IT HAD TURNED DARK when the bikes reached the Eastman agrarian farm.

The snowfall was getting heavier. Haley got off the chopper and True Bob noticed that it was a bigger house than the Jensen’s, with a barn behind it. They all stepped inside and into the living room. It was like a food storage store, with sacks of grains stacked...

“Sorry about the big mess. We both work in the fields all day — and no one does much housekeeping around.” Haley said in embarrassment. Carrie used a broom to chase a couple of mice that scuttled off, despite there were two fat, overfed, tomcats that were asleep on the table.

True Bob noticed the whiff of cured dried meat that was hanging on hooks near the kitchen area — Reeves too got the odoriferous smell, and his stomach rumbled — realizing that he had skipped his dinner since the unexpected visit by the Eastmans.

“What about the barn behind?” Reeves said when he saw the many sacks of grain in the artless house.

“The roof was blown away when the tornado came before, it went on its path to then hit the Pearlman’s farm — and since there was no one around to fix the roof, which is why we have stocked every grain in the house,” replied the woman, before turning to her wife...

“Carrie, get us coffee, it is freezing in here.”

***

True Bob helped to set up the fireplace while Carrie poured hot coffee into metal cups. Haley took a bottle of bourbon from a cabinet. “Come, boys, let’s have a drink. We normally take it in our coffee, especially on cold nights like these.” Haley poured the booze into the steaming coffee cups.

“These are the few things we trade for it — without our grain supply, the town folks would starve.”

“That is very noble of you to do that,” Bob replied.

They all clank the coffee cups to toast before sipping the warmed brew. “It is good to see Laura after all these years. I am so sad she is leaving tomorrow.” Both the Intersexuals saw Carrie bringing a ten-pound small sack, of the ration of grain with dried meat and —bestowed it on the table. Reeves and Bob finished their fortified-coffee and stood up — Reeves excused on their behalf...

“I think we got to get going, the snow is getting heavy outside. Thanks for the ration, Haley.”

“Please, please have more whiskey.”

Haley picked up the bottle, and the Reeves declined with a smile and stood up wearily. “It is okay, save it for a colder night. We have to leave now.”

Haley laughed, “I insist, come on and drink more. No worries, I have a few bottles stashed for winter.” Haley refilled their cups, and the guys drank up.

“This is good stuff,” True Bob said and placed the cup down.

Reeves's hand reached out to beckon the ration sack — but Haley pulled it away towards her...

“Reeves listen, I have changed my mind — we need to make a trade for the ration — now sit down, both of you.”

Only Bob, the curious one sat back again across her, at the table — Reeves was still standing, he was lost of words...

He was figuring what conundrum was she coercing after moments ago she was so prepossessing, and obliging her munificent in front of Laura — her sorority Wellsville-farmer-sister-buddy. He noticed that even Carrie looked confused, by Haley’s necessitated decision...

Reeves finally spoke up. “But I have told you earlier, we are low on everything we got — and we have nothing much to offer...

“So Haley, what do you want?”

“Seed.” Haley said, and bottoms up her drink, then pouring her third.

Reeves was puzzled. “What seed? I am not a farmer.”

Haley Eastman looked into his eyes for two seconds in silence, before she spoke again...

“I want the seed of Laura's son — in Carrie's womb.”

Carrie protested aloud. “What is the meaning of this, Haley, I am your wife?” Haley looked at her and reasoned...

“Carrie my dearest, I can love you with all my heart — but I can't give you a child — but he can.”

Haley looked at the dumbfounded Intersexual, standing gauche...

“Reeves, please understand this — twelve years ago we counted, and there were 248 people in Wellsville — mostly older women. Today there are only 74 of us left. Year by year the Wellsville community is shrinking. The government has neglected us totally in this part of the world — since the virus first struck. We cannot travel far on foot to cities to get our women pregnant. We are all doomed here — to grow old and die.”

Reeves analyzed fast on his feet to what she had harped. If that girl became pregnant — the whole of small Wellsville community would find out that Laura came with him — and so would the patrolling army. The news of his group heading to Canada would trail back to Roberta Jensen later — she would then hunt their whereabouts over the border.

“I don't think it is a good idea.”

Reeves replied her — and wanted to elaborate his thoughts out — but Haley Easton raised a pistol from under the table, and pointed at True Bob's head.

It was afoul to everyone present there...

“It is not an option Reeves, I insist that you oblige — or else your friend Bob here, takes it in the face.”

Both the Intersexuals remained silent — having also the similar contemplating thoughts of whether they too should each attack her by drawing their pistols.

The only sound clear was Carrie sobbing softly in fear of bloodshed in her house. Reeves did not want to make the young woman a widow — nor did he want to lose his confidant Bob in case the older woman pulled the trigger first — so he stood down...

Haley spoke again after finishing her drink...

“People like us in Wellsville, we don't have much choice around here — and when a given opportunity presents itself, and we sure would take it.”

Haley turned to her wife...

“Carrie, the time of the month is right for you. Now take him to the bedroom — while Bob and I will wait over here.”

She refilled True Bob's cup and passed it across the table before she placed the gun down, “Come, Bob, have some more.”

True Bob looked at Reeves and gave a tacit nod. Reeves slowly followed Carrie to the bedroom — the door closed.

