No signs of life 3 – The woods

After an apocalypse, a teenager gets to fuck the boy of his dreams, but it comes at a massive price.

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No signs of life 3 – The woods

The next morning I awoke with a strange sense of optimism. It was the first time I had dared to consider the future with anything but a sense of foreboding. I got out of bed and moved the chair from the door. I opened it and glanced at the other side. I don’t know what I expected to see; claw marks I guess. I’d watched FAR too many zombie movies.

I walked into my parent’s room and Ellis was lying with his eyes shut. For a dreadful moment the thought occurred that he might have died in his sleep. Then I saw the covers moving slightly as he breathed and I have never been so relieved. The thought of being rescued from a lifetime alone by the one boy in the all the world that I had loved from afar was almost enough to make me start believing in God. Almost. And then to lose him. Well, that would have been evidence of the capriciousness that ensured I didn’t believe in the first place.

I moved close and pulled back the covers.

“Ellis time to get up.”

His eyes opened slowly, and he blinked adorably as he adjust to the light, and for a moment he almost seemed like a normal boy rather than the near-zombie that the Blank Virus had created.

“Get up Ellis.”

I always used his name. It was a habit I had quickly gotten into to avoid ambiguity.

It always amused me when I watched Star Trek and the eternally vigilant ship’s computer needed careful prefixing of all commands with the word “Computer” but then people could have casual conversations with it, and each other, leaving long pauses, and it always recognised that it was still being addressed. I always felt that the crew should have to finish with something like “End conversation” so that it wasn’t eavesdropping on their every conversation.


Ellis sat up and I noticed with great amusement that he had a boner.

“Ha ha, nice morning wood Ellis!”

He showed no reaction.

“Wait there,” I commanded, and rushed off to my bedroom, returning 30 seconds later with a plastic ruler.

“Stand up Ellis.”

He stood. I looked down at his hard cock. It was tiny. I mean, I already knew it was small soft, but it never occurred to me that it would be so tiny hard. I gripped his cock and pressed the transparent ruler against his pubis.

“Four inches.”

I released his cock. It was adorable. I wasn’t really into small cocks. Or large ones. I was still at the age where I was happy if I got to see ANYONE’S cock in the flesh. But Ellis was really small, even for his age. I wondered again if anyone had ever seen him naked. I very much doubted he made a habit of letting many people see his stumpy little boner. But maybe he was one of those guys who just didn’t give a shit, and refused to be embarrassed by something he had no control over.

His cock twitched and jumped. It surprised me. I didn’t think that was something that could happen unless you were conscious.

“Ellis, go to the bathroom and use the toilet. Take piss and have a shit if you need to.”

I wanted to see if he could cope with more complex commands.

He walked into the bathroom and urinated standing up. More went on the floor than in the bowl. I made a mental note not to send him to the bathroom when he had a boner in future. I wasn’t sure if he simply didn’t need to void his bowels or he could not cope with complex commands. Then I remembered my command to him the day before. He couldn’t process choices.

“Go and get dressed then carefully come downstairs Ellis.”

I watched him. He dressed then came downstairs. Multi-part commands seemed fine.

I made him breakfast and we sat to eat. Then something occurred to me.

“Ellis, what’s your name?”

It was a stupid question but I wanted to hear the sound of his voice.

“Ellis,” he replied without hesitation.

I was elated! It was only a single word, but it seemed to chase the emptiness of our world a little further away. I hadn’t expected him to answer at all, and if he did I thought it would be slow and a little distorted like a retarded person. Is it okay to say that? Retarded? I guess the oversensitive, eager-to-take-offence social justice warriors are all gone now too. That’s one good thing.

As it happened, Ellis’ voice was perfectly clear, perfectly normal. He had a husky tone; the voice of a teenager whose body has not yet settled into being a man, and whose vocal chords were not making the transition smoothly.

“Can you understand me Ellis?”


“Where do you live Ellis?”

“43 Cedar Ridge.”

“Are you feeling alright?”

No answer.

“Ellis, are you feeling alright?”

Again silence.

My hopes of having normal conversations with him evaporated, as I realised that Ellis’ mind was working like one of those question answering programs. It was fine within pre-programmed parameters, but it had no ability to reason or ask questions of itself.

