The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The house was gone in under an hour. Not just demolished, but bulldozed and scooped up into the dump trucks and carted away. Where it had stood was a shallow hole on the hillside, the remains of the crawlspace that I’d hid in as a young kid, and been scared of as a slightly older one because of the spiders and chance of snakes or other animals. And been annoyed by as a teen, getting told to go clean it out as a punishment for something I couldn’t remember.

Most of the others had stepped away once the main show was over, Danielle scooping Ivy under her wing to get to know the new girl in our weird little circle as she and Leo said they would make breakfast. Vanessa gave me a pat on the arm as she went back to work.

Erica stuck with me, wrapping her fingers in mine as she continued to lean her cheek on my shoulder.

I took a deep breath and let it out, closing my eyes for a moment and picturing the house, then letting it go. “Alright, that’s enough of that,” I said.

“If you need more time, it’s OK,” Erica said.

“No, no,” I said, pivoting in place and wrapping her up in my arms, holding her close. “It’s done. I had my moment, and we had moments last night. I just need to let it out and be done and move on.”

“You’re such a guy,” Erica snorted, then lowered her voice to mimic me. “Just gotta rub some dirt on it.”

“Do you know why people say that?” I laughed.

“No, but I’m sure it’s stupid,” Erica said.

“Well, most people don’t think about it,” I said. “But it’s got something to do with natural clay being good for wounds and abscesses. Not replace-modern-medicine good, but it can act as a sort of bandage to help staunch bleeding if you have nothing else.”

“I knew you were a hot nerd sometimes,” Erica said. “But I didn’t realize you were a geek, too.”

That got me laughing, which felt good. I ended up taking the rest of the morning for myself, telling the Surveyors I needed a bit of time, and then we rode out onto the trails on the ATVs. Erica drove the second one, having had plenty of practice over the past couple of months, and Ivy sat behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist.

We gave Ivy the tour, taking frequent stops to show off views that I knew were going to be disappearing sooner than later. I had no doubt the hills were going to change shape to make room for roads and flat plots for houses and yards. We ended the tour up near the spring and the graveyard, where I pointed out to the girls where we had decided our house would be, Leo’s next to us, and my sister and her family on the other side.

Then Erica got that look on her face, and she started taking off her clothes, and we ended up naked in the spring stream where it pooled into a little swimming hole—barely big enough to really even call it that, more like a cold, fresh tub than a pool.

Ivy walked us through a lot of her tattoos—she was the kind of girl who got them on a whim but was very particular about her aesthetic when she did. The left side of her body was peppered with dark navy ink, the right clean and smooth, and she danced between Erica and I in the water, spinning with a playful smile on her lips.

We ended up fucking, my bare ass on the rocky bank as Ivy straddled me and bounced like a wild child with my cock in her ass, while Erica stroked Ivy’s back and side as she sat beside us. Then, once Ivy was satisfied, Erica washed me in the spring and took me in her mouth, getting me hard again so we could have a leisurely fuck in the grass.

Afterwards, as I lay on my back and stared up at the blue spring sky above us, Ivy crawled between Erica and I and snuggled close.

“This is not normal,” she said, her French Canadian accent putting a roundness on her words. “And I am scared about how OK I am with it. Just un petit peu. You both are so wonderful, and I am not so used to relationships. Especially ones that feel so big, so fast. Usually, I would run away from this sort of thing.”

Erica rolled onto her side, hugging Ivy from behind. “Don’t be afraid to feel,” she whispered into the shorter woman’s ear as she snuggled her chin against Ivy’s shoulder. “All you need to do is talk with us. Harrison is almost too respectful, and things are changing quickly for all three of us. Just talk.”

And we did. We talked about nothing for a while. Ivy told us about growing up in the bush of northern Quebec—which didn’t sound so different from growing up here in the west coast foothills of the Rockies. Erica told stories about growing up with Leo, and let Ivy in on the story of us crushing on each other but her holding to her deal with her brother. Ivy told us about her younger half-sister Séraphine, and how despite the five-year age gap between them they had always had a close frenemy relationship. They would go at each other like cats and dogs, but if someone else tried to say or do anything to one of them, she knew her sister would be the first person to step in and defend her.

Eventually we got hungry and had to put on clothes and head back down to the controlled chaos of the growing construction site. Ivy rode with Erica back down the trails, and I saw on more than one occasion that she was hanging onto the older woman’s tits instead of her waist. We ate lunch with Danielle and Leo, and then both Leo and I were getting co-opted into work with the surveyors again.

I lost track of time for the next couple of days—the surveyors were constantly wanting to double-check locations across the property and asking for guidance to and from different landmarks that we’d set up. And if that wasn’t happening, we were meeting with Vanessa and moving the RVs and our vehicles while she organized moving the storage containers to make more room for supplies and equipment getting trucked in.

And if none of that was happening, we were fucking. Often together, with Ivy enjoying the roleplay of being our little plaything. But just as often apart when we wanted some time alone with each other to figure out how we fit together. Sometimes it was quick; a fast shag after eating lunch with Erica bent over the table in the RV or Ivy shoving my cock down her throat hidden in the storage containers, and sometimes we went back to the spring, or another quiet corner of the woods, and we took our time. I fucked Erica up against the old willow tree where I’d lost my virginity to Kara a decade and a half earlier, and she joked about taking the experience back from her—we also almost got caught by Leo and two of the surveyors walking by. Ivy had a particularly adventurous spirit, and one night when the crews were all gone for the day she found one of the office portables that had been left open and took me in her ass while laying across someone’s desk.

Time went quickly, but also seemed to go nowhere at all—only three days after the final demise of the house we’d moved the RVs four times and I decided we needed to figure out something at least semi-permanent. Even a week in the same spot would be preferable to constant movement. The space where my house had stood was now full of stacks and pallets of supplies, and Vanessa had a crew of almost two dozen of her ‘gorillas’ working to erect what would become the first of a dozen temporary bunkhouses for the incoming construction workers. She still seemed to be the only foreman on site, so I went looking for Vanessa.

