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Prologue
It started in India and spread with the speed of air travel. According to the World Health Organization and the Center for Disease Control it was only an unexpected strain of influenza.
Normally each year influenza will kill one person in ten-thousand of those infected. Infection rates average 20% of an exposed population. The India strain of Influenza-A was much more contagious. Infection rates were as high as 80%.
But don't worry the CDC assured. Death rates were much lower, only one in ten-million. You might get very sick for a week or so, but you would get over it.
For two months the Indian Flu raged unchecked. Entire countries would become infected in a couple of days, stretching medical resources to the limits and in some cases beyond. A very bad time. Then gradually the disease burned itself out. The world breathed a sigh of relief and vaccine manufacturers began the process of adding the India Strain to the next years flu vaccine.
Then the Virus mutated.
And the World died.
Chapter One Now:
The body of what had once been a man, although now it was hard to tell just what he was, so covered with blood, so battered and torn. Around the body lay other bodies equally battered. They were just things now, no longer human, as they waited to decay to the dust from which they were born.
Among the remains scurried nature's cleanup team, rats and roaches, spiders and centipedes, digging out their due with fangs and pincers. The smaller scavengers crawled in and out of the nasal passages, eyeless sockets, and open mouths of the dead; greedily carrying loads larger than themselves. The rats, the mice, the lizards feasted on the outer flesh. Lines of ants marched carrying their cargo of flesh and then came swiftly back for more.
Yet these vermin left one corpse alone. From time to time a rat would approach and sniff the body, its black nose twitching rapidly, seeking the scent of decay. But it would leave, seeing that this one was no quiet ready.
One rat, perhaps hungrier or more adventurous, crawled atop the motionless body. It stopped by the bloodied head and looked at it for a moment unsure where to start. Then it reached out with sharp teeth snapped shut on the prone body's lower lip.
"Fuck!" the recipient of the kiss croaked through dry and cracked lips. He lifted his right hand, slammed it down on his lip. The rat voiced an indignant squeal and jumped away. It landed five away and quickly made its way to the other bodies, where the food did not fight back.
The nearly dead man opened his eyes just a slit and nearly screamed as the sunlight hit eyes that had been closed for days.
"Shit. Shit." the body groaned over and over. Memory flooded in like with a wave of debris. He didn't want to know. Didn't want to think back to those last few months, last few days when all was lost. He didn't want to remember that everyone he knew was dead. He didn't want to remember that he was dying.
He tried to sit up and collapsed back. His arms and legs felt rubbery. He could only jerk around without any real strength. He was used to being strong. Now like this, easy prey for anything that came along, he knew the end was near. Please, let it be near.
"Shit!" He screamed out the word with all the energy his dry throat could muster, but only a whisper emerged. "Oh, God."
Whether God was interested in this particular brand on human misery, who could say. But nothing happened. Only the sounds of the scavengers feeding and the stench of death answered him. He could feel them crawling on him.
He kicked his legs and heard a scurrying.
He remembered the dead and tried to shut off his emotions. He waited to fall back down into the black pit from which he had been rudely awakened. But the pain of his body kept him awake, torturing him into full consciousness. With each passing second the memories, the faces of those he had known and loved loomed larger and clearer.
"Jules," another whisper.
"Jules," a plea for love untimely lost.
Why wasn't he dead? He wanted it. Yearned for it.
He breathed a sigh of infinite weariness and let himself fall back, giving up his feeble attempts to rise. He would just lie there and wait for the creatures to finish with the others. Then it would be his turn. He would be gone soon. Please, God, let it be soon. The sooner, the better.
His memory was suddenly filled with images. Snapshots of his past shooting through him like a movie. They say that your entire life flashes before you as your soul leaves your body behind. He went with his memories as he waited for death's embrace.
==+= Memories:
He remembered the first time with her.
Her name was Jualisa Wanner. Jules. You called her 'Jualisa' at your own peril. They had been dating for about two months, when she said she would cook dinner for them.
They first met at the hospital. She was a newly arrived Pediatric resident fresh from med school. He was just finishing up an Infectious Disease Fellowship and had accepted a position as assistant department chairman.
From the first meeting each knew that something important had happened. Something had clicked. Each kept it to themselves for several weeks, afraid that if they voiced their feelings the promise of their heart would vanish.
Finally she asked him out. Dinner and a movie. The rest, as they say, was 'happily after'. Or it should have been.
By their third date she was doing the cooking. Having decided that he was not going to put 'the move' on her, she decided they had waited long enough.
Her apartment was a small addition on the rear of an old house. It had its own private entrance and parking area. A small living room, a combo kitchenette/dining area, bath and bedroom. She had only lived there since moving into town a few weeks before. The furniture was used but still in good shape. Clean. Neat. Without being overly so.
The meal had been a simple one. Spaghetti, salad, bread. When he arrived the smell of the spaghetti had immediately kicked his appetite in high-gear. Now, afterwards, he knew that it had been no store bought sauce. The taste alone screamed 'made from scratch'. He had helped with the cleanup. Drying and putting away the plates and such as she washed. Conversation had been easy and casual.
