The Rescue
This story contains explicit sexual content, dark themes, violence, and elements suitable for adult readers only.
© 2025 Rae Calder. All rights reserved. Do not copy, repost, or distribute without permission.
If you enjoy dark post-apocalyptic stories with dangerous men, survival tension, and high heat, you can find my newer books on Amazon under Rae Calder.
Tasmin’s legs were shaking long before the men stepped out of the ruins. She had run on nothing but water for four days, and even that was stale from a rusted pipe. Her pack had been stripped by raiders weeks ago, her knife stolen in the scuffle. All she had left were the clothes on her back and a length of copper wire looped around her wrist.
The scavengers—two of them, broad-shouldered, eyes sharp with hunger—didn’t speak. They just started circling, one on each side, like dogs who already knew the mean was theirs.
Tasmin squared her shoulders, trying to look meaner than she felt. “I’m not worth your time,” she rasped.
The bigger one grinned. “Doesn’t look like it’ll take much.”
Her hand clenched on the wire. She’d been cornered before and she knew how fast this would go. Her stomach twisted. She was terrified but too exhausted to fight. She closed her eyes, wishing her mind to go somewhere else. Anywhere else.
But a voice cut through the moment, slick and easy. “You two really want to waste your time chasing scraps?”
Tamsin opened her eyes. The men stood frozen in place. Another figure stepped from behind the rubble, lean and confident, his jacket torn at the sleeves. A pistol rested loose in his hands. He didn’t aim it, just let it hang at his side.
“Fuck off,” the smaller scavenger spat.
The newcomer tilted his head, grin lazy. “You first.”
Something in the way he said it, like he’d already won the altercation, made them waver. After a tense moment, they slunk back the way they’d come, muttering curses.
Tamsin’s chest collapsed with a ragged breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
The man turned to her. Up close, he was sharp-featured with the kind of smile that could talk a lock open. “You alright?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she lied, though her knees threatened to buckle.
He glanced her over with his piercing blue eyes. Not in a leering way, but like he was sizing her up. Then he dug into his pack and tossed something to her.
She caught it instinctively, but clumsily. A ration bar. Her hands shook as she unwrapped it, and before her knees hit the ground she was biting into it, chewing like a starved animal.
The man chuckled. “Guess you needed that.”
She tried to speak around the food, swallowed hard, then muttered, “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” He crouched beside her. “Name’s Jarn.”
She hesitated. “Tamsin.”
“Nice to meet you, Tamsin.” He leaned back on his heels, casual, like he didn’t have a care in the world. “You planning on wandering the Ashlands alone until someone less charming than me finds you?” She bristled but continued chewing. “I can handle myself.”
He smirked, but not cruelly. More like he found her amusing. “Sure looked that way a minute ago.”
Tamsin’s cheeks burned. She wanted to snap at him, but the food in her stomach was softening her edge. He noticed and offered a hand to pull her up. His fingers closed around hers, calloused but warm. She meant to let go immediately, but he steadied her when her legs wobbled.
“Careful,” he muttered.
She hated the way relief flooded her at that touch.
“Come on. I know a place we can camp for the night,” he said, pointing his chin away from the rubble. “It’s safe.”
Tamsin looked back at the ruins she had just climbed out of, then toward the horizon. She didn’t trust him. Not at all. But he had food, maybe even a fire. All she had to do was wait for the right moment then take what she could and run.
“Alright,” she said finally. “Just for tonight.”
“Deal.”
She reluctantly followed him. Jarn set a steady pace and Tamsin struggled to keep up.
Eventually he slowed and she was able to pull closer. Something gnawed at her, something she couldn’t quite shake.
Finally, she blurted it out. “What do you want with me?”
Jarn glanced over, brows lifted. “What makes you think I want anything?”
“You saved me. Fed me. Now you’re taking me somewhere with water. People don’t do that for nothing.”
His grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Sharp girl.” He let the silent stretch, then shrugged. “Maybe I just like the company.”
“What kind of company?”
He chuckled softly and shot her a sidelong look, eyes glinting. “Company that knows how to survive. Strength in numbers, you know?”
Tamsin studied him, looking for the snake in the grass she was used to finding. But he was already looking forward again, whistling a tune as if the conversation hadn’t mattered.
By midday, they reached a squat brick building half-covered in vines. Jarn slipped inside through a bent doorframe and waved her in after him.
It wasn’t much, just a few scavenged chairs, a stack of torn blankets, and a rusted basin with a water drum propped above it. Compared to the dirt and blood she’d slept in for weeks, it looked luxurious.
“Here.” He dropped his pack and dug out another ration bar. “Eat this then wash up. I’ve got extra clothes. Not the cleanest but better then...well...”
Tamsin didn’t move or reach for the bar.
“What? I don’t bite.”
Her laugh escaped her before she could stop it. It was a small, broken sound that surprised even her.
“That’s what they all say right before they bite.”
Jarn lowered the bar, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’m just trying to help, Tamsin. Stick with me and you’ll be safe.”
Tamsin laughed again, but then her stomach growled.
Jarn lifted an eyebrow and held the ration bar out again. “Eat.”
Despite herself, she took it.