I was saddened for Ellis and for myself. I was certain that some part of him remained conscious inside, but it was like there was a short circuit preventing him from interacting fully.

He looked at me blankly and I smiled back at him kindly.

“Eat your breakfast Ellis.”


Over the next couple of days, Ellis and I continued to explore the neighbourhood. I was fearful that if I caught the virus and blanked, he would be left in my house alone to die. I know that I would also be left helpless to suffer the same fate, but now that I had taken responsibility for him, I couldn’t bear the thought of him ending up like that. If I had to die, I’d rather do it in his company.

I realised that he was more than capable of carrying stuff, so it doubled the rate at which I could gather supplies. He was also able to help out carrying and doing the heavy labour as I continued to expand the vegetable garden. I didn’t trust him with the tools. I thought about the way he had peed all over the bathroom floor, and I had visions of him sticking a garden fork through his foot or chopping his toes off with a spade.

I extended the garden into our neighbour’s yards on both directions. Winters were usually pretty brutal, so growing all year round was not an option and I wanted to avoid using our canned and packet supplies any more than necessary.


The weather was warm and both Ellis and I worked without tops on: me by choice, and him because I’d ordered it. After a couple of days, I could see that he was starting to get a nice tan. He was also covered with a sheen of sweat. Personal hygiene had not been a high priority, but with two of us working and living in close proximity, we were starting to smell a bit musky. I decided to take a chance.

On the fourth day after I found him, I grabbed a bar of soap, a bottle of shampoo, deodorant and a towel along with snacks and water, and stuffed them into a backpack.

I put on a pair of hiking boots and made sure Ellis was dressed the same. My final preparation was to gather my father’s hunting rifle. He didn’t hunt often and I’d never done it although he had taught me how to shoot.

I shouldered it on its strap and we set off into the woods.


We hiked for 90 minutes, moving slowly. I was cautious because I didn’t want to pressure Ellis into injuring himself. Nor did I want to take chances with my own safety.

Eventually, the pine forest parted and we were greeted by running water. The river was shallow, no more than a foot deep in most places, but over a hundred feet wide. It ran over a bed of gravel and water-smoothed rocks.

I put the pack down and took out its contents.

“Ellis take your clothes off.”

I was surprised that he could undo the laces of his boots without help. I wondered if he would also be able to tie them.

He stripped nude and I did the same, then I took the bar of soap and walked into the slow flowing water. In spite of the 85 degree temperature, it was still cold; not simply in contrast to the temperature of my warm skin, but objectively. It had come down from the mountains, and in places, they remained snow capped all year round.

I washed myself thoroughly, cleaning off a month worth of sweat and body odour. It’s amazing how quickly such things cease to matter without people around to care about.

The water was so cold that my dick quickly shrivelled, its foreskin tightening. I looked down at my pale cock. It was curved downwards and looked like I had a semi, but it was just the temperature. I grinned.

When I was clean I called out to Ellis.

“Ellis come into the water. Be VERY careful where you step.”

He carefully picked his way towards me then stopped  in front of me. I considered instructing him to wash himself, but it was an opportunity to enjoy his body, and I took advantage.

I lathered the soap, then washed him from head to toe, spending way too long on his genitals than was necessary. He stood patiently as I washed him. His already small cock shrivelled still further, and his nuts rose, forming a tight knot beneath that was no larger than a ping pong ball.

When I had washed and rinsed him, I poured water over his head.

“Ellis shut your eyes.”

I shampooed his hair, then carefully washed and rinsed it. It was thick, but the strands were fine and silky. They stuck to his face. I pushed the wet clumped strands away from his eyes.

“Okay Ellis, you can open your eyes.”

He did so and our eyes met. For a brief moment I hoped that there was something there, but I quickly realised that he was not interacting; his gaze met mine simply because that’s where I had been standing when his eyes opened.

I washed my own hair, and when I was done, I looked at him. His skin was covered in goosebumps and he was shivering.

I splashed water in his face with a smile.

“You look cold, let’s get dried off.”


It hadn’t been a question but he had responded to me nevertheless. I was fearful of reading too much into it, but I felt that surge of optimism again.

