In Search of Paradise

Three weary travelers sloshed their way through the mud, product of toxic rain falling on exposed soil. There were little puddles everywhere but not a drop of non-lethal water to drink. It had rained during the night but the day had dawned hot and dry. Their supplies were running low and so were their tempers.

“Shit. Water,” Ben mumbled not having enough energy to articulate himself any clearer than that.

Zawadi stopped walking, rolling her eyes dramatically just so as to have an excuse not to put one foot in front of the other for a minute, “Yeah okay… So what else is new?”

Ben lifted his head slowly, eyes narrowing at her.

“Always such a bitch, Zawadi. Maybe you need to get laid.”

“Maybe I would if I wasn’t stuck in this nightmare wasteland with a couple of homosexshuols.”

“One of whom is your brother, so show some respect.”

Zawadi stared at him, trying to guess whether he was serious or just talking out of the side of his face.

“I think your last brain cell just got scrambled,” she declared, “Or is it that you’re so used to playing both sides of the fence that you-”

“Okay, okay.” Anders pushed himself between them. “Enough. We’re all tired and thirsty and annoyed because of it. There’s nowhere to stop in sight, so we have to keep walking. How about you guys save your energy for putting one foot in front of the other?”

Even when the world still worked the way it should, Anders had always been tall and thin. Now he was closer to emaciated. Ben had somehow managed to maintain the athletic build that made him a legend on the rugby pitch.

Anders’ father had come to the coast of Kenya for holiday and found more than he bargained for. One of the dancing Maasai girls who entertained them at the hotel caught his eyes. Sven Mikaelsson liked to run and he employed his skills to chase Sunyai down. She succumbed to his embraces and his promises and Anders was the result.

Two years after his birth, Anders’ mother had Zawadi by Akasha, a Swahili man she was shacking up with. Sven was long gone by then, leaving nothing but a dog-eared photo for them to remember him by. Akasha was disposed to lord it over the household, spend his days drinking mnazi[1] and talking politics before coming home to demand whatever cash Sunyai had managed to make selling curios.

What broke the camel’s back on that second relationship was Akasha mouthing off one too many times about Anders’ ‘deadbeat dad’ and declaring that Anders had no choice but to follow in his deadbeat footsteps. Sunyai got fed up and threw him out on Anders’ fourteenth birthday.

Best present he ever got.

Zawadi was not as happy with the turn of events as Anders though.

Who could blame her?

He was her father after all. Say what you would about him, but he doted on her.

Anders and Zawadi didn’t talk for three years after Akasha left.

That had been ten years ago when the world still kind of worked. People had jobs, professions hustles; they went upcountry to visit their relatives, spent all their money on alcohol, watched Manchester United obsessively and went to church. Then one day, Vordania Prime, an asteroid the size of Russia, hit the earth and all hell literally broke loose.

Now here they were, trekking in the Sahara desert. Three refugees from the apocalypse trying to make it in this travesty of an afterlife.

Eight days.

That’s all it took to turn the earth into a bleeding husk; a mocking remnant of the planet it used to be.

“I’m tired. Let’s stop here,” Zawadi said, not half an hour later.

“No. We gotta keep going. Another day and we’ll run out of water,” Anders replied.

“So we’ll dig! There’s water under the sand, we just have to siphon it to the surface,” Zawadi said, much to Ben’s amusement.

“Siphon it? Who do you think you are? Indiana Jones? How exactly do we go about doing that exactly?”

Zawadi glared at him and continued walking with her head held high.

“That’s what I thought,” Ben murmured under his breath.

But not so far under that Zawadi didn’t hear him.

She whirled around ready to fight him but suddenly she was lifted into the air as Anders slung her over his shoulder. He pointed back at his boyfriend.

“You. Shut up.” He said and then slapped Zawadi’s ass. “You, as well, smartass.”

He walked on, Zawadi growling at him to put her down. She was very tired and wouldn’t really have minded the ride. But having her stomach pressed against Anders’ bony shoulder and the gently swaying motion engendered by his stride was making her nauseous.

“Andy, I’m serious. Unless you want me to vomit on your shoes, put me down,” she said.

Anders immediately lowered her slowly to her feet.

