The end of the cruel Peace & the start of the desperate War.
Based on ‘One In Ten’ by FinalStand, adapted into 17 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.
A frightened Mother Mouse will devour her young; similarly, a frightened culture will devour its future.
Roni was still working away while the rest of us were in the man-cave once more. Flame seemed happy taking long pulls on the Wild Cherry and smacking her lips. I wasn't surprised she wasn't worrying about Silent. Her wounded comrade was a reliable pair of guns guarding her back and nothing more. Emotional bonds were contrary to her psychopathic nature.
Jethro had been sitting on his 'throne' for fifteen minutes, deep in thought.
"I guess it is about time we got those guns," he announced as he stood up. His words captured everyone's attention yet he didn't appear to care. He started walking from the room and the rest of us followed along. The need for guns had brought us here in the first place.
His path led us into his walk-in pantry. One wall of shelves rolled out and to the sides on seamless wheels. Beneath that spot was a steel door, a tad over one meter wide and three meters long. It must have been spring-loaded because once Jethro yanked on the hole that only one finger could fit into, the portal swung open and back.
Stairs led down into darkness. Jethro turned around and followed them out of sight for several seconds. Then a light came on. The drop looked to be around four meters. Angel went next. A strange level of respect allowed me to go third. Flame was at my back then Kuiko, Venus and Lavender.
The floor was grey-painted concrete. The room stretched out five meters in each direction. 80% of the room was covered with stacked crates with a variety of markings on them, a few even in English. Angel was incredibly tense. I didn't know why, but I had a feel for her moods. The other 20% of the room was an immaculate workbench.
Considering Jethro's aversion to cleanliness, this was definitely something noteworthy.
"What is all this stuff?" Venus asked.
"Weapons," Angel preempted the old guy.
"This is an awful lot of weapons," Lavender muttered. No one wanted to say it, so I did.
"Jethro, you were in the MRA, weren't you?" I tossed out there. I'd told the nation that the MRA was dead and here I was looking at a small armory of illegal weaponry. Jethro had been walking over to the work area. He turned and looked us over.
"I'm going to do something I don't normally do," Jethro met each of our gazes.
"I'm going to explain myself. Let's pull some assault rifles out of those crates, make sure they in top shape then go upstairs 'cause I am only going to do this once," he stated.
"These people don't know how to use firearms," Angel cautioned angrily.
"They'll never learn if they don't have one and we are approaching the point where we'll need everyone to be a shooter," he countered. "Let's get to it."
And that's what we did. These weapons had been top rate stuff at the start of the 21st century. Now, they weren't quite antiques, only old. The basics of using some sort of explosive substance to propel an object at your target remained the same. In the case of firearms, it was remarkably the same, or so Angel said.
Kuiko went straight for the Russian-made Surface-to-Air missile, because she thought that the Cyrillic writing looked pretty. It was one of the few exotic devices. Most were clearly Federation military, or Police issue, undoubtedly stolen from some armory at some point early in Jethro's terrorist career.
I was irate that Kuiko looked so cute with a bandolier of ammo packs and an automatic shotgun. Angel insisted that only she and Jethro took loaded firearms upstairs. We could carry the gun and the ammo as long as the ammo wasn't in the gun. Venus argued that this defeated the purpose of having the weapon.
Angel countered that if she couldn't load it quickly, she probably shouldn't have it in the first place. I caught Flame bagging up a few boxes of ammunition, but Jethro didn't seem to care so I let it slide. It fell to Flame and me to lug extra rifles and cartridge belts up to the rest of the group, being the strongest, Angel was keeping an eye on Jethro and he was keeping an eye on her.
Fifteen minutes later, we had gathered back in the spacious dwelling space of our host. Jethro, on his throne, finished off a glass of Wild Cherry and began his tale:
"I was seventeen and in high school when the Gender Plague first broke out. I was quarantined for a month before the Supreme Court decided it was illegal and set us men free.
I took the opportunity to enlist in the Navy, the U S Navy, because of the man shortage when I was released. Went through Basic, the Specialist School, I was a Damage Control Technician which meant I was a fireman, then a second outbreak happened. I was quarantined for three months this time.
I got out and was assigned to the destroyer Michael A. Mansoor. During the Relief of Athens, we all damn near died. Of the eighteen men and women in Damage Control, only me and one other rating enlistee survived. My officer, an ensign, stayed behind to make sure the forward ammunition storage was secure. Our Chief Petty Officer had us seal the ensign in. We saved the ship long enough for the crew to be pulled off.
The Mansoor exploded. We were never able to locate her body. She was some R O T C kid who was only with us four months. I never knew her first name until the ceremony after it was all over. She may have been the bravest human being I've ever known. After that, I served aboard the Little Rock working anti-piracy in the Philippines and Indonesia.
Since I took part in some land action during that tour, the Navy, I hate using the term Federation, reassigned me to Shore Patrol duty. I took police training and everything. I did another tour aboard the Little Rock the following year then they dragged me off when Congress decided that men couldn't be given combat assignments.
Seven months later, they discharged me and thousands of other men as part of a down-sizing program. Unfortunately, the same act of Congress that exited me from the Navy also forbid me joining the fire, or police departments. A buddy of mine was able to find me work in a machine shop where I learned the craft of welding.
After that, I was a good boy. I dated, joined a motorcycle club and built up a nice life. When the Gender Inequality Act was passed I was more annoyed than angry. All that changed when I was twenty-nine. See, I had some male friends who joined up with a group called Male Awakening. They were a group devoted to the repeal of the G I A through political means.
Things including publically supporting male-friendly candidates and working against G I A-supporters through boycotts and the like. I was rolled up in an FBI sting and those ladies informed me that they'd make those charges go away if I agreed to go inside and spy on Male Awakening. They knew I was friends with those guys. I told them to fuck off, fought the charges and beat their trumped up bullshit.
By the time I cleared up my legal troubles, they took the M A down anyway. It seems their Treasurer took off with their funds after leaving some financial irregularities. That was a total load of crap because they never caught that guy, but they did manage to put away most of the group's leadership.
A few months later, I ran across one of my buddies who had asked me to join Male Awakening. He'd heard about my troubles and over a few beers, he hinted that the fight wasn't over. This time I bought in. This incarnation didn't have a name. We weren't public. We dug up dirt on corrupt female officials by any means necessary.
We destroyed the careers of the worst oppressors of men. Violence wasn't our aim yet we armed ourselves for what we knew would be a harsh crackdown. We operated in small cells, but I knew we had lawyers, judges and even a few Congresswomen on our side. Since we had bracelets by that time, we used women to communicate between cells.
Our cell received word of the major Federation sweep, a day before it happened. We were able to move most of our material stashes to new locations before they fell on us. The Writs of Exclusion were abominations. No one ratted me out. For weeks I sweated bullets every time I saw a cop car, a mysterious unmarked car, or heard a siren.
After a few months, I began searching for other survivors. We came together in secrecy, united in our fury. The Federation had broken every law and covenant so we agreed that waging a guerilla war was our only option. A week later I bagged my first cop. Put a bullet under her left eye at 80 meters. She was dead before she hit the ground and it felt good.
They, the Federation, had murdered my country and now they were paying. Three days later, I waited for a Federation agent to walk out on her porch to see her little girl off to school. I walked up, told the little girl her mother was a whore and put nine slugs into that whore's body and I felt just fine about that too."
"No," squeaked Kuiko.
"That is the way it was," Jethro gave Kuiko a paternal look. "Those women came at me with every dirty trick they could come up with to take away my freedom and I put them in the grave for it."
