Chapter 17
I recovered rather quickly this time, I guess I’m getting better at it. Debra, not so much. Her wound became infected and she spent four days in the clinic being treated for sepsis. Unfortunately, they had to treat her for a miscarriage also. Apparently, the septic infection caused her to lose the baby. She was only six weeks along and didn’t even know, Doctor Horne said it could have been much worse. She cried for two days straight and kept apologizing to me as if it was her fault. All I did was hold her, tell her how much I loved her, that it wasn’t her fault, and we had plenty of time when she was ready to try again. I had an empty place in me where the joy of a child might have been; I know it was a lot worse for her.
The troops from Holloman stayed a week and helped us clean up and reorganize. Out of the four hundred and fifty men that attacked us, the Air Force took one hundred and forty-seven back to Holloman with them. The rest we buried in a mass grave. We split their usable weapons, gear, and trucks, but the Air Force got more of the trucks than we did and we got more of the weapons and gear. They sent their helicopters back empty to save on fuel and used some of the attacker’s trucks to transport the prisoners and their own troops back home. They also took the Marlows with them; there was talk of trials for crimes against humanity. We’ll see.
With all the equipment and weapons, we captured, Packer was in hog heaven, we could completely equip another two companies of Rangers, or Militia. We were running out of multicam cloth for Militia smocks, so Packer made that one of the priorities for the teams we sent out foraging. We also started salvaging food when we found it. Yes, we had a huge supply of long-term storage food, but Felicia and the governing council wanted to hedge our bets when we could. Another thing we were looking for was equipment and supplies for preserving food. Packer wanted equipment for reloading expended ammo, but it was hard to find. Our salvaging groups were roaming farther out all the time and there was talk of sending teams to Tucson and Albuquerque, Holloman said they were laying claim to El Paso; hitting the smaller towns wasn’t helping a lot.
Eventually, Debra became her old self and once again started joining Thomas’ 4th Squad when it patrolled and trained. I rejoined the Militia squad I was a member of and started doing closer in patrols and increased levels of training. The Militia was beginning to shine and it started to be used as a supplement to the Rangers. Packer started picking the cream of the Militia and actually incorporating them into the Rangers. They were becoming increasingly professional in their attitudes and abilities. The trucks we captured became transportation for the Rangers and salvage crews and they worked really well. The only problem with them was, they were foreign manufactured and it was difficult to find spare parts for them; Packer started searching for National Guard Depots where we might find vehicles to replace the ones we had captured as needed. Debra continued as the first Scout Sniper of the Rangers and often could be found training others. Major Packer envisioned at least one Scout Sniper in each squad, but preferably two, one for each fire team.
Occasionally, Debra would be gone for short periods when her squad was sent to patrol, or support with salvage operations. I ended up spending less time working for facilities and more time doing research. Sara’s internet connection needed to be locked in using a satellite dish and when it started becoming erratic the dish would need to be tuned again. The Air Force from Holloman helped us with that and trained several of our people in how to maintain it. The Air Force did more than that though, they connected to our communications and established secure satellite feeds that allowed us to talk back and forth, sort of like the old Facetime. They were also able to break the encryption code on Sara’s computer and now they, and us, have the internet back. One of the Air Force guys referred to it as the Dark Net, whatever that is.
Our patrols and salvage crews made contact with other people when we could, some we brought back to the facility and others were encouraged to stay and develop contacts with others in their region. An entire network began to be developed which involved mutual assistance both militarily and economically. Occasionally, we were forced to intervene when someone, or a group of someones, became problematic. There always seemed to be those who felt the need to control everyone around them and it simply was not tolerated. Slavery began to raise its ugly head again and the Rangers dealt harshly with it when we found it. In Albuquerque we found an enclave of blacks, and one of Latinos, that were vying for control of the city. I was sent along with several others to see if we could formulate a way for the separate groups to work together, but we finally left them to their fates. Judging from the unreasonable hatred from both sides, I came to the conclusion that the city had been a victim of the aerosol the ZPG people developed.
When they weren’t busy with other concerns, Sara and Felicia worked together in an attempt to develop a test we could use to find those who had been contaminated. It was slow going though, even with people like Debra and I, who we knew had been contaminated, to use as sample providers. I wondered if the effects would die out once everyone who had been contaminated had passed away, if so, it might be decades before we might see an end to its problems.
On Christmas Eve, Gillian Packer performed the first marriage ceremonies in the facility. There were ten of us who pledged ourselves to our lovers. Debra and I, Dan and Danni, Felicia and Dak, Rich and Nadia, and finally, Ted and Sara. I had no real attachment to my last name, after all, it had been arbitrarily assigned to me at birth, so I asked Debra how she would feel about our married name being, Tarn. She was a little hung up on the tradition of the woman accepting the man’s name and she said she, like me, had no attachment to her own. We even thought about creating a new one which would be a mixture of the two. The closest we came to agreeing on was, Tarth, but it sounded kind of lame. We went with Tarn, so now I am known as Daniel Tarn; still with no middle name. I get some good-natured ribbing now and again about who wears the pants in the house, but as long as it’s good natured, who gives a shit. Surprisingly, several other husbands have since adopted their new wives’ last name also. It kind of makes sense actually, you can never be really sure who the father is, but you always know who the mother is. I don’t think it will become a widespread practice though; people like to hang on to their traditions. Who knows?
Bellows returned shortly after the attack; Tucson was a total bust and the Air National Guard facility was a burned-out ruin. Even the aircraft were burned, surprisingly, all the aviation fuel had been removed, but they were able to bring back two tankers of clear diesel and two of high-octane gasoline. Packer wants us to start collecting fuel when we can and bring it back here; it might be a while before we can find a working refinery.