Finally the moment was there as she folded the towel and put it on the rack. Glancing around the kitchenette, she flipped the light switch. Only the soft glow from a single lamp in the living room lit the apartment.
"Well, I guess I'll be getting along," he said. "Thanks for the meal and the wonderful evening. Next time, I'll do the cooking."
She laughed and shook her head. "James, I'm afraid I can't let you leave just yet." She walked to the door to slide the lock into place. She turned, suddenly serious. "I know how I feel about you and I've tried to show you."
He nodded, unsure what to say. Should he tell her that he thought about her every minute of the day. Should he say that the time they were together was the only time he felt... complete. Should he tell her that away from her he was lost and floundering in a sea of loneliness. Tell her that there had been women in his life before her, but none like her. He had been afraid to voice those feelings.
"I've never felt this way," she said as she backed against the door. "Oh, I've had boyfriends before, some very nice ones. But no one has done this to me before. When you're not with me..."
"I love you," he said. Simply. The words came easy. Now he waited.
With flushed face, she hugged herself as those words washed over her. She closed her eyes. "Say it again."
"I love you. Jules, I..."
She held up a hand to stop him. Her legs were weak. If she had not been leaning against the door, she felt that she would be in a heap at his feet.
She opened her eyes and smiled. Her smile became wider as she walked toward him.
He gathered her into his arms, one hand holding her head on his shoulder. Her arms went around his neck as her body molded to fit into his.
"Say it again."
"I love you," he whispered and lightly kissed her neck.
Her eyes were moist and shining as she looked up at him, bringing her lips close to hers.
First tentatively, then urgently. She opened her mouth slowly and invitingly, her tongue reaching to lightly lick his lips and beyond. She could taste a hint of their dinner and more than a hint of promised heat.
His lips moved warmly and damply on hers, sucking and tugging them as she moved her head from side to side.
Her firm body moved eagerly in his arms as he held her, feeling the hot flesh beneath her blouse and skirt. He moved his hands up and down her back, caressing the slender curves. He felt a tremor move through her and she moaned.
She held him tighter, pushing her breasts into his chest and her groin into his.
He moved his hands slowly down her back to her ass, cupping and squeezing.
Reluctantly she pulled her lips away with a damp sound and wiggled out of his arms. With a hand over his heart, she said, "Again?"
Taking both hands he cupped her face and looking into her eyes, "I..."
"...love you, James," she whispered. She let her hand trace its way down his body. Chest. Stomach. A gentle squeeze upon reaching his hard cock. Reaching a decision she said, "Follow me."
Struggling to get her blouse off she lead him a few steps to the bed. He was right behind her.
At last, in the semi-darkness, she turned. Her firm breasts stood out from her chest in mounds of delight. From her lovely face down to her tiny waist and full hips, a vision of delight.
She pushed the bedcovers to the foot of the bed and laid back, letting him feast his eyes on her. The triangle of hair between her legs was just a shade darker that the hair on her head. Inviting. Promising. Beads of moisture outlined the pink opening.
As his eyes memorized every feature, he pushed his pants down. His cock rebounded from the strain and like a divining rod pointed toward her. Now she feasted on the vision before her.
She sat up on the side of the bed as he took a step closer. Tentatively she reached out, wrapped her hand around him. The coolness of her touch sent a chill through him. The heat of him begged her to grip tighter. With her thumb she spread the leaking moisture over his cockhead. Her tongue tasted the spice of his center.
"Mmmmm," she hummed.
Her mouth opened wide. As his cock brushed her lips, she looked up into his eyes and lovingly closed her lips tight. The sensation on her tongue as his cock was sucked deeper into her mouth brought from another "Mmmmm" from her and an "Oh, God!" from him.
She let his cock slide almost out of her mouth, pushed her tongue into the center of his cock and flicked it back and forth.
A pang of joy shot through him and made every muscle in his body quiver as she took his cock deep into her warm, welcoming mouth. He cupped her face between his hands and moved his hips forward.
She shook off the urge to gag as it touched the back of her throat. With an inpatient shrug she swallowed repeatedly.
The sensation of her throat muscles at work was almost more that he could stand. He wanted to pump his cock into her. Hard! He groaned as she pressed his cock between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. Slowly he pulled his hips back until only the head of his cock was between her lips. The shaft, damp and shining with her saliva, was stroked by her hand as she sucked and tongued the head.
He threw his head back as she once again engulfed him, her head undulating back and forth. Saliva dripped from her mouth as she savored his taste.
He could feel the pressure for release build.
Sensing this she put one hand on his ass. Her fingernails bit into him as she let his cock slide from her mouth. Cupping his balls with her other hand she turned her head sideways and licked at his cock and balls, smearing saliva along the side of her face as she pressed her lips and face to him.
Her tongue slid far out as she lick at him, moaning softly, then she released him and wiggled back onto the bed, her body flushed and trembling. "God... I love you so much... I need you in me... in me... now."
===++== Now:
He wanted to stay with the memory, but it faded to black. He joined the blackness and thought that there should be a bright light to lead him home.
End Chapter One
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