I found her at the water truck, splashing some water onto the back of her neck as she took a quick break. It had turned even hotter over the week, spring slipping fully into summer, and we were all starting to boil when we were outside. I’d quickly abandoned the feeling of needing to ‘dress up’ for everyone and I was down to athletic shorts and one of my sleeveless workout shirts—one of the few that were still ‘mine’ considering both Erica and Ivy had taken to wearing them as well. Vanessa was the boss however and had to set the example for the rest of the crew, so she was still wearing the jeans, long-sleeved t-shirt and her reflective vest of a dutiful construction foreman.

“Hey, got a second?” I asked.

“Oh, hey Harrison,” she said, looking up as she continued splashing water onto the back of her neck. “Sorry I haven’t come to check with you and the girls today, we had three more loads this morning of barracks pilings I had to get sorted, and the fucking surveyors are still bitching about not knowing where the sewage lines are going to come onto the property, as if I can fucking answer that question for them or something.”

“When’s your Dad supposed to finally get on site?” I asked. Her father was supposed to be the General Manager of the entire construction project, but so far I had yet to have seen him.

“Fuck, a few days still at least,” Vanessa sighed. “I’m getting tired as shit of the phone tag.”

“Well, sorry if this is a big ask and causes you more headaches—any chance we could project ahead a bit and figure out where we can stash the RVs and everything where we’re not going to need to move them for a while? Moving everything around is annoying by itself, but I’ve also noticed some of your guys are spending a lot of time wandering by the RVs whenever the girls are outside.”

“Fucking gorillas,” Vanessa grunted and grimaced. “I mean, on the one hand, I get it—they are either cooped up in the motel or here working. I’m not exactly thrilled with the situation either. But they could keep it in their fucking pants too, y’know?”

“Look, if we can find a spot, the way I see it we can use the RVs and Containers to set up a yard for us that’s blocked from view. Then we can have some privacy and not feel cooped up in the RVs, and your guys aren’t tempted to let their eyes wander,” I said. “I figure it’s a win-win.”

Vanessa smiled and patted my arm. “Harri, as long as you keep the fucking indoors, I’ll see what I can do about getting you guys some more privacy.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, suddenly a little worried that Erica and I might have gotten caught at the Willow tree after all, or that maybe a surveyor had wandered up near the Spring without us hearing.

“Nothing, nothing,” Vanessa said. “I just- you know we can see the RVs rocking a bit, right? And I don’t know who it is, but someone over in your camp is a screamer. We can hear her when she really gets going. Once the guys even gave you a standing ovation.”

“Fuck,” I coughed, shaking my head. “I’m sorry. I think it’s something to do with the vaccine. I’ve had more sex in the last four days than I have in the last four years. Honestly, I don’t even know how I’m doing it—I ain’t old, but I’m not a teenager either.”

“Well, god bless the vaccine I guess,” Vanessa smirked. “And good for you. Just do me a favour and keep it inside the RVs ’till we can get you that privacy. We don’t need the entire site shutting down to listen to you fucking your girlfriends.”

I shook my head again with a self-deprecating smirk. “Um, deal. I hope.”

That made Vanessa chuckle, and we parted ways for the afternoon.

The next day, she came back in the morning and explained the plan she had worked out with the Surveyors and one of the tree-clearing crews. By mid-afternoon, a new swathe of the back end of the hill was bare of trees, and a bulldozer scooped dirt into the holes left by ripped-up stumps. By the time Vanessa left that evening, two of the storage containers had been shifted around by the ‘gorillas’ and positioned in an L-shape for us in the new location, and Leo and I moved the RVs to form the other two sides of a square.

When Vanessa came by the next morning we’d hung up some old, heavy blankets at the corners to maximize our privacy, busted out the lawn chairs and barbecue, and were on our way to turning the space into an outdoor living room. Leo and I even went so far as to rig up an old bell we’d salvaged from the barn on a wooden post with a metal knocker on a string to serve as a doorbell.

Erica was the one to answer Vanessa’s ring of the bell, and she swept aside the blanket curtain. “Welcome to Casa de Black,” she declared.

“Jesus,” Vanessa said, walking into our new home base. “You guys didn’t want to wait, did you?”

“Why would we?” Leo asked. “We don’t know how long we’re going to be living like this, so might as well make the most of it.” Leo had decided to make one last addition to our current set-up, and had pulled a loose slab of wood from the container holding all his tools and was carving ‘Speak Friend and Enter’ into it the makeshift sign with his handheld angle grinder. He’d already been talking about using his torch to burn the wood before giving it a clear lacquer coat.

“What can we do for you, Vanessa?” I asked. “Need some breakfast?”

“Actually?” Vanessa chewed on the inside of her cheek for a second and peeked back outside the yard. “Breakfast would be fucking great. They’re feeding us at the motel, but it’s been the same instant oatmeal every fucking morning.”

“Well, we’ve yet to have our egg hookup dry out on us,” I said. Old Mrs Branston lived about fifteen minutes down the highway and had been selling eggs to three generations of my family—through the pandemic and quarantine we’d set up a system where I called ahead and she dropped off two dozen eggs at the end of her driveway, and I left a ten dollar bill in her mailbox. “How do you like them? I think I’m getting pretty good at using the grill with a frying pan.”

We hosted Vanessa for about fifteen minutes as I fried her up some over-easy eggs and some toast to go with it, and she started devouring the first two so quickly that I put another two in the pan for her immediately. While I cooked, she shared the most recent gossip running through the construction crews.

“So the latest group to come in said they got tested four times before even leaving the airport,” she said around a mouthful. “They were basically flown into Portland, put in little hygienic pods inside the terminals until they’d tested negative all four times, then escorted to military transports. I guess the army is our taxi service or something, and there are members of the national guard currently standing watch at all of the motels. It’s kind of fucked up and feels like a prison, honestly. We’re not even supposed to mingle outside with each other, despite the fact that we all work together here all day.”

“Who’s feeding you all?” Danielle asked. “Just the people already working out there seems like a lot.”

“Some catering service is making these prepackaged meals,” Vanessa said. “The breakfasts are shit, and the lunches are whatever. The dinners are OK though—microwavable, and waiting for us when we get off shift.”