Holloman reported they had established communication with Fort Bliss in El Paso and told them about us having a working society. They agreed to stay in communication with us as well because we were the only organized civilian government they had found, so far. I’m not saying they placed their selves under Governor Ortiz’s authority by any means, but they were working with us. They did warn us there were American Military units around that had been affected by whatever had been sprayed on the cities, and were unreliable to various degrees. That can be worrisome.
Our new communication room has been expanded and now inhabits the second level of the Marlow condo. Holloman helped us set it up and they even installed two communication towers for us. One is for normal radios and one is for the satellite link. We have a variety of both military radios and commercial Ham radios and they are both giving us a huge amount of information. There are a lot more people out there than we realized and they want to talk. We have even contacted U.S. Naval Vessels at sea.
Felicia is attempting to get more people to start taking part in community efforts and one of the things she is considering is starting some sports leagues. As a result, she performed a poll to find out what sports people would be interested in playing. The only sport I was ever allowed to participate in was Parks and Recs Flag Football and that was for one season. I loved it at the time, but for the life of me, I could never throw a forward pass. Towards the end of the season, the father of one of the other kids offered to examine my wrists to see if he could correct the situation. He was a chiropractor and used to come to practice every day and work on my wrist joints, within a week, I could actually throw a forward pass, just like everyone else. It was weird, but he said it was actually fairly common. I was still used as a receiver and defensive back, but at least I could warmup with the rest of the guys and they stopped making fun of me.
The bad thing was, after the season was over and he was no longer able to see me, my wrists began to stiffen again and I lost the ability to keep passing a football. I used to hate it when we played football in P.E. Class because I was guaranteed to once again become the target of all the assholes. The Rangers and the Militia actually started a Coed Flag Football League and naturally, Debra wanted us to be on a team with Danni, Dan, Banner, Sara, Rich, Nadia, Dak and Felicia. Each team would field eight players and I reluctantly agreed. I remembered all of the crap I put up with when I was a kid, so when everyone was deciding what positions we would play, I stayed out of the running for quarterback. Debra, can throw a football! And she can throw it accurately! Unfortunately, it led to what became our first nasty fight. Oh sure, we’ve had arguments, show me a couple who don’t and I’ll call bullshit. It was the first time we had a practice and Debra wanted me to warm up with her before we started running drills and after she passed the ball to me the first time, I threw it back underhanded. Don’t ask me why, but for some reason if I pass the ball underhanded, I can throw a perfect spiral, but over the shoulder? Nope, not going to happen. She responded with, “Come on, Hon, throw it to me, I’m not spun sugar.” She threw me another pass and I returned it the same way I had before. “Daniel, come on! I can catch it! Now throw me the damn ball!”
She threw a ripper at me and I caught it with one hand before I walked across the intervening space and handed the ball to her. “Dan, you are starting to piss me off! I don’t need for you to take it easy on me because I’m a girl, I’m damn good at sports and I want you to man up and act like you have a little respect for me, understand?”
I started to snap at her, but before I exploded, I took a deep breath and released it slowly. Everyone else had stopped and were watching as Danni said, “Geez, Debbie, he just wanted to make sure you could catch it before he started laying them in.”
“I don’t need to be treated like some limp-wristed little whiny bitch, god damn it!”
“I have never, treated you that way,” I said. “And I never will. I know how competitive you can be, but you need to reign in your emotions. Let me know when you have.” I turned and started walking away back towards the entrance to Phase One.
“You’re quitting? Are you shitting me?” She ran up beside me and tried to grab my arm and turn me around, but I kept walking. “Fine! Go on! If you can’t treat me like an equal then go ahead and run away! Go pout in your…” She stopped talking and caught up with me again. “Hey, hey, Daniel, uh, listen, I’m sorry, uh, really, I…”
“Not now, Debra, I think we need a little break from one another. When you’re finished with practice, we’ll talk then.”
“But…”
I kept walking and I guess she decided maybe it might be a good idea to let me go, which it was. I wasn’t going to hit her, or anything like that and she knew it, but it was a good idea to drop it. I was barely keeping myself under control.
I went back to the apartment and had a beer, then I dragged one of our folding chairs outside and slouched down while I sipped on the quart bottle. The bad thing about quarts is, they have a tendency to get warm before you’re finished. After a while, I went back in and brought out another chair I could prop my feet up on and continued to sip on the rapidly warming brew. Another half-hour and I grabbed a good size salad bowl, filled it with ice and set the bottle of beer in it when I wasn’t taking a drink.
And then the absolutely unthinkable happened, Stella Morrison came walking down the lane, smiling and waving…at me…shit.
“Hi, Daniel!”
“Hello, Stella.” We ran into each other occasionally, and I generally tried to be, not friendly per se, but I don’t know, neighborly? Let’s just say I normally tried to keep our conversations succinct.
“Where’s your wife?”
“Busy.”
“Oh, yeah, I think someone said they saw her playing at football with some other men topside. Doesn’t that bother you, or are things not so good lately?” She placed her hand on the back of the chair my feet were on and leaned on it.
“Things are just fine, Stella, is there something I can do for you?” I kept looking at the corner I knew Debra would be walking around on her way home. I did not need her coming while Stella was playing games.
“No, nothing at all. I saw you sitting here all alone and thought I would stop and say hi.”
“Ah, did I look lonely?”