“Okay, walk in front of me,” he said pushing her a bit to get her to start walking.

She turned around and stomped away, not sure if she was annoyed or relieved.

Ben, wisely, kept his peace.

The walk seemed endless in the empty unchanging landscape before Zawadi spotted what appeared to be a cluster of palm trees in the distance.

“Tell me you see those, too!” she exclaimed, turning back to face her brother and Ben.

Anders squinted. “Looks like an oasis,” he said.

Zawadi whipped her head round to look at him. “So, you see it too?” she said, her tone urgent.

Anders nodded slowly. “Yah, I see it.”

They waited a bit, to see if the source of water in front of them was a trick of the light or of their thirst. But it stayed steady, not blinking out of existence...They hesitated to take that first step until Ben sighed, stepped around Anders and headed for the oasis. Anders and Zawadi followed reluctantly behind.

So thirsty.

So ready for something good to happen.

The oasis did not disappear.

As they drew nearer, the sand under their feet gave way to tufts of hard yellow grass, which became greener the closer they came to the oasis. The more they saw evidence that they were nearing a water source, the faster they walked.

And then they were there.

There was a small spring of water, surrounded by palm trees and Napier grass. Anders fell on his knees cupping his hands and filling them with water. He lifted them to his lips but just as he was about to drink Ben’s hand whipped out to stop him.

Anders loved Ben.

He did.

But he would personally strangle him until he was dead if he did not let him get his drink on.

“What if it’s no good?” Ben asked and Anders turned his dark eyes on him in anger.

“No good how?”

“It could be poisonous.”

Anders let the cool water drip back into the pool from between his fingers. He looked around searching for any signs that the body of water they’d found was toxic. There were some plants floating in the water. They were green, not sickly looking. And sure, the water looked dirty – they were out in the Sahara Desert for crying out loud. This wasn’t city council water. Obviously, it wasn’t clean.

But poisonous?

Ben be straight trippin’.

“What makes you think that?” he asked holding onto his annoyance with both hands.

Ben sighed. “I don’t know. The rain maybe? I just think we should be careful. Start with small sips? Maybe boil the water?”

“Boil with what?” Zawadi asked not bothering to hide her own irritation. “Do you have a sufuria[2] you’re hiding somewhere? What are we going to boil it in?”

Ben cast his eyes about helplessly. Clearly, he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Zawadi sighed and then leaned forward, scooped up some water and took a sip. She closed her eyes, letting the taste of the water wash over her tongue. It was slightly tangy, maybe a whiff of iron – but that could be from her bleeding gums – and it had a slimy feel. Probably from the plants growing on its surface.

“I think it’s fine,” she said, swallowing.

Both men watched her intently for a while, maybe to see if she would keel over. But she just scooped up some more water, rinsed out her mouth and drank again before pouring some more over her head.

“I think it’s fine,” Anders said to Ben.

“Yah, okay.” Ben conceded, delicately scooping some water into his own hands.

For such a big man, he was very dainty. Zawadi figured he definitely must be the bottom in his and her brother’s relationship. Plus that ass of his was made for plowing. Zawadi smirked at her dirty thoughts.

“What?” Anders asked.

“Nothing. Just thinking about y’all’s love life,” she said.

Ben glared at her. “And what business is that of yours?” he asked.

Zawadi shrugged. “It’s not. Just very hard not to think about. By the way, I hope I’m not getting in the way of you guys, you know, gerring it.” She said, smirk still firmly in place.

Anders flicked some water toward her as Ben glared.

They decided to stay the night at the oasis. There was adequate shelter from the trees and it wasn’t like they were on a schedule. The plan was to reach the Red Sea.

They had traveled across what used to be Kenya, Somalia, Sudan, and Chad and now they were possibly in Egypt, or maybe still in Chad. They weren’t following the roads – it was too dangerous with the roving bands of Al Shabaab[3] doing their best to terrorize what was left of civilization into submission. Not to mention ex-military-turned-thugs having skirmishes with other bands of former military guys defending their territory. Africa had been largely unaffected by the mushroom clouds of nuclear effluent brought about by the destruction of nuclear plants and bomb-making factories which had decimated Europe and America as well as parts of Asia. But they weren’t immune to the fallout.