“Have you heard anything else out there about the vaccine?” I asked.

“Mmm-mm,” Vanessa shook her head. “But I mean, I spend my time working.”

“I’m still not seeing much online,” Leo said. “Little whispers on social media, but then it disappears before it gets going.”

“That’s kinda fucked up,” Erica said. “We know it’s real. The government must be censoring the information or something.

“Well, whenever it happens, I don’t know what I’ll do,” Vanessa sighed. “I like working too much, being my own woman. I bring in more cash in a year than almost every other person I graduated high school with, I’ve been doing it for years, and I don’t have any debts. I can’t just get tied down to some guy.”

“You would be surprised, Vanessa,” Ivy spoke up. “I am this way too, no? I left home to make my way, and I am happy doing it. But now I am happy here, and am also safe from the sickness. It is not how I saw my life going, but c’est la vie, non?”

Vanessa shrugged, and we moved on to some other topics until her radio squawked and she had to run off back to her work.

By lunchtime I’d already done another two quick guides into the hills for the surveyors and Leo had gotten his nerd-sign carved out and torched, and he was spray lacquering it outside the yard with a facemask and safety goggles on to cut the strong fumes. He stopped the sprayer when he saw me approaching and stepped away from the sign. “Hey, you able to help me out with hanging this tonight?” he asked me.

“Of course,” I said. “I gotta help you fly your nerd flag somehow.”

“Yeah, says the guy with the Lord of the Rings concept art cycling as his desktop screen,” Leo rolled his eyes.

“It’s for my work,” I said. “Top-notch inspiration.” And then I realized I hadn’t opened my laptop in days—not since I’d finished the questionnaire that had led to Erica choosing me. And Ivy for that matter. I hadn’t checked emails, I hadn’t reached out to contacts. Fuck, I hadn’t even sent in my last work-for-hire backgrounds.

“Whatever,” Leo laughed and punched me in the arm. “Look, when you go in there, just know it wasn’t my idea, OK? I only helped them move the stuff.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” Leo said cryptically.

I ducked through the blanket door and immediately saw what Leo was talking about. Space had been cleared in the centre of our sheltered yard for three of the heavy Adirondack deck chairs, and laying in those chairs were Danielle, Erica and Ivy. Each of them was wearing a bikini and were glistening with sunscreen and sweat from the sun as they tanned. They had a Bluetooth speaker playing songs from their phones—I suspected Erica was trying to convince the younger two women of the virtues of mid-2000s pop punk.

“Oh, good,” Erica said, grinning as she saw me coming into the yard. She lifted her glass. “Um, excuse me, waiter? We could use a top-up, please.”

I snorted and shook my head, walking over. All three of the women were in two-piece swimsuits, though I suspected Danielle and Ivy’s were possibly part of their stripping gear rather than actual bikinis. Both of their suits were more string than fabric and left little to the imagination. Erica’s was a bit more conservative, though really not by that much because of her swathe of cleavage. “What are we drinking today, ladies?” I asked.

“I made up a pitcher of sangria,” Erica said. “It’s in the fridge in our place. You would be the absolute love of my life if you were to go get it for us, please?”

“I thought I already was the love of your life?” I asked with a smile.

“You are,” Erica smiled back. “But this will get you to the front of the line for my next life, too. How about that?”

“Does that go for all of you?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” Ivy grinned.

“I think I could definitely do worse,” Danielle grinned. “But I think Leo might have something to say about that.”

“Harri can take my brother,” Erica chuckled. “Don’t worry, Danni. Just sell your future soul to Harri, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Fine. My future love life for a refill of sangria,” Danielle giggled.

I fetched the pitcher and poured for the three women, unable to wipe the grin from my lips as I watched and listened to them bantering back and forth happily. By mid-afternoon, the tanning was over and after a quick fuck in the RV Erica and I were lounging in the Adirondacks, each of us with a sketchbook in hand.

“What are you working on?” I asked. “I know you’ve been as frustrated as I have over the last month.”

“A tattoo design for Ivy,” Erica said, her brow creased as she tapped her pencil against her lips thoughtfully. “Now that I have a future canvas, I feel like I can concentrate again. Plus the sex helps a lot.”

You laughed and nodded. “Got your creative juices flowing, huh?”

“Got all my juices flowing, baby,” she grinned at me. “What about you? I’ve got Ivy, and Danielle wants me to design something for her now, too. What’s got you drawing again?”

I smiled a little and shrugged. “Just figured out my muse,” I said.

“And what’s that?” she asked. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

I turned my sketchbook around so that Erica could see the portrait I had been sketching of her. She looked at it and blushed, biting her lower lip.

“Just the most beautiful thing in the world,” I told her.

“You know,” Erica said. “It kinda looks like you’re drawing me naked.”

“That’s cause I’m drawing you from the shoulders up,” I said.

“Yeah, but would you?” she asked.

“Would I what? Draw you naked?”

“Or Ivy?”

“Are you asking me to draw you like one of my French girls?” I asked.

Erica barked out a laugh at the reference and threw her pencil at me. “Yes, maybe I am,” she said. “Now give me back my pencil.”

“You threw it at me,” I said, fetching it off the ground. “Come and get it.”

We ended up in each other’s arms and making out, me halfway to taking her back into the RV for round two, when someone rang the door bell.

“Who is it?” I shouted over the wall.

“It’s me,” Vanessa called and ducked through the blanket door without waiting for a response. “Sorry, but we’ve got a problem,” she said. “I think I’m going to need you down at the road again.”

“Fuck,” I said. “Is it Kara?”

“It’s a lot more than that bitch,” Vanessa said.

I changed and this time Vanessa drove us both down in her company-branded pickup truck. Erica, having already staked her claim on me in front of Kara in her eyes, decided to hang back and let Ivy finish what I’d started. I was sure sending me away with that picture in my mind was done on purpose.

As we were nearing the bottom of the driveway, I could hear the noise of the protest through the closed windows and over the engine of the truck. “Fuck me,” I said.