"You murdered people," Angel growled.
"Fuck you, Cop. The Gender Inequality Act was passed by women to enslave men. No man ever voted on it," Jethro snarled. "Men tried to use the system so you cheated. Boohoo that your bosses didn't figure out our only option left was violent resistance."
"I killed seventeen government officials and my only regret is I didn't kill more. Not one was a fair fight. Kuiko, I killed that bitch in front of her daughter because I wanted her buddies to come around and see the anguish on that little girl's face. I wanted them to worry about their own daughters. I wanted them to know they were at war."
"You are a murdering scumbag," Roni snapped.
"I disagree," Flame shook her head. "You are morons if you think he should have called out every freaking target and said 'hey, I know you have all the back-up in the world and I'm alone so I'm giving you ample warning that I'm going to try and kill you.’"
"You are a psycho," Aniqua pointed out. "It figures you would agree with him."
"He didn't have a choice," Samantha intervened. Her speaking so decisively was almost as stunning as her words themselves. "Having a gun might not have saved Israel against the Aurora Slasher, but it might have discouraged those sorority students."
"The politics of payback," Flame laughed. "Jethro might sound like some sadistic bastard to the rest of you; not to me. His tactics are sound and they work. Kill enough cops and women stop joining the force. The authorities either crack down harder, bringing more over to your cause, or they concede to some of your demands."
"It is how a very small force fights a much larger adversary," Flame concluded.
"That's still cold blooded murder," Angel reiterated. I didn't know what to think. Jethro butchered defenseless women. The President doomed millions. I admired what Zara did except it was some of the same things that Jethro did, yet she was a soldier and he was a terrorist.
"There is no resolution to this argument," I spoke clearly and loud. "Short of violence to silence the opposition, there is nothing we can do to rectify the past now. Jethro, why did you stop being a member of the MRA?"
"Spokane," Jethro answered. "I had no problem with killing cops and Feds, and intimidating their families. They were part of the problem."
"Those high school girls though, that made no sense to me. We weren't at war with the female gender; we were at war with the government and their policy of enslavement. Killing random kids was wrong and I wouldn't be associated with it. I talked this over with my cell, they disagreed and I told them that if I saw any of them again, I'd kill them," Jethro clarified.
"I had several caches only I knew about. I waited a few months then moved up to the city, slowly bringing everything up here as I had the time. A year and a half later, my old buddy was caught up in a traffic stop, shot it out with the cops and was killed. From stuff they found on his body, he rolled up the rest of the gang, but the other members didn't know my real name."
"The G E D came out and talked with me. They kept an eye on me for a few years. I behaved and grew old so they eventually went sniffing elsewhere. We wouldn't be here now if I hadn't gone drinking with Kuiko and let slip about my gun stash," Jethro smiled at my little friend. "I knew she'd never betray me, and she hasn't."
"Now I've got a front row seat to the End of the World so I get one last chance to make a difference," he said. Yeah, this old guy wanted to go down in a hail of gunfire, no doubt about it.
"Good for you, you butcher," Roni glared. "I won't do this."
"I signed on to make a difference," she continued, "not to hang out with cold-blooded killers. I'm out of here. Is anyone with me?" Aniqua stood up. Venus seriously hesitated before joining them. Venus was looking right at me. Angel's eyes were boring holes into me as well.
"Israel?" Angel inquired.
I could go with them. I could stay. I could beg them to stay. I could stay silent and let events drag me along. My mind was playing Jinga with the vortex of intellectual input and buzz saw emotions that were boiling forth.
"Angel, Roni, Venus and Aniqua sit back down," I stood and stated. It took them a varying number of seconds to realize I was Not pleading.
"Israel, you don't get to decide that for us," Roni replied evenly. "We let you go to the Arena last night. This time, we get to choose and we are leaving. If you are the man I hope you are, you will come with us."
"At the same time you're pressuring me to give more to the group despite my misgivings, Roni, you are giving less?" I countered. She started to protest. I raised my hand for a reprieve.
"Hear me out," I continued. "It isn't that simple. I am not questioning your moral quandary about working with people too comfortable with taking human life. It is very real and I feel it. The difference is that you would rather be right and dead than alive at any cost. You've never had to make that call before, but I have and I'm alive to tell you that you are wrong, Roni."
"You are dead wrong because dead does nothing. The living can always come back and make something better. Hell, that's what my life has been about the past week and a half. The rest of you are neophytes going into this. I'm not. I know exactly what it takes morally to survive. Don't make me follow any of you out that door. I love each and every one of you."
"I do love you, but am I obligated to jump off a cliff for you? I respect your choice to choose suicide. It would be wrong of me to rob you of that freedom. Please don't try to make this about affection, compassion, or loyalty though. It is a matter of life and death. Roni, you are trying to kill me, which I'm okay with. I resent you killing Angel, Aniqua and Venus," I stressed.
"That's fucked up reasoning," Roni fought back. "Those two get off on killing other people. They enjoy it. Why can't you see that they are just as likely to get you killed as keep you alive?"
"I will agree with you that Flame gets off on watching people suffer and die," I nodded. "It is the way she is. I don't know Jethro so I'm not ready to make a judgment call on him."
"I do know that both of them have exquisite weapon skills and I'm pretty sure we are going to need them before we are truly free," I explained. "I would prefer an all-male super commando squad who had passed every psychological test ever made. That doesn't appear to be on the menu, so I'm willing to hold on to whatever resources are available."
"So you are willing to risk all our lives for the sake of expediency," Angel glared.
"Absolutely," I shot right back. "In case no one is paying attention, I am not in some government facility helping working on some kind of serum to fight the new plague. In case you missed it, everyone here agreed with my decision to flee instead."
"Roni, Angel, you do realize that young lady who saved me this morning is going to die, right? I could have insisted she come with us. I could have given her the cure. I didn't. None of you asked me to even after I told the whole globe of an unstoppable wave of death coming for everyone. I'm not asking you to take responsibility for my decision because it was mine."
"I'm begging you; understand that it isn't the end of morality to stay. When the madness ends, you need to decide if we will still be worthy of continuing on. You'll no longer be part of that equation if you go now," I declared.
"Are we supposed to ignore that he was a terrorist and she is a homicidal maniac?" Aniqua said.
"I'm not homicidal," Flame grinned. "I'm a psychotic sociopath. I don't randomly kill people. I do it with malice of forethought." Jethro didn't show a desire to defend himself.
"Israel, Flame almost killed you last night," Venus pointed out. "Why would you stick around?"
Why was I sticking around?
"Israel, don't do this," Angel said. "You promised me you would stop running into danger."
"Angel, why do you have to be right and I have to be wrong?" I sighed.
"Because those two are dangerous criminals," Roni answered. Didn't Roni understand that I was a far more callous killer than either of those 'criminals' and I didn't have to lift a finger, or look at a single grave?
(Before the Curtain Call)
Shortly after nine-thirty that night, the awaited and feared seismic event happened in China. A few minutes past sunrise over Hong Kong the rains broke and a fleet of helicopters and V T O Ls (Vertical Take-Off and Landing) were heard over the city. Helicopters were not unknown in this center of wealth and commerce. Well over a hundred all coming in at once was noteworthy.
For many of the citizens of the city, it had been a restless night. After midnight, police sirens had been wailing all over the city. Some even heard gunfire. What they didn't know was that for the past four hours, private security forces working for the most prominent communities and some special police units had raided the middle class communities of the city and stolen their men.
