Angry Jasper: Forty-nine

They ran along old Michigan Avenue, slowed by Buzz who lagged behind on those stubby little legs. Scrambling over heaping mounds of debris and dodging falling stone Jazz was of a mind to leave the robot behind, but Kate wouldn't hear of it. When Jazz reminded her Buzz was an obsolete bucket of bolts and moldy wires she froze in her tracks and refused to budge. Jazz kicked at a stone and threw up his arms in frustration.

“Remind me again why I risked my ass to rescue you from your fiancé, the monster?”

“You tell me, Jazz.”

He knew what she was asking. “Not on your life!”

Plasma bolts blasted the broken cityscape, drawing nearer. Jazz ignored them, favor instant vaporization to the hell Kate was attempting to put him through.

“Say it, Jazz, or we all fry on this godforsaken street.”

“Oh, do me a favor, lord!”

A bolt of searing hot plasma whipped high overhead, cracking like a deafening whip. Kate stood her ground, refusing to flinch or move a muscle. But it wasn't the imminent threat of death that got him, but the murderously cold stare that broke him.

“I friggin love you, all right,” he said, literally going down on one knee (Because he knew she wouldn't accept any less.).

Kate cocked her head and gave a satisfied smile. “Now was that so hard?”

She'd barely finished the words when a fissure opened up beneath her feet. That satisfied smile turned to shook as the earth disappeared beneath her feet.. Jazz was already diving towards her, catching Katy, quite by accident, with both hands around the throat.
She held tight to his wrists, straining to breathe beneath his grip. Far below, where the ground dissolved and fell away the rebel lair opened up disgorging bodies and everything else into the widening abyss. Jazz ignored it, digging his toes into the dirt to keep from being dragged over the edge with Kate. At the last moment Skullboy and Buzz fell upon his legs and dragged him back from the chasm. Jazz strained and shouted and pulled Kate up. She pulled free of his grip and rubbed her neck.

“I think you actually enjoyed that,” she coughed.

Jazz stood and helped her stand. Tumbling into hell with my hands around your neck? It's been a fantasy of mine for years!”

the battled the shattering planet all the way down the avenue until at last they came to the dry river bed. Jazz spotted the ship, where it was half buried in the bank. It was dented in a few places and covered with dirt and debris, but thankfully none the worse for wear. The ship had been through some tough scrapes, a lot tougher than crashing into that bank. But things were about to get a lot tougher. Jazz was less worried about the ship than he was about his own ass, and the others too.

They had just reached the twisted wreckage of the Michigan Avenue Bridge when the ground suddenly pitched sharply skyward. Whole buildings dislodged from the earth and slid or tumbled towards the dry lake bed, now hundreds of feet below. The four of them clung desperately to a bridge support. It was all they could do to hold on.

Reaching the ship seemed all but impossible now. The rain of debris from above grew and grew until it all seemed utterly hopeless. Jazz could feel those precious final minutes pounding away in his chest. It was all he could do just hold on and keep from being pummeled and smashed like a grape as the city and the planet disintegrated around them.

The beam of energy was weakening now, but the damage to the planet was irreversible. The crust had shattered like an egg, and the planet might have survived if that was as far as things went. But the beam sliced a hole deep into the mantle until the molten core poured into the breach. It threw the planet out of balance, like a loaded pair of dice. The entire planet shuddered violently, but this time it wasn’t resistance to the beam but a death throe.

When the earth pitched upwards it had dislodged the ship from the riverbed. Jazz watched as it began to slide down the steep bank towards the bridge. Clear to the other side of the river, it was too damn far away for all of them to reach together. At the pace of their progress Jazz didn’t see much chance in reaching it before it slid away forever. What really got him was that the thing didn’t simply tumble away where it was gone forever. Instead it sort of teased him, bumping, catching and skidding along the slope of the bank.

“Ain’t gonna make it,” he told himself. He looked over at Katy. She had a hold of the kid and it was all she could do to hang on. Next to her, clinging tight to a support, the pudgy little robot was all but useless.

Angry Jasper: Twenty-three

As rounds chewed apart the walls earth around them Jazz pulled Kate down a side street. He kicked open an old wooden door as the battle cruiser blasted the street with its heavy cannons in stinging showers of earth and rock. Jazz shoved Kate through the door and followed as the cruiser hammered the building. The force of the blasts flung them against the far wall and splintered the door. Jazz landed up on top of her, which, given the circumstances, wasn’t a bad place to be.

“Care to explain all that?” he asked.

“All what?” she asked.

“Don’t play dumb.”

“At least for me it’s just playing,” she shot back. “Figure it out.”

“Trying,” he said. “I don’t like what I keep coming up with, though.”