“I might describe it as, more at ease, more approachable.” She smiled and looked at the chair; I think she was hoping I might offer her a seat, I didn’t. I pulled the beer from the ice and took a sip, “Oh,” she said. “Is that some of the famous beer that Daniel Smith brews?”
I nodded.
“Could I try a little? I’ve heard it’s really good.”
“Dan keeps a small quantity at the Exchange for sale, you can try there, but usually it’s sold out. Stella, why are you here? You must realize that if Debra comes home and finds you hanging out, it’s going to cause problems.” At that very moment, two people came around the corner of the lane behind Stella and strolled our way. For a moment I started to panic until I saw it wasn’t Debra, but Major Packer and Gilly. I relaxed.
“Daniel, if my visiting causes problems for you, then there is already trouble in paradise.” She had a wickedly seductive smile on her lips.
Packer and Gilly stopped and Gilly said, “Stella? The problem won’t be Daniel’s, it will be yours. I believe I warned you about trying to play with things that aren’t yours? I’m certain I did.”
Stella jumped and straightened up as she turned to face Gilly. “Oh, hi Mrs. Packer! I was just keeping company with Daniel. His wife is topside with a number of men and…”
“And their wives? Is that what you were going to say?”
I removed my feet from the chair and asked, “Gilly, why don’t you have a seat?” I stood and asked the Major, “Why don’t you take this chair, Sir, and I’ll bring out another?”
“Thanks, Daniel, these old bones aren’t what they used to be.” What a crock of bull that was; he was probably in better shape than me.
“Would the two of you like a glass of homebrew?”
Gilly smiled and said, “Why thank you, Daniel, yes, please.”
Packer smiled and nodded.
“I’ll be right back,” I said. I entered the apartment and collected three glasses and another quart of brew. With the beer pressed to my side by my left arm and the glasses in my left hand, I brought another chair out with me. Stella was rapidly disappearing down the lane and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank you,” I said.
Gilly laughed, “I thought you looked like you needed to be rescued.”
Packer said, “I consider the whole operation as a rescue of Stella, Debra and everyone else are going to be here any minute.”
I handed the glasses to Gilly and the Major and then the bottle of beer as I opened the chair and sat down. Retrieving the beer, I filled their glasses and then the third for me from the remnants of the bottle in the salad bowl. “Is she really coming?” I asked.
They both nodded and then Gilly said, “I was looking out the window when you and Debra had that little spat. I also saw Stella watching the whole thing and then she took off and I thought, uh oh, so I waited until Jerry was free and here, we are; looks like we were just in time.”
“Thanks again, I wonder if she was hoping Debra would come home and find her here?”
“My guess? Probably, I know how you can be, you always seem surprised when people do crappy things.”
I shrugged, “Not really, I mean, I’m not surprised when people do stuff like that, but it surprises me when they, when they…” I didn’t know how to say it.
Gilly chuckled and said, “When they try to sabotage your relationship in order to get their claws into you?”
I smiled and nodded.
“You are just as self-effacing as Debra says you are.” This time, Gilly didn’t laugh, she just gently smiled, “You’re a good man, Daniel, you are exactly the man Debra deserves.”
To hear her say that meant a great deal to me, but before I could say so, Debra and the gang walked around the corner and headed for the three of us. “Here they come,” I said. “I have some explaining to do.”
The closer the group came; the faster Debra was walking. When she reached us, she scooted through between us and straight through the open front door. I leaned over so I could watch her; she went straight to the bedroom and closed the door. I stood up as Danni reached us and she said, “You better go in there, she’s really kicking herself in the ass.”
“I’ve been doing the same thing, you guys know where the beer and glasses are, we’ll be out in a minute.”
I walked into the apartment and gently knocked on the door, “Babe? Can I come in?”
“Yes, but I don’t know why you would want to,” I slipped through the door and closed it behind me. Her eyes were bloodshot and her nose was glowing red; a sure sign she had been crying.
I walked over and kneeled in front of her, “I want to because I screwed up and I love you.”
“No, you didn’t, I did. I was the one being a bitch. You were just trying to see what I could do before you started throwing the ball to me. You wanted to be sure I wasn’t going to get hurt if you threw the ball too hard. I know that and it pissed me off. I let the anger get hold of me and…” She started to softly cry.
“Hey, hey! That’s not what I’m saying. That’s not what I was thinking. Do you know why that happened? Why you got so pissed, so fast?”
“Because I’m a self-centered Bitch?”
“Stop it. We both know why we get angry, because of the shit we were contaminated with. We keep it controlled because we don’t want to hurt other people’s feelings, right?”
“Yes.”
“You trust me, so you relax your guard a little, and every once in a while, you bite me, because you trust me not to over-react and I love you so much because of that. I know you trust me not to turn away from, us.”
“The people we love are the ones we should treat with the most respect and kindness, the way you do, not the way I have done.”
“Come on, you’re being kind of hard on yourself, don’t you think?” I pushed her knees apart and scooted between them as I started stroking her back with my hands.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “You know how I react when you do that, I can’t help myself when you do that.”
“I know, it’s because you love me, no one else will ever love me the way you do, and I will never love anyone else the way I love you.” She pressed her face into my neck and relaxed as she sighed. “And I wasn’t throwing the ball to you underhanded to take it easy on you or to test you to see if you were up to the challenge. Come on,” I said as I stood up and held my hands out to her. “I need to show you something.”
“What?”
“Come on, you’ll see when we get outside.”
“No, everyone was chewing on my ass for the way I talked to you. I’m ashamed and embarrassed.”
