Our band tumbled off the train huddling close. There were big red signs everywhere, "Persons with compromised immunity, diabetes, or obesity, must quarantine." Worse, the ambulances were carting away several bodies in large black bags. We even saw some large geriatric lady drop dead mid-stride.
Cindy clutched Mathis' hand, gesturing to her pregnant belly, "Do you think this counts as obese?"
Gravely, he shook his head 'no', then added, "But Jimmy here's got diabetes."
They all looked at me concerned. Pale as a sheet, I returned their stares, "It's probably type 2 diabetes that they're talking about. Type 1 is completely different." I wasn't as sure as I sounded: it was an immune disorder.
Steve spoke up with a take charge attitude, "We better get off the street. To the hotel now!"
We listened to him in a far different way than we had listened to Cindy earlier. Cindy had beguiled us. But as an almost doctor, we trusted Steve to be right. The previous in-charge Cindy followed Steve as our new leader just as quickly as the rest of us.
Walking at a near running pace we passed an animal hospital. "Wait! Before we go to the hotel I need to go here!"
No one understood, but they saw my desperation and went in with me.
Compared to the train station, the streets and vet's offices were deserted. Only the old veterinarian himself was there. I approached the counter and he motioned for me to tighten my mask.
I explained to him that I was a type 1 diabetic and only had one cartridge of insulin left. I'd been calling all the pharmacies and few had any, the rest were rationing it by lottery. I begged and pleaded for him to help. Surely he could spare some that was intended for the cats.
He was sympathetic, but worried he would lose his license. Dejected, I turned away. It was then that Cindy stepped up to the plate. She stroked his arm seductively and whispered in his ear. A moment later she told us she'd be right back.
They disappeared into an empty exam room, and when they returned, she looked disheveled, he looked satisfied, and she was waving a vial of insulin which she pressed into my hand. I'll never forget what she did for me.
At our hotel we were all crammed into one suite with two convertable beds in the living room. Shell-shocked we fell onto the couches. I could barely express the depth of my gratitude to Cindy.
She rested her head on my shoulder, "James, we're friends now - anytime."
That night she developed a new respect for the nerdy Steve. They even slept in the same bed - to keep up appearances. But I saw how she backed into his body when he spooned her.
I had no desire to spoon with Mathis, nor he with me. But early in the wee hours of the morning I needed something to take my mind off of the outside world. Quietly, I reached into his underwear causing his beastly cock to stir.
I was planning to head South, to suck the cream from his dick, but he woke up and stopped me. Looking into my eyes, he gestured for me to be quiet, then reached his hand into my sweatpants as well.
Together we stroked each other's cocks, not making a sound. In a few minutes he tugged our pants down and rubbed our cockheads against each other until our jizz mixed together in a single orgasmic puddle.
He was holding his breath, trying not to pant or moan when we shot our loads. Coming close to me he whispered in my ear, "You better destroy the evidence before Steve wakes up." I don't know why he was so shy after all we'd been though. But I crawled down to ingest the goopy puddle and clean off his cock anyway. When I emerged from under the covers Cindy winked at me mirthfully from across the room.
We were stuck in our room until our preflight interviews. We watched the news endlessly. We finally concluded that none of us were remotely likely to catch the spreading virus which targeted the obese almost exclusively. Why did none of the endless parade of experts advise people to lose weight?
Meanwhile, the vet ran out of insulin and the ER was hit or miss. I switched to a low carb diet to extend my dwindling supply.
Food was delivered by soldiers daily. They were as cavaliere as they could be: their masks were loose, their jumpers were ripped, and I even saw one move his mask to pick his nose. They certainly weren't worried.
Meanwhile, the body bags were displayed on the telly hourly - they were all fat. The contrast was bizarre. The lies of omission were too great to ignore. Mathis said there was a plot to kill all the fat people to save the government money. I figured him for a conspiracy theorist.
Various combinations of us snuck into the bathroom for secret rendezvous. Every permutation we could do without Steve, who wasn't aware of our twisted arrangement.
This continued for a couple weeks until the day Steve walked in on Cindy blowing Mati. They'd continued to sleep together, fully clothed, but Steve nevertheless had developed feelings for her.
He freaked out before getting sullen. After a day of trying to assuage his hurt feelings she brought him in on our secret, asking him if he wanted to participate. He didn't relate to our warped sensibilities, but sex with Cindy outside of a relationship was better than nothing at all.
When she dropped the bomb he balked, but went along with it in the end. She started, "Steve, you're our Rock of Gibraltar. We all lean on you to tell us what's going on in this topsy turvy world. We need your leadership in trying times."
