It was getting hot, there, as David crouched holding the girl in the big asphalt circle at the end of the street. He thought about retreating into the cleared area behind him, in the cul-de-sac, but there was enough dry, dug-up brush scattered around it that he didn't feel sure the fire couldn't spread into it. The sun was down, now, and in the absence of electricity, they would have been in total darkness in the moonless night if it hadn't been for the eerie light of the fires. He was afraid to go back up the street, as the narrow asphalt strip gave less room between the flames on both sides than he had in the circle, but he thought he might be forced to make a run for it later. It would sure be better if she could run on her own. In the wavery light he examined the chains holding her closely for the first time. The handcuffs were fastened tightly, with no chain between them, just two thick interlinked metal rings allowing the cuffs to twist independently, but not allowing her to get her wrists more than a half-inch apart. The ankle-shackles were particularly daunting, metal strips at least an inch wide circling each ankle, held together by a strong hinge, with a locking mechanism too well-hidden within the metal for him even to find, let alone release. The chain running between the shackles and handcuffs was attached by padlocks at either end. He wished he could at least get the gag out. The chain got in the way of putting his finger down it to check how long it was. He tried for several minutes to somehow tease it out of her mouth, but it was held too tightly. "Have you done this kind of thing before? Are you familiar with these particular cuffs and things?" She nodded her head, coughing slightly. "Well, is there some kind of trick release I'm missing? Maybe you could get out of them without keys?" She closed her eyes as the tears started again, and shook her head, afterwards coughing again at greater length. Oh, God, he thought, the smoke. And she can't even close her mouth! If I don't get her out of here, she's going to die of smoke inhalation. He looked up the street once more. He couldn't run that gauntlet of flame, not carrying her. He looked down at the only possession either of them had: his boxer shorts. Bingo, he thought, but it still took some nerve to take them off in front of her. Only fair, he decided. We might as well both be naked. He slipped them down his legs, trying to hide the erection that, despite his fear, he couldn't seem to get rid of as he looked at her. It wasn't, strictly speaking, necessary to slip them over her head, but he decided he'd feel a little better, and she'd feel a little safer, if she couldn't see how turned-on he was getting. She seemed to panic a little as he pulled the shorts down over her eyes, but he reassured her, "Shh, it's okay, you need to breath through this so you won't choke on the smoke. Hold still and I'll hold it in place for you." She subsided, and he pressed the fabric against the hole in the gag, and let it cover her nose a little more loosely, keeping it in place with his hand across her forehead. They were both sweating freely as the heat built up. He kept thinking how much he wished the bomb had gotten him in the first place, rather than going out this way. His heart was pounding, and the only thing that kept him calm was the thought that he needed to seem brave in front of her. She leaned against him, whimpering with fear, unable now to see whether she was about to be engulfed in flames. The smoke was getting to him now, and he put his head next to hers inside the shorts, filtering his own air through the fabric. It must have been at least an hour later that he chanced a look at the world beyond his shorts. At the far end of the street the flames seemed to be dying down, a phenomenon that gradually spread down the street towards them. He allowed himself to think for the first time that they might manage to get through this. In another hour the fire had more or less burnt itself out, at least as far as their immediate surroundings were concerned. He couldn't tell from where they were, but he assumed it had gone looking for greener pastures. The light was quickly dying, to be replaced by a blackness deeper than any he had ever seen in a lifetime of city living. They'd have to wait until morning to start finding what they needed to stay alive. He gently lowered her to the asphalt to lay on her side, and then he lay down in front of her, drawn to her not by sexual feelings now but wanting to stay close to the only other person in his entire universe. He put his arms around her and felt her breasts pressing against his chest. When he put his knee between her legs he thought she might object, but she snuggled closer to him, and raised her head off the ground to rest it on top of his. Exhausted, he mumbled, "G'night, whatever your name is," and she responded, "Mmm-hmm." Sleep evaded him for a time, but he inevitably found a way to catch up with it. He awoke not remembering for a moment where he was, and his surroundings weren't a big help: there was nothing that looked remotely familiar to help him get his mind in gear. He thought at first he was locked in an embrace with his ex-girlfriend Lisa, but a look down both their smoke-darkened bodies reminded him finally of what had happened yesterday. The sky itself seemed heavily cloudy, but it may have been smoke. With the lack of sunlight it was a little cooler than yesterday, but still comfortable. He gently untangled himself from