They forced the men into protective suits and hustled them back to the high-rises that sheltered the most 'important' people. This was an outrage that they could not get away with, had China still functioned normally. A new order based on brutal social cannibalism was taking place. The rich were taking their vassals and their new 'acquisitions' to their estates far from the population centers.
This was supposed to be a gradual process except late yesterday afternoon the other Great Families learned that one of their own had their first reported case of this new 'flu.’ They could wait no longer. They would have preferred to flee under the cover of darkness, but rain and the danger of so many helicopters and V T O Ls moving around forced them to postpone until first light.
You didn't have to be a connoisseur of conspiracy theories to figure out what was going on. Men had been stolen and now the rich were bugging out of town in one big hurry. Late Friday, the 'flu' began to appear in the population in a big way. The workers in the hospital were afraid, not fearful, afraid.
The councilwoman from one of the poorest districts called the Head of the City Council, no answer. She called one of her colleagues from one of the richest districts, no answer. She was a savvy political creature and she smelled a rat bigger than the Tomb of the First Emperor. She called the General of the 9th Reserve Division; Hong Kong's defense force.
The first problem was that the 9th ® division only existed on paper, the troops had to be called to arms. The second problem was that the 9th ® was not well equipped. That was one of the fundamental differences between the Federation and Chinese militaries. Both had large, volunteer professional armies. That was their only real similarity.
In the Federation, the average enlistment time was 6 years, two 3 year terms. In China, women enlisted in to the ranks for 20 years with an option to continue 10 more if you were a high enough ranking Non Commissioned Officer. Soldiering was all these women did. Officers in the Federation went to Military Academies with a perchance for democratic selection and the average term of service was 10 years.
In China, you had to come from an upper tier community, you went to a military academy and then you served until you were 62 years old with a deferment for 10 more years if you were high enough rank. It wasn't that one system was better than another. The Federation troops and Chinese troops got along well on U N missions.
The Federation command thought the Chinese were disciplined, brave and experienced. The Chinese considered their Federation counterparts to be aggressive and more prone to individual initiative. The issue was back home. Federation troops exited the standing military and many entered the Reserves.
They had the same equipment and less intense, but similar training at their full-time counterparts. By and large, the regular commands felt they could rely on the Reserves to fulfill any active duty role they were trained for. In China, it was very different. Their reserves' role was defensive in nature, to protect strategic areas while the regular army was elsewhere.
Regular armed forces troops did not rotate to a Reserve division after leaving service. They got a pension and a government job. The reserve troops enlisted under a different system. Same length of service, different mission entirely. Their training was less rigorous, their equipment more primitive and their duty was to assemble when called then report to their assigned defensive position in their region.
The Central Government did not want a Reserve Division to be able to hold off a regular service division for purely political reasons. See, the command of Reserve Divisions usually fell to someone of lower or middle class background. There simply were not enough upper tier women around who did well in the military. These backup divisions were therefore more egalitarian, believing all humanity is equal.
The other issue was one of association. Regular service enlisted women thought of themselves as part of the military family. They would spend a huge chunk of their lives in arms. They didn't participate in the lives of their childhood communities, nor did they identify with the working classes. They were separate and distinct.
The officers were very different as well. They were very much part of the political life of their communities. They had to be good at their trade yet mindful of their family's needs. Their general attitude was that enlisted troopers were tools, finely honed for their assigned task. Personal relationships were discouraged with the lower ranks.
This societal and professional divide was about to be tragically played out in Hong Kong. See, China was a middle class country. These women staffed the government buildings, taught and went to the universities, filled out most of the professions and were the workhorses of the economy. It would stand to reason they had the most men and they did.
Over the past week, the upper tier families had been doing the genetic and reproductive mathematics. Yes, they had the best women to men ratio, but it wasn't enough. They were going to die out. They could either change the basic fundamentals of their society, or they could steal more men. They chose kidnapping.
Stealing men from the poor, while better for the long term political outlook, was sending your precious security troops into some really bad neighborhoods. The middle class? They lived in nice quiet neighborhoods. Besides, the upper tier no longer cared about long term political consequences. Now it was a battle for survival.
The middle class women didn't simply hand over their men. They fought and in more than a few cases, died trying to keep their lineage alive. At the time, most had no clue why this savage act had befallen them. Words from on high instructed the local police to do nothing. The flaw in the evacuation plan was that most policemen were middle class too.
A special effort had been made by the kidnappers to not steal men from communities with policewomen. That would have been a catastrophe. The thing was, the rank and file policewoman identified with their fellow worker. Their orders didn't make sense, men were the most precious commodity. Police unit began having hushed communication with other police units.
They didn't like the picture that was being revealed. With the roar of aircraft at dawn, the cops knew what was happening and the tide of rebellion was rising with the Sun. The schedule had the majority of the evacuations being finished by late afternoon, even with bad weather. One of the keys to making this possible was to shut down the communication network.
This is exactly what the Security Troops did. Sure, there would be panic, but it would be a disorganized panic. All of this failed to take into account the human condition. Shortly after seven o'clock in the morning, a police sergeant boldly walked through the central headquarters, took a quick right turn past two surprised police administrative officials, opened the door to the Police Commandant's office and filled that woman with all eleven bullets in her gun. Why? A Special Security Team had mistaken one address for another, stormed in, and killed her mother, aunt and three sisters in the process of stealing her community's two males and her son.
The Sergeant dropped her pistol and waited. Policewomen, weapons drawn, swarmed the room. In a normal world, the assassin would have been born to the ground, arrested and medical aid summoned for their downed leader. This was not a normal morning. While those policewomen couldn't put a finger on what it was, something was horribly, horribly wrong.
The Sergeant turned to her growing audience and began issuing orders. For an instant, no one moved then the first lemming jumped off the cliff and the flood gates were opened. Several minutes later, the head of Hong Kong's tactical unit was leading her team toward the Security Services HQ with order to link up with other units and storm the building.
What was she waiting for? While the Security Troops were very well equipped, the HK Police had armored cars used for riot suppression. Like their Federation counterparts, these vehicles normally fired tear gas. The Chinese were extra efficient with their devices though. They also fired a variety of grenades, even a rocket meant to penetrate hardened structures.
Yes, Virginia, the cops had armor piercing shells for their little RVs. The Security Building was solidly built and the troops defending it were confident they could hold out until other units relieved them. When the first chunks of granite began exploding in on them, the fear gripped their ovaries. In theory, the structure should have held out for 24 hours.
In fact, it held out 18 minutes. By the time the Security Services helicopter showed up, the communication network for the city had been restored. The helicopter strafed the police but didn't have anything that could deal with the armored vehicles. They called in the Marine Regiment assigned to Hong Kong to come and restore order.
The Marines prepared their land and air assets to roll out then discovered a problem. Outside their gates a battalion of infantry from the 9th Reserve division had assembled. It was their post after all, replacing the Marines if they had been sent to a war zone. There were 2500 Marines and only 600 light infantry. The issue was exactly where did the 9th Reserve division stand in all of this mess?
The Marine Colonel didn't want to roll out of her base only to have the reservists storm in once she was gone. Splitting her forces wasn't a good idea either. Apparently the Security Service had a real fight on their hands. While she was trying to figure this conundrum out, the Navy began shelling, Canton. Compared to Hong Kong, Canton had gone totally insane.
She called up the commander of the 9th Reserve Division to see where she stood. That General informed her counterpart that she was about to storm the towers and to hell with anyone who got in her way. The Colonel called the Security Services' new commander to find out what was what. The SS commander started screaming at the Colonel to get off her ass and into the fight.