“Yeah? Well, everybody will probably be laughing their asses off in a few minutes, so come on.”
She looked at me for a moment, and then said, “I guess I deserve whatever you’re going to do to make me look like a fool, so, alright.”
She reached out, grabbed my hands and I pulled her up as I said, “I will never do that to you.” I held her hand and led her outside where the others were waiting. Dan was flipping a football back and forth between his hands and I asked if I could borrow it. He tossed it to me and I led Debra out into the lane, “Walk over there,” I said.
As she walked away, I retreated from her and when there was sufficient distance, I told her to stop. Everyone was watching us, so I said, “Try not to laugh too hard, okay?”
I pulled back my arm and launched the ball in Debra’s direction, as always, it tumbled through the air and she had to take several steps forward in order to catch it. The expression of surprise on her face was laughable. “I can’t throw a football,” I said. “Underhand? No problem, over the shoulder it ain’t going to happen. It’s embarrassing and that’s the reason I was throwing it underhanded.”
Debra started walking back towards me and Dak started laughing, “You can’t throw a football? Anyone can throw a football! Hell, even I can teach you to do that.” A well-aimed toss of the ball hit Dak in the side of the head, “Ow!” and then Felicia punched him in the chest, “Ow! Damn, what did I do?”
“Dak,” Felicia was scowling at him, “Knock it off! Your inner child is demonstrating its immaturity.”
“Good grief!” He muttered as he rubbed the side of his head and his chest.
I laughed at him and said, “Back in the day, you would have been chewing grass right now. I didn’t like it when people made fun of my passing expertise.”
“So, you really can’t throw a football? For real?” He asked.
Felicia popped him in the chest again, “Dak! What is your problem?”
I explained about the chiropractor and my wrists, and then Debra asked, “Can you throw a softball, or baseball?”
“Better than a football, but not very far.” I shrugged.
“Okay,” Dan said, “No one ever give Daniel a grenade, we’re screwed if he tries to throw a live one.” The guys, even Packer thought that was funny as hell, but Danni punched him in the arm.
“Danny?”
“Sorry, damn, give me a break here, okay?”
Gilly shook her head and then said, “Men, we have to find at least one redeemable quality just to be able to be around them.” The girls, including Debra laughed; I was happy to hear her laughter.
We took part in the first season of flag football, but we only took second place. That was okay, because by the time the finals came around, Dan had a pretty good production of Marvin Beer going and we had a big outside bar-be-que. Some of the surrounding ranch people were invited and they said they would like to take part in the next league. Sounds interesting. Most of the people at the Facility are under thirty, or close to it, but we do have some teenagers in the population. There are maybe twenty to twenty-five kids between the ages of fourteen and eighteen. That number was doubled by the kids from Las Cruces, so we are pushing fifty teenagers who, like most kids their age, are testing boundaries.
The Major put his foot down when he caught a couple of boys and girls tagging the Administration Center with some fairly foul language. He locked them up and had them on bread and water until Felicia and the community could decide what to do with them. Stella and a couple of other teachers from Las Cruces finally quit dicking around and got the school going. We are now teaching school from preschool to twelfth grade and Stella is working up a community college affair to teach the first two years of college.
Packer floated another item that didn’t get very far at first, but then started gaining traction. Mandatory Militia training starting at the age of twelve for both boys and girls. I’m not talking about combat training like the original Auxiliary performed; the kids would be taught a class of military tradition, History, and marksmanship starting at the age of twelve and continuing until the age of eighteen. The last year of training would be more intensive with support roles within the Militia, or Rangers. The kids would be called Cadets and would be assigned to the Militia, or Rangers as per their personal request.
When the rest of the people who lived in our vicinity heard of the school and the early Militia training the kids were receiving, first a few, and then many more requested permission for their children to join in the process. From age twelve to fifteen, the co-ed organization is closely modeled on the Boy Scouts; from the age of sixteen to seventeen, the training becomes increasingly militaristic in nature. Each class of seventeen-year-olds were to be given intensive final exams and a ten-day field exercise much like the one I had taken part in, but longer. There were exemptions for people who were Conscientious Objectors. All students who passed their exams were expected to then serve two years of active service in the Militia, or the Rangers.
I know, expecting people to turn over their children to someone they don’t know so the children can be trained to be soldiers is asking a lot, but sometimes things can happen that suddenly change peoples’ perception of safety and security. In our case, it started with the home invasion of an elderly retired couple, sixteen miles from the Facility.
I had just awakened when the alarm came over the P.A. System, “Yellow Alert, Yellow Alert, 1st Squad, 1st Platoon, B Company, Militia, report to the Ready Room with weapons and away gear ASAP.” That was me and as I dressed and gathered my gear, Debra dressed also.
“What do you think is going on?” I asked Debra.
“No idea, but let’s hurry, they wouldn’t be calling a yellow alert if it wasn’t important.” Debra kept the majority of her gear in the squad bay, but her basic combat gear she brought home to the apartment every night.
“They’re calling my squad, Babe, not yours.”
“I know, but I have duty today anyway, so I may as well gear up and go with you at the same time.”
I picked up my ALICE pack and slung it over one shoulder while I waited for her at the door. She finished strapping off her armor vest, picked up her bullpup and glanced around the room. “I wish I had time to straighten up a bit; the place is a mess.”
“We’ll do it tonight before everyone comes over; it won’t take long.”
She placed her hand on my pack, “Rations?”
“MRE sandwiches, main entrees, Raman noodles, instant rice, ect. Enough for seven days of light meals, two a day.”