“Yeah,” Vanessa nodded.

The end of the driveway was packed with people, shoulder to shoulder, blocking traffic. They were three rows deep and singing a protest chant. Every single one of them was dressed in bright colours, showing their allegiance to the Band and proudly shouting for all they were worth.

Opposing them, about ten feet up the drive, was a slim, single row of burly construction workers just watching the protest happen.

“Those guys really can’t let themselves get baited,” I said. “If something happens, it doesn’t matter who said what or what can hold up in court. There’ll be big, scary motherfuckers showing up wanting to do some damage and I don’t think your boys are ready for that.”

“I know, I already told them,” Vanessa said. “But I’ll tell them again. You’d be surprised how much threatening someone’s big, fat bonus checks can keep them calm and focused.”

We got out of the truck and I walked down to the line of workers, rubbing at the stubble on my chin as I considered the protestors. There were easily fifty of them blocking the driveway, and there was already a backup of two flatbed trucks on the highway, plus a half dozen cars that looked more like they just wanted to get by rather than come in. Another thirty or so protestors were strung out on either side of the highway in both directions, holding up signs and doing the organizational things to keep the protestors going.

“Pretty good turnout,” I said offhandedly. “A lot bigger than last time.”

“When was the last time?” Vanessa asked.

“Five years ago,” I said. “Kara tried to sue for an injunction on my father’s Will, and about a dozen protestors showed up to the courthouse the day she got shot down.”

“Any chance they’ll get tired and go home?” Vanessa asked.

I scanned the crowd and the vehicles parked up and down the highway. I already knew there were about thirty military-age males in the protest, and I could see people opening the backs of vans where I spotted supply caches of water and food. I could also see the determination on the faces of the crowd, and hear the declarations of a couple of different women holding loudspeakers. The rhetoric, and emotions, were ramped up more than usual. The anti-government hate was high, and now that they knew they weren’t fighting Me but rather the Government it seemed to steel their resolve.

“Not a shot,” I said. I stepped forward and the shouting got louder. Likely every single person in that crowd knew who I was, while I had no idea who most of them were. But with every step I took, they shouted louder. Finally, halfway between the lines, they seemed to be at a fever pitch and I just stopped and waited. They kept going for a good five minutes before Kara pushed her way through and walked up to me, masked behind those bandanas again.

“I told you this would happen,” Kara said over the shouting and chanting. “You didn’t think I could do it, but look at us. Look at us, Harrison! We will not let this happen to our land.”

“Kara,” I said loudly. “How do you think this ends?”

“Only one way,” Kara shouted. “The Feds surrender to our rightful claim, and stop their colonization efforts, and we take back what’s ours.”

“This is dangerous, Kara,” I said, gesturing at the crowd.

“What?” she shouted back.

“I said this is dangerous, Kara,” I shouted. “Every person here is in danger.”

“Are you threatening us?” Kara shouted, playing it up for the crowd behind her. “Going to kill us, like your family has done for generations?”

“Jesus fuck,” I said, shaking my head. “Kara, this doesn’t end the way you think it does. I’m going to pray for you, honest to God.”

Kara just held up her middle finger at me, pointed her other at Vanessa behind me, and turned and walked away to the cheers of her people. I shrugged and went back to Vanessa.

“Yeah, they aren’t leaving,” I said.

“I already called my Dad,” Vanessa said. “He’s coming down and will want to meet with you.”

“Sure,” I nodded. “If they let him through.”

About thirty minutes later the protesters were still going strong, and another three flatbeds with either supplies or heavy machinery were backed up on the highway, along with dozens of cars. Vanessa was doing as much as she could to keep her workers at least a dozen yards away from the crowd of protestors—the last thing she wanted was for them to need to get quarantined waiting on a half dozen new tests. Or worse, actually catch something.

I did my best to help her juggle phones, calling various General Foremen to get incoming trucks rerouted to staging areas and to keep those that were stuck in the traffic in their cabs or else they couldn’t enter the site. Eventually she got a call, spoke quickly and then hung up.

“Harri, this might be a big ask, but could you do me a favour?” she asked.

“The government paid me a lot of money for my land and doing favours,” I said. “But you’ve gone out of your way plenty for me and Leo and the girls. Favours come free to you, Vee.”

She rolled her eyes. “Who told you my brothers call me that?”

“No one, just felt natural,” I chuckled. “I call Erica ‘E’ sometimes, and I’m sure I’ll end up calling Ivy ‘Ive’ at some point.”

“Alright, well, ‘H,’” she said. “My dad is parked down at the edge of the property on the highway and doesn’t want to get too close to the traffic. Could you hike out to him and bring him back?”

“Sure,” I said. I looked up at the sun and then out at the woods. “Um, from here… it’s probably faster if I grab an ATV. Would he be squeamish about riding double with me?”

Vanessa snorted. “He probably wouldn’t be, but he’s also got a gut the size of your ATVs so it would be a tight fit.”

“Alright, guess we’re hiking. I can rough it and reach him in about twenty minutes,” I said. “I’ll take a smoother way back for him, so we’ll get here in under an hour.”

“Got it, I’ll let him know you’re on your way. Thanks,” she said, patting my arm. “Try to take it easy on him, he growls like a bear but he’s still my Dad.”

“Hey, he’s the big man in charge. Gotta keep him happy or else I’ll find myself with the worst workers for my house, right?”

“Very true,” she laughed.

I started hiking back up the driveway a little ways, and then diverted into the woods, hoping that the protestors would miss that I was skirting away from them. I was very glad I had changed from my lounging around clothes—rough jeans and my hiking boots were a lot sturdier in the rocky bush than athletic shorts and sandals. The raucousness of the protestors was quickly muffled by the forest to a dull roar, and it felt good to get away from them.

It was weird. After spending months in isolation with Leo and Erica, we’d been getting used to so many people around again with the workers and adding Ivy and Danielle to our weird little family dynamic. But a crowd like that, all packed together?

That was exactly what the quarantine orders were warning against.

“Harrison!”

My name cut through the muffle of the trees and shrubs, and I turned and saw Kara quickly jogging through the woods to catch up with me.

