make sure they're put up snug at night so the foxes don't get at 'em! That's what Mr. Simpson said when we built their coop!"
She glanced at Nick, but his expression had turned thoughtful. "I guess you'll have to open the fence for them so they can get out to get their own food," she said. "Chickens eat pretty much anything."
"I can't do that!" Tom said. He scrubbed a big hand over his head and began to pace back and forth. "No no no, can't do that. There's coyots out there, and everybody knows the coyots is his. Foxes and weasels, too. Can't let the gals get ate! They're Tom's responsibility, laws yes, M-O-O-N, that spells responsibility!"
Kai's mouth fell open in dismay. Chickens! They were chickens! What the hell were they supposed to do about chickens?!
Nick touched her arm, and the look on his face sent a wave of tiredness through her. "You want to bring chickens with us to Nebraska," she signed, not a question.
He nodded. "I can build them a box. It wouldn't have to be very big. Just four chickens. And we'd have eggs on the road! Unless they got broody, which might happen. But we'd have eggs in Nebraska, or wherever we end up. And if we found a rooster they could make more chickens and we could help save chickens from extinction!"
She scowled at him. "Save chickens from extinction my ass!"
"Tom's right: there are too many predators for chickens to survive in the wild, and any farm chickens that were left cooped up—" He broke off, because he knew if she got to thinking about animals left caged as humans died off, she'd be out for the rest of the day. No amount of baking would bring her back from that spiral. "I'm just saying. It's worth looking into."
Tom had been looking back and forth between them with keen curiosity, and he seemed to understand what it meant when Kai threw her arms in the air: a universal gesture of defeat. "We can take the gals with us?!" he said.
"Yeah, Tom," she said, wearily. "As long as Nick can figure out something to transport them in, we can take the gals with us."
"Hooray!" He punched the air and danced a little jig. "Come on, Nick, we got lots of wood and chicken wire and tools back in the shed. Tom'll help you!" He grabbed Nick's arm and dragged him toward the backyard. Nick looked back at her with a helpless shrug, but she could tell he was thrilled.
Kai stood watching them go, then glanced around the empty yard. "Well. I guess I'll just…show myself in."
When Nick came to bed that night it was almost ten, relatively early, but working by candlelight was a pain in the ass, so they tended to turn in not long after dark. Tom had been excited all day as he helped Nick figure out a portable chicken coop and showed Kai around his house. He took her to his room, where he had posters of Dolly Parton, Superman, and Sailor Moon ("M-O-O-N, that spells Dolly Parton"), along with a ton of toys, mostly cars and racetracks. He was delighted by the idea of homemade bread, and she gave him a ball of dough to knead and shape all on his own.
She'd turned in around nine, leaving the boys to plan their portable chicken coop. Nick couldn't speak aloud and Tom couldn't read, but somehow they communicated better than one would think. She was happy to see Nick so excited about something, and she'd only known Tom about eight hours, but she'd already take a bullet for him.
That night when the bedroom door opened she looked up from her book and smiled. He looked exhausted, and he offered her a tired wave and pointed toward the bathroom. She nodded and blew him a kiss.
The house still had running water, but not hot, so she heard the toilet flush, then the sink turn on, but not the shower. A few minutes later he emerged, stripped down to his shorts and hair wet. He dropped his clothes onto the pile in the corner and crawled into bed next to her.
He kissed her, then collapsed with his head in her lap. "I have never seen someone with that much energy in my life," he signed.
She grinned and combed her fingers through his damp curls. "Poor baby. Didn't you say he'd slow us down?"
"On the trip, yes. Now? He's almost twenty years older than us but I feel ancient."
"Old man Andros. How's Operation Chicken Haul going?"
"Hang on." He rolled off the bed and dug through his pants pockets. Made a face, held up a hand, and disappeared into the hall. He came back carrying several sheets of paper. He spread them across the bed and climbed up to sit next to her. She frowned down at the drawings and then looked at him, wide-eyed.
"Nicky, did you draw these?"
He gave a modest shrug. "Just rough sketches."
They were a lot more than rough sketches. They looked like professional schematics. For a portable chicken coop. "These are awesome. The bottom comes out?"
He nodded and pulled a sketch closer. He spent the next ten minutes or so explaining his design, and by the time he was done she was thoroughly impressed.
"Wow, I had no idea you were an architect."