“Ranger Taco?”
“Got it.”
“Mags?”
“Six on the Flick, six in the lid of the pack, four in the pouch, center back of my sustainment belt.”
“Hydration?”
“Debra…”
“Sorry, Hon, just worried about you.”
“I know, probably nothing to worry about though. Someone probably heard a deer in the brush and we’re going to do a perimeter patrol.”
She stepped through the door and waited while I closed and locked it. “Let’s go,” I said.
We jogged side-by-side and I was glad we had started running every other evening, the weight I was carrying was substantial, but my breathing had scarcely increased when we arrived. I took a sip of water from my hydration pack strapped to the top of the ALICE as we entered the Ready Room. When Becker broke my nose, it had never been set well and as a result, I was an official mouth breather, so my mouth had a tendency to dry out as I ran. We weren’t the first to arrive, Shayla Lincoln had that distinction, but the rest of the squad arrived within minutes. I set my pack on one of the tables and poured a cup of coffee from the RR coffee table. “Babe?” I held it out to her and she gratefully accepted it. I poured another for myself and added cream and sugar before I sat down and quietly talked to Debra and Shayla as we waited. Through the windows of Packer’s office, I could see him talking to several civilians I didn’t recognize.
Eventually, he looked out the windows and saw us waiting, he pointed to us and then the door of his office. The three men filed out and the Major followed them. As he entered the Ready Room, Shayla stood up and said, “Commanding Officer in the room, ATTENHUT!”
We all stood to attention as Packer walked to the center of the front of the room, “At ease, 1st Squad. Sargent Lincoln?”
“Sir, 1st Squad, 1st Platoon, B Company, present, or accounted for.”
“I see nine of you, Sargent, where’s your number ten?”
“Sir, the person I’m short is Stacy Menendez, she had her appendix removed yesterday. She’s in the Clinic, Major.”
“I see, Sargent Tarn, Menendez is Sargent Lincoln’s Tracker, feel up to some field work?”
“I’ll need to get my gear, Sir, but as you wish.”
“Good, I know I can count on you.” He pointed to the three civilians and said, “This is Carl Maniker and his two sons. Last night, someone broke into his elderly parents’ home, murdered both of them and kidnapped Mister Maniker’s thirteen-year-old granddaughter. They then stole a weapon and a large amount of long-term storage food. We would like 1st squad to assist the Manikers in tracking down the person, or persons, responsible. Sargent Lincoln, the motor pool is bringing over a Unimog for your use, you may leave when it arrives with the Manikers as your guides.”
Lincoln saluted and said, “Yes, Sir!”
Lincoln walked forward and began talking to the three men as Debra said, “I’ll be right back, Hon, I’m going to get my gear.”
I nodded and then picked up my pack and walked outside where the rest of the squad was assembling. There had been some changes in 1st Squad and some new faces. In fact, Shayla, Stacy, John Trench, and myself were the only remnants of the original squad; the rest were killed the night of the attack. There had been some good people in it before, the ones we had now were all just as good, just as dedicated. I bumped fists with the other members and then Shayla rejoined us as we waited for the truck to arrive.
John Trench stepped over next to me and asked, “Tough break for Stacy, but I’m good to go with Debbie; where is she?”
“Yeah, Stacy is really going to be pissed she missed this, Debra is getting her gear now.”
“Good, don’t get me wrong, Stacy’s a good tracker, but Debbie is the best and it gives us another DMR also.”
I nodded and smiled at the complement he gave her, “Yeah, she won’t show it, but she really likes the people in 1st Squad, she says Packer has his eye on us and considers us one of the best; I guess he rates us up there with Rangers.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
I nodded again and then waved at Debra as she exited Phase One and joined the squad. I smiled at her and asked, “Ammo?”
I thought I might get a rise from her, but instead she tapped the front of her armor vest and said, “Six full mags here,” then her sustainment belt, “Two more thirties and four twenties of IMI.” The four magazines of Israeli Military Industry ammunition were what Debra used when she was shooting for accuracy as a Designated Marksman. Though it was the Israeli version of our own M855 ammunition, its ballistics were more consistent. She pointed to the top of her Alice Medium Ruck and the bandoleer strapped there, “Four more thirties on the ruck.” I carried six in my bandoleer, but Debra used the center pocket of her bandoleer to carry her weapons cleaning kit.
“Hydration?” We went through the list and I noticed the rest of the squad started doing the same. They were just as serious as Debra was.
One of the Maniker brothers stopped next to Debra and I, and asked, “You folks always do this? Double check each other?”
Debra, dead serious said, “Always, we care about each other and want to make sure each of us is good to go.”
He frowned as he looked around, “I’d feel better if they had enough men to form a squad instead of a coed soiree.”
Debra stared hard at him for a moment and then turned her back to him as she started going through her pack. I could tell, his day was coming. “This soiree, as you put it, is preparing to put their lives on the line to rescue your daughter, or niece. You might want to keep that in mind.”
“My niece,” he said. “I’d rather have men watching my back instead of Playboy models.”
“I guess you plan on coming with the team as we track your niece’s abductors?” He nodded. “I suggest you hang back and stay out of our way; maybe we will be successful.”
“If you think I’m staying behind…”
“The only thing I’m saying is, stay out of the way and let us do the job you asked us to do.” He abruptly walked away and rejoined his father and brother where he began to animatedly discuss what I knew would be his objections to women on the team. “What an ass,” I said as I watched him.
Debra glanced over at them and shook her head, “The man’s a potbellied bull in a china shop. I’ll talk to Shayla and we’ll probably leave him in the dust after the first mile or so.”