“Kara, what the fuck are you doing? You’re trespassing,” I said.

“So throw me off your land,” Kara said, coming to a stop about ten feet from me and putting her hands on her hips. “Oh wait, that’s right, it’s not your land anymore.”

I rolled my eyes. “You can take off the bandanas if you want. We’re fine this far apart.”

She did so, pulling them down to hang around her neck. Kara was still as beautiful as the day we’d broken up, though she’d grown up a lot. Where I was such a mix that it was hard to tell I had any Native American in my bloodstream, she had that classic warm skin tone and thick black hair. She’d been taking care of herself well, fit and a little thinner than Erica was, but with a similar strong jawline to my girlfriend. Her lips were as full as I remembered though, and I could almost feel her kissing me again like all those years ago behind the corner of the biology classroom in high school, or laying out in the back of my old beater pickup under the stars.

“What’s going on, Harri?” she asked me. “I thought we’d at least hit a status quo or something.”

“Oh, the one where you file a lawsuit against me every couple of years, and the judge shuts you down, but I keep having to rack up legal fees?”

“No,” she said. “Well, sort of. I thought we were keeping things above board. No games, no gimmicks. Not getting historical.”

I grimaced. “Well, we did,” I said.

“So what the fuck?” she said, throwing her arms wide. “What the fuck is all of this?”

“Kara, think about it for one fucking second without your prejudice. Imagine I’m not just doing this as a ‘Fuck You’ from my family tree to the Band,” I said. “A week ago I wouldn’t have thought any of this would be happening. A week ago I was happily living my life and would have stayed that way straight through the end of the world if I had to. Do you seriously think I’ve done this on some whim?”

“Why, then? What are they doing? What are they offering you?” she demanded.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said. “And even if you did, I think you’re too far into this already to walk it back with your people.”

“Try me,” she said. “If you ever cared about me—”

“Stop,” I interrupted her. “You’ve used that line twice on me before, Kara. You used it when you broke up with me, and you used it again right after my father died. That line didn’t work when I was at some of the lowest points in my life—do you seriously think I’ll respond well to that here?”

She grimaced, and I saw the realization in her eyes that I was right. That she had used that line before, and it had been pretty fucked up for her to do that. “I’m sorry,” she said, and only partially through gritted teeth. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Thank you,” I said. My heart was pounding in my chest and I felt like I was in combat, just having this verbal sparring contest with her. I fucking hated her, but I also still knew she was the first girl I’d ever loved. The one that had broken my heart. The one that ‘got away.’

“Just explain it to me,” Kara said, trying to be more even about it. “Please.”

I took a moment to breathe deeply. I wasn’t barred from telling her anything. I’d tried to warn her when she’d shown up at the driveway before, but the thought of all those protestors at risk for the virus pushed me over the edge of trying to warn her again. “Kara, the government gave me the choice of accepting a huge payout for the land, or them kicking me out and taking it by eminent domain. Either way, they were going to take it and take it fast. I could either ride it, or die fighting it.”

“So what are they doing with it?” she asked.

“Building homes,” I said. “A whole gated community, it sounds like. Part of my payout was housing for myself, Leo and Valerie.”

“What the fuck? Why do they want a gated community way out here?” she asked.

“Worst-case scenario shit,” I said.

“You mean the pandemic?” she asked. “Are you for fucking serious?”

“Serious enough that my house got bulldozed a couple days ago,” I said. “Gone. Like it was never even there.”

“This can’t be real,” Kara said. “This is absurd.”

“I told you that you wouldn’t believe me,” I said.

“Well, if you were too much of a pussy to stop them, we will,” Kara said, steeling herself again. “We’ll have the local news down here by tomorrow, and if the Feds show up we’ll have national news coverage by the end of the week.”

I had to try one more time. “Kara, this doesn’t end the way you want it to. You’re a dreamer, and I loved that about you when we were teens, but you know the real world doesn’t just work like that.”

Kara narrowed her eyes. “Where are you going right now?”

“What does that matter?” I asked.

“Because I just followed you out into the woods after your little construction girlfriend was talking to you,” she said.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I rolled my eyes.

“Tell her that. She’s flirting with you hard enough,” Kara said. “I can see her doing it.”

“Even if she was, what does that have to do with you?” I asked.

I knew I’d landed a blow because she got angry again. “Nothing,” she said. “But I still want to know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t have to tell you that, Kara,” I said. “I don’t answer to you, I don’t owe you anything, and I don’t worship the ground you walk on. All I’ve got to say now is that you should go send all those people home, and hope that you haven’t organized some super-spreader event here. For all the shit you’ve given me and my family, I don’t want to see them all dead. I don’t want to see you dead.”

Kara raised her bandanas again. “We’re fighting the good fight. We’re on the right side of this, Harrison. You’re not.” She turned and started walking back towards the road.

“Fuck me,” I sighed, shaking my head. That woman could still push my buttons almost fifteen years later.

I pressed through the forest, making for the edge of the property and then diverting towards the road. When I reached it, I found a white and brown heavy pickup identical to Vanessa’s idling on the gravel shoulder. The big guy in the driver’s seat rolled down his window a crack. “What’s up?”

“I’m Harrison Black,” I said.

Another guy got out of the passenger seat and came around, slapping the hood. “Head on back to the motel,” he said to the man in the truck. “I’ll catch a ride back with my daughter.”

The guy in the truck nodded and waited for us both to back away before pulling a U-Turn and taking off down the highway.

“So, you’re the land guy, eh?” the man said, turning and offering me his hand. He was exactly as Vanessa had described—portly to the point of obese, with a gruff exterior that spoke of years handling his business in a rough industry and getting shit done.

“I am,” I said, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. “Your daughter has been fantastic to work with. Helpful and on task, and she keeps her guys in line.”

“I have no doubt,” he said. “She grew up bossing her older brothers around and got the best of her mother and I. I’m Brent Peters, by the way. I’m sure we’ll be speaking every once in a while through this project.”

“Good to meet you, sir,” I said. “And I’m sure we will.”

