"Can we trust the rest of the fellowship enough to tell them?" Dustin asked. He hugged an old tin bucket to his chest like a life preserver. Plumbing hadn't yet been restored to the cul-de-sac and he didn't feel safe going to vomit in the outhouse where someone might catch him and start asking questions. Sweat speckled his forehead, making his bangs stick to his flushed skin. He could lie and say it was the flu if not for the bump pushing against his shirt.
That's right. Dustin was one of... them.
Men didn't know until it was too late, and everyone reacted differently. Most terminated however they could the minute they found out. Feeling like a freak was the strongest motivation, but also not wanting to get swept up in the chaos of becoming a priceless commodity was a close second. Anyone who could breed, male or female, always became the center of small wars between gangs who wanted to hoard the baby-makers for themselves. Being a breeder was more valuable than gold.
Dustin and Sin had a pretty comfortable life, all things considered. They fell in with a suburban fellowship whose main goal was to get back to quiet farm life. It was almost like being in a hippie cult, except their lives depended on succeeding in their endeavors. The greenhouse was their pride and joy. Dustin had a knack for raising houseplants in his past life, so that meant he got to play farmer these days. The house he shared with Sid was nice. A collapsed staircase meant the upstairs was inaccessible, but the roof was intact. The doors and windows were gone, but old sheets kept the rain and wind out just fine. And so maybe a couple walls were crumbling and the furniture was mildewy, but it sure beat living in a tent or a cave like other folks in other places.
Dustin lurched and bowed his head into the bucket as he puked again. Tears stung his eyes. His nose dripped. This was so bad.
That's right. Dustin was one of... them.
Men didn't know until it was too late, and everyone reacted differently. Most terminated however they could the minute they found out. Feeling like a freak was the strongest motivation, but also not wanting to get swept up in the chaos of becoming a priceless commodity was a close second. Anyone who could breed, male or female, always became the center of small wars between gangs who wanted to hoard the baby-makers for themselves. Being a breeder was more valuable than gold.
Dustin and Sin had a pretty comfortable life, all things considered. They fell in with a suburban fellowship whose main goal was to get back to quiet farm life. It was almost like being in a hippie cult, except their lives depended on succeeding in their endeavors. The greenhouse was their pride and joy. Dustin had a knack for raising houseplants in his past life, so that meant he got to play farmer these days. The house he shared with Sid was nice. A collapsed staircase meant the upstairs was inaccessible, but the roof was intact. The doors and windows were gone, but old sheets kept the rain and wind out just fine. And so maybe a couple walls were crumbling and the furniture was mildewy, but it sure beat living in a tent or a cave like other folks in other places.
Dustin lurched and bowed his head into the bucket as he puked again. Tears stung his eyes. His nose dripped. This was so bad.
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