I chuckled, “Sounds like a plan.”
The truck finally arrived and we loaded up with Shayla in the front seat and John Trench driving. The Manikers got into their own pickup truck and led the way. A half-hour later, we pulled onto a gravel road and spent another twenty minutes of driving on dirt after the gravel gave out. The house we finally arrived at looked well-kept with a manicured front and rear lawn. There was laundry hung on a clothes line that a middle-aged woman was taking down and placing in a basket and several armed men in civilian clothing who were loitering about. I guess it was their idea of providing security. A small backhoe was parked near what appeared to be two fresh graves under a large pine tree.
We off-loaded and set up our own security perimeter and waited as Carl Maniker and Shayla walked to a back gate to the yard and studied the ground, then she called Debra over. I followed as a three-way discussion started. “Debra, Mister Maniker says the only prints they found were through this gate, both coming and going.”
The red soil was heavily imprinted with older boot prints and ones that appeared to be fresher, “Did your people walk over the prints?” Debra asked.
“Of course, we did,” Maniker replied. “We followed the tracks to the tree line and a little farther, but they started getting harder to track because the soil gets rocky out there.” I looked into the distance to the tree line and wondered if the murderers were out there watching, as we prepared to start after them.
“So, your people stopped at the tree line, or continued to follow. If so, how far?” Debra asked.
“I’m not sure, we were going to track them ourselves, but one of the neighbors said you people had professional trackers, but I’m wondering if you folks are up to the job, you’re already asking questions that lead me to think you would just as soon crawl back into that hole you came out of.”
Debra straightened back up from the mish mash of prints and started to reply, but Shayla cut her off, “No one is trying to duck out on your granddaughter, Mister Maniker, we are simply trying to find out how far the tracks we need to follow have been compromised.” She gave a sharp whistle and then signaled, Rally on Me. “We’re going to head out now, when we have news, we’ll be back.”
“Oh no, we’re coming with you!” He turned to his sons and said, “Grab your rifles boys, let’s get this dog and pony show on the road.”
The two younger men turned away and headed for the house as the rest of the squad collected together, “Okay, everyone, Debra is our tracker, but keep an eye out for sign someone has left the trail. Spread out to the left and right, we’re going to double-time it to the tree line and then establish the trail they took. Once in the trees, hand signals only, watch for sign off the trail, and be ready to respond to an ambush. Debra, you have point as tracker, Daniel, you’re covering her six while she works and I’ll be behind you, ten-meter intervals.” She glanced around and then gave Debra the go ahead, “Let’s roll.”
Debra set out at a quick jog and the rest of us fell into our positions. We looked like an inverted ‘V’ as we quickly crossed the field and reached the tree line. Debra scanned the ground and then jogged another hundred meters before she held up her closed fist and dropped to one knee as she examined the trail. I stood close-by and scanned the woods as she studied the ground, so she could concentrate on what she was recording in her notebook.
Shayla walked forward and said, “The Manikers have already turned back; what have you got?”
Debra glanced up between scratching two parallel lines on the path, “I’m getting ready to determine how many people we are following.” With the lines marked, she began to count and eventually said, “Looks like eight, we’re following eight individuals with boots and one small set of barefoot prints, should be the girl. I believe the person leading the group also has possession of the little girl.”
“Why do you think that?” Shayla asked.
“Because I seldom see the girls prints and when I do, they’re only partials. The people following are covering her prints.”
“On purpose?” Shayla asked.
“I don’t think so, these people don’t seem to be attempting to hide their trail, at least not at the moment.”
“Maybe later they will?”
“More than likely, especially if they realize they are being followed. Right now, it seems they have chosen speed over stealth, which leads me to think they may be trying to join up with others.”
“What makes you think they are hurrying?” Shayla asked.
“First, human nature, they want to get as far from what they’ve done as they can, second, a lot of heel skid marks where their heels are sliding in the loose dirt as they step, third, see how the toes of all the prints are digging in? The loose dirt thrown back by the toes? They’re pushing off their toes which indicates they are in a hurry.”
Shayla watched the slope ahead as she asked, “Should we speed up?”
“Not unless you want to trot into an ambush.” Debra stood and looked up the slope, “There’s some good spots ahead to shoot and scoot from; if it was me, I think I’d send a couple of buddy teams to handrail the trail slightly ahead of us. One team on each side and watching for signs that someone has left the trail; I’m already watching for that myself.”
“Okay, I’ll get them out there now. I’ll tell them to take a fifty-meter spread, but keep us in sight at all times.” She left and John Trench moved up.
“How’s it going guys?”
I said, “Good, so far, Debra has established eight people plus the little girl.”
He nodded and then fell silent as Shayla returned; she was tucking an earbud from a civilian walky-talky into her ear. “Let’s go silent from here on, hand signals or soft speech if necessary.”
Debra nodded and then jogged forward where she then hesitated while examining the trail and then forward again. Finally, she veered off the established trail we were on and started up a slope. After a few hundred yards, she went to one knee and held her right arm up with a closed fist, then lowered it to her hip as she opened her hand in a palm down gesture. Everyone stopped and took a knee, each person watching their area of responsibility. Debra once again scratched a line, took a measurement and then scratched another line. I moved to one side, kneeled, and watched ahead.