He made a face. "That's overstating a little."
"I don't know. It's just on a smaller scale. I think Miss Ruby and the gals will be very comfy on their first road trip."
"You think taking chickens is ridiculous."
She sighed. "No, I don't. I thought it would be impractical. Take too much time and work for not much payoff. But you're both right: we can't just leave them here to be prey. And the eggs'll be welcome. And now that I've seen this…" She trailed off with a shrug. "It'll work, as long as the ladies cooperate."
He smiled at her, slow and sweet, and she brushed a curl off his forehead. "What's that look for?" she said.
"Nothing in particular. Just—earlier I was thinking what all this would've been like without you."
"Hmm," she said. "Fewer orgasms, probably."
"Probably." He stroked his thumb down the healing scratch on her cheek, then kissed the spot. "But you know that's not all."
She leaned in and brushed her nose against his. Pressed a kiss to his cheek below the eyepatch. "I wouldn't want anyone else as my designated apocalypse buddy," she said.
His mouth quirked. "I'm glad I'm not alone—but more than that, I'm glad it's you."
She pushed him against the headboard and climbed into his lap. He gave her a lazy half-grin and ran his hands up her back so that she arched into his touch with a soft sigh. She took one of his hands in hers and kissed the tip of each finger. Each knuckle. The center of his palm. He watched her with an amused expression, and she smiled up at him.
"I love your hands," she said. She pressed her palm against his and he curled his fingers between hers. "How big they are. How good it feels when you touch me."
He was still wearing that insouciant half-smile. With his free hand he slid the strap of her tank top off her shoulder and kissed the cinnamon sprinkle freckles he loved so much. He trailed his fingertips along the curve of her shoulder and down the back of her arm. She shivered.
"Tickles," she said.
He kissed her neck and she ran both hands through his hair. "Do you know what Tom asked me?" he said.
"There's no telling."
He kissed her other shoulder. Stroked her neck and used his thumbs to massage behind her ears. "He wanted to know if you're my girlfriend."
She grinned. "Why? Is he gonna ask me out?"
"Ha. No, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure his heart belongs to Dolly." He kissed across her chest as he signed it with one hand. Nibbled at her collarbones and sucked a little mark onto the swell of her breast.
"I got that impression too." She tugged at his hair to pull his head up and kissed him until they were both breathless. The familiar hot, achy restlessness was building low in her belly, but she tried to stay cool. "What did you tell him?"
"Well, you know, my communication with Tom is a bit…limited. So I just nodded and gave him a thumbs up." He slid his hands up her body, dragging her top with him as he went. He cupped her bared breasts and nipped at her jaw. Kissed up and down her neck, flicking her soft skin with his tongue and sucking a bit.
Her head fell back on a quiet moan and she squirmed against him. "Girlfriend, huh?"
He shrugged. Tugged one of her nipples between two knuckles. Did it again, harder, based on her reaction. "That feel good, sweet girl?"
She nodded. "Uh huh. Do it again."
He did, with a knowing grin, then lowered his head to suck each nipple in turn, swirling his tongue against them in unrelenting circles. "What would you prefer?" he said when he lifted his head again. "Partner? Apocalypse buddy? Radiant goddess whose presence I am fortunate enough to bask in?"
She shivered when the breeze from the open window caressed skin wet and tender from his mouth. "That last one has potential, but it's kinda long."
His expression turned thoughtful as he wiggled his hand between them to push her panties aside and stroke her pussy with two fingers. "You've never complained about that before," he said.
"Not"—she let out a rough breath when his fingertips found her clit—"complaining now. Just for convenience sake, maybe something a little simpler."
"My hands might get tired trying to sign all of that."
"I don't know about that." She bit her lip as he dipped his fingers inside her and the heel of his hand ground against her clit. "You've got amazing hands."
"So you said." He nuzzled her neck and kissed the pulse point when her chin lifted. "You've got amazing everything."
Her laugh was breathless as he curled his fingers just right. "Flatterer."
He shook his head. "Truth."
More soft, sucking kisses up and down her neck, perfectly designed to make her crazy, and curling his fingers inside her over and over. Palm dragged toward fingertips and across her clit every time. It was a slow, delicious dance that melted her bones and sent molten sparks spiraling through her. She moved against him so that her extra-sensitive nipples brushed his chest, and he flashed another of those wry smirks.
