Jon Wick's forest cabin had no shower. So Gunsuke led the girls down a narrow dirt trail, through rocky terrain and thick pine woods, to a stream about three hundred meters from the cabin. The path wound through shrubs and deep greenery. Gunsuke carried his usual Kukki rifle and a machete in hand, brushing branches aside like a cautious hunter scanning for threats.
Mari trailed close behind, carrying a KRISS Vector—its compact design and rapid 1,000-round-per-minute rate of fire suited her petite frame. Molly had an M14 semi-auto rifle slung over her shoulder along with a pair of handcuffs—why she brought those, not even Gunsuke knew. Issie carried an AK-47, which Gunsuke suspected she favored due to her Russian heritage. Mindaa, who brought up the rear, was small but insisted on using a full-length rifle. The folding-stock HK G36 allowed her to move without being encumbered by the bulk.
"Keep your weapons close," Gunsuke reminded them, but it was already too late. The crystal-clear water of the stream had instantly erased any remaining focus on combat. They had each fired nearly two hundred rounds that day, and the lingering gunpowder residue, especially around their faces and chests, made them feel sticky and grimy.
Mindaa, Issie, and Molly shed their clothes without hesitation, as if they were forest nymphs laying down their wings beside an enchanted pool. Gunsuke smiled faintly, but his thoughts raced with restrained desire. He wanted to join them in the water with every fiber of his being, but his hand gripping the rifle reminded him of his duty. He took a deep breath, focusing his gaze across the stream like a vigilant sentry, resisting the temptation to watch their glistening bodies too closely.
"Aren't you going to bathe with us, Gunsuke?" Mari called sweetly as she fumbled with the clasp of her bra, delayed slightly by her sore shoulder from shooting.
"I'm a clean man," he replied. "And clean men don't need to bathe that often."
His body flushed as he caught sight of Mari's firm, round chest when she turned. Her expression showed slight disappointment at his refusal.
"Okay then. Could you help me with the clasp?" she asked coyly, turning her back to him. He undid it carefully, and she sighed with relief as it came free.
"I wish you'd join us," she said, stepping out of her underwear and revealing a perfectly shaped backside as she walked toward the water.
Gunsuke swallowed hard.
...That deserves a spanking...
Smack. He gave her right cheek a light slap.
"Ow… Gunsuke! Don't tease me," she said with a flirty smirk and a sultry tone.
"Come on, Mari! The water's cold!" Molly called from the stream, already submerged.
"If you change your mind, you know where to find us," Mari said over her shoulder with a wink.
"Whew..." Gunsuke exhaled deeply as he watched Mari and Mindaa floating in the water. Their pale skin shimmered like light bouncing off polished stone, their small waists and ample curves bobbing gently with the current, creating ripples that spread outward.
There was something primal about their wild beauty, unfiltered under the open sky. Watching Issie and Molly scrub each other's backs brought to mind images of elven maidens from fantasy legends. If he'd ever read fairy tales, he would've imagined himself as the rifle-wielding huntsman standing watch over celestial nymphs—not lustful, but determined to protect them. That was the real reason he was here. They knew it too. His presence gave them comfort.
____
Quiet Lives in the Grass
"The silence dwells in the grass—beneath each blade—in the blue gaps between the stones..."
Lemo gently closed the small brown leather-bound poetry book by Rolf Jacobsen and tucked it into his chest pocket.
One of the few gifts cancer had given him, he mused, was the clarity to appreciate helping others more than ever before. Maybe he had a year or two left without radiation therapy—or maybe the zombies or monsters lurking in the city would end it sooner.
What you take with you into battle... is the reason you fight.
He remembered that quote from military academy. That was why he was here. The pain in his chest had faded, thanks to the meds. And seeing the girls and Gunsuke walking back toward the cabin made his remaining days feel all the more worthwhile.
"Dinner's ready," he called out to Gunsuke, who arrived at the door last.
Lemo had turned turkey liver into a forest delicacy using salt, pepper, onion, coriander, garlic, and potatoes from Jon Wick's garden. He'd added wild mushrooms to the liver soup, and herbs to the stewed turkey. The aroma was rich, earthy, and impossible to ignore.
"Whoa, that smells amazing!""So tasty!" the girls' voices chimed from inside, warming Lemo's heart. The joy of feeding others was, indeed, one of life's best feelings.
"You're not eating with us?" Gunsuke asked, concerned at the sight of Lemo sitting just outside the door. The evening air was getting cold.
"I want to watch the sunset a little longer," Lemo said softly, smiling.
He leaned back in his chair and gazed at the orange sky disappearing beyond the ridgeline.
Life becomes long—if you know how to live it, he recalled, thinking of a wise philosopher's words.
And then, slowly, he stood and walked inside, joining the girls who were laughing and enjoying his herbal turkey stew.