After some careful consideration, she called her liaison with the naval amphibious detachment and formally requested to be evacuated from Hong Kong. The Navy was coming to help her out. Why? Because the head of the naval base in Canton wasn't an idiot either. She had ships, but no troops and now here was this 2500 women force volunteering to be her much needed muscle.
This was a far more crushing need because Canton had a regular service division barracked there. Duly informed of a riot supported by the police breaking out in the wealthiest section of town, the division had raced to the rescue. They massacred the mobs around the towers and rescued the private security forces defending there.
As soon as she secured the perimeter of the district, the General of that division had her troops storm the towers. These weren't a mob of workers with policewomen in the mix. These were combat troops and they cut a swath through the private security. Men were 'liberated' along with other assets that hadn't escaped yet. This act of betrayal accomplished, the General and her division began their withdrawal.
The Chinese Army and Air Force had been hammering rebel positions all morning. Now they didn't know what in the hell to do. Over the next forty-eight hours, many division commanders came to the same conclusion. It was time to take the men and run. Remember the relationship between regular divisions and the populace?
This was coming out badly in a big way and not in a way most people would have thought of. The civilian woman had no connection to the soldiers what-so-ever. That meant no atrocity was out of bounds. Both sides knew that defeat meant death. The soldiers were in all metrics better, except two; the soldiers were outnumbered a hundred to one and most fights were in an urban environment that lessened the soldiers' technological superiority.
The other brutal aspect of the struggle was every dead soldier was irreplaceable. The civilian woman-pool was effectively limitless. With low male ratios and the Plague added to that, China appeared to be on a fast track to oblivion. Before that happened, one final drama had to play out.
Shanghai.
From the final scene in the cabin.
"I'm begging you; understand that it isn't the end of morality to stay. When the madness ends, you need to decide if we will still be worthy of continuing on. You'll no longer be part of that equation if you go now," I declared.
"Are we supposed to ignore that he was a terrorist and she is a homicidal maniac?" Aniqua said.
"I'm not homicidal," Flame grinned. "I'm a psychotic sociopath. I don't randomly kill people. I do it with malice of forethought."
Jethro didn't show a desire to defend himself.
"Israel, Flame almost killed you last night," Venus pointed out. "Why would you stick around?"
Why was I sticking around?
"Israel, don't do this," Angel said. "You promised me you would stop running into danger."
"Angel, why do you have to be right and I have to be wrong?" I sighed.
"Because those two are dangerous criminals," Roni answered. Didn't Roni understand that I was a far more callous killer than either of those 'criminals' and I didn't have to lift a finger, or look at a single grave?
And Right Where We Left Off:
I had to take a different tact. I had to find another,
"Roni," she was the one I had to prove myself to. Angel? Having betrayed me so often, even her convictions about Jethro and Flame wouldn't drive her from my side, I hoped. Aniqua and Venus, no matter what moral core they based their argument on, wanted to live, and that meant sticking with a larger group than just two people.
"Roni, I am asking you to trust me," I made furtive eye contact. I didn't want to die and that was the direction this talk was going. If Roni left, could I really let her, Angel, Aniqua and Venus go it alone?
My soul begged for trust, trust in me for a few more hours.
'Let's see this through together.’
"Please,”
'Please Angel, Aniqua, Roni and Venus. Please see all the pain I've endured caring so much, carrying us all so far, '
"Please, just a little while longer," my voice faltered.
One more hurdle? Was this one more hurdle, or the last one? My psyche reached into the last drawer in my battered cupboard of my sanity, the dwindling larder of my hopes and dreams, miserly horded and so plentifully spent, only to find a finger's trace of dust remained.
Was this all I had left? It seemed like the John Wayne epic western, the Searchers. Would I be Debbie? Finally coming home from the nightmare which had become the only life I had been left, a life I had still found the strength to live? Or was I Ethan Edwards, finished and spent; no longer welcome in the happy world I'd spent four long years to reach and which lay just beyond the portal?
Arms crossed, I was being pulled away from, from home; what I wished home would be like. The door outside to the van would take me down the road, yet it was just an allusion to my fate. Standing still, taking that step, both would lead me outside. The pretense of my companions would not matter. I would be alone, forever more, I would no longer have the strength; the certainty of purpose; to come back.
"Please,” 'Please love me. Please trust me. Please give me one last chance.'
So damn hard, for so damn long, for four years I lived with the denial of hope.
I had discarded that comfortable certainty of hopelessness for love,
"Please,”
"No. Trust me, Israel. These are the 'wrong' people. They won't help you. They won't help you get better," Roni insisted.
I trembled. My chest felt too tight. I couldn't breathe. I wanted to run back into the cellar in my mind where I had run so many times before.
"For fuck's sake!" I snapped. "Don't keep fucking interrupting me!" No one said anything for a few seconds.
"Israel?" Angel whispered.
"Roni, why are any of you here today?" I persevered.
"We are here because we pitched in and worked together; looked out for each other," she responded.
"Wrong," I trembled with, was this rage? "We are all here today because everyone in this room has trusted me with their lives. You are here, with some hope of seeing next week, because of me and no one else."
"Israel," Roni started.
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" I screamed. "Without me, the rest of you would be living comfortable lives back in the city, safe in your preconceived notions about the relationships between men and women."
Angel put her hand on Roni's shoulder to forestall her friend's bitter comeback.
"Without me screwing up your lives; without each one of you; except Jethro, Paisley and Lavender; putting trust in me despite knowing how screwed up I am, you would all be facing down the eradication of the Human Race. Me!" I seethed. "Me! Without you trusting me so much you would all toss your safe lives away, you wouldn't be here dropping your idiotic moralistic arguments on me. Every fucking one of you, owes your life to you being able to love me beyond rational explanation. Tell me I'm lying," I petered out.
"It is not that simple," Aniqua took up the cause.
"Having trusted me this far, why are you stopping now? Don't give me any shitty excuse about Jethro; he gave up being a terrorist thirty years ago, or Flame; the vicious psychopath who dragged her very-wounded teammate to us, plus figured out we were here in the first place; proving she is also one of the most cunning people in the room."
"Say something besides 'gee, Israel, they scare me', because their approach to life might be the right one, given our precarious position and all our lives being on the line. And I'd rather be in the 'right', even if it leaves Kuiko dead at your feet," I speared her with my gaze. "And No! I am not exaggerating. I trust Jethro and Flame. Until this point, you have had faith in me, so I want to know what I have done so wrong that your faith is now shaken."
"Gee Israel, why don't I simply shoot these pretentious bitches for you," Flame joked.
"Please," I looked down at my feet, fists painfully clenched. "Please Flame, please don't."
"Be happy you are my only God-damn friend," Flame snorted. "Continue. Their excuses are going to be doozies."
"Israel, if we go, will you come with us?" Roni ignored everything I had just said.
"No. No, I'll crawl into a corner and die inside, Roni. I can't in good conscious do something I know to be suicidal and I can't abandon you. I trust you four. I do. I also don't trust you to keep any of us alive. You don't have it in you, and Jethro and Flame do."
"I spent every day for nearly three months in a basement with a serial killer. I know theirs is a madness I must embrace to keep all of us alive. I'm not a killer. I probably never will be. I know for our group to survive, we will need to be capable of killing people. We can't stay here long; if nothing else, we'll eat Jethro out of house and home. For a variety of reasons, we can't go back into the city. That means we head into the countryside."