I led Brent into the brush and got us through the roughest part until I could get us to one of the more used trails. It got a lot easier for him there, and once he had a chance to catch his breath he seemed to actually enjoy the chance to stretch his legs. He didn’t know, or at least wasn’t forthcoming, with any more information than Vanessa had been able to give about what was going on, but he did enjoy hearing about the sordid history of the land, my family and the Band.

It took a little longer than I’d thought it would to get back to the driveway, Brent needing a couple of breaks, but we made it eventually. Vanessa grinned when she saw her father in a way that made me think she was going to run to him and hug him, but she never made the move. I had to assume that was a hard-trained response from her years working with the man—hugging your pops on a job site would probably lead to taking a lot of shit from your coworkers.

Brent quickly got updated on the last hour of developments from Vanessa, and I saw his managerial side take over. Soon the line of construction workers were twenty yards back from the protestors, and he was stride-waddling forward with a medical mask stretched over his face. Kara met him halfway, and whatever they said seemed to go about as well as the talks I’d had with her myself. Again, she ended it by showing off for the protestors by giving him the double-birds.

“Well, that went well,” Brent sighed as he came back. “You were right, Harrison. They’re stuck in. Wouldn’t even help us get those trucks room to move or get out of the way of traffic.”

“She feels like she’s got leverage,” I guessed. “And they haven’t had that on us for years now.”

“Well, I’ve officially done what I can,” Brent said. “Time to do what every good GM does when shit like this happens.” He took out his phone and started walking up the driveway away from Vanessa and I.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Call the client and tell them to un-fuck the situation,” Vanessa smirked.

The rest of the afternoon and evening was a long fucking day. There was no good way to get the workers on site off of it, and no good way to get new ones on, so Leo and I ended up walking several groups through the trails to get to the road in places out of sight of the protestors. And since the big crew vans were parked on site, Brent ended up getting access to school buses to come and pick up his guys. The second to last bus dropped off a dozen men who would take over watching the driveway and the protestors overnight—we’d already seen them breaking out tents and lanterns to hold their vigil—and the last bus out had Brent and Vanessa on board.

“Client will be by in the morning,” Brent said, and winked at me. “Don’t you worry, bucko. You hold down the homefront tonight, and the cavalry will be here in no time.”

“You got it,” I said. “But whoever is coming, I suggest you make sure they know to take this seriously. The Band is riled up, and now they smell blood in the water. This isn’t going away easily.”

“I’ll pass that on to the Lieutenant Colonel,” Brent nodded. He shook my hand again and stepped onto the bus.

“See you tomorrow, H,” Vanessa grinned at me.

“Not if I see you first, Vee,” I chuckled. She stepped up into the bus and I heard her voice raise immediately. “Alright, you Gorillas. Grab your fuckin’ seats and stay there. I swear to Christ if one of you pisses me off, I’ll confiscate your fuckin’ dinner, got it?”

I laughed, and could see the construction workers grinning in their seats as the bus did a three-point turn and pulled away.

The sun was getting low when I finally hiked out of the bush and back into view of our little compound. Erica was waiting for me with a smile and a plate of stir fry. “What’s the word, Harri?”

“They’re still down there,” I said. “There are some workers keeping an eye on the driveway. Could you throw on a big pot of coffee for me and dig one of the thermoses out of storage?”

“Harri, if they’ve got some of their workers down there, it’s not your job to supervise. I’m sure Vanessa and her Dad left someone in charge.”

“They did,” I said. “And I’m not going down there. I’m staying up here.”

I shovelled the stirfry down, relishing in the spicy kick Erica liked to cook with. Inside our little compound I gave Ivy a kiss, apologizing that I wouldn’t be seeing her in bed for the night. Then I went to the storage container closest to my RV. The one with my gun safe.

“What’s the word?” Leo asked me when he found me. I had a lantern flashlight on and was loading rounds into my father’s Model 700. “Jesus, Harri. What the fuck?”

I doubted he was commenting on me loading the Remington hunting rifle. We’d used it plenty when we were hunting during deer season—it was a solid, reliable tool. No, I knew he was reacting to the other firearms I had out. My M9 was already holstered on my hip, a copy of my service sidearm that had served me so well through my tour and as an MP, and my DDM4V1 was laid out, waiting for me to do a quick check it was still in good order.

“Just taking precautions,” I said. I was already trying to get into the right mindset.

“What does that even mean? What are you doing?”

“There’s about a hundred protesters down there, last I counted. More keep arriving,” I told Leo, loading the last round into the 700 and checking the safety before setting it down. I fished a handful more .308’s out of the ammo box in the safe and fed them into the bandolier shoulder strap for the hunting rifle. “Problem is, they’re pissed off. Not just about the construction, but at all the other shit going on right now. And pissed-off people do dumb shit.”

“So what, you’re going to go all Alamo on us?” Leo asked. “For real, Harri. Nothing’s going to happen. They’re down there, we’re up here.”

“Leo,” I said. “I’m not asking you to do anything you don’t want to. The Bear shotgun is in my RV. Do me a favour and keep it handy tonight. If I miss something, I’d rather you have it than not.”

“Harri—”

“Dude, just stop,” I said. I’d finished with the .308s and started taking apart the DDM4V1 and giving it a quick clean. It was a budget purchase that I’d made prioritizing reliability over flashy shit, and the ‘scary one’ in my collection when it came to civilians. Erica hadn’t even liked the idea of me owning it when we gave her the tour of my firearms and taught her the safety protocols for them. Leo had only ever fired it once. Both of the siblings had said the same thing; ‘If you have the rifles and shotguns and the handgun, why do you need a machine gun?’

This sort of thing was why I needed it. And it wasn’t a ‘machine gun.’

“I’m not planning, or hoping, to kill someone tonight. If I have to use the DDM4 or my sidearm, something has gotten really fucked,” I said. “But I’m also not taking any chances. Sometime tonight, there’s going to be people sneaking up into the construction yard to cause mischief, and they aren’t going to know the difference between the construction yard and where we’re living. Maybe they hear us and they stay clear, or maybe they don’t. I’m not taking that chance.”