A huge explosion rocked the street. Dust and bits of stone showered the pair. Kate hugged him closer. She somehow felt safer in his arms.

“I’d say we’ve got bigger problems than your dumb questions, Jazz.”

“Dumb?” He pushed the door back into place as best he could, then braced it with a couple of boulders. It wasn’t much, but at least they were out of the worst of the fighting for a time.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“I come to find some puke kid.”

“The money must be good.”

“Better than good. Maybe I can retire from bounty hunting.”

“I know you’d give your left nut to quit.”

“Once upon a time I had two, till you crushed ‘em.”

“Jazz, you have to admit we were no good for each other.”

“We were great together!” he protested.

“In the sack.”

“Right.”

“That ain’t enough.”

“What more do we need?”

“Sometimes, Jazz, you’re dumber than a rock.”

“And sometimes I’d like to smack the crap out of you.”

“Only if you want your ass kicked right back.”

Though he often threatened they’d only come to blows once before, except for that first night together. That other time Kate had pushed him just a bit too far and he'd slapped her hard enough to draw blood. She climbed back to her feet with a look that sent chills through Jazz. In a fit of what could only be described as animal rage, she damn near killed him. Not that he wasn’t bigger and stronger, but when Katy got into a fight she was a hell of a lot scarier.

“Don’t temp me, space tramp!”

“I’d love it, Peter Pan.”

They glared at one another until it came to a head, the way it always did.

“Your boobs looked awesome when I first saw you today.”

Outside the battle grew to a crescendo. More rebels poured into the fray. The drone of Corporation ships and explosions was deafening. Suddenly two rebel soldiers burst through the door. Katy shoved Jazz away and dispatched them with two well-aimed shots. Pushing what remained of the door closed again she turned to find that familiar look in his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re horny?”

“Want to?” he grinned like a dumb kid. An explosion leveled the building next door. In the street the battle had degraded into a bloody hand-to-hand scrap. The screams of dying men punctuated the clatter of gunfire and ARP rounds chewing up the rubble-strewn lane. Katy shook her head.

“Sure.”

“Really?” he asked, somewhat surprised.

“Just a quickie,” she replied. “I don’t want to die in the middle of an orgasm!”

“Can’t think of a better time to go,” he remarked, tugging off a boot.

She shimmied from her outfit. Jazz was quickly naked, sporting his right and ready manhood. He swaggered a bit and swung his hips at her a little, shaking his thing. She smiled and bit her lip demurely. Scratch that, she bit her lip hungrily, feeling as though she could devour him with her lust. He had changed quite a bit over the years. He had put on a pound or two(or twenty). There were more scars, and the hair grayed at his temples, but despite all that he still looked damn good to her.

Jazz took in her natural beauty for a moment, as though she was a juicy hunk of beef or a sticky hunk of pie to a starving man. How he would attack her, cover himself in her sweet juices, bury himself among her huge balloons and those milky-white thighs. He could already taste her, and licked his lips in anticipation. He’d hold those hips and drive his ship into her docking bay until they were both spent and quivering. He longed to be held by sturdy legs that could just about break a man’s hips in the throes of climax. If there was a hierarchy in the annals of sex then Kate was an admiral. Jazz rose to a full salute without using his hands! Aye, aye, admiral!

She didn’t mount him right away. Instead she teased a moment making him shudder and moan with anticipation. They found each other quite naturally, giving a mutual groan as she settled fully upon him. Funny how, when after months or years apart, that they always came together so perfectly. His hands went to her aching breasts, and they found that usual rhythm again. Kate groaned, pressing herself hard against him. She was in ecstasy and in awe. It just didn’t seem natural for a man to be this excited, but who was she to complain?

“Is that all you?” she gasped in amazement.

“Don’t know who you been doin’” he held those beautiful breasts, kneading their softness and heat. They were at a fever pace now.

“God, I missed you, Jazz.”

“Reckon you can tell how much I missed you, Kate.”

“Getting’ a hint,” she growled lustily.

Kate was just getting into the act, her sultry and unrestrained moans drowned in the sounds of street battle. But as the battle drew closer Jazz got distracted, just as she was getting close. Before long it was more than she could do alone.

“You could work a little too,” she complained.

“What?” He was losing his excitement. Kate frowned with disappointment.

“This could be our last time…”

He pursed his lips and cut her off quickly. “When were you gonna tell me you were with the rebellion?”

“And have you get hammered in some Martian bar and blab it all over the place? Now could you concentrate on the task at hand?”

To hell with it, he thought. He wasn’t about to let something as trivial as the rebellion, or something that sounded like Armageddon outside ruin a great piece of ass. He recovered and returned to her just as strong as ever. Katy couldn’t have been happier and responded in kind, whooping and hollering with pleasure...