her as she began to stir, standing up and retrieving his shorts, lying next to her head. He felt tremendously thirsty, and could only imagine how much more intense the feeling must be for her, after breathing through her open mouth for the last twelve hours or so. She tried to stretch her muscles and started struggling against the cuffs and chains, probably as disoriented as he had been. She stopped suddenly, remembering, and looked up at him. "Morning, Sunshine. We made it through." She nodded, and her lips seemed to approximate a smile around her gag. "I need to see if I can find us some water. Do you know this neighborhood very well?" She looked around a little, and finally shook her head. "I don't suppose you know which ones of these homes have pools, do you?" That was the best bet, he figured. He had doubts that any of these burnt-out shells would still have working plumbing. She shrugged. "Would you be okay if I left you for a little while to look around?" A look of alarm grew on her face, and she shook her head vehemently, wiggling along the ground now to get closer to him, making scared noises. He sat next to her, stroking her shoulder. "No, you'll be okay, really. There's nobody around here to hurt you." She was still shaking her head. "Are you afraid I won't come back?" She stared him full in the face for several heartbeats, and finally gave him a tiny nod. He picked her up and held her close to him. "I'm not about to leave you. I haven't gone through all this just to leave you lying in the middle of the street." She was crying again, and a way to reassure her of his intention to keep track of her occurred to him. He bent his head and kissed her breast, darkened with soot like the rest of her (and him, for that matter), then took the nipple in his mouth and started gently sucking. Her breath caught in surprise, but she didn't try to pull away. Her eyes closed, and the sucking seemed to calm her. After a view minutes, he stopped, and she opened her eyes to find he was looking at her. He said quietly, "You know I don't plan to leave you, don't you?" She gave him a tiny smile and nodded. "I won't be gone very long. We both need water. As soon as I find some I'll come back and get you. Okay?" After a few seconds she nodded, finally. He let her back down to the street. As he patted her and started to walk away, it occurred to him she'd probably be a lot more comfortable on the plowed-up dirt in the vacant lot behind them than on the asphalt. The fire hadn't managed to find enough fuel in the clearing, and the area looked pretty much untouched. He picked her up and carried her to a particularly soft-looking mound of overturned earth, not too far from the edge of the plot overlooking the ravine. She wiggled to form a depression in it to cradle her comfortably. As he backed away from her, saying, "It'll probably take me ten minutes, at the most," she smiled and raised her hands slightly to give a little good-bye sign from behind her back. Even through his boxer shorts, she must have been able to tell he had an erection. She didn't seem to mind. He walked quickly up the street, looking back frequently, glancing into each yard as he passed for some sign of water. The second house around the corner on the left had a pool. He nearly missed it: the surface was completely calm, and darkened to the same hue as its surroundings, but a tiny glint from a stray reflection managed to catch his eye. Picking his way through the yard, he decided he really didn't care much for the look of it, but it would have to do. The thin layer of dust on top wouldn't be too tasty and was presumably radioactive, as if anything else around here wasn't, but he was in no position to be too particular. He started back towards her, and was startled to hear the sound of an engine. Instinctively he ducked down behind the remains of a wall of the house, now about three feet high. A floater came into sight, its top down, the driver with an arm draped casually along the top of the door. He stopped a couple of times and stood surveying the landscape, appearing to be trying to get his bearings in a neighborhood stripped of any familiar landmarks. David crouched indecisively, not sure whether to call attention to himself. He didn't really care for the look of this guy. The long hair, the sleeveless muscle-shirt, the weed-stick hanging loosely from his lips. David could hear one of the latest sex-music hits coming from the floater's speakers, probably a disk; he doubted there were any radio stations broadcasting. The rear bumper of the floater sported a bumper sticker, "Born to PARTY!" David's heart jumped into his throat as the floater turned the corner and headed down the cul-de-sac. Their street. Maybe he wouldn't see her. He'd back out of it as soon as he saw it was a dead-end. The floater slowed as the end of the street came into the driver's sight. He stopped and stood once more, surveying the horizon. Shrugging, he sat and started forward again, towards the turn-around at the end. David could see the girl on her mound, not able to get out of sight, probably not knowing whether she should or not. The floater reached the end, and swung into a wide turn. Halfway through, the driver did a double-take. He'd spotted her. David looked around himself frantically. A pole, about twelve feet long, undamaged, lay next to the pool. It'd be awkward to carry, but it might be the best he could do. He retrieved the pole and looked to see what the driver was doing. He had gotten out of the