Ben, Anders, and Zawadi had decided to head north to Egypt after everyone they knew had died because while the ruling Muslim Brotherhood was as bad as any other so-called leader at the moment, they also had been in charge a long time. They were pros at surviving in the current dystopian conditions so things might be slightly better there than anywhere else. Besides, they had heard that something had happened in the pyramids. That the old gods were back and taking over the land.

They figured that any community that had time to spin such fairy tales had sufficient leisure time meaning they weren’t living in survival mode only.

The three of them were tired. They just wanted to rest.

“Speaking of resting, I’m just gonna take my sleeping bag behind that tree, give you two some privacy,” Zawadi said. She could be a brat at times but that didn’t mean she was selfish. They’d had to stay close, sleeping in a row most nights, with one person on guard. It didn’t make for many sexy times though she was sure Ben and Anders still managed to get their groove on now and then when she was asleep.

But the oasis seemed fairly secure with good visibility, and no one nearby. They could afford to be out of sight if not earshot of each other. If the boys were quiet, there was no reason why Zawadi should even know what was going on.

“One of us should still be on guard”, Anders said drawing in a harsh breath as he felt Ben’s hands snaking inside his boxers.

“Yeah definitely,” Ben agreed, though Anders would have bet their next hot meal that he had no idea what he was agreeing to.

His voice was breathy and high and there was a slight tremble in his hands. It really had been awhile since they were even a little intimate. Running for their lives with his little sister didn’t exactly put one in the mood. But now…their thirst for water was quenched and they’d even found some dates to eat. They’d had a bath and Anders for one was feeling clean and fresh.

And horny as fuck.

“Shit. Come here,” he said, pulling Ben to him.

The man came without a struggle, finding Anders’ lips effortlessly in the dark and sucking on his tongue like it was his favorite ice cream.

Chocolate chip.

Anders groaned deep in his throat, not sure if it was because of the thought of ice cream or the feel of Ben so close and immediate.

His for the taking.

Ben leaned toward him, pressing his erection into his abdomen and Anders decided that it was both.

“I need you,” Anders said quietly as his tongue traced the bulging vein along the hard length of Ben’s dick “Missed this taste, this smell, having this inside me.”

Ben groaned softly, thrusting against Anders’ mouth, seeking entry. Anders licked slowly, languidly. The night sky was bright, the moon providing enough light that he could see Ben’s face. See the vein throbbing at his temple, how flushed he looked.

Debauched.

Ben was like that. He fell right into the hole that was wanting and lust when the circumstances were right. Sometimes all it took was a look. A casual touch. Feather-light brush of his breath against Ben’s skin. It was heady power and Anders relished it. When they were around other people, Ben could do a great job ignoring him. But when they were alone...

“Fuck me,” he whispered and felt Ben’s full body shudder in reaction.

“Turn around,” Ben said, his voice still hoarse.

Anders hastened to comply. They had no lube, nothing to ease the way except spit and patience. But Anders didn’t care. It had been too long. He heard Ben sucking and then a wet finger was questing against his hole, rubbing at him slowly and painstakingly gentle.

Ben could go on like that forever.

Anders knew that for a fact.

He could be glacial when he wanted to be, playing with Anders’ body for hours, stroking him, caressing, tasting. He knew that he was driving Anders out of his mind when he did it but Ben didn’t seem to care.

He always appeared so unaffected too; like having his tongue inside of Anders’ asshole, making slow lazy circles as he went deeper and deeper had absolutely no effect on him.

It made Anders wonder sometimes.

Why did Ben do it?

But today wasn’t going to be one of those days.

Uh-uh.

No.

“Ben…no! Fuck me now,” he ordered in a voice that dared the other man to disobey.

“Yeah yeah,” Ben said in a low voice and suddenly something much larger than a finger was pressing against him.

Anders took a deep breath and relaxed, letting Ben in.

“So good” Ben murmured as he coaxed Anders’ flesh to yield to him.

Anders slumped down, supporting himself on his elbows, his mind whiting out with a combination of pain and pleasure. He pushed backward, aiding Ben’s mission to fill him up completely.