Leo watched me cleaning my rifle, and glanced out at the darkening sky, and then back to me. “What should I do?” he asked.

A wave of relief washed over me—it had been years since I’d served, and every instinct I had was telling me to do what I was doing, but that civilian part of my brain was second-guessing everything. Leo agreeing told me I was being logical, even if he didn’t like it or I turned out to be wrong.

“Just be with the girls tonight,” I said. “I can handle the yard, you stay with them. Think of it like a shitty tower defence game. If I do my job, you’ll never have to do anything.”

He nodded and left me to my work.

Surprisingly, it was Danielle who came to see me next. “What can I do to help?” she asked. Her Australian accent was sounding stronger, the California valley girl part of it dropping with her serious demeanour.

“Nothing, I’ve got it,” I said. She’d caught me as I was strapping on my ghillie suit—another item that Leo and Erica had found silly to own considering we didn’t need it for hunting deer. It had honestly been more of a gag item in my collection than anything until tonight.

“Harrison, I’ll remind you that my Dad was military, yeah?” she said. “I grew up outside the city. I know how to work a firearm.”

I took a breath and looked at her. Even at night, by the light of a lantern, she looked like an elven beauty despite the cutoff denim shorts and zippered knit sweater. “Can you handle a handgun?” I asked.

“I’ve shot the head of an Eastern Brown from ten paces away when it was threatening to bite my dog,” she said.

“I assume that’s a snake?”

“A fucking poisonous one,” Danielle said.

“Alright,” I nodded. “Under the passenger seat of my truck is a gun case with my pop’s old 1911 and a couple of magazines. Hang on to it for tonight. Try not to freak out Erica or Ivy, and if you hear shots tonight don’t let Leo come looking for me, let alone Erica and Ivy. If they leave the RVs it’ll just make things worse.”

“OK,” she said with a serious nod, then stepped towards me, hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks.”

“For what?” I asked as she stepped back.

“For being the man I figured you were,” she said. “Leo’s all mine and I’m happy with that, but like I told you—you remind me of all the good parts of my Dad. I’m glad I have Leo and you around.”

She left to fetch the pistol, and I finished strapping on the ghillie suit and slung my two rifles over my shoulders and closed the gun safe. When I was finished slamming the storage container closed, I turned around to find Ivy and Erica both looking at me with their arms crossed.

“Both of you, huh?” I asked.

“Yes, both of us,” Erica said.

“United front,” Ivy said.

“Look—”

“Shut up, Harrison,” Erica said, and then they were both hugging me while being careful around the firearms. “Just be careful.”

“Extra careful,” Ivy said, burying her face into the strings of the ghillie suit in my chest and then immediately pulling back with a wince. “Ugh, this smells terrible.”

“Yeah, well it’s not exactly the sort of thing you clean very often,” I shrugged.

“Whatever,” Erica said and kissed me. Ivy kissed me as well, looking at me with those big eyes of hers with concern.

“So you’re not going to try and convince me this isn’t necessary?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t do anything except lead to a fight we couldn’t win,” Erica said. “You’re too stubborn not to do it.”

“And too brave,” Ivy added.

“That too,” Erica smiled sadly. Then she handed me the big thermos of coffee. “Come back to us in one piece.”

“I will,” I said. “Don’t worry. But if you two hear anything tonight, if there’s any gunfire, don’t come looking for me. Just stay in the RVs and hunker down from the windows. If you come looking for me, you’ll add more danger and not take it away, alright?”

They both agreed, though I could tell Erica didn’t like it. I could only imagine her sprinting across the construction yard, bullets flying everywhere, screaming my name as she worried I’d been shot. Hell, she’d probably pick me up and carry me to safety if it were true, but she’d also likely never get to me in the first place if things were that bad.

I kissed them both again, then stalked off into the night.

I ended up settling into a nook on the side of the hill to the south of the construction yard, with a clear view of about two-thirds of the yard and most importantly the RV compound. I unslung my rifles and carefully positioned myself in a comfortable prone position I was going to be able to manage for a long time. I’d never gone through Sniper training, but I’d picked up enough from my Bootcamp, talking with other soldiers and from movies to know a thing or two—not to mention years of hunting. So I cracked the thermos and took a sip of the hot, strong coffee, and started my watch.

I saw them moving through the trees at around 02:30 in the morning down on the east side of the yard near the driveway. They must have skirted around the construction worker picket line and followed the driveway up, but they were still in the shadows so I couldn’t tell how many there were, or what they were carrying. The only reason I spotted them early at all was because someone was flicking a flashlight up occasionally.

I had the 700 cradled in my arms, and I slowly rolled into position but didn’t sight down the scope yet. I didn’t have any night vision gear, and while the simple Leupold scope easily gave me the range to tag anything moving down there, I wouldn’t know what I was hitting.

They stopped at the edge of the treeline, and I could only imagine the nerves they were feeling looking out over the open area. There were seven portables set up holding various offices now, and half a dozen big crew vans that had been left behind for the night along with some of the company pickup trucks. The pilings and supplies to erect the bigger barracks were also looming in the big, open space.

“Just take a look and leave,” I muttered quietly to myself, willing whoever was down there to not make this worse than it could be.

Five minutes went by before a figure began to creep out of the tree line, crossing the rise of the hill and slipping towards the yard. From the distance I was at, I couldn’t see them clearly enough other than to tell they were probably wearing a backpack—not a big deal in and of itself, but my training was screaming at me. ‘Anything’ meant anything. That backpack could hold weapons, or communications equipment, or even an IED.

I sighted in on the figure. It was a man, military age but young. I couldn’t see much of his face between the black bandana over his nose and mouth and a ball cap backwards on his head.

My finger tightened just a fraction on the trigger when I saw the flash of metal in his hand, but my hesitation saved his life—he was carrying a can of spray paint.

He reached what he thought was the shelter of the first building—and it was shelter if he thought a guard was patrolling inside the yard. But I wasn’t inside the yard, and instead I was looking at him dead on along the length of the building as he took off his backpack and then turned, motioning back towards the treeline. A half dozen more figures began quickly creeping across the hillside.