floater, and covered about half the distance to the girl. He stopped at that point to look around, possibly suspecting some sort of trap. David kept low, starting towards the end of the street after the guy returned his attention to the girl. He was standing over her now, laughing, talking to her. David could only imagine the conversation, but the girl was shaking her head and trying to back away from him. As David drew closer, the other let down his pants. David was about twenty feet away by now, and knew there'd never be a better opportunity. The guy heard David's final rush and turned quickly --- too quickly, and he fell in a heap, his feet tangled in his trousers, managing thereby accidently to avoid the pole as it came whipping through about eye-level. He rolled to the side quickly, and David tried to gather himself for another rush. It was tricky getting the pole back under control, and meanwhile the other was hurriedly pulling his pants up. David swung as his opponent was rising, catching him just below the shoulder and knocking him back down again as the pole broke in the middle. David quickly reached down to pull the loose piece out of the way, before it could be used against him. The edge of the ravine was now just to his left, and he tossed the broken piece over the edge. The other was rising again, staying warily back from the now-jagged stick David was thrusting towards him. Suddenly he reached for it and took hold of the far end, pushing it towards David. David, expecting a pull, fell backwards and landed heavily on his side just a foot from the edge. As the other rushed him, David put his arm out along the ground just before the man landed on top of him. Wrapping his arm around the other then, he rolled to his left and forced the man beyond the edge. About a fifty-foot drop. For at least a minute David continued looking over the edge. He hadn't wanted to kill him; there'd been enough death already. And he'd wanted those clothes. A grunting behind him caught his attention finally. The girl was squirming across the dirt towards him. He quickly reached over to scoop her up and take her in his arms. She nuzzled against his neck with her hair, and gently pecked his cheek with the front end of the gag, the closest she could come to a kiss. "Come on, let's go get a drink." He put his hand between her thighs and stood up wearily, holding her upright as before, her crotch resting on his forearm. "At least we don't have to walk. Unless the keys went over with him." No, there were the keys, still in the ignition of the floater. He put her down on her side across the back seat and got in to drive. Not a long drive, just up the street and around the corner, to the house with the pool. He carried her to the edge and set her down, wondering as to the best way to get her a drink. It's amazing, he thought to himself. She's a baby trapped in an adult's body. She's as naked, as helpless, and nearly as un-communicative as a newborn, but with an adult's store of memories, and to call it a source of frustration for her could hardly be an adequate description. It must be why I'm being such a gentleman, he thought. It was hardly something he was noted for. Lucky for her I found her first, and not that asshole. Lucky for me, too. "You can swallow, can't you?" She nodded, looking longingly at the water. "Okay, turn your face upward. I'm going to dribble it in slowly, so you don't choke." He brushed at the surface of the water with his hand, clearing away the thin layer of soot on the surface. He cupped his hands, then, and drew out an ounce or two of dusty liquid, holding it over the opening of her gag and letting it in a few drops at a time. He reached in again, making progress with maddening slowness. Finally she grunted and wiggled a little closer to the pool, putting her head over the edge towards the water that was just out of reach. "Wait! You're about to fall in. You can't get it that way. Wait a minute --- maybe I could just put you in the pool, and you could drink it from there. Is that what you want?" She nodded eagerly. He picked her up and took her to the other corner of the pool, where the steps were. Gingerly, not wanting to drop her, he walked down into the pool with her. They both gasped as the chill of the water took their breath away, and he waited until she nodded she was ready to go farther. The safest way to hold her seemed to be putting his leg through hers and letting her crotch rest on his thigh as he sat on one of the steps. His head just out of the water, he carefully let her down lower until the water finally rushed into the opening of the gag. He quickly lifted her up, not wanting her to get too much, and let her down again for more. When she seemed satisfied, he scooped some water into his hand and patted the side of her face, washing off the worst of the grime. She sat patiently, and a lovely face emerged from behind the soot. He smiled at her, conscious of his own face probably looking like a chimney-sweep the way hers had. "You ready to get out?" She nodded, and he lifted her out of the pool and lay her on her side on the deck. My turn, he figured, as he got back in and took a long, desperately needed draft of dusty-looking, burnt-smelling, heavenly water. He ducked his head under the water and washed himself off, not expecting to make himself as pretty as she was but determined to be presentable anyway. He carried her back out to the floater, finally. "What do you say we go for a ride?" Her eyes widened, and she