“Ah!” he groaned, almost shouting but remembering at the last minute that Zawadi was close. He bit off the sound, turning it into something that was between a moan and a click instead.

Ben’s gentleness was a paradox because the effect he had on Anders was devastating. It destroyed him every time. Every time they did this, it was too much. His heart was too full.

He surrendered all of himself when he was with Ben. He held nothing back. It scared him how vulnerable he was with this man. Yet this same man made him feel totally safe.

He would go mad one day trying to understand it.

Ben thrust in and out, breath keeping time with his hips. Anders found that he was breathing in sync with his boyfriend. Every time Ben hit that bundle of nerves they both gasped. Both their breaths hitched. Anders reached back, seeking Ben’s hand and found it waiting for him. Just as suddenly though, Ben’s thrusts became erratic, his breathing too. Rhythm was lost and they were no longer in sync. Ben kept right on hitting the spot though. Anders’s vision blurred as his fingers fisted in the sand. He pushed back, wanting something that stayed just out of reach, his whole body straining toward it.

“Fuuuuck!” he whispered as his body convulsed.

“Uh uh uh uh,” Ben was getting louder with every moan, as his body followed suit. For a moment, they were all alone in the desert night, lost in the wonder of ejaculation and release. Nothing on their minds but letting their orgasms consume them in mutual explosion.

“Are you okay?” Ben asked as he held Anders in his arms, still breathing hard.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked a little more snap in his voice than he should have been able to manage post-orgasm. Certainly, more than he intended.

Ben sighed, pulling away, “I’ll take first watch,” he said standing up.

Anders wanted to pull him back down. He wanted to apologize. But that’s not what they did.

“Okay,” he said.

Ben nodded curtly and walked off to a slight rise in the land. Anders lay down, watching him watch over them. It was a long time before he managed to sleep.

He was walking in a valley filled with corpses. At least, the bodies strewn about looked dead. Skin was peeling from their bones, flesh rotting as they seemed to stare blankly about with eyes that could or could not have been aware. He wasn’t sure... The…things looked around them like they were unsure how they got there or what they were supposed to do next. Suddenly he saw somebody he recognized.

Tall. Well built. Curly, black hair kept short. Dark, smooth, soft skin. Except now the skin was not so smooth. No, it was rotting off his strong frame, still dressed in his rugby uniform, Team Kenya emblazoned on the front.

“Nooo!” he screamed but no sound emerged from his mouth. He looked down at himself; and found that he too was a rotting husk. He opened his maw, screaming soundlessly as somebody called his name.

“Anders!” the sound was accompanied by a soft kick to his side and he startled awake. His sister was standing over him, her mouth pursed in irritation even as she called his name.

“It’s your turn to keep watch,” she said before stalking off to sleep. He rubbed at his eyes; heart still pounding in fear; his dream keeping hold of him. He shook himself and looked around for Ben, asleep beside him, and not a whiff of rotting flesh anywhere.

Anders knew it was stupid, but he still heaved a sigh of relief.

He stood up slowly and headed for the mound of sand that served as their lookout point. His feet dragged as tiredness and fear weighed him down.

“It was just a dream,” he told himself even as he knew it wasn’t. Not really. They might not have the literal Walking Dead taking over the earth but many had watched as their flesh rotted from their bones before they collapsed and died.

Why had they survived?

There was no rhyme or reason to it. First, there were countries going nuclear on each other, and then earthquakes and tsunamis. Then came Vordania Prime. Not one disaster, but many, devastating the earth. There was no escape and no one was unscathed. No time for research or explanations; just explosions, the earth gaping open like a hungry beast to swallow everything in its path, and everywhere, the grim reaper hacked a swathe through humanity. Who could find the reasons why?

If indeed there were answers to be given.

The key was to find a civilization organized enough to have the room to ask these questions.

Egypt for one.

Once they understood why maybe they could start again.

Rebuild.

Make the world new again.

Anders snorted to himself. Lofty ambitions indeed. Probably the best they could hope for was to live out the rest of their days in peace. Perhaps the afterlife contained the answers they sought. Anders wasn’t curious enough to find out.

Suddenly the world went black.