WARNING: Bass claims male dominance, ultimately sexualizing and objectifying Gen throughout, so there is a lot of sexual content.
This is solely for the sake of the story. As a full-fledged feminist, I do not agree with, tolerate, or encourage that mindset.
Night of the Blackout
Terrified people swarmed out of the sky-rocketing buildings that lined the main road, and onto the dark streets of Parris Island. To say they were in a state of panic and confusion would be a vast understatement. The only sound Gen could perceive in those few empty seconds of utter dread was the thumping of her own heart. Her mind flew back to the images of Ben blabbering on about the lights turning off and never turning on again. That had seemed crazy back then but now it was reality.
Darkness enveloped her, even as she stood deathly still high up on her balcony, her knuckles sore from gripping the metal railing. All she could see was shadows converging within each other down below—that alone held her motionless with rising agitation and a dusky undercurrent.
Local residents in her building were storming down the stairs, causing such a commotion, well-deserved in their abrupt circumstances, that Gen subconsciously pressed two fingers against her eyes, taking deep breaths in order to try to calm down. She pulled out her sleek iPhone from the back pocket of her jeans, absentmindedly sliding her thumb across the blank screen in hopes of getting it to light up in a homely glow. But nothing happened. There was no rippling welcome, flashing across the phone nor was there the sign of any running industry as far as the eye could see.
After a slight pause, Gen let it fall from her fingertips and clatter against the cement by her socked feet. Immediately, the screen was fractured with innumerable spider-web looking cracks which slithered from the corner that had taken the most impact during the fall.
With more speed than she could imagine she possessed in that circumstance, Gen broke off to her room, shoving the closest articles of clothing that she could reach at the moment into Miles' old military issued rucksack. Her hand overlooked the Wellington boots and grabbed the steel-toed combat boots that had been collecting dust in the back of her closet since her service time came to a bleak end.
Guns! she thought without flinching, running to the linen cabinet and shoving the towels back to grab the boxes of ammunition appropriate for her hoarded up mass of weaponry. She said a mental prayer in her head, thanking whatever higher power was sitting up there for letting her force herself to spend the last of her salary on boxes filled with thousands of shiny new bullets in total the day before.
Gen's eyes wandered from her fully packed duffel and rested on her reflection in the mirror behind her bedroom door. The moonlight shone through the drawn curtains and created a halo around her well-built figure. She cocked her head to the side, her concentration poised on her own body.
She looked like a soldier again. Hell, she already felt like one again.
Her shoulders appeared broad under the sharp, worn-looking canvas jacket she had thrown on and her face was pulled into a emotionless glare.
It was true. She was just a soldier standing ready at the dawn of a war, ready to fall back into the ranks.
There was a loud pounding from the front door which made Gen jump in surprise, wondering to herself just how long she was standing in the middle of her room staring at herself. Miles' fist nearly collided with her face when the door was flung open.
"Did Ben call you?" He rushed into the loft, heading straight for the room he had claimed as his own when he was on leave.
"No," She quickly said, her adrenaline kicking in when she saw her brother's bursts of energy. "Why?"
"We have to get out of here," was her brother's frank reply when he finished packing his own duffel, grabbing her hand and dragging her down the flights of stairs.
"Why are you in such a hurry?" Gen demanded, stopping dead in her tacks so Miles was forced to face her when he was yanked back.
He towered a good foot above her, his breathing labored and his entire face in a firm scowl. "Gen, the lights are never coming back on. We have to get the hell out of here before these civilian apes catch wind. They are going to raid each and every building eventually and they are not going to let anyone stand in their way."
Before she could open her mouth to speak, he was already halfway down the next flight going down to where Sebastian was waiting with his own bag of belongings.
"Hey," Bass greeted her with a slanted smile, his eyes dancing with optimistic energy and expressiveness.
"Let's go," Miles briskly started walking into the alleyway with determination, knowing the other two would easily be able to fall into his quick trek.
***Revolution***
"For God's sake," Miles groaned when he caught sight of his sister stumbling to another stop twenty feet behind to pull her foot up to her knee so she could attempt to shake out a rock.
"There's a damn hitchhiker in my boot," She jumped on one foot, eventually sitting on the grassy shoulder of the local forest they were taking a short cut through. Sebastian made his way back to her help her while her brother waited impatientlytapping his foot. Miles' every facial feature was indignant but amused nonetheless before starting forward again, his boots crunching against the dried leaves on the forest bed while putting in,
"Just keep up, doggy,"
Gen's head snapped up. "Did he just call me a bitch indirectly?"
"Well, if the shoe fits," Miles called out having heard her question.
"What an ass," She chuckled, rolling her eyes and taking the hand Bass held out to her after she had fished out the small pebble that was lodged under her foot.
"I heard that too, doggy."
"Miles," Gen caught her breath, adjusting the rucksack on her back. "I know Ben called, what did he say?"