looked down at her body and frantically shook her head, obviously frightened by the prospect of being seen by any great number of people. "Look, I know it's scary, but we've got to get out of here. There's no food around here. Maybe we can find an area that wasn't burned out, and there'll be some food in the houses." He thought about radioactivity again, remembered being told not to eat the food in a contaminated area. What he couldn't recall was just what he was supposed to eat instead. Maybe canned stuff will be less dangerous. Anyway, the subject was moot as long as they stayed in this neighborhood. By this time she had sighed and nodded, and he deposited her in the back seat. He wished he could somehow set her free, and suddenly realized that he now had possession of a floater, and floaters carried tools. He took the key out of the ignition and opened the trunk. It was full of a random assortment of useless junk. He pawed through it briefly and slammed the trunk closed in disgust. He leaned over the door and opened the glove compartment, sifted through the owner's manual and a few other papers, and threw it closed with a snap. His anger building, he opened the side door and knelt down to look under the seats. Nothing of any earthly good, and he used a lot of unnecessary force slamming the door. The back of his mind froze him, trying to tell him something. Something about the door. He looked at it again, opened it and slammed it again. He bent down to look at the chain connecting her cuffs and shackles. Yeah, it might work. "I want to try something. I think I can do something about this chain here. It might be a little dangerous, but I think it'll work. You want to try it?" She nodded excitedly, willing to do anything if she could just somehow get loose. He reached in to pick her up, and set her down on her side across the opened rear window, just behind the front door, facing the rear of the floater, her upper body inside the vehicle, her legs outside. It took some experimentation to get her more or less balanced there. Holding her steady, he opened the door. While he was doing it he almost lost hold of her. He pressed his hip more tightly against her, further steadying her, as he carefully slid the chain down into the gap left by the opened door. "I better tell you what's coming. I'm going to slam the door hard. I think it'll close on the chain with enough force to break it. You ready?" She grunted, "Mmm-hmm," probably afraid nodding her head would make her overbalance one way or the other. He took his time getting ready, trying mainly to make sure her feet were out of the way, and finally threw the door closed with all the force he could manage. He heard the sharp clink as it closed on the chain, but the chain remained in one piece. "Want me to try again?" "Mmm-hmm." The door didn't seem to want to open at first, but the mechanism finally released it and he bent to inspect the chain. A couple of the links were flattened and, he thought, probably weaker than before. Again watching out for her feet, he threw the door closed again. "Still not working yet, but I think we're getting somewhere. Oh, shit!" He was yanking on the door-handle now, but the door seemed completely jammed. Great. Now she's still chained up, and caught in a door. And I can't drive with her like that, and I can't leave her alone perched up there. Shit. Open, damn it! She trembled with the strain of trying to stay balanced on the narrow doorframe, and whimpered a little, sounding scared and obviously aware of what was happening. He patted her hip reassuringly. "It's okay, I'll have it open in a minute. I've just got to get a better angle on it." He climbed over the door to try to kick it open from the inside. His arm across the seat holding her by her upper arm, he lashed out with his foot, twice. He realized the door probably wouldn't open that way even without a chain jammed in it, not if he didn't hold the door-handle out at the same time. Still holding her, he reached over the side of the door with his other hand, pulled up on the handle, wondering what he could possibly do if this didn't work, and struck outward with his foot again. With a great scraping sound, the door opened outward, and the girl gasped as she felt the chain part and cried out in pain as her legs straightened for the first time in. . . had to be twelve hours or so. "I got it! You okay, honey?" A part of his mind heard himself call her that and wondered at it. Still moaning, lying draped over the side of the car, she responded, "Mmm-hmm." He picked her up and lay her across the back seat. She squirmed onto her back and lay with her eyes closed, pumping her legs slowly back and forth. "I still don't know what I can do about the handcuffs. There's not enough space between them. Or the shackles either." Or the damned gag. She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. Still on her back, she parted her knees, her ankles crossed. From behind her butt he could see her reach through her crotch with an index finger, tapping it against her labia, poking it slightly inside her. He felt a warm feeling rising inside him, and something else rising in his shorts. He pulled them off. Getting too crowded in there. As he lay on top of her, inside her, conscious of her legs wrapped around him, her breasts pressed against his chest, and all the other places their bodies touched, it seemed to him he'd loved girls before, and had sex with girls before, but somehow they'd never been the same ones. Before.