I lead him from the river with my arm around his shoulder. I dried us both. It was late afternoon, still hot. We would have comfortably drip dried in ten minutes, but I didn’t want to wait to get dressed again. For a moment, I considered just putting on our boots and walking home nude. Although I hadn’t seen a living soul since mom died, I still thought like a person in an occupied world, and the thought of bumping into somebody whilst we were both naked deterred me. I looked down at Ellis’ undersized package. It would probably bother him even more if he was still aware of such things.


“Ellis, lift you arms above your head.”

He raised his arms and I squirted deodorant under each arm. He was smooth. I never noticed what age I had started to grow underarm hair, 13, 14 maybe. It seemed like Ellis was a particularly late bloomer. His small genitals and tiny pubic bush all seemed to confirm it. In the past, that might have really bothered him, but now, with just the two of us, it was almost irrelevant.

“Get dressed Ellis.”

I sprayed under my own arms and dressed, finishing before him.


The light was golden and the forest was vibrant with the constant buzz sound of insects and the sound of wildlife moving through the undergrowth. In stark contrast to the world of humans, the forest had never seemed more alive.

We walked home even more slowly than we had come. I was on alert for bears, but we mostly walked slowly because I was enjoying the journey with Ellis. I chatted constantly to him about my plans for our future, the garden, and whether we should seek out other survivors in the city. I was so happy just to have some company.

“I know this sounds weird Ellis,” I told him, “especially as you and me hardly ever talked at school, but I’ve always liked you. More than liked you. Since the first day I saw you. I’m gay Ellis. Maybe that might freak you out, but I guess it doesn’t matter as much now as it used to.”

We walked in silence. I might not have revealed that to him had the virus never happened. In a smallish town, attitudes can be decades behind those of the cities.

“Stop walking Ellis.”

He obeyed.

“I just wanted to let you know, I’m so happy that I was able to save you.”

I hugged him, standing there in the forest, for a good 30 seconds before we continued walking.


As we neared the edge of the forest there was a sudden rush of activity ahead. I looked up, surprised and on instant alert. Small animals were fleeing a spot ahead.

“Wait here Ellis.”

I unslung my rifle and approached cautiously, keeping one ear out in Ellis’ direction. There were two bodies on the ground, both male; an adult and a child. Both were on their backs, and from the positions of their bodies, both had collapsed there. I wondered how two people had managed to blank in the same spot. Then I realised the horrible truth. The adult had probably been leading the child who was most likely already blanked. Then he had also been stricken. Both had remained motionless, purposeless until they had collapsed. The boy was perhaps 7 or 8 judging by the size of his body, but the animals had been at him, tearing at the soft tissues of his face and body, leaving him almost unrecognisable.

The man, probably his father, had also been assaulted by the animals, but not enough to make him unrecognisable. He was Mr Stanton, the father of one of my friends. I stared at the tableau in horror. It was a stark reminder of the risk that I was taking in leading Ellis out into the forest.

I stared at the bodies, morbidly transfixed, and then my horror was compounded. The man’s chest was still moving feebly. In spite of being half eaten, he was still alive, but beyond all hope. I pointed my rifle at his head and pulled the trigger. It made a neat hole in his temple and Mr Stanton’s chest stopped moving.

I examined the boy. He was utterly motionless but I put a bullet into his head too just to be certain. The thought of leaving the little boy alone and conscious in the woods to the animals was more than I could bear.


I returned to Ellis.

“A wounded animal,” I lied. “Caught in an old trap. I put it out of its misery.”

I lead Ellis far around the bodies. After the loss of his own brother, I didn’t want him to have to see.


We walked back to the house. I was in a sombre mood and barely spoke.

I made dinner and we ate to the sound of a Rihanna album. It did little to lift my mood. I lead Ellis upstairs, instructed him to use the toilet and undress for bed, but this time, instead of sending him to my parent’s room, I ordered him into my bed. He climbed in naked, and I climbed in naked beside him. I needed body warmth tonight. As I spooned behind him, I brushed his silky hair backwards with my hand. I wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled us close, tucking my face into the exposed nape of his neck.

I whispered in his ear, “Please come back Ellis. I need you.”

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