Page 61 of Whispers and Warriors
“So, you do this trip all the time?”
“Three times a year so far. It takes time to steal the supplies we need. The government handout drops aren’t enough to fuel a mission like this. Thankfully the island has a lot of livestock and vegetation. Not the stuff we’re used to, but good stuff.”
I could farm again.
The thought would’ve driven her mad five years ago, but today it seemed like a warm hug.
“It’s nice to see everyone so happy,” Emma remarked to the woman beside her, a petite brunette with a friendly smile. “I don’t think I’ve heard this much laughter in... well, a long time.”
Delany nodded, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s important to find joy where we can,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “In a world like this, these moments of peace are precious, but the island will change all that.”
Emma couldn’t agree more. As she looked around the room, taking in the faces of the women who had become her sisters in survival, she felt a swell of gratitude. They had all lost so much, had endured unimaginable hardships, and yet here they were, finding solace in each other’s company.
And though her heart ached for the men who waited for her return, Emma was excited to be able to be with others who knew her experience in a way men never would.
“I’m from the safe haven. We’d barely gotten there when a transmission warned what was going to happen because I wasn’t pregnant and my team was essentially told they would be killed and I could end up being a fuck doll since I hadn’t conceived despite many attempts.”
Delany’s face twisted with disgust, but before she could respond the woman beside Emma leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I don’t think I’ve properly introduced myself,” she said with a smile. “I’m Sarah. I’ve heard so much about you, Emma. It’s an honor to finally meet you. I came from a small family compound just outside of Colorado. There were whispers about this ship, so my family took the risk. Nine kids, three adult women and five adult men. I think we’re the only party bigger than yours”
Emma felt a blush creep into her cheeks. “The honor is all mine,” she replied, reaching out to clasp Sarah’s hand in a warm handshake. “I love hearing that there are families here.”
Sarah’s gaze turned serious, her eyes searching Emma’s face. “We’ve all had to make hard choices to survive,” she said softly. “Thankfully this trip is supposed to remove of that.”
The weight of Sarah’s words settled in on Emma and she swallowed hard. It was a burden she hadn’t asked for, but one she would bear gladly if it meant bringing some measure of comfort to those around her.
“I’m just lucky to have found such incredible people to stand beside me,” Emma said, her voice thick with emotion. “My boys...they’ve been my rock through all of this. I don’t know what I would do without them.”
Sarah nodded, her dark brown eyes shining with understanding. “Love is a powerful thing,” she murmured. “It can give us the strength to keep going, even when all seems lost. And from what I’ve seen, the love between you and your men... it’s something special.”
As the conversation lulled, Emma found herself lost in thought, her gaze drifting over the sea of faces before her. Each woman here had a story, a tale of loss and hardship etched into the lines of their faces and the shadows in their eyes. And yet, despite it all, they had endured. They had found the strength to keep going, to carve out a new life in the ruins of the old world.
It was a strength that Emma both admired and envied. For so long, she had been running, always looking over her shoulder, never daring to hope for a future beyond mere survival. But now, surrounded by the warmth and camaraderie of these women, she couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps there was something more waiting for her on the horizon.
Her thoughts turned to her harem, to the five men who had become her everything.
They were her home, her family, her reason for living. And yet, even as her heart ached with longing for them, Emma knew that this moment, this brief respite from the chaos and danger of the outside world, was a gift. A chance to breathe, to remember what it felt like to be human, to connect with others who understood the weight of the burdens she carried.
As the conversation picked up once more, Emma let herself be swept away by the flow of words and laughter. She savored each bite of food, each sip of water, each fleeting moment of normalcy. And deep down, in a corner of her heart that she had long thought dead, a tiny flicker of hope began to burn, a promise of a future that might one day be more than just a distant dream.
The peal of laughter that escaped Emma’s lips was a foreign sound, a melody she had all but forgotten in the grim reality of their post-apocalyptic world. The joke, a simple, lighthearted quip about the challenges of finding a decent pair of shoes amidst the rubble, had struck a chord within her, igniting a spark of mirth that she couldn’t contain.
“I never thought I’d miss high heels,” Emma said, her eyes dancing with amusement as she glanced at the worn, practical boots on her feet. “But what I wouldn’t give for a pair of stilettos right about now.”
The woman beside her, a petite redhead with a smattering of freckles across her nose, grinned in understanding. “Right? I used to complain about how uncomfortable they were, but now? I’d trade a week’s worth of rations for a chance to feel that ache in my arches again.”
The table erupted in a chorus of agreement, each woman sharing her own memories of the little luxuries they had once taken for granted. Lipstick, perfume, the perfect little black dress—all relics of a world that no longer existed, but that lived on in their shared nostalgia.
As the laughter subsided, Emma felt a warmth blossoming in her chest, a sense of camaraderie and connection that she had never experienced before. These women, each one a survivor in her own right, understood the trials she had faced, the losses she had endured. They knew the value of a moment of levity, a fleeting escape from the constant strain of simply staying alive.
Chris might not love it, but Emma was going to come to these meals as often as they had them. He would come to understand, and probably realized he missed boy time as much as she needed this.
William stood rigidlyoutside the bustling lunch area, his piercing blue eyes scanning the crowd of chattering women inside. A simmering frustration bubbled just beneath his calm exterior as he watched them go about their meal, blissfully unaware of the dangers that lurked beyond the confines of this ship.
He shifted his weight, the rifle slung across his back a familiar and reassuring presence. As much as he loathed being stuck on guard duty after days spent with leadership. Someone had to keep watch, to protect what remained of their fractured world.
Protect her.
His thoughts drifted to Emma, picturing her warm smile and the way her hazel eyes sparkled when she laughed. A fierce protectiveness surged through him. He would do anything, give anything, to keep her safe. To keep all of them safe. If that meant standing outside some silly tea or lunch or whatever this was, he’d do it.