"He told me what I've been telling you for that past three hours," Miles replied, not bothering to look back.
"I got that part three hours ago, genius." She followed, piercing him with a taste of his own medicine: raw stubbornness and persistence.
Sebastian caught her hand, pulling her back to walk along side him. "He'll talk when he can wrap his head around all of this, Gen."
Gen nodded, cherishing the gentle, human look in his eyes and embracing his warm touch, unaware that that would be one of her last moments with the real Sebastian Monroe.
"You think you're gonna be okay?" He asked in a low undertone, glancing down at her familiarly.
"Why wouldn't I be?" She scoffed, with a wry grin.
"There's a hell of a lot going on, Gen, if you hadn't noticed."
"What do you want me to do, Bass? Spread my legs and show you everything?"
Miles threw a look over his shoulder briefly, appearing nauseated at such a far-off suggestion.
Gen stifled a snicker. "Too soon?"
"Maybe a bit," Bass mirrored the smile that etched her face, raking a hand through his curly hair. "You Army girls really know how to pick 'em."
"Are you trying to distract me with moot compliments?"
"Why, is it working?"
Gen quickened her pace, almost determined to make him chase her. Somehow he always seemed to know just what she wanted and increased his speed to fall back by her side.
"What?" she asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under his intense gaze. She recognized the look in his eyes. That gleam that was far from evil but nowhere near innocent either.
"Gen!" She could almost see that bored expression on Miles' face when he called her. "Stop patronizing him."
Gen bit the inside of her cheek, trying to suppress the mischievous, self-confident smile forced her mouth into a sideways curve.
When they were younger, she would always be the one to on the receiving end of the boyish tricks formulated by her brothers and Bass. On more than one occasion, Sebastian got black and purple bruises and broke various parts of his body from the force of Gen's relentless hail storm of punches and kicks when he'd harmlessly pull the ends of her pigtails or put reptiles and amphibians in her bed. They were gifts from the goodness of his nine-year old heart and he never understood why she reacted like he had started World War 3 or was the cause of mass genocide and rebellion.
Six Years after the Blackout
Sebastian restlessly paced the length of the bedroom. Candles were lit near every corner, casting a dim light throughout the large room. Gen's cheek was pressed against the smooth bedpost, her eyes following his every move. Goosebumps rose on her bare legs from the draft through the shattered window where she had last saw her older brother jumping through. She pulled Sebastian's shirt closer against her body, not daring to move.
Even now, when Sebastian possessed little less than regular human compassion in his body, she couldn't take her eyes off of him. Maybe she thought if she looked away he'd be lost forever—out of her power to offer his decaying soul any sort of redemption.
For a brief second, Gen remembered...she remembered the part of him that was alive once so long ago.
He could kiss her and please her and take her to the highest depths of sheer ecstasy, but he couldn't light that spark anymore.
She couldn't help him. He was too far gone.
"Where're you going?" Bass snapped when he caught sight of her slip toward the door.
"I was..." As soon as the words faintly escaped her mouth it evaporated in the long distance between them, not even lingering as a hanging, fading thought.
He stared at her with his beautiful green eyes, making the pit of Gen's stomach sink in a sharp downward spiral of lust.
He was hers. Every inch of his toned, irresistible body belonged to her and only her. That sense of possession alone was enough for Gen to dismiss every aching doubt she held toward him.
"Stay with me." He ordered with his arms extended out to her.
Gen's lips parted as she walked toward him and all his beguiling charm. Every silent, barefooted step she took closer towards the General of the Militia the more her soul shrieked and scratched mercilessly inside.
"You okay, babe?" His damning eyes furrowed in empty concern.
Gen's breathing hitched slightly. He sensed the change and smoothly allowed his hands to find the hem of the shirt she wore. Her hips buckled against his—suddenly helpless and lacking free-will under his gaze.
"I'm fine," she said in a shaky, cracked voice, shuddering when his knuckles brushed against her skin.
I'm just not happy.
Her hands ran up his firm biceps, and she clutched a fistful of the thermal he had thrown on. As much as she tried now, Gen could never unlock the titanium gate that barred his stone heart.
"I'm not that terrible," He gripped her waist, crushing her hipbone against his until she let out a moan.
"Not...by half." Gen panted between shock waves of painful pleasure, recognizing the sick mind game he was playing but unable and unwilling to fight back in her own defense.
He thrust his midriff against hers again, and this time Gen yelped in surprise, falling forward so her chin was resting in the curve of his shoulder blade.
"Not by half," She repeated, squinting back the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes.
A big thank you to TomHiddlestonLover10 who, from the goodness of her heart, have been reading over and correcting my little mistakes. Check out her profile, it'll be well worth it :)
Also, Jeremy Baker is going to be in the next chapter and it is going to be amazing! Keep a head's up :)