This is a continuation:Postapocalyptic reality 1http://xhamster.com/stories/postapocalyptic-reality-1-640119Postapocalyptic reality 2http://xhamster.com/stories/postapocalyptic-reality-2-652696Postapocalyptic reality 3http://xhamster.com/stories/postapocalyptic-reality-3-664235Postapocalyptic reality 4https://xhamster.com/stories/postapocalyptic-reality-4-702206there is no sex in chapter this one, but it moves the plot forward a little...
Jenny woke up next morning, feeling fresh and alert, if not a little achy. She had several deep scratches on her belly, waist, and thighs, and made a mental note to keep her jerkin on the next time she decided to get raunchy with the dogs. She was also cold and hungry and ready for a good breakfast so helped herself to another serving of the stew after relighting the stove and warming it up. It was a good stew – one of the best she had ever made, and she had made rather a lot of it. It would probably last a few days, and more likely to spoil before it's all eaten. Though the meat is game, the vegetables don’t keep as well, and even Radstag stew will be pretty much inedible after a couple of days.
She wasn't sure if dogs ate stew, but she felt it was no loss to her to share it with her new family, so ladled a little into a spare dish for Alfred. Apparently – though primarily carnivores – wasteland dogs are not too fussy about what they eat, and even cooked meats with vegetables are an acceptable meal.
It was a cold and foggy morning, so Jenny spent a couple of hours making sure she had plenty of firewood, and relit the hearth fire. Even dressed she was still chilly, and decided to retrieve some of her belongings from the old place. There was a lot that she needed – warmer clothes, her blanket, her rifle, and maybe she should bring up some of her ammo and a few caps. There was far too much to move in one go, but she felt confident it was well hidden enough, and had one or two other hidden stashes just in case.
“Never put all your caps in one bag.” her Mother had said. It was an old saying. No matter how well you hid your stash, there was always a risk that it could get discovered – or the place you hid it becomes inaccessible. She remembered once she had hidden a damn good sniper rifle and a radiation detector along with 300 caps in a fridge behind a car under a flyover that was taken over by a squad of Gunners whilst she was away for a month. It may well be still hidden there – but she couldn't even get close to it.
Apart from the small stash she had found there, all she had at her new home was what she had carried, which though a little more than usual, was still not enough to set up a really good home base. She had been taught how to knit and sew, and could make herself a new blanket if she had the materials, but she didn't, so that was the end of that.
She needed to travel light so left most of her equipment and provisions at the cellar, setting up a booby trap under the hatch before setting off with the dogs. Alfred walked bt her side, with the rest of the pack about ten paces behind and to the side. Anybody encountering the group would see Jenny and Alfred, and maybe spot one of the hounds at the rear.. whether by instinct, or taught by Alfred, the pack were masterful at strategy.
Though travelling back to her old lair didn't take as long as it had taken coming from there (because she knew exactly where she was heading and the best way to get there), it was still past midday when she got there. The fog had been more of an advantage than a disadvantage – there was less danger of encounters so they arrived without a single incident or distraction. She had already decided on the way what she was going to bring – her prized blanket, winter clothing, her .308 rifle, a laser rifle, half her fusion cells, 300 rounds of .308, 500 caps, and her sleeping bag. She put on some of her winter clothes so there would be less to carry, and though it restricted her movement a little, she gambled on not needing to do any sprinting and dodging.
She remembered that amongst her stock were three harnesses designed for dogs that she was planning to sell to Gunther the dog vender when he passed through again, but instead decided to use them herself. Gunther knew a lot about training and handling dogs, and it was pretty common knowledge that one of the “tricks of the trade” of dog handlers is that they will often masturbate their dogs to calm and control them when they get a little too energetic. It was no secret really, as it was one of things he told folk when he sometimes gave dog handling classes to his customers for a few extra caps. Many folk thought that was a little too much information, but he shrugged it off. “Ain't no big deal – no different from milking a brahvin.” he would say.
Jenny was one of the few women he had slept with. Most women avoided him – partly because of the dog wanking thing, partly coz he smelled of dogs all the time, and partly because of the company he tended to keep. Gunther sold dogs to literally anyone who would buy them – in fact Raiders were amongst his biggest customers. Jenny felt she was in no position to judge him over the dog masturbation deal so had no qualms there.
She fastened small pouches to the harnesses so three of the dogs could carry her ammo and caps, leaving her to carry the rifles and the big back-pack holding her blanket and those extra clothes she wasn't wearing, and hung the sleeping bag rolled up fastened to the bottom of the pack.
She hadn't taken everything, but she had her most important belongings, so despite the fact it was already late in the afternoon, she set off back her new home. She had to be careful now, because the fog had lifted and she was less stealthy now she was carrying so much stuff.
