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herself in the mirror, before the Pulse, now struck her as obviously overkill. Apparently she was still attractive enough to fuck, even without makeup, perfume, and a blow-dryer, and long after the last of the Botox in her forehead had worn off.
    And in Grand Central, being fuckable was pretty much the only thing keeping her healthy and alive. Fortunately for her sanity, she loved sex, though she’d never had a lot of partners before the Pulse.
    Not that she didn’t want them—she often fantasized about hooking up with strangers. But society, pre-Pulse society, that is, would have labeled her a slut. Now she labeled herself: a survivor.
    Here at the camp Jenna could fuck whoever the hell she wanted without worrying about her reputation. The women were all so malnourished that practically no one got pregnant. The few who did were moved upstairs, off the Tracks. All the more reason to keep having sex with any man around—pregnancy was a rare ticket out of hell. As for spreading STDs, well, no one gave it much thought. It’s not like they had any condoms left, or any STD tests. The very real risk of spreading disease was pushed under the rug and ignored by almost everyone, including herself.
    The thought that she might have a sexual addiction had crossed her mind, but if she did, so what? If anything, it saved her life.
    Sex was currency here on the Tracks.
    Jenna stepped off the stalled subway car onto the underground track and waved to the two soldiers headed her way.
    She had met them upstairs while wandering around the main terminal, taking in the bit of sunlight streaming through the huge windows. Down on the Tracks, the numerous garbage fires provided the only light.
    She looked at the two soldiers who had come to her subway car with a big smile. Maybe after they hooked up she’d be able to ask if they’d heard anything about Emily.
    Her roomie had been missing for days, and Jenna worried about her. She asked around, but no one knew anything… or if they did, they weren’t saying.
    Jenna would happily give up eating a full ration to have her friend back. Emily had been like a sister to her since Jenna first came to the Tracks.
    “Two of ya, huh?” Jenna asked the soldiers. The thought actually turned her on. She’d never had a threesome with two men before. A woman and a man, yes. But not two men. She felt her pussy clench in excitement.
    But, she remembered, business first.
    “Whatcha got?” she asked, inviting the men in with a smile.
    The taller one wore a nametag on his army camo that said JOHNSON . The other one was Pearce, it seemed. Unless they wore dead men’s uniforms, which was also a possibility.
    Pearce grinned and handed her two cigarettes.
    Cigarettes! She thought they had all been smoked ages ago. “Wow,” she said, impressed. “Thank you.”
    “So you cool with this?” Pearce asked, seeming to genuinely care. That’s sorta sweet.
    “Absolutely,” she said, pulling her dirty shirt off and tossing it on the floor of the subway car.
    Pearce smiled and both he and Johnson stripped their shirts off.
    Jenna felt a rush of heat go through her as the testosterone level surged in the cramped subway car. Wiggling out of her sweat pants, she stood naked before the men.
    “You’re beautiful,” Johnson said, his voice tinged with what sounded like awe. Jenna flushed at the compliment.
    Reaching down, he touched her nipple, his caress bringing the tip to a hard peak. Jenna arched into his hand, and a moan escaped her lips as Pearce stepped behind her and ran his palms over her ass at the same time.
    Oh, that felt nice .
    “You like my ass?” she purred, looking over her shoulder at him. He smiled in response and gave it a little hard smack. “Go ahead, baby,” she said, urging him on, “I won’t break.”
    Pearce slapped her ass, building up a steady rhythm until she writhed under his touch, pressing against Johnson’s hands as he tweaked her nipples.
    She moaned, gasping as Johnson dipped