She stood up and motioned everyone forward as she rapidly started moving forward again. I studied where we were going as she watched the ground. She finally stopped again and checked over the boot prints before motioning Shayla forward, when she joined us, Debra pointed up the slope and said, “See that saddle ahead? I’m certain that’s the direction they are headed. Send your two buddy teams up there, but have them go around the two knolls, not over the saddle. There’s no cover on this side and it’s a great place for an ambush. Have them check obvious areas someone might lay-up.”
We continued as Debra kept checking the trail and just before we entered the barren area of the saddle, one of the buddy teams reported finding the lay-up where two people had lain for a period of time and observed their backtrail. They left behind trash from civilian MREs and had defecated and urinated without hiding their waste. We pushed forward over the saddle and into the next valley.
It was approaching late afternoon when we found a spot they had spent part of the day resting. They had performed a ‘J’ hook and bivouacked in a thick grove of small pine trees where they would be hidden and be able to observe their back trail. They were gone, but Debra had found a spot that from the way the pine needles had been disturbed, indicated to her something bad had happened. It was in an area slightly removed from the rest of their camp and we found a few shreds of what appeared to be pajamas and small amounts of blood; she believed the girl had been raped. We pushed on at a heightened rate of speed.
At dusk, we worked our way over another ridge and spread out along the military crest. There was another low valley with what appeared, in the growing darkness, to be a small creek bisecting the bottom. There were also two campfires burning brightly; they were feeling confident they had successfully escaped.
Shayla gathered us together and asked, “We came after the girl, do we wait and try to spirit her out when they’re down for the night? Or go in like gangbusters?” She wasn’t actually asking all of us; she was asking Debra.
“Neither, and both,” she said. “We locate and prepare to take out the sentry or sentries. We close in around them and prepare to attack, on a pre-arranged signal, we hit all of them at the same time with at least one of us designated to protect the girl. I’m the only person here with body armor, so that will be me. When the shooting starts, I’ll either cover her with my body wherever she is, or act as her shield as I extract her.”
I was extremely concerned about Debra going in alone with rounds flying everywhere, “I’ll go with Sargent Tarn and cover her six.”
Shayla chuckled, “Sargent Tarn, huh? Cool your jets big boy, I’m not going to send her on a suicide mission, but she has a point, I like the idea of Debbie protecting the girl.” She looked around and added, “We don’t know enough about what is going on down there, so we’re going to recon it first. We’ll infiltrate down to the…” She hesitated as she examined the fires in the distance. “See the downstream end of the creek, below their fires, see that rock outcropping? That will be our jump off point. We’ll move down to there, get organized and send a team in to check things out and then go in for the girl and kill the gang. That’s where we’ll rally at if this goes sideways. If shit goes bad, I’ll blow a signal on my whistle. If you hear a sequence of three whistle blasts, break contact and head for the outcropping, once we’re there, we head back to the farm.”
We moved downhill as it grew steadily darker and finally reached the creek. It was smaller than it appeared from the crest we had observed it from and only a couple of inches deep. That’s actually pretty good for Southwest New Mexico, which is fairly arid the majority of the year. We were only a hundred yards from where the raiders had camped at and the wind was blowing the wood smoke from their fires our way. We could also hear faint sounds of talking and occasionally laughter. Then we heard a scream of pain that could have only come from the girl.
Shayla cringed and said, “Fuck this shit, form a skirmish line. Trench, I want your team wide to the left, your job is to keep any of these sons-of-bitches from escaping to the south, the rest of us are going in from the East, that way our fire won’t be aimed in the direction of our own people, let’s go.”
We moved out and began to move through the brush and trees as we approached the camp. Debra had removed her boonie hat and was now wearing a close-fitting helmet with an NVD attached, she led the way. After several minutes, we were within mere yards of the camp. There were seven men clustered around two fires and the location of the eighth was easy to determine, he had to be the one whose attention was on the girl we could hear crying a short distance away. Debra whispered to Shayla and then motioned me to follow as she moved towards the sound of the girl.
We found them, the girl and the raider, around fifty feet north from the camp in a small clearing. With no hesitation, Debra drew her knife, walked quickly up behind the man lying on top of the girl, and dropped astraddle of his back. Covering his mouth and nose with her left hand, she jerked his head back violently to the left and slid her knife into the right side of his neck and slashed the blade back out, once, twice, a third time as he struggled and then grew still. Flipping his body off the screaming girl, she placed her hand over the girl’s mouth and whispered, “Shhh, baby, your Grandfather sent me to come bring you home, be quiet now, okay?”
The girl became quiet and nodded, then Debra removed her hand and began to cut through the rope that extended from the girl’s bound wrists to a nearby tree. I moved forward and crouched behind Debra and faced the campfires in case anyone came our way. Debra keyed the mike of her radio, spoke softly into it and moments later, there was a single shot followed be a short roar of gunfire. Then I heard Shayla shout out, “Cease fire! Cease fire!”
I watched as the squad walked into the clearing and started securing weapons and looking through the large packs the men had been carrying. Debra flicked on a light attached to her helmet, adjusted the brightness to dim it and started checking the girl for injuries, “Where do you hurt, Baby?”
The girl was softly crying as she said, “I want my mom.”
“I know, Sweetie, and we’re going to take you home, I promise, but we need to fix you up first, okay?” Debra wiped away the girl’s tears, “Okay? Tell me where you hurt.”
“My private places and my feet, my feet hurt really bad.”
Debra worked her way down her legs and examined her feet, “Jesus,” she softly said. “Daniel, I’m going to need both our IFAKs and probably more.” I opened mine up and handed her the removable insert. Then I walked away far enough to get Shayla’s attention.
She jogged over and asked, “How is she?”
