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In the process of moving my roster of stories from one pen name to another, (Larkin to Chance) I must change the title so as not to conflict with the old title. This gives me an opportunity to restructure, change names and generally tighten up the story. For those who missed it the first time, it's a good story. Originally published 2 years ago in the Sifi and fantasy forum, under the title of “Kids at the end of the World” and since I consider it more of a teenage romance I am re-posting it under (High School - stories involving High School-aged Students) forum. Let me know your thoughts.

Please send comments to larkin@tutanota.com...And I will respond

Max, Newt and Raif

by Chance

Part 4

The Scavengers

Raif was waxing poetic when he went on. "It must be love when you love someone so much that you love their spit and their snot and everything about them. How can it not be love?

Newt had no idea what the word love meant, but he reached up and hugged the older boy.

All three were naked and all three were erect. The concept of jealousy was absent. The things that Max needed from Newt were different than what he needed from Raif. Newt was secure in that he knew that they both protected and watched over him. Raif felt a part of a family again and it soothed his depression. The union had its own equilibrium that was secure and balanced.

Max was baring down on Newt's back and behind. He was penetrating and preparing for an all out fuck. For Newt it was more than just being used to Max's cock, he trusted Max completely.

Newt's understanding of lust was acute beyond his years and he had always told Max, "You can do anything you want to me,..anything."

Raif preferred not to penetrate anyone. It wasn't his style. He would either kiss Newt or let him suck his cock while Max set upon him from behind. Newt didn't care just as long as he was an object of attention and adoration.

Between the three, their congress could get chaotic and reckless and then dissolve into gentle tenderness. Between them, they had liquid synchronicity. It was something rare in this broken world.

To spill cum on the bare mattress or the floor was a sin because after all, it was sustenance. It was a gift from one to another. Cum was food never to be wasted.

Max was huffing and grunting, delivering his gift up inside of Newt's hole. Raif let go at the same time into Newt's mouth.... It was both beautiful and it was perfect.

 

The Markets

By mid-summer, everything had turned warn, lush and green. Vines and grass hid the half burned houses and the vegetation had even begun to creep into the streets obscuring them into a puzzle. The vines climbed old utility poles, obscuring and disguising the past. Old women were the only ones to have any common sense and were out collecting greens to dry for the winter. It was as though the end of the world had finally come and sometimes, things weren't so bad after all.

Raif's nature was basically melancholy but with Max and Newt coming to live in his small room, he had undergone a transformation. He had grown to love both of them. They brought out his feminine side and Newt and Max not only accepted it, they needed it. They wanted it and gave purpose to Raif's life. Times had been so cruel and unforgiving that living together was a paradise in comparison. The mattresses had been pushed together and they all slept as one naked and intertwined.

Raif dreamed about his lost family and mourned in his sleep.

Max dreamed about running away and even in his sleep his legs jerked and moved like a sleeping dog on a rug.

With hardly a past, Newt didn't dream about anything. He was content just to be surrounded by Max and Raif.

 

Thieves and Outlaws

During the day they were scavengers. They searched empty houses, and wrecked cars. They lifted up things to look underneath for missed placed treasures. They pried open containers and sorted through piles of junk. Looking, looking, always looking for something of value. The something they looked for was something that they could take to one of the Vengeance markets to trade for food. During their searches they always were cautious of adversaries. Encounters might cause them to scatter only to reconnect when the danger had passed.

Being killed was a real and daily possibility or worse, being captured and tortured was an ever present dread. Occasionally People got shot, but being stabbed, cut up with a machete or being strangled or clubbed to death was much more common. Mostly, corpses lay where they died and the memory of their existence combined with the stink of a rotting corpse caused the image of the person to fade as if they had never been alive. Soon swarms of flies causes you to blot the memory out who they were or why they died and suddenly you begin to realize the virtue of a burial. It was a rare example of cooperation because it would get so bad that groups would gather to take the corpses over the hill. It was an awful task avoided by most.

 

The Public Food Distribution Center had closed a while back and now everyone was on their own. There was talk about it re-opening during the winter but no one could be sure. Most people had no idea of what mutual survival and cooperation meant. Thievery was how everyone lived. One old man had shown someone how to find mushrooms and edible wild things and once the word got out, the woods were stripped until nothing was left. The world was changing. Nowadays if a trader was asked by a person, "Where'd you find this, he was met with shrugged shoulders and vacant silence.

