NTR Rogue in the Apocalypse-Chapter 193: Two Broken People

The two of them sneaked behind a truck and peered at the building. It was an old steel mill, and it was filled with soldiers and vehicles.

"It’s an outpost," Octavia whispered, "but why?"

"Not sure," John muttered.

"Do you have a plan?"

John sighed and closed his eyes.

’Should we ambush them or break in? Maybe both?’ He wondered.

"I’ll leave a Web of Whispers here. If there’s a ship, I’ll know, but for now, let’s keep looking."

"Sounds good. Let’s go."

After about an hour of walking, John and Octavia sat down for a break in an abandoned apartment.

"Are you alright, Octavia? I feel like you’ve been distant lately," John asked.

Octavia nodded, her eyes fixed on the floor.

"Really, tell me."

Octavia glanced up and shrugged, "I don’t want your pity, John. I’m not weak or useless."

John sighed, "again with that? It’s not pity, Octavia. We care for each other."

"Not sure if you’re the right man for that role, but whatever floats your boat," Octavia quipped, her face creased with a faint frown.

"Look, you’re hurt and you can’t deny it. You’re a strong woman, but even the toughest warriors have moments of vulnerability."

Octavia remained silent and turned her gaze to the window, the orange glow of the setting sun reflecting off her face.

She watched the cars and people passing by, the dull roar of their engines and the idle chatter mingling with the whistling wind, but those were mirages. It was her mind bringing her back to a time when her biggest worry was where she would be taking her brother on their next holiday.

Octavia, born into a military family, joined the force young and became a fierce warrior. She rose through the ranks and found herself leading a team of soldiers. Her strength and dedication to the job were admired and respected.

When the apocalypse hit, she was tasked with helping survivors to a refugee camp.

Octavia sighed and turned back to him.

"You know what, I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to help."

John’s lips curled into a smile, "it’s fine. How about we celebrate?"

John said as he summoned a bottle of wine from his inventory.

"I’d tell you to bring out the heavy hitters instead of wine, but it’s a shame we can’t," she chuckled.

"Nonsense. This will do."

The two of them took a sip and savoured the taste. The wine was fruity and smooth, and the alcohol hit their bellies, warming them.

"Ahh, this is the life," she smiled.

John smiled back, watching the flames dance in the fireplace.

A few moments later, Octavia sat down on the couch, her face flushed.

"Hey hey, don’t tell me you’re drunk already. I thought you weren’t a lightweight."

Octavia smirked and leaned forward, "maybe I’ll tell you my story and we can form a little bond, deal?"

John’s smile widened and he held out his glass.

Octavia clinked her glass against his.

"So, I’m a product of a military family and I’ve always wanted to be a warrior. Of course, that was just the result of watching too many action movies," she chuckled and sipped her wine.

"Well, you made your dream come true. You are definitely a warrior now," John said, his voice hushed.

"I am, aren’t I?"

She looked at the floor, a slight sadness creeping into her expression, and John decided to speak up, "Tell me. I can handle it."

"When I was younger, I was diagnosed with a condition that left me physically weak. It was a debilitating disease and I couldn’t do anything. The only thing that kept me alive was the will to live. I pushed myself every day to get stronger and eventually, I managed to overcome it."

"I understand. Being weak, vulnerable and helpless can be tough," John sighed.

Octavia smiled weakly and nodded.

"You wouldn’t know, though. What could John the badass know about being weak?"

John rolled his eyes, "just because you haven’t seen it, it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen."

Octavia quirked an eyebrow, "is there a story to this?"

"Oh? Are we in that stage of alcoholism already? Sharing depressive stories?"

Octavia smiled and finished her glass, "maybe we are. Please tell me"

John heaved a deep sigh, "fine, but please don’t laugh."

"Laugh? Are you kidding me? My story was pathetic, too."

"Hmmm, maybe."

"I may have experienced something similar."

"Really?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Tell me, John. I would really like to know."

"Well, unlike you, I had no illnesses holding me back. I was simply weak because I was, I guess."

"Damn. So, what happened?"

John told Octavia his life story. He told her about his family, how he knew Dalia, and lastly, the bullying and how he knew Jolene’s ex.

Octavia gasped, her eyes widening at the horrific abuse John had suffered.

"Oh my god, John. I can’t even imagine what you went through."

"It was tough. But then, my mentor, Charles, found me and gave me the opportunity to change my fate and become strong."

John smiled as his mentor’s image popped into his mind, his muscular frame, gruff voice, and caring eyes were all still vivid memories in his mind.

"That damn old geezer was more than a mentor to me. He was the closest thing I ever had to a father. He treated me well, gave me the opportunities I couldn’t have had. He taught me martial arts, knife handling, and basic survival skills."

"Damn. So, I guess you don’t hate your life right now?"

"WAIT!" Octavia gasped, "Is that why you took Jolene from her boyfriend? As revenge?"

John chuckled. He was drunk now and feeling playful.

"Of course! He deserved it," John laughed and poured himself another drink.

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"Well, that explains a lot," she murmured.

John stared at her and giggled.

She started giggling as well, "are you okay?"

"I’m drunk now."

Octavia nodded, "we should probably stop drinking."

"Yeah, we should," John said and they shared a brief moment. A smile on their faces and a growing bond between two broken people.