Objects of Wrath by Sean T. Smith

Author:Sean T. Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: apocalypse, doomsday, survivors, armageddon, postapocalyptic, dystopian, fungus, the fall, world war 3, preppers, cordyceps, objects of wrath, sean smith, wrath trilogy
Publisher: Permuted Press

3

With Thanksgiving fast approaching, the weather was gray, wet, and cold. November was a dreary purgatory of a month. My body healed quickly as the temperature dropped and I tried to think of a way to approach Crystal again.

My relative lack of experience with women did not have any correlation to my actual interest in women. I had fantasized and obsessed about Angela for years. I had seen a future in my mind's eye that found her returning my youthful passions and saw us living happily together and raising a family. I would walk into the door of our home, the kids would jump with glee at my presence, and then she would take me into our bedroom and....well, it went something like that.

In between those thoughts I had fervently lusted after various women who lived in and around Magnolia. The hog farmer in Cumberland Heights had a daughter named Lola who seemed to wear nothing but cutoff jeans and bikini tops; we had gone skinny dipping in the creek on the outskirts of their farm. She was big breasted, tan, sensual, and incredibly stupid. I had gotten to know her casually on frequent patrols down her way and she had inflamed and captivated me in a purely physical way that I did not try to understand. We had sneaked away on a few sweaty afternoons and frolicked together. She was sexy, but so overtly manipulative that, despite myself, I quit seeing her.

Through it all, Angela had been a constant. She was not only my friend, but also my unrequited love. She was always a little older, a little wiser and tantalizingly just out of my reach. She flirted with me and enjoyed my loyalty and affection, but despite my best fumbling efforts, she had made it abundantly clear that we were friends, nothing more.

For the first time since I had met Angela, she was no longer the girl that I dreamed about. There was a slow change in me then, a transformation into real adulthood and maturity I did not recognize at the time.

I had seen Angela only from a distance since I had yelled at her and made a fool of myself. I knew that I owed her an apology, but I dreaded it.

My thoughts were continually drawn to Crystal. I felt let down after she stood me up and I tried to focus on other things. I exercised vigorously, doing push-ups and pull ups, lifting weights with some of the other men in the mornings. I met with the Colonel and Gunny at least once a day to discuss what needed to be done. I felt a curious sense of detachment from life, like I was going through the motions even though I remained engaged and busy on the surface.

I finally worked up the nerve to talk to Crystal again on the morning of the first snowfall. I caught her on her way to her tiny wooden classroom.

“Hello stranger,” I said as I stepped from behind the maple tree.

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