Two miles out and the sun was already setting. At least she would be less likely to run into Raiders or Gunners at night, but there were other dangers. Wild dogs and Mole rats were known to hunt at night, and the darkness would make no difference to rogue robots. Also – in the dark she would be less likely to spot a Deathclaw until it was too late. But worst of all, Feral ghouls were more active at night, and were deceptively fast. Fortunately, Ghouls tend to lurk in cities and around railways, and are rarely seen in the countryside. As long as she stayed clear of buildings, she should be safe.
But then the unlikely happened. Walking by the side of the road, she almost ran straight into a group of Raiders. They must have been on the way back to their lair after a raid, because they were also carrying heavy burdens, and she would have walked right into them had Alfred not suddenly stopped and started growling. Jenny instinctively hit the ground and crouched behind a rusted wreck of a car, but the Raiders had heard them.
“What the fuck was that?” questioned a female voice.
Someone shone a torchlight at her – one of them was wearing an old miners helmet. A bullet zinged past her ear and another pinged off the body of the car. Crouching low, she drew her pistol and shot back. There was another crack and a piece of metal flew off the car. One had a shotgun, and an auto-mobile is not the wisest cover – if sparks ignited the coolant, the vehicle might explode, killing her instantly. She tried to scamper back a bit, and looked around for better cover. Just in time she spotted someone trying to sneak up on her from a rocky ridge above her position. She fired and hit him in the face with a lucky shot.
Jenny pulled back just as the car caught alight, and quickly darted across the road, unfortunately well lit by the flames and fully visible, but was able to leap over the barrier and down an incline before anyone could get a bead on her. Though she was now at a disadvantage as they were on the higher ground, and she couldn't see where they were. A head appeared over the rail and someone was firing at her – but he had made a stupid mistake as the car suddenly exploded, ripping him apart with shrapnel.
“What the fuck?” someone yelled and fired several shots from a pistol. There was a growl, and Jenny guessed that at least one of the dogs had now engaged with the Raiders. She took advantage of the distraction and did what they probably least expected – made her way in their direction. She heard barking and then whimpering as a woman's voice yelled “Argh! Get the fuck off me!”
Jenny sneaked up as quietly as she could towards the sound of the struggle, until she came to another barrier. They must have been gathered at an intersection. She carefully crawled up the steep incline keeping close to the barrier until she could see the struggle. Putting away her pistol, she pulled out her rifle with the night vision scope and took aim before blowing apart the skull of the woman who was currently trying to fend off one of the dogs with a bayoneted pipe rifle. She took a quick look around her to take in the scene. One Raider was lying in pieces where the car had exploded, the woman was sitting in a growing pool of blood, the top of her head blasted open like a water melon, and she could see a shotgun lying on the ground a few yards away from a screaming shadowy shape. As she cautiously approached, glancing about for any movement, she could see the owner of the shotgun lying on his back, his legs kicking aimlessly whilst three dogs (one of them Alfred) were tearing him apart. He briefly managed to get to his feet, but Jenny raised her rifle and finished him with a single bullet.
Jenny climbed the rocky rise to check on the man she had shot in the face to find one of the dogs already feasting on his still warm flesh. After a thorough search of the area, she was confident that they had taken care of all of the Raider party. As she watched, a chill ran down her spine as it sunk in that these dogs were still basically wild a****ls – dangerous man-eating carnivores, but was then comforted to realise they were her man-eating carnivores. It was also clear by the trail of caps that during the encounter the dogs carrying her caps had lost their load, and there was no chance of recovering them all in the darkness.
She stripped the bodies of their clothing and let the dogs eat their fill of the corpses whilst she salvaged what she could from their equipment. The haul included the shotgun, a 10mm pistol, three pipe pistols, two pipe rifles, three grenades, and an assortment of leathers, armour, and boots. There was also a good supply of food and twice as many caps as she had lost. Not a lot of ammo though, and that along with the abundance of caps and a couple of bandaged wounds on the corpses confirmed that they had been on their way back from a raid. There was way too much for her to carry, so she looked around for a good hiding place, which was no easy task seeing as the only light available was the flickering flames from the exploded car. She didn’t go near that for fear of radiation from it's reactor, but there was a suitcase in a wrecked bus nearby, so she put what she could in that and hid it behind a bush at the bottom of the rocky outcrop.
After the dogs had finished eating, she refilled their pouches with ammo and caps, noting that the dogs were all quite bloodied, but one appeared injured. When she cleaned the dogs with fresh water and found one did in fact have a bullet wound, she cleaned the wound as best she could with some antiseptic (a well seasoned Scavver always carries a First Aid kit) and patched together a bandage made from one of the shirts she had liberated from the Raider party.
Tomorrow, she would try to retrieve the loot from its hiding place.