Has the Rescue Arrived?

The next morning.

Howard was spooning Miranda from behind, lifting one of her beautiful legs high with one hand while threading his other leg between hers, his lower abdomen pressed tightly against her perky buttocks.

His penis was slowly wriggling.

Miranda exhaled softly, her face flushed and her eyes hazy with ecstasy, still holding the little black cat that was sound asleep in her arms.

Feeding her willingly is a good habit.

Feeding Miranda well each morning so she could be energetic and ready to fight all day long.

The stored energy liquid could continuously replenish her stamina lost in battle.

At that moment, Quinn walked in sleepily.

Indeed, she had slept on the sofa last night, and upon waking, the first image that came to her mind was not of Cyril, but of Howard.

So, the first thing she did upon waking was, as if possessed, to go into the bedroom, only to see this scene.

"Ah, sorry, I came at the wrong time!"

Quinn quickly covered her blushing face with both hands.

"No, you've come at just the right time! She's already full, she just likes sticking close to me, now it's your turn!"

Howard playfully pushed Miranda's pert buttocks away and pulled Quinn by the hand, making her bend over.

Gurgle! Gurgle!

He poured the results of his prior warm-up efforts all into Quinn.

She, satisfied, licked and sniffed his penis, then sucked a few times, cleaning it thoroughly.

Then, she carefully, as if handling a precious piece of art, tucked it away.

Afterward, she helped Howard get dressed. "Ah!"

Just as Quinn finished helping Howard get dressed, she suddenly noticed a chaotic pile of blankets on the bed from which a smooth, snow-white leg and a delicate, pink little foot emerged.

It was like a little girl's foot, seemingly untouched and pure as if it had never experienced the dirt of the world.

"What's happening?"

Howard and Miranda, beside him, turned around following Quinn's gaze.

There was only a pile of blankets, nothing else.

"Uh? Is there something there?!" Miranda asked alertly.

"I... I saw a foot sticking out from under the quilt!" Quinn said nervously, gripping Howard's burly arm tightly.

"Under the quilt?" Miranda looked puzzled.

She and Howard had embraced and slept through the night, even having close physical contact under the quilt.

What else could there be?

She reached out gently, grabbed the corner of the quilt, and then flung it open.

"Meow!"

Suddenly, a shadow dashed out, jumped onto Howard's head, and tilted its head to look at Miranda.

She didn't know what it was searching for.

"Oh, it's Glisson, remember? The little pet we adopted last night!" Howard said, cradling

Glisson's front paws gently and rubbing it.

"Meow!" Glisson stuck out its little tongue and licked Howard's forehead in response.

"Glisson? But... I clearly saw a little girl's leg just now!"

"Could it be that I didn't rest well and saw things?" Quinn, rubbing her hair and tilting her head, felt it was incredible.

"There couldn't be anyone else; right now, it's only the two of us, and maybe there will be more in the future, but right now, he belongs to both of us!" Miranda said softly, comforting Quinn while holding her shoulders.

"Yeah, maybe I got up too early and didn't see clearly!" Quinn smiled and didn't dwell on it.

The three of them walked out from the guest room next door.

After all, Cyril was sleeping in the room; who knew if he would wake up in the middle of the night?

It would have been fine if only Howard was there, as Miranda and Quinn were with him.

Even if Quinn was Cyril's fiancée, what if Cyril saw a bit too much of her thigh while she was sleeping?

"He must sleep in the same room with us!" Therefore, the three of them had cleared the zombies from the neighboring room and spent the night there. At this moment, Cyril was still in a deep slumber, snoring heavily until a series of urgent phone rings woke him up.

"Hello!" Cyril answered the phone groggily.

"Is this Cyril?" An icy female voice came through the phone, carrying an unmistakable tone of authority.

"Who is this?" Cyril asked, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

On the other end, it seemed very noisy; the sound of music thudding could be heard, as if someone was watching an action movie with the volume turned up high.

"Are you Cyril? You just need to answer yes or no!" The caller was firm.

"I am Cyril!" Cyril instantly became alert.

He realized that the caller was likely from the military coming to evacuate him. Otherwise, given his family background and his own status, nobody would dare speak to him in such a manner. It was typical of the military, tasked with combat and executing orders, to maintain a stern demeanor toward everyone except their direct superiors.

After all, a soldier's primary duty is to follow orders, not to maintain personal relationships, so their communication is naturally devoid of unnecessary pleasantries and focused on efficiency.

"Cyril, please stay in your current location and do not move. Our convoy will arrive in 27 minutes. Please prepare for evacuation with one accompanying person. My squad will escort you; you have only 5 minutes to evacuate."

"Roger that!" Cyril hung up the phone, suddenly much more alert.

He stood up and stretched his stiff body, only then suddenly noticing that Howard and the others were standing behind him.

"Only one accompanying person can be taken? What about Howard and Miranda?!" Quinn angrily demanded.

"Didn't you say before that all the survivors could go together? Was that all a lie?!"

"Meow!" Glisson, perched on Howard's shoulder, cried out, as if to say, "Don't forget about me!"

"It was possible to take many people, but the situation has changed unexpectedly," someone explained. "The situation in the city is too complicated and dangerous. If we try to take too many people, no one would be able to reach the safe zone."

"Howard and his girlfriend are capable; I believe they won't need my help, right?" Cyril, now sober, dismissed what he had said the night before about being a best man and other promises. Even the promise that as long as Howard cured Quinn's illness, he would take him along, no longer counted.

"That's right, I indeed don't need your help, and we are even now!" Howard responded with a faint smile.

Initially, he felt that last night was too wild, having caused a scene with Quinn in front of Cyril. He had felt a bit too harsh. Now, seeing Cyril's volte-face, Howard felt relieved instead.

This person was just like in high school, full of lies! If he broke his promises, then Howard felt justified in his actions the previous night—it was just evening the score!