"With civilization going down the toilet, how do you expect us to find food and energy cells? I know where we need to go and our cars won't hold a charge for that long. I've seen the dark underbelly of human nature on a level with both Angel and Flame. If we go hat-in-hand, odds are extremely likely they will kill you and enslave me; not because they know who I am, but because I've got testicles and men are a rare commodity."
"What are the rest of you going to do to keep the rest of us safe, fed and mobile? By all means, tell me I haven't thought this through in the same way I've worked out every other crisis we've been confronted with in the past two weeks. That's it, my argument. You get to decide now. I hope you make your choice based on something more than knee-jerk reactions, understanding not one of you have ever had to test your morality against your 'will to survive' before now."
"Top of his class," Capri murmured. "Our kids are going to be geniuses."
"What do we do when one of them murders someone?" Aniqua asked. At least it was an honest question.
"We'll deal with it then," I replied.
"Please take into account: Flame, despite her long criminal history, has never been charged with murder and Jethro, despite his terrorist career, was so cautious he has retained both his freedom and remained free of drug therapy. You are assuming poor judgement on their part, despite every bit of evidence to the contrary. If they weren't both careful, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"I bet you kicked ass in debate," Venus shook her head. She also crossed over from the 'departing' crowd to the rest of us.
"Roni, he has forgiven me every time I have betrayed him," Angel sighed. "Not only that, he has used my betrayal to advance his; our cause." To me, "I'm tired of fucking up around you, Israel. I hope this is the last time I have to apologize." She came over to majority's side.
Aniqua crossed over without another word, leaving Roni alone.
"If you die, humanity dies," Roni shook her head. "I'll stay."
Latest crisis averted. On second thought; this was the first democratic conflict we had faced and it had been won with reason; not threat, or fear of force.
I ran my hands through my hair.
"Angel, why does this keep happening?" I tried not to sound too desperate.
"We'll deal with that later. Sit back and savor your victory," she chided me. Sometimes; more often than not; listen to the woman who holds your health in her hands. I did.
"Wow," Flame looked over to Jethro, "I've never seen so much cunt tamed so fast in my life. He is truly fucking impressive."
We were all surprised when Kuiko hurled herself at Flame, even Flame. Unfortunately, surprise for Flame was measured in milliseconds.
Kuiko barely had her hands on Flame before Flame spun them around, slammed Kuiko into the ground with Flame on top, and began wailing on her. Samantha was the first to attempt a rescue. All it earned her was a judo throw which sent her head of heels over the two combatants. Capri, far more brave than capable, was rushing in when Angel shoved her aside and lit into Flame.
I went in; not to fight, but to drag Kuiko free of the battle. I shouldn't have bothered. By the time I had a hand on Kuiko's elbow, Angel had Flame pressed face first on the floor and her left arm twisted painfully behind her back.
"Get off me, Cow," Flame raged.
"Stay down," Angel warned her.
"I'm going to fucking kill you, Cunt," Flame seethed.
"Angel, please get off her," I requested. "This isn't Flame's fault."
Angel hesitated for several seconds before releasing her hold and jumping back.
Flame spun to her feet and glared fury at the assembly. She came right at me. At the time, I didn't know Jethro threw up a cautioning hand to Angel and I really wasn't sure why she took his advice, yet she did. Maybe her faith in me was growing. I shifted Kuiko's curled up body behind me.
"Get out of my fucking way!" Flame screamed at me as her boot slammed into my ribs. I refused to let go of Kuiko, or stop shielding her. Flame punched me in the ear. "Bitch, get out of the fucking way."
I looked up at Flame.
"I'd never let go of you," futilely spewing forth from my lips. I was terrified. Only the fact I was more terrified of how I would regard myself if I let Kuiko go, kept me hanging on. My inner Monster was howling at me to escape; hide; evade. Flame slapped, then backhanded me. Flame's eyes were crazy-angry. For a split second they appeared to un-focus. When they cleared again, she was still certifiably crazy, and then she started laughing.
"I am forever going to regret not killing you on that bridge; Bitch," Flame snickered. She offered me a hand up.
"I'm a little busy right now," I smiled painfully.
"Okay," Flame nodded. She reached past me. Kuiko flinched before Flame rustled her hair. "Kiddo, keep in mind he owes me a fuck-stun, so don't get greedy."
"Meep," Kuiko responded.
With their bizarre exchange complete, Flame sauntered back to her seat as if nothing had happened. Most of the surrounding ladies were shocked, angry, and or appalled. Flame didn't care. It appeared she barely gave a damn about my opinion, which was still a milestone for her. I turned to the Kuiko in my lap.
"Okay, what inspired you to attack Flame?" I hugged her tight. My ribs hurt; again.
"I don't know," Kuiko mumbled. "I was so scared and you promised to try not to die anymore and here you were, trying to die on me again. Then Flame said something and, I don't know what happened. The next thing I recalled clearly was her punching me in the face. Am I ugly?"
"Oh, you are a hideous little troll," I sighed.
"Really?" she nearly cried.
"Yep," I groaned. "Tonight, all night long, as we are sleeping together, we are going to have to keep the lights out so you don't scare me. Since I need to know where you are, I'll have to keep a hand on you constantly too."
"Oh,” she blinked. "If I get Flame to punch me again, can I sleep with you tomorrow night too?"
"Bedtime," Jethro dispelled the gathering silence. "Lavender, make sure all the leftovers are put away. Paisley, check the locks and stove. Daddy will make it up to you for letting these sickos into our tidy shard of Paradise. As for the rest of you; Roni, you know where the first spare bedroom is. Venus, you know where the other one is and Capri, I showed you where the sleeping bags were stored."
People began moving about. The tension ratcheted down a notch now that we had something constructive to do which would keep us from dwelling on the last five minutes. Jethro almost snuck up on me (over the last 3 three years, I've cultivated a pretty keen spatial awareness.) He motioned me to step outside. We strode about a dozen steps into the night.
"Do you really think I won't waste one of your bitches if I feel she's stepped out of line?" Jethro asked without looking at me.
"Why do you want to know? The moment has passed," I replied.
"I think you know the answer to that too," I believed he sneered.
"You don't love Lavender, or Paisley, though they don't know it," I explained. "You aren't going to start shooing us because that isn't how you wanted to go out; in some dumbass quarrel against people you've shared hospitality with. You have the look of a man who wants to explode into violence; in your case, for a damn long time. I imagine every time you saw a cop alone doing some random shit, you contemplated killing her."
"You didn't, because killing just one wasn't enough," I mumbled. "You want some last, epic, tragic battle and to take as many of them to Hell as possible. I don't know why, not really. It is contrary to my mindset. I don't want to kill anyone so much that I'd die to do it. I certainly don't hate people I've never met enough to kill them. Still, I assume you have your reasons. But I don't think you are crazy enough to kill the rest of us to get your wish," I concluded.
"If you thought I'd gamble with the lives of your ladies, you'd tell Flame, wouldn't you?" Jethro mused.
"Absolutely," I nodded.
"Good man," Jethro reciprocated. "Use the right tool for the job." By that he meant not telling Angel. Angel would want to talk it out. Flame would blow Jethro away without hesitation. "Let's get inside. I think you've put your Main Squeeze through enough for tonight."
"Did you stop Angel from jumping back in on Flame?" I inquired as we headed inside.
"Yep. That's part of being a man; living with the choices you make," Jethro informed me. "If Angel had gone back in for Flame, your group would always be confused about who was in charge. It didn't matter that Flame busted you up."
"All your ladies saw you taking charge and respected you for it. Psychology is important come crunch time," he explained.
"I still got beaten," I sighed. Jethro held the door for me to go back inside.