The spontaneous gatherings and markets that began to appear here and there usually on an intersection of foot traffic. The markets were pulled into the Vengeance network to be taxed and controlled. Vengeance justified their presence by providing security in the form of thugs who minded the flea market stalls and reported any exceptional occurrences to Vengeance headquarters.

A proud man stood guarding his table of skinned and gutted squirrels, possums and raccoons. He told Newt that the raccoons were really kitty cats. Newt looked at the skinless head with foggy eyes staring lifelessly.

More often than not the three boys got food by providing services and doing chores.The Man and his wife stood in front of a large pot boiling eggs. They needed more wood for the fire. So did the woman across the way who made a thick soup of forest greens.

The boys pulled boards off of houses that were too far gone to provide shelter. Then lay the board between the ground and something higher and then jump on it to break it into manageable sizes.

The trading markets were organized by the Mothers. They were a handful of old women that when all looked black, they would shrug it off and get busy doing something useful. Most commonly buy setting up stew pots.

The soup was never used up so the fire could never go out and everyday new greens or yesterday's meat, bones and all went into the soup. The Soup Mother was stingy and drove a hard bargain.

She'd say, "Well what'd ya got? Nothin? Well come back when ya got sumthin."

but she never let a child go hungry. Newt had become a favorite. She was a big woman that most men would be hard-pressed to tangle with.

She smoked weeds in a hand-made pipe. "Why don't you boys let me take Newt off your hands? You got no business taking care of a child. You got your ownselfs to look after. If there is anything I know, it's raisin children. I raised five of em, sept, world bein what it is, they're all dead now."

Raif thought silently to himself, "No fuckin way."

He put his hand on Newt and pulled him along to the next table.

A serious man sat at a bare table. The only thing on it was a paper sign that said, "Meds"

He had no time for the three boys. "If you got someone that needs em, I'll make sure they get delivered. If you don't then fuck off!"

Raif knew something about what he was selling but the other two didn't. He wasn't selling getting high type drugs but he was selling medicine for diseases or infections. It was a high priced and serious business that made any pills or prescriptions very valuable trade items.

He looked at the three boys. "You find any medicine's, pills or alcohol, You bring'em to me and I'll be sure to pay you good."

What took skill in the market was knowing what this person wanted and what that person wanted and earning something in the middle. Being clever was not only survival it was a virtue. Because of this, most of the trading didn't take place on the tables or out in the open. It took place between pockets and negotiated in whispers, gold and silver transactions, contracts for use of assets, transportation or services and even kidnapping and murder.

Many people were just on the road looking for a place to survive, but others carried out these endeavors by traveling from one market to another always looking for opportunity or advantage.

Cranky and erasable it was the mother's that kept things together. When gangs of men swept through vandalizing and killing, It was the old mothers that stoically began to put things back together and start again.

 

The Stalker

The traveler had found a shady spot under a tree up against an abandon house. It was in full view of the Market and allowed him leisure while he watched the comings and goings of travelers, vendors and people of all sorts. He saw the old woman serving soup and arguing with someone else. He saw hagglers and beggars. He saw the idle guards taking in the sun. The man had lots of time to size-up his new surroundings.

He saw the three boys and momentarily thought of the boy he had taken into the woods. The memory of what he had done warmed and pleased him. Suddenly he sat up and narrowed his eyes. He realize he knew one of the boys, He knew the small one. It was Newt! His first impulse was to go claim his property, after all that fucker had stolen him away. He swore after them when they were running away that he would kill the kid when he caught him. He vowed to track them down and now that he saw Max. The idea took root.

The man thought to himself, "I've almost got em, don't fuck it up!"

Eventually, Raif, Max and Newt left the market and the man followed, stealth fully and unobserved. Down ruined suburban streets with overgrown yards and collapsing houses he pursued the three staying just out of sight. They stopped in front of one house, conferred with each other and then the oldest one went off in another direction leaving just Max and Newt. They turned and went round back and into the house.

The man stood looking into the open back wall of the house. It was filled with wreckage and debris but he could see a narrow path that led to the stairway. He could hear the two boys upstairs and cautiously began to climb stopping every so often to listen. He could deal with the two especially if one was Newt. but he wanted to make sure that there weren't any more.

He tried the door. They had forgotten to lock it and it swung open.

To be continued

Please send comments to larkin@tutanota.com...And I will respond