THE LAST MAN: Part Twenty-one

I stand and stretch with a groan. After a piss I look out across the city. The hazy orange sun is glorious and warm. The ruins are lost to the sun’s bright reflection upon the mirror-like sea. The city looks clean and full. Business is brisk, the streets choked with traffic.

“What is your fertility rank?” I ask without looking at her. Desiree’s reflection is vaguely superimposed over the city. The fires burning among the ruins are clearer than I can ever recall.

“I’m viable,” she cocks her head. “Why do you ask?”

I don’t answer right off. Without a word I grab one of the chairs, walk calming across the room and smash the Sentinel by the door. Desiree screams, startled. She covers herself with the sheet and looks at me as if I have gone stark raving mad. Truth be told, I’m not so sure I haven’t.

“What are you doing?” she cries. A body can be Reclaimed for much less. I doubt we will for this, at least not before the trial ends. I have gotten away with so much already. I figure they will repair it soon enough. Kneeling at the bed I take her trembling hands in mine.

“What if you become pregnant?”

“I don’t know.”

“What if it looks like me? Would you be ashamed? Disgusted?”

She thinks a moment. “I don’t know.”

“I’d want it to have a chance.”

“You’re crazy to believe that, you know?”

“If there was some place, somewhere far from Sentinel and the Corporation?”

“No such place exists,” she scoffs.

“If there was?”

“It doesn’t!”

“Can’t you answer the question?” I shake her, growing impatient.

“It’s a ridiculous.”

“Just yes or no?”

“To what?”

I groan loudly and flail with frustration. She really is just impossible. I turn and have a mind to fling the chair across the room. Then she smiles, though it is tinged with spite. She toys with me, which only enrages me more.

“What?” I demand.

“Your temper,” she replies.

“You provoke it,” I laugh. It is impossible to remain mad at her for very long. “I hate you.”

Desiree’s expression softens. Her eyes flash quickly to the shattered Sentinel. Wisps of white smoke trail from the tattered innards.

“Where would we go?”
I pull her quickly from bed and guide her to the window. I lean against her and press a finger to the window. She studies the distant ruins for a time, and her brow furls slightly. She has not noticed them before.

“There?” she asks, perplexed.

“There.”

“The ruins?”

“Things are different there!” My voice rises with emotion.

“Like how?”

“Free,” I say.

“And how do you know that?” she asks, trapping me. I draw away and right the upturned chair. With a wounded sigh I sit.

“Anyway, that’s what I believe.”

“Don’t be a fool!” she laughs. The words crush me. I would die to be anything but a fool in her eyes. I fall into bed, staring at the wall. My chest tightens as tears come to my eyes. It seems an eternity before she comes to me. I refuse to look at her, but she knows only too well the feeble nature of that gesture.

“Don’t be mad,” she says.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“So what if I am?”

She moves onto the bed beside me, nudging me with her hips, and running her hand gently across my back and shoulder. I pull away. Not much, but I so want to punish her for being so cruel. She is first to bridge the chasm, and kisses my shoulder.

“You’re not a fool.”

I turn and melt in her eyes. My fingers brush her soft breast and the rubbery dark nipple. With a shudder Desiree pulls me to her chest.

“They had dreams,” I say, staring past her. There are still tears in my eyes, but not for her comments, but now from a sudden upwelling of passion. It is something pure and clean and not of this world; something that transcends the body. “Things were not always as they are now.”

She does not reply. Instead she nods un-committed and strokes my chest. After all, what was there to say? How does one talk about the past to people who have no history? It is why Section Twenty-one and the Corporation have no fear of me. I am trapped within a truth. I could shout them to the masses in hopes of starting a revolt, but they would prove little more than the ramblings of a madman.

“I wish I could believe like you,” she says to be kind.

“Do you?”

She rises and walks to the window again. I marvel at her waist, the alternating tension and relaxation of the muscles of her back and shoulders, and of the rise and fall of her buttocks when she moves. Desiree remains silhouetted at the window for some time. I can see her face reflected there, and know that it is only a half-hearted gesture.

“I see it,” she says, “the fires. People are moving, though I cannot make out any details. Are they men or women? Maybe there are more like you.”

She turns. I sit, unsure for moment if she is still mocking me. Then I can see that she doesn’t really believe, but that she believes in me.

“I don’t know,” I tell her, “but in when the light is just right I believe that I can actually see them. Sometimes I close my eyes and can almost feel their hands touching me, welcoming me.”

“Hands?”

“Maybe I’ll go there. Maybe I’ll escape and bring you with me.”

She returns to me, and falls into my arms. I kiss her smooth belly and look up between her breasts. I have no idea if she believes anything I have said. I have no evidence, no concrete reason for believing as I do. It is hope and I am bleeding it all over her.