"Doesn't matter," Jethro patted me on the back. "You took a beating for Kuiko and now they know you'd take a beating for any of them."
"Being a man is much more than kicking ass," Jethro chuckled. "You are a wimpy son of a bitch, but that will change if you live long enough. What matters is they think you care. Simple shit like a hug, a kiss, and asking them 'how they are doing' does wonders and doesn't cost much."
"How come you never got, attached?" I asked.
"I have a fucking armory in my basement, Idiot," he laughed. "That doesn't mean my advice isn't time tested. You can't go wrong spanking that ass more often. They'll get used to it."
"Did you witness the beating I just took?" I mumbled.
"Some bitches, you tie up first, Son," Jethro teased me. "Some you tie down spread-eagle and use a ball-gag on. I suggest option Two for Flame until she gets addicted to that cock."
"Please stop," I begged. "I've had about as much culture shock, pain and mental anguish as I can handle for one day. By all means, light into me tomorrow, but right now I need to get some sleep."
"Good luck with that, Boy,"
I laughed again.
"I smell some serious arousal and it's more than just my bitches," Jethro surmised.
I froze up. He saw my reaction.
"Say 'no' if you're not in the mood, Israel. Remember, you have what they want and they'll wait until you say 'go' because they'll want it again and again."
"Did you ever love anyone, Jethro?" I requested.
"Twice, and I never told either one," he exhaled deeply. "One was an officer I served with and the other was the wife of a good friend. I've made all kinds of excuses for my cowardice and I regret them all. You are doing better with this than I was. Better yet, they give a damn about you."
That was it for us. For once, I didn't feel uncomfortable with the silence. We found Roni and Paisley in Silent's room. Roni was currently working on Kuiko and even kept her seated when Kuiko tried to get up and come to me as I entered the room. I looked from Kuiko to Silent.
"She's lucky," Roni answered my visual inquiry. "Five wounds. Nothing life threatening. Her armored vest saved her life, that's for sure."
"So, who are you going to sleep with?" Roni asked.
"How big is the bed?" I requested.
"Queen-sized," was the answer.
"Do you think anyone would be too pissed if I asked Capri?" I inquired.
"I don't see a problem," Roni smiled. Kuiko lowered her eyes and looked sad.
"Is Kuiko okay?" I questioned.
"She's fine," Roni teased. In some ways, Roni understood the undercurrents of my humor.
"Are you coming, Kuiko?" I looked at her. "I did say I wanted a hot, sexy, exotic troll sleeping with me tonight. You still game?"
She almost bowled me over, she jumped on me so fast.
"I take that to be a 'yes'," Paisley remarked. I took my best buddy and went hunting for the room I had been gifted with. No one took my request for Capri poorly and the three of us crawled under the covers together.
The lights were out, all movement had ceased and I was fading into sleep. My old nemesis: proximity was crumbling under the rollercoaster of motions and fatigue.
"Kuiko, I'm going to lick his nipple," Capri whispered. "You game?"
"Can I?" Kuiko pleaded. I wasn't sure who she was asking. I'd like to assume it was me.
I groaned. Capri snuggled up against me and she felt out my left nipple in the darkness. Her tongue quickly followed. Kuiko was a few fingers behind her. I groaned again.
"Do you think a little lesbian action will get him turned on?" Capri giggled. "Up for it?"
"Okay," Kuiko chirped. I rolled over onto my stomach and started weeping into my pillow.
"That's okay, Israel," Capri murmured, "We'll stop this time, but don't ever be mean to us again, or the sexual taunts and innuendo will be much, much worse."
I sobbed.
"Good boy."
They left me alone after that.
Past Midnight:
In hindsight, it was stupidly easy to find me, if you knew what to look for. In this case, all they needed to know, were the names of the occupants of my apartment Wednesday morning and the names and home addresses of their closest acquaintances. Everyone on the list had either deactivated their phone and personal computer, or was easily locatable in the city ~ except Jethro MacFarlane. A small, stealth drone fly-over scanning for infra-red signatures suggested a huge number of houseguests. A special 'ping' (courtesy of a blood transfusion a few days earlier) verified I was on the premises.
There were several hiccups between our visitors rolling off the highway and saying 'hello.’ Jethro had a number of sensors on his property to make him aware of unwanted trespassers, as we'd witnessed with Flame's and Silent's arrival. Neutralizing them took about five minutes. Figuring out his place was an architectural jigsaw puzzle was another seven minutes in the planning and implementation phase.
Their prime mission was locating my body within the domicile. Their secondary concern was the copious amount of firearms they were discovering around the locale through the use of magnetic sensors. In their favor, they had been chosen time and time again for being innovative, highly adaptive, clever and courageous.
"Israel," a female voice whispered to me. "Capri and Kuiko, is it?"
I awoke, swallowing my heart. A slumbering Kuiko mumbled something. Capri was far more alert. She quickly rose up on her elbows.
"What the; Jen? What the fuck are you doing here?" she hissed to the newcomer.
"Jen?" I focused. "Ah; everyone here is friendly. Let me contact the others before something goes wrong." If the Vanishers were inside Jethro's place, Jethro, Angel and Flame could still cause things to take a tragic twist.
"We have discovered a few automatic rifles and an anti-air missile on site," Jen smiled. "Care to explain?"
Judgement call time.
"The homeowner is former MRA. He quit when they started killing non-governmental targets and has been sitting on the sidelines since then," I explained. "Also, there are two very recently-former mobster here as well; one badly banged up; plus one 'very-former' Metropolitan Police Officer; Angel Kristi."
"Hey," Kuiko tried to make sense of Jen, who was crouched at the foot of our bed. It was difficult to make her out clearly because she had a hood on and what I thought might be night-vision goggles raised up on her forehead. She was otherwise dressed in some drab camouflage-pattern combat dress and body armor, despite Jen being the Nasa member of the Vanisher team assigned to 'vanishing' me. She also had a sleekly-lethal looking weapon pointed at the ceiling. It was an ultra-modern, sound-suppressed death-dealer made for close-quarters fighting.
"Hey," Jen nodded slightly. "I don't suppose you feel like departing with us now?" was aimed my way.
"I've already got an exit plan I'm working on," I murmured.
"How about Capri inform the rest of the house you have company then?" Jen grinned. "The rest should get off the main road."
"Rest of you?" I gulped.
"Okay," Capri slid out of bed.
"I'll go too," Kuiko offered.
"No," Jen shook her head (to Kuiko). "Yes ~ rest of us ~ and I think we'd rather have 'Red' handle this,”
"Because I'm a lawyer?" Capri guessed bitterly.
"No; because you are level-headed," Jen snickered. "You are also short, so we can shoot over you if something bad happens."
"Gee thanks," Capri snorted. As she headed for the door, Zara slipped into the room backward. She had a weapon similar to Jen's and a rifle slung over her back.
"Brandi will be sticking with her," Jen informed me. Zara remained by the door, scanning for outside threats. Providence was kind, though Flame insisted I come by before she exited her room. Jethro was, I couldn't say if he was confused, or humbled. He'd come face to face with Special Forces troopers and been overwhelmed in his own home. A quick look at me confirmed I'd told them the most pertinent details.
When the Vanisher Team Leader, Casper, showed up, she and another member took Jethro aside for a brief chat. I wanted to tag along. They wouldn't allow it. I was rather surprised when they returned because he seemed rather upbeat (and alive). Her pronouncement was he could keep his guns. If he pointed any of them at me, or the other guys, they'd kill him and he'd agreed to the 'deal.’ I was thinking 'other guys?'