"You gonna come for me, sweetheart?"
She gave a quiet moan and nodded. "You know I am," she signed. "Don't stop!"
"Let me see you say it." He rubbed his thumb across her full mouth. "Tell me."
She tangled her fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck and gripped his shoulder with the other hand. Rocked against him faster as his fingers went deeper, palm pressed harder. "Gonna come for you, Nicky!" she breathed. "Gonna come all over your hand. Feels so fucking good, gonna come so hard!"
"Good girl," he signed. His own breath was ragged and harsh, and she let go of his shoulder to wrap her fingers around his cock. She stroked him through the cotton of his boxer briefs, then slid her hand into the opening to find his hot, hard length eager and waiting for her. He throbbed against her palm, and she swirled her thumb through the pre-come at the tip to coat the head. His forehead dropped to rest against hers and soon they were moving in sync: his fingers inside her, hers tight around him, their hips rocking together in an increasingly desperate rhythm.
"Fuck, baby!" he said. "Like that!"
She ran her tongue over her lower lip and kissed him, hard and straining and greedy with need. "Love you, baby," she gasped when the kiss broke. "Love how you feel, love the way you fuck me!"
He stopped trying to sign—his brain was scrambled like an egg—and instead buried his free hand in her hair and just held on. A few more strokes from his fingers and rough jerks of her hips and her pretty mouth fell open as she went tight around him and the heat swallowed her.
"Nicky! Nick yes that's so good, so good yes!"
The rush of wetness that filled his palm and the exquisite friction from her hand finished the job her body moving against his had started, and his cock jumped in her grip. He let out a hard, uneven breath. The come pumped over her hand and onto her thigh in heated spurts as his own orgasm crashed over him.
They shuddered through it together, him mouthing her name and words of love and desire, her holding onto him like she might fly away if she didn't.
Finally she slumped against him and he eased his fingers out of her dripping cunt. He held up his shiny hand and shook his head in mock disapproval. "You made a mess."
She lifted a brow. "You are one to talk, sir. I have your come dripping down my wrist and my thigh. And not in the usual way it does the latter."
The crease appeared above the bold line of his nose. He hadn't even asked her first. "We've never—done that before. I hope—it's okay."
"I would have stopped if it weren't okay." She bit her lip and looked away. Looked back again, and she was blushing. "I kind of like it. Sometimes."
The worry drained out of him and he smiled, warm and mellow, and gave an easy nod. "I like finding out what you like." He ran a wet fingertip through the thick white stuff on her inner thigh. "Don't ever be afraid to tell me. Or—if you don't like something. I want to know."
"I know," she said. "And normally I'm not shy about things like that. Just—a lot is different with you."
"Different…good?" he said. He thought good, but maybe he was reading this all wrong.
She nodded. "Different very good." She spread her arms wide. "But," she said, shrinking again, "I think that makes me even more afraid of fucking it all up."
"Babe…I don't think there's anything you could tell me in that area that would fuck this up. I already know you don't like nipple clamps or pet play." He gave her shoulder a quick kiss. "Tell me the wildest thing you're into."
"Oh geez."
"Come on. Just lay it on me. I promise I can take it."
Her face screwed up as she thought it over. "Okay, well—it's not really that wild, to be honest, but it tends to freak straight men out."
His brows rose in a question.
"Pegging," she said with a little shrug. "Like I said, not that crazy, but straight men can be so goddamn weird."
He nodded, slowly, but inside the gears were whirring and his good eye was wide and bright. "You might remember that I'm not straight."
"I do seem to recall that, yes."
He lifted her off his lap and held up both hands for her to stay put. "Wait right there. Don't move. I'm going to get a washcloth, then we're going to talk about this more in-depth. No pun intended, except maybe a little bit."
He dashed to the bathroom and she leaned back against the pillows with a giggle. She felt loose and warm from her orgasm and she found herself hoping their conversation would lead to more of them. He reappeared, washcloth in hand, and gently wiped his come off her skin, then kissed where it had been. Inner thigh kisses led to other kisses and it was twenty minutes and two more orgasms (for her) later that they finally had that conversation.
I've got written thru ch20 rn, but I've slowed down a lot on this fic. I know what I want to do and where I want to go, it's just...taking a while to get there. So any encouragement is greatly appreciated!