They rushed back to the convoy’s base overnight. Magnus brought Charlotte and the 500 female team mbers who had previously gone out to collect animal blood, arriving at the underground parking lot of Hanford Advanced Finance College early the next morning.
An oversized white goose corpse was blocking the entrance, and the off-road vehicle that dragged its body was still parked there. Magnus had figured they might need this place again, at the very least for more blood harvesting missions.
The steel transport and sleeper trucks pulled in one after the other. With prior experience under their belts, the won split up quickly - 200 got to work on blood collection, and the other 300 focused on assembling the steel shelters.
The only lighting ca from truck headlights, but that was enough.
Charlotte supervised the shelter construction while Magnus, with nothing better to do, went out hunting again with Harper.
Harper was at the wheel, dragging the massive rooster corpse behind the vehicle, heading back to the underground lot.
Since the last ti her lies were called out by Magnus, Harper’s poker face was long gone. Now, when it was just the two of them, she bead constantly, chatting away and telling stories from her team and the won in her sleeper truck - who was the prettiest, who had the best figure, who used to be a rich girl from the city...
"Magnus, I really like you, I an it..."
He had lost count of how many tis she’d said that and said nothing in return, slumped in the passenger seat. Right now, even pretty faces didn’t move him - he was just blank inside.
"How ’bout this then..."
Harper suddenly slamd the brakes, turned, and clung to his arm like she was pleading, "If nothing else... just let be your personal driver, alright?"
"...Fine," Magnus sighed deeply. "Drive. You got the job." If that could shut her up for a mont, it was already a blessing.
"No way!" Harper pouted, still holding his arm, "That didn’t sound like you ant it. You’re brushing off!"
"For crying out loud! I’m not brushing you off! Really, from now on, you’re officially my personal driver. Happy?"
"Really?" She blinked at him.
"For the last ti - yes. It’s real." Magnus swallowed the frustration building in his chest.
"Alright. Then write a guarantee..." Harper still clutched his arm, not letting go.
Magnus cracked. "What am I supposed to write on? With what? I don’t have a pen! Or any paper!"
Looking unbothered, Harper blinked again and thought aloud, "No pen or paper, true... Oh! Wait!"
She rummaged in her bag, pulled out a stick of lip gloss, and pressed it into his hand. "Here - use this! You can write the guarantee on , even on my thigh, I don’t mind..."
And then she started taking off her pants.
All Magnus could think was: I just want to guarantee that I stay as far away from you as possible.
He gritted his teeth, resigned to whatever madness this was, and knelt down reluctantly. She was already perched on the edge of the table, one leg raised, her smooth thigh fully exposed.
"Fine," he muttered. "You asked for it."
He uncapped the lip gloss, its sugary scent making his nose wrinkle, and brought the tip to her skin.
The mont the balm touched her inner thigh, Harper shivered.
"Ohhh... that’s cold," she said, voice suddenly breathier than before.
He ignored her and began to write. The gloss dragged slowly across her skin in wide, deliberate strokes - his handwriting wasn’t neat, but it was legible. He had to press a little harder to get the color to show up, and that ant more contact. More heat.
Harper sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh my god... that’s... weirdly nice..."
He paused. "What?"
"Nothing. Keep writing," she said quickly, her cheeks flushed.
He kept going. Down the curve of her thigh, up again in a looping word. Her legs twitched slightly under his hand.
"Seriously, what is wrong with you?" he muttered.
But she wasn’t listening anymore.
Her breathing had picked up, her eyes half-lidded. Her nipple - visible through her thin shirt - was stiff. Her fingers clenched the edge of the table as he finished the last word, "GUARANTEED."
The second he lifted the gloss from her skin, Harper let out a breathy, trembling moan.
Then her body arched.
"Oh - fuck," she gasped, hips jerking once, then locking up.
He stared, frozen.
"You didn’t just - "
"I didn’t an to!" she squeaked, face crimson now. "I-I didn’t think it’d feel that good! I’m just... really sensitive and you were... it was right on the edge and - " She bit her lip, eyes wide. "This doesn’t count as sex, right?"
Magnus stood slowly, capped the gloss, and dropped it on the table.
"I’m going to pretend none of this happened," he said flatly.
Harper smiled sheepishly. "But, um... if you ever need to write sothing else on , I won’t stop you."
He turned away before he said sothing he’d regret.
Honestly, if she hadn’t been so cooperative these days, he’d have replaced her long ago. Part of him also worried that if he ticked her off too much, she’d stir up trouble back at base.
And now... now he had to live with the knowledge that writing the word "guarantee" on a woman’s thigh had made her co.
What the hell was his life.
*****
By 7 p.m., Charlotte had finished assembling 24 truck-sized steel shelters. Each one bristled with rebar spikes. One was enough for the test, but Magnus was right - better to build more. Once they ran into a wild cargo truck in the field, they could flip one of these shelters right over it like a lid.
Even if the trial failed, these things still had their use.
Chickens, ducks, and geese usually started settling down around 8 p.m. and were sound asleep by 10 p.m. It was only 7 now - they’d skip testing on the poultry tonight and go straight for the real threats: bats and rats.
After a long day of work, it was ti for roast chicken. The 500 female team mbers knew the drill and quickly got to preparing dinner.
The massive rooster at was tastier than the big white goose, especially that thick red comb on its head - Magnus especially liked that part. The won preferred things like wings, hearts, livers - mostly because with those, they didn’t have to pluck feathers. One single wing from these giant birds weighed dozens of pounds.
Charlotte had never eaten one of these mutated creatures. Always a wing lover, she was stunned when she saw the size of one. Shock and awe filled her face beyond words.
Wings, legs, and other bits sizzled over a dozen grills in the underground parking lot. It wasn’t just one bird - Magnus had brought down three in total during the day. The best parts had been saved. There was even goose liver and a pair of giant goose legs.
As the at cooked, the sll spread thick through the air.
Magnus leaned back against a concrete pillar, eyes shut. Charlotte and Isabel sat beside him. Harper, naturally, was on his other side - she followed him everywhere like a shadow when they were out.
Nearby, a dozen won were grilling chicken legs over open fla. As the at began to sizzle and brown, one of them shouted across the parking lot, loud and proud,
"Charlotte! Isabel! The thighs are hot and juicy - co grab so at!"
Magnus, still deep in thought about the steel shelter trial, nearly choked on his water.
He sat upright, coughing violently.
The woman who’d yelled seed oblivious, but the others weren’t. Laughter erupted imdiately - raucous, unfiltered.
Charlotte and Isabel both turned beet red. Isabel was the first to crack, covering her mouth to stifle a giggle. Charlotte shot a quick glance at Magnus, then burst into helpless laughter herself.
Soone at the grill added helpfully, "Don’t worry, Magnus - we saved the biggest piece for you!"
That sent the crowd over the edge. Even bloodstained and bruised, the won were still full of fire and mischief. A few of them, half-joking, half-serious, started calling out, "Want so dark at?" and "Bet you like it extra tender, huh?"
Magnus sighed, defeated, and lowered his head - quietly chewing on the damn chicken leg that had started all this.
After eating, there was still so ti before 10 p.m. Magnus told everyone to rest a bit. When the ti ca, he’d take one of the sleeper trucks out, find a teorite on the Hanford Advanced Finance College campus, and start the real trial.
At 10:15 p.m., Harper drove the off-roader, pushing half of a giant rooster carcass ahead of it outside the underground lot. Right behind her, Magnus, Charlotte, and Isabel rode in the sleeper truck, giving commands as they followed close behind.
Whether the steel shelter would do its job - tonight would tell them everything.
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