“Not good, but at the moment it looks like her feet are going to be the problem. Debra is using our IFAKs to bandage them, but she thinks we’ll need more.”
“I’ll send Mitch over and he can take over while…” Mitch Reynolds was our medic.
“No, I don’t think the girl is ready to have a guy touching her; let Debra treat her and maybe you, or Rachael can help?”
“That way is it? Fuckers!” She strode away and a few moments later returned with Rachel Getty.
“Daniel, get someone to help and cut some poles for a rain poncho stretcher; we’ll carry her home.”
“On it.” I trotted away and grabbed Trench to help; within twenty minutes we had an impromptu stretcher ready for the girl. I carried it over to the women and sat it next to them, “It’s good to go,” I said. “We put Reynolds on it to test it, it will hold her just fine.”
Debra smiled up at me and then back to the girl, “Charlie? This is Daniel, he’s one of the good guys.” Charlie? “Daniel, this pretty little thing is Charlotte, but she prefers to be called ‘Charlie’.”
I tried to give her a reassuring smile as I said, “Hi, Charlie,” I extended my hand to shake, but she flinched and drew her hands to her chest.
Charlie looked at Debra and asked, “How do you know he’s a good guy?”
Debra placed her hand over Charlie’s and gently squeezed, “I know he’s a good guy because he’s my husband. He’s such a good guy, that I decided I was going to marry him and someday day I hope I have a little girl that’s as brave as he is and you are.”
The little lady looked back and forth between us and finally said, “If you say so, okay. Can we go home now?”
Debra gave Shayla a questioning look and waited until Lincoln said, “The guys are using paracord to string up the packs to keep the animals out of them. We’re taking the weapons and ammo we gathered, plus a few odds and ends. Let’s get her on the stretcher and then over by the fire until time to go.” She looked down at Charlie and said, “Sweetie, we have a long way to walk, so we’re going to need some of the men to help carry you, is that going to be okay?”
“Are they good guys too?”
“Every single one of them; every one of them will fight to protect you from the bad guys, okay?”
Charlie looked around and then asked, “Which guy is the boss, you know, the one in charge of everything?”
Shayla softly chuckled and said, “That’s me, Charlie, I’m the boss soldier of this group; they are my squad.”
“Really? You’re a lady and you are the boss?”
“Yes, I am. Where we come from, women can be bosses too.”
Charlie stared at her for a moment and said, “Okay, the men can carry me too, but no tricks or pranks, okay?”
Shayla laughed and said, “I bet you have an older brother, right?”
“No, but my cousins are all boys and like to play tricks and pranks on me. My uncle says boys will be boys and never makes them stop.”
Debra smiled at her and said, “It’s okay for a boy to be a boy, but it’s not okay for a boy to be a jerk. You should come and go to school where we live, I know a really nice lady that can teach you how to beat the snot out of boys that are jerks.”
“Really? That would be nice!” Even I softly chuckled about that one.
Debra shifted to Charlie’s legs and pointed Rachel to her upper body, “Let’s get her loaded up and headed for home.” Once she was on the stretcher, they carried her to the fire and set her back down.
Shayla checked the packs of the raiders to make sure they were secured in the trees and then called everyone together around the stretcher and Charlie. “It looks like you guys did a good job with the packs; we’re going to head back now and get Charlie home as quick as possible.”
John Trench motioned to the bodies lying around and asked, “What about them? Are we going to bury them?”
Shala shook her head and said, “Maggots gotta eat too, yoke up you Oxen, and let’s get out of here.”
I smiled at Charlie’s expression, but figured someone would explain where the oxen term came from. Four of the guys picked up the stretcher and fell in behind Shayla as she called Debra and I over, “I want you two, to hang back and maybe discourage anyone that might show up looking for these guys. Debra, I’m sure the shooting we did could be heard pretty far off, and you thought these guys might be looking to join up with someone else. Let’s make sure our backtrail is clean, okay?”
“How long do you want us to wait?” I asked.
“Two, to four hours. Your call, Sargent.”
Debra nodded and said, “I want to push a little farther ahead and check things out, see if anyone comes nosing around, then we’ll join up with the rest of you at the farm, if not sooner.”
“Good enough, see you there.” She turned and swept her arm forward and the rest of the squad, with Charlie, disappeared into the night.
“I think we should get these fires put out,” I said.
Debra nodded, and then turned and kissed me hard, “God, I love you so much!”
“Sargent! We’re on duty! This could be considered sexual harassment under cover of authority, you know?”
She poked me in the chest as she said, “Asshole!” and started to turn away, but I reached out and pulled her back to give her a lingering kiss.
When I finished, I said, “Put the fires out now?”
“There’s a fire burning inside of me that can never be extinguished, but, yeah, let’s put out the fires.”
We worked together as we used our entrenchment tools to dig up dirt and scatter over the fires. Once the fires were reduced to tendrils of escaping smoke, we secured our shovels, she pulled her NVD down and led the way into the darkness as I followed. A short walk ahead, we came to a large clearing and she whispered in my ear, “The moon should be above the horizon in about fifteen minutes, we’ll wait here, so you will be able to see too.”
We laid down side-by-side and watched the clearing, well, Debra did, until right on time, the moon broke the horizon; the monochromatic view was startling. Leaning close to her ear, I breathed, “How did you know when the moon was coming up?”
She looked at me and I could see her bright white teeth in the moonlight as she smiled and said, “Farmer’s Almanac.” She glanced around and added, “Let’s move back into the shadows, we’re exposed out here.”
We belly crawled back into the shadow of trees and waited