***

Carrie sat at the foot of the bed, and he stood behind the closed door, began to kick off his sneakers. Reeves heard the girl talk — she was nervous and nattered...

“Mister, I have never been with anyone except Haley, so I have not seen a naked man before except — except, except for seeing it in the old magazines when in town. It has lots of pictures of men with big cocks — doing the girls.”

‘Big cocks?’

Maybe that is how the callow girls speak in that town, — inhabited solely by women, he mused...

“Just spare me the details — and don't expect much — I am not a porn star.”

He turned away from her and began to undo his pants. Similarly, Carrie turned away — and dimmed the oil lamp, before unbuttoning her shirt...

She thought of the bike ride back to the farm, holding tight onto him — she was quietly roused again. While, Reeves too had never been with a woman before — except for the quotidian semen collection with the Fifi-sex-dolls in Tombscradle.

He felt abysmal that his first time — had to be with his mum’s best friend’s wife — at gunpoint.

***

At the table, Haley hand-rolled some cigarettes and True Bob took one. She lighted it for him. She then refilled their cups. They tried to engage in a casual conversation. “So Bob, where are you from?”

True Bob rarely shared about his past with anyone — but this woman had a gun. So he spoke...

“My mother was from the Qualla in North Carolina — it is a Cherokee Eastern band Reservation, but back then, as a college student, she moved to study in Chicago before the virus-attack. There in Chicago was where she met my father. He was a White man.

“...and after the virus killed him and all, my mother brought me back to the Reservation when I was seven. I was there for a while but I did not like it there. Having a name like Truman Robert made everyone at the Qualla look down on me, because I was not a true native. Being an Intersexual and not pure, I was treated more like their dogs. After some years, my mother too died of Hepatitis, and I had to live with some relatives, but I felt unwelcomed — so I ran away from the Reservation when I was ten...”

They both turned to a Carrie's high pitched scream, she was calling out...

“Haley, I don't wanna do it — it hurts!”

Haley hollered back at the closed-door...

“Reeves, shut her up. You both are not leaving that room until you are done — you hear me, Carrie!” She then turned back to True Bob, “Then what happened, Bob? Yes, do continue your story.”

They both heard Carrie carried on to cry — repeating the word ‘no.’

True Bob did not wish to remain at the table, “Haley, can I wait outside? I don’t feel comfortable here.” She looked back capricious and nodded — True Bob stood up, and walked out of the front door.

Outside, he smoked the remaining cigarette with the upwind blowing. The front door opened — and Haley stepped out, and saw True Bob pulling his collar to the blowing wind, he turned to her...

“You thought I will run away?”

“No, I felt uneasy too sitting there. Here, this will help.” She passed the quarter remaining bottle of the whiskey to him — and he took a swig, and returned it back. They both now drank from the bottle...

“I was still in grade school when the virus first came. After less than a year, all the boys and men — my father and older brothers around here died — and since then, it has been a daily struggle for survival out here.

“I was only twelve when all of those people I ever loved were taken away. That damned virus has really robbed me of my youth too — and I never had a boyfriend — and never knew what it was like to be kissed by a boy. I never experienced what was a real marriage, pregnancy, motherhood and all. Today, I am thirty years old, and I am an old virgin.”

Haley laughed, shaking her drunken head with sadness.

***

On the bed, Carrie began liking it — her moaning was equally loud with Reeves growling and pounding his hips expeditiously onto her. Carrie's legs rose up in the air — Reeves groaned out before he ejaculated inside.

He then rolled over and dropped ligneous on his side, catching up with his tired breath.

Carrie turned facing him and fondled his arm — looking at all the raw scrape marks on his arms and back...

“I scratched you a lot, I am sorry, Mister.”

Reeves did not reply to her. He felt gauche lying in the bed with Haley’s wife after he had just cream-pied her. He got off the bed and grabbed his pants.

He heard her from behind...

“Where are you going?”

“I am done — I am going back.”

Just like after a Tombscradle semen collection routine.

He walked lethargically out of the room bare-bodied, holding his jacket, his skin now smart from all of Carrie's nail-digging. No one was at the table. He turned to notice the blond Carrie standing naked, unashamedly behind him.

“Hey, go put something on.”

She left back inside — and Reeves heard something solid drop on the floorboard ahead.

He explored towards the next room of the unfamiliar locale. The door was slightly ajar — and the empty quaffed bourbon bottle rolled on the floor towards his feet.

The room was also filled with low stacked sacks of grains. True Bob was on top of Haley, on the heap of sacks — and they both were naked from the waist below. Their lips were passionately locked...

Carrie came over draped in a little towel — and she peeked from Reeve's back. She smiled at Reeves, who then gently closed the door. Carrie cavorted as she dragged his limping hands — to precipitate into following her.

“Let’s do it again, Mister.”

Her promiscuous eyes danced to the rhyme of her own voice — whispering into his tired asinine look...

“But we just did it,” he responded drowsily.

Just like only once a day as in his Tombscradle routine — his magnanimous contribution for the future of female specie’s preservation.

“Come Mister — I will show you how they do it — in the dirty magazine.”

***

Reeves later found out from the blond that the noncommittal Wellsville town’s barbershop, was where they had compiled porno magazines and erotica books like a mini library — and the Wellsville women — went over there when they got lonely.