While she ate, Jarn busied himself with a fire. Then he showed her where she could wash and change behind a crumbled wall. She reluctantly peeled off her filthy rags, grateful for the shadows in the room. The water was cold, but she scrubbed until the worst of the grime was gone. When she pulled on the clean shirt, soft against her skin, she nearly cried.
But she had to keep it together. Her life depended on it.
When she stepped out from behind the wall, Jarn glanced over at her. “Much better. I knew there was a pretty girl under there.”
She grimaced. “Thanks.”
“Don’t get sore.” He sauntered closer, eyeing her from head to toe. “It’s a compliment.”
She hugged herself. “It’s a line.”
He stepped around her to the pile of discarded clothes and grabbed them. She watched as he tossed them into the fire.
“You won’t need those anymore.”
Tamsin’s jaw set and she took a deep breath through her nose. “Guess not.”
“Come sit,” he said, returning to the fire. “I’ll make us something half decent to eat.”
The stew he threw together in the old pot was thin, but it filled the hollow ache in her belly. Tamsin licked the last of it from her spoon and leaned back against the wall, drowsy from food and warmth. Jarn was crouched by the fire, fussing with his pistol, humming a tune under his breath. He didn’t look at her, but somehow she felt his attention anyway, like the space between them was too small to hold it all.
“How long have you been traveling alone?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Long enough. Hard to trust people.”
He gave a low chuckle. “You trust me?”
“I don’t have much of a choice right now.”
“Yeah,” he said, laying the pistol aside. His eyes watched her in the firelight. “But you’ve got grit. I can tell.”
Jarn pushed himself up and crossed the small space, dropping down beside her. The heat of his body radiated against her side, close enough to feel but not touching. He nodded toward her wrist.
“Trinket? Or something else?”
Tamsin was surprised he noticed the copper coil. She lifted her arm, twisting the dull loop between her fingers and was talking before she could stop herself. “It was my sister’s. She wore it for luck. When she...” Her throat closed and she swallowed hard. “Not so lucky, I guess.”
“Well, it kind of is,” he said softly. “Brought you to me.”
Tamsin let out a dry laugh. “For all I know, you’re just buttering me up to sell me off.”
“I can see why you’d think that,” he said. His tone dropped, quieter. “You know, I lost someone too. We stuck together through everything. She was stubborn, smart...kind of like you.” His mouth twisted, eyes fixed on the fire. “But I couldn’t protect her. Thought I had it under control, thought I—” He paused. “Doesn’t matter now. Just wish I had something like a bracelet to remember her by.”
Jarn reached out, letting his thumb graze the wire where it circled her skin. The touch was small, almost nothing, but her stomach fluttered.
Tamsin blinked. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “I thought maybe I didn’t deserve to keep going when she didn’t...but what choice did I have? You keep walking, or you lie down and rot.”
She turned to him, seeing the lost look in his eyes. It was like he was somewhere in the past, fighting to hold on to a memory.
“Yeah,” she said. “That’s how it feels.”
Jarn leaned closer. “Some nights it gets so quiet it eats at me.”
His fingers lingered on her arm and she should have pulled away. Instead, she found herself lost in her own memories. The nights when she felt safe. Safe with her sister.
“Guess what I’m saying is,” he said, cutting into her thoughts, “I get it. I really do.”
“Men always say they get it.” She pulled her arm away, voice tight. “It just means they want in between your legs.”
“Hey,” he said quickly, leaning away. “I’m...I mean...that’s not why...”
“Sure.”
“I’m not all men,” he said, his hand on his chest. “Those men, they don’t get it. Women...you guys survive, adapt. That’s worth more than half the men I’ve met.”
She searched his face again. There was no mockery, no hint of insincerity. But she had met good actors before.
“Look,” she said, “I appreciate the food and shelter. I just have a hard time believing it’s all out of the goodness of your heart.”
Tamsin shifted to stand, but his hand on her arm stopped her. It wasn’t a tight grip, but enough to stop her.
“Maybe I’m being selfish,” he said, guiding her to sit back down, “but I just want to protect someone like I couldn’t protect her.”
“I’m not her.”
“I know.” He reached over and brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “And you could never take her place. Like I said, it’s selfish of me.”
For some reason her breath hitched. There was a gentleness in his touch, something she hadn’t experienced from a man ever in her life.
When he leaned in, slow enough to let her pull away, she didn’t. His mouth met hers, unhurried, coaxing her lips open with the tiniest bit of pressure.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered against her lips, “and I’ll stop.”
“Stop,” she said, her voice breathless.
She was surprised when he did. He broke the kiss and inched away, his eyes steady on hers.
“Of course.”
He looked away, but not before she saw the hurt on his face. Not disappointment, not defeat. Hurt. Like he was watching something precious slip away. Again.
Her lips still tingled. A strange warmth pooled low in her belly. She felt an indescribable pull instead of the urge to flee. Everything about this was weird...and fascinating.
Before he could move away any further, she reached out, her fingers grazing his jaw. He turned back toward her quickly, surprise in his eyes. As he opened his mouth to speak, pressing her mouth against his.
She melted into this time, amazed at what it felt like not to be taken or forced. Just touched.