Fifteen minutes after being awoken, I was part of the pow-wow between what was now 'my' group, the Vanishers and Jethro. Angel, Flame and Capri wanted to be with me. 'Captain' Casper nixed that idea. I could have one and only one. She had one lady; her cell's 'Intelligence' Officer; Wendy (later to be known as 'The Good Witch'). Jethro was part of the discussion because he was a combat veteran, the homeowner and had specifics on the arms stockpile they were sitting on.
I thought it over. I chose Flame. Angel was disappointed. Capri was contemplative over me picking the psycho. She got it quickly. I hadn't picked the sick-fuck; I had picked the career criminal who might have knowledge the cop and very green lawyer might not possess. Both Flame and Jethro were likely to have any piece of obscure city lore as Angel, so I had that angle covered.
The three guys: Pierre Thomas ~ 18 year old college freshman who played 6 musical instruments, Barabbas Chebaya~ 22 year old plumber journeyman, and Lowry Pritchard ~ 23 year old unemployed artist or house-painter or man with a criminal record (anti-social juvenile antics). They all appeared bitter, sullen and were uncommunicative, except to let everyone know they thought Jethro's place was a dump and wanted to know when they would be moving to someplace safer.
The last question was the reason for Casper's twelve women Vanisher team being in Jethro's house and their conference with myself, Flame and Jethro. Casper didn't beat around the bush.
"We have an issue. The declaration of Martial Law has bollixed our planned exit strategy. We were going to appropriate local Federation Air Force Reserve resources, fly to an unused, closed military base to the southwest and take other transport from there with the eventual goal of meeting with our larger command."
"Now that is no longer possible. Frank; Mr. Jensen; Truman, Brandi and Jen seem to believe you have developed an alternate, independent escape scenario," she addressed me. Alternate and independent were polite ways of saying she suspected I had planned to escape from the Vanishers all along, which was almost true.
My first plan had me using the Vanishers to leave our society, then abandoning them too. Later, I had figured out staying with them was the best bet for me and my friends to survive the upcoming calamity, so I'd left breadcrumbs for them to find me; namely my meeting with Francesca and my parting words with Dimples. I had figured we'd be having this 'reunion' in Cody, not here, but I shouldn't have underestimated them, again.
"Truman? Truman is Zara?"
"Yeah," Casper nodded. "Truman is Zara."
"Very well then, I have a medium-term solution. I was hoping Mr. MacFarlane would have the short-term solution to get us from the city outskirts to that destination. Jethro?"
"Which way we headed?" he asked.
"West."
"Fancy that," he smiled. "Just so happens I know of a pre-Plague burgh west of here which is a ghost town now. There is an old ferry there which should get us across the Mississippi," he confided. That should be the biggest issue: the river was utterly un-fordable and all the bridges would be monitored. How foresighted of him. Casper's nod appeared to be in agreement with me.
"Power plant?" she inquired.
"An old diesel I finished converting to bio-fuel around twenty years ago. I've kept it up since then, though I wouldn't put much faith in it being good for more than two, or three trips. The distillery I cobbled together for the fuel doesn't produce the necessary high octane and the lubricant isn't nearly adequate for something that powerful."
"Jethro, why did you keep a ferry in working order?" I wondered.
"It is the last thing the bitches would look for, if they ever came for me and I had the chance to bolt," he grinned. "Every route south and west is blocked by rivers. East is mostly open country and semi-automated agro-businesses. North is lake country ~ broken ground and so the most likely place I'd run to. They'd waste days there looking for me. By then, I'd have slipped west and hopefully be in the Rockies."
"Okay. Where do we go from there?" Casper's gaze settled back on me.
"The Silverhorn Ranch outside of Cody, Wyoming. My former boss in the Mayor's Office has a cousin who lives there. She will by trying to go there as well," I added, feeling somewhat guilty. By trying to save Francesca, I had risked the rest of us.
"Have you ever been there?"
"No," which implied I was running away to a place which might not exist.
"Good. Have you seen a picture of it? A picture in your boss's office perhaps?"
"No, not that I can recall. We never talked about our families. I didn't get the feeling they were terribly close, which was probably why Francesca brought it up. She's pretty smart too," I reasoned.
"We are all probably betting our lives on that," Jethro remarked.
"We are. Okay, Wyoming works for us," Casper didn't seem upset. "It is not impossible some other agency could track you there amongst the legion of other possibilities, in its favor, it is far away from here. There is only one other issue. Mr. MacFarlane; we need to deactivate your band."
"How is that going to work?" he was deeply suspicious.
"They kill you," I sighed, "then bring you back after inserting a Coroner's Code." It dawned on me the three guys the Vanishers had brought with them had already gone through that procedure. That would be another reason they were unhappy.
"You don't say," Jethro studied Casper intently.
"Jethro, it was done to me years ago. I'm sure they did it to the three guys outside (in the other room) tonight. They'd be doing it to me as well, except a riot cop did them the favor by blasting my bracelet at the M A L Rally two nights ago and I never had the opportunity to have it fixed," I reasoned.
"And just like that, I'm going to let you kill me?" his eyes flickered from me to Casper to Casper's companion.
"Or you don't come with us," Casper offered.
"Why don't we fry it, the way Israel's was by that riot cop?" he suggested.
"It sends out an emergency distress call as it dies," I informed him. "The world may be in chaos, but can we really be certain the authorities won't send somebody out to investigate?"
"And someone to investigate what happened to those people?" Casper added. Sure, we could kill, or kidnap the first band of First Responders. Then what?
"Let me go talk it over with my girls," Jethro evaded.
"Of course. No pressure, Mr. MacFarlane. We can afford to part ways after the ferry if you don't, but that is as far as I can risk my unit if your band stays active," she assured him. Jethro's eyes bore into my soul.
"Fine," he mumbled. Sure, the Vanishers could have been fooling me. It was Casper's genuine last minute compromise which won him over. I imagine placing his life in a woman's hands was the last thing he expected to do 24 hours ago, yet here he was. "How are we going to do this?"
"Not here," Casper gave a sly grin. "We let our vet take your vitals and make you comfortable first. We need to make sure you'll survive the process; we are looking at a 100% success rate to date."
"Vet?" he gave a start.
"Veterinarian," Casper smiled. "She's a trained combat paramedic too, but she's an honest-to-God Dr. of Veterinary Science."
"I'm not sure that makes me feel better," Jethro grumbled.
"She's also an explosive expert," I tossed out there.
"Not helping," he frowned.
"Oh, Casper, we can use Roni too. She's a paramedic with City Services, or was," I recalled. "Paisley is a college junior studying Biology,”
"We'll go with the paramedic assisting," Casper nodded. Out we went. Casper whispered some communications to her crew then had Brandi brief Roni on the procedure they were about to subject Jethro too.
After all the crap Roni had been through, putting a man into cardiac arrest hardly fazed her. Apparently they did it all the time; to large animals, like horses. Jethro calmed his lady-friends down, 'Daddy will be right back', then he lay down on the sofa. I took the time to get a count of the Vanishers; we had 12. Meanwhile, Flame had gone to Angel and exchange a few words. They did what I should have been doing; organizing 'my side.’
As it was, Angel stuck Venus with Flame to watch over things while she, Samantha and Lavender helped the Vanishers move stuff from their vehicles indoors. Capri, Kuiko, Aniqua and Paisley set up sleeping stations for our fifteen new houseguests.