I had a choice—if that backpack was full of spraypaint and that was all they were there to do, it would be annoying vandalism at worst as long as they didn’t approach the compound. If any of them were carrying other tools of vandalism or had darker thoughts about them, it was going to be a lot harder to deal with them a minute from now.

And then there was the history of the thing.

My family had defended this land for six generations, including from small raiding parties of the Band during the worst and darkest parts of our history. Men had died on both sides, but so had women. Badly.

History is a powerful motivator, especially with so many If’s rolling around in my head.

I sighted in and pulled the trigger. The boom of the rifle was especially loud in the still of the night air, and I heard it echo back to me three times off of the surrounding hills.

The bullet hit the cannister the man had set down on the ground, and the spray can immediately erupted in a spray of bright blue paint as it spun from the impact and the release of aerosol, coating the ground, the man and some of the wall of the building. The man recoiled with a scream, and later on I would see that there was a beautiful, cartoon-like outline of him with his arms up in a panic on the wall. The others split their decision-making—three immediately turned and began sprinting back to the tree line, while the other three dove into the dirt trying to take cover.

I could have killed them. Just pop, pop, pop. It would have been easy.

But as the blue-painted man stumbled around trying to clear his eyes, calling for help, I watched as his friends tried to beckon him back over to them without standing up. Finally, one of them—the one I probably respected the most, though I would never know who he or she was, got up and ran to him, grabbing him and hauling him back towards the trees. The other two followed, and then they were gone. I waited five minutes, watching the treelines for lights or movement, before I thumbed open my phone with the brightness turned all the way down and texted the group chat. ‘All good. Warning shot only.’

I immediately got two hearts from Erica and Ivy, and Danielle started typing, but my phone started buzzing in my hand with a phone call from Vanessa.

“Hey,” I answered with a whisper.

“Harrison, why the fuck is my Dad waking me up asking me to call you about a gunshot?”

“Because I shot at some people sneaking onto the site,” I said.

“You shot someone on the site!?!”

“No, I- listen to me. I fired a warning shot and they ran off. No one is injured… I think.”

“What does ‘I think’ mean?”

“Well, one guy might have damaged vision from getting spray paint in his eyes,” I said.

“..... Harrison, what the fuck?”

“Just tell your Dad I’ve got it handled. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Alright. You better not fuck me here,” she grumbled.

I smirked. “Not unless you ask very nicely,” I said.

“Oh my god, this is why I don’t wake up at three in the fucking morning ’cause I say dumb phrasing like that. Good night. Again.”

She hung up as I chuckled softly.

I abandoned my post at 06:30 when the sun was peeking well over the horizon. Usually, the first groups of workers would already be arriving on site, but obviously today was going to be different. When I trudged into the compound I found Erica awake, sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs and she gave me a tired smile. Ivy was sitting beside her in another chair, curled up with a blanket over her.

“Welcome home,” Erica said, sitting up and yawning.

“Good morning,” I said. “How late did she stay up?”

“About five am,” Erica said. “Kids these days don’t know how to party all night.”

I snorted. “Let me get this shit put away, and I’ll move her to the bed.”

And I would have done just that, but as I was unloading my firearms I heard the telltale staccato thwumpthwumpthwump of an incoming helicopter. As I stepped back outside, rings of cold and clammy sweat on the shirt I’d worn under the ghillie suit, Erica, Leo, Ivy and Danielle all came out of the compound to join me as we watched an HH60 Pave Hawk coming in for a landing. As the helicopter engine began to whine loudly while it powered down, I led the others as we approached.

Several soldiers immediately hopped out of the Air Force-branded helicopter, each one in proper fatigues with all the correct identification patches—it almost made me proud to see an actual military uniform after the shady fatigues the OGAs had been wearing. Then the officers climbed out of the helicopter.

They were both in service dress uniform rather than fatigues, and both women looked around shrewdly with narrowed eyes as they took in the rough construction site, our compound tucked away in the back corner, and our ragtag group of strippers, artists and one carpenter.

I sucked in a breath, assuming my most military stance despite my likely dishevelled appearance, and marched up to the two officers as they approached us. One was carrying a briefcase in one hand and a leatherbound clipboard in the other—she had Captain bars on her shoulder, and if I had to guess at a glance she was an established attache for the other woman. My march brought me right up to within five feet of the two, and I snapped to attention in front of the Lieutenant Colonel. She was a woman with broad shoulders and a powerful, confident stance that almost hid her hourglass figure. She had thick brunette hair pulled back into a tight bun, and she had a somewhat dusky complexion as if she’d gotten too much sun. But I knew that was just her natural colouring.

Lt. Col Miriam Abarbanel slowly, cleanly, returned my salute and we lowered our arms. Then she took off the medical mask that was hiding her face and broke into a smile that reached up into her hazel eyes. She stepped forward and wrapped me up in a hug, kissing me on the cheek. “It’s good to see you, Harri,” she said as I squeezed her back.

“You too, Miriam,” I said. “Congratulations on your promotion.”

She leaned back from the hug, still smiling. “More rank, more problems. You know how it is.”

“I don’t, thankfully,” I grinned. “What are you doing here?”

She took in a long breath and looked around us again. “I’m here to threaten a bunch of US civilians to back the fuck off, or they’ll all be arrested and held on charges of treason,” she said, her smile slipping. “How’s your morning going?”

“I shot at someone last night,” I said. “So I think you’re up on me, but not by much.”

“I’m going to need you to explain that in more detail,” the other woman said, stepping forward.

“Harrison Black,” Miriam said, stepping back and releasing my arms. “This is Captain Laura Bloomberg, a Judges’ advocate with the Air Force. Captain, I’ve already debriefed you on Mr Black’s record, but I should let you know—Harrison saved my life and dignity once upon a time. So go easy on him, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t go easy on anyone, ma’am,” Captain Bloomberg said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Too true,” Miriam nodded. “Alright, let’s say hello to everyone, then you can get me a briefing on the ground here. And please, dear God, tell me you have some coffee brewing. It’s about to be one hell of a long morning.”