Brandi 'killing' Jethro was rather anti-climactic. She injected him with something. Five minutes later, he closes his eyes, took one deep breath followed by several more stutter-breathes then Brandi pronounced him dead. Wendy had hooked up a wire feed to his bracelet from her laptop computer. She went through a countdown, sent a pre-set command then snipped his bracelet free. Brandi administered the shot to the heart followed by an electric jolt and we got our cantankerous old man back.
"Fuck," he choked out. "Damn, that hurts."
"How was Hell, Old Man?" Flame mocked him.
"Busier than a Drag Bar during Fleet Week," he coughed. "I saw a few of your friends there, promised them you'd be seeing them real soon."
"Ha," Flame chuckled. She punched me. That brought an unnecessary and frightening number of reactions from the armed women around me. "Nope; you must have been delusional. Israel is still here and he's the only friend I got."
"Please do not hit Israel again," Casper stated in a very tightly controlled voice. "We have barely avoided killing you twice already. Don't make 'third time' the charm."
"Oh!" Flame clued in. "The bitches from the bridge. Which one is the sniper?"
"I will not point her out to you so we can avoid the pointless exchange of lead, Flame," I groaned as I rubbed my arm. "Take into account she has eleven exceedingly lethal friends while all you have is me."
"Point," she chortled. "I'll keep my eye out for the one who looks like she can't live another moment without your cock. It shouldn't take long."
I stared at her, mouth agaip.
"Just kidding. They all look like they want a piece of you."
"Not helping!" I shouted back. Yes, I knew every member of the Vanisher team most likely had seen me both nude and having sex with other women. I didn't need to be reminded of it.
I also caught the glance Wendy sent Casper's way.
"I'm pretty sure her knowledge of criminal enterprises in the Midwest will come in real handy," I preempted them. I didn't want them killing Flame either.
"Oh yeah. I know a mother-daughter team of smugglers who operate out of Cedar Rapids," Flame smiled broadly. "I figure they can get us across the Cedar and Iowa Rivers without drawing anyone's notice."
"Why didn't you mention this when we were discussing our exit plans?" Casper glared at Flame.
"I like him. I can barely tolerate the rest of you, and I'm sure the feeling is mutual. I figure I'd better carefully dole out the knowledge I have until the situation shakes out more to my advantage," Flame enlightened the Vanisher leader.
I had known all those factors when I brought her to the meeting. Flame was clever and constantly at Little M's side, so what contacts the Keverich Crime Syndicate had, she was at least aware of. She simply came across as so carefree, brutal and brusque it was going to take time for the rest to appreciate her 'finer' or craftier qualities. I hoped I lived long enough to see it.
It had been a long damn day, and with more stress than was remotely healthy for me given my multiple trips to the precipice of madness, yet I had one final duty to perform. I went to my fellow males and gathered them for what my gut told me was something important to discuss. The Hispanic Vanisher from the metro was hesitant about letting us take a stroll in Jethro's backyard.
As I turned to leave, I caught the old man watching us head out. He gave me a nod. I needed the endorsement since I was burning up what little recovery my short nap had given me.
"We are going out," I told the woman.
"Why?"
"Guy stuff," I told her. That didn't satisfy her curiosity. Her eyes flickered back into the room from whence we came.
"Outside; us; alone," I insisted. I was struggling to sound firm.
"Is that wise? The alone part."
"Good point. Give me a gun," I gently extended my hand.
"Do you even know how to use one?" she tried to hide her ridicule.
"Yeah. Of course I do," I frowned.
"Who taught you to shoot?" she interrogated me. Anger came to my rescue. I had only started by asking to take a damn stroll after all.
"Experts, people really good at killing stuff," I evaded.
"I don't recall reading about that in your file," she kept detaining us.
"It was in my dreams, earlier this week, by Sergeant Major Daniel Joseph Daly, Company Sergeant-Major John R. Osborn and Colonel William O. Darby. All top notch fellas," I convincingly lied. PR training helps with that. Sadly,
"William O. Darby was a Brigadier General," she corrected me.
"Posthumously," I counter-corrected. "Miss,” was left hanging.
"Wes Prince," she supplied her alias.
"Yeah. He's a bit pissed about the belated promotion along with getting gakked two days before the enemy surrendered and having his training methods nearly discarded," I continued. "I am glad we both agree he was a decorated combatant and thus capable of passing on his Warrior's lore. Gun please." I motioned with my hand once more.
She moved her P D W aside and drew her pistol before presenting into to me, ass first. Gingerly, I took it from her and pointed it toward the ceiling while examining it. First problem.
"Where is the safety?" I inquired.
"This model doesn't have one," Wes informed me. Sigh. I figured out the trick for dropping the magazine, examined it; yes, it had bullets, and then checked the chamber by pulling back on it slightly to verify it had a round in it. It did.
I put the magazine back in. I made sure the firearm wasn't pointed at anyone as I lowered it from pointed up to only threatening Mother Earth.
"Thank you," I gave Wes a weak smile. "Come on guys." She didn't move so I was forced to shoulder passed her.
I stepped out into the cool night air. I hadn't realized how the hot and humid Jethro's lodging had become with all the people and the lack of internal air-conditioning. We walked away from the outdoor lighting beyond the wood line.
"Hey guys. I'm Israel Jensen. I think there is something we need to get established right now."
"Can I have the gun?" Lowry reached for it.
"Do you have a clue how to use one?" I refused to flinch. We locked eyes. Instinctively my fist tightened around the pistol grip. I discovered there was truth to the mythology ~ holding a gun is its own kind of empowerment.
I didn't think I was about to shoot Lowry. I did believe if he moved one more inch I was going to smash him upside his head with it though. He backed down.
"Do you have any experience?" he sneered. "Actual experience?"
"Yes. A lady inside showed me how to use one," I stated. "I'm sure if we all behave, we will all have a chance to gain some actual firearms' training."
"Last time I saw a man use a gun, they murdered him," Barabbas pointed out. He meant Robert White, killed by a SWAT (Special Weapons And Tactics) sniper at the M A L (Men's Action League) not so long ago.
"These women are not those women," I insisted. I thought it best not to mention the Vanishers set off the bomb which instigated the riot that led to over a thousand deaths. "They are no longer part of their society."
"So, the 'plague-thing' is real?" Lowry's face darkened in concern.
"I'm convinced. I've seen samples and I know my blood holds the antivirals which counter-act this new Plague. That's peripheral to our current concerns. What matters is 'us' ~ we five guys. Actually, the old guy can take care of himself quite nicely. We four have to get with the program."
"And that would be?" Lowry scowled. The problem I faced was the anti-social nature of every guy who had been selected to be 'vanished.’ Had we been happy members of society, we wouldn't have qualified and wouldn't have said 'yes' if asked to leave.
"We need to let go of the bad crap which made us so we gave up on the Old Order," I began. "I was raped; twice. The second time, Campus Security wouldn't accept my complaint and if I had committed myself I would have lost my scholarship, so I struggled on alone. That second time, I was betrayed by my girlfriend to her sorority."
Pause.
"When I was fourteen, my sister, older sister had some friends over for a party," Pierre opened up. "Mom worked nights."
"What did she give you?" Barabbas asked.
"A Blazers hoodie, later, some new high-tops," Pierre smiled feebly. "I got to go to some NC-17 movies and a few outdoor concerts too."
"Oh," I nodded as did the others. That was the reality for most boys. We grew up with single mothers who had to work, so our care was often shared with other women; either older family members ~ aunts, or sisters ~ or neighbors who were virtually always women as well. We had to trust these women, and so did our Moms. And if something happened? Our families still had to live, go to school with and or work with those women and their female relatives.
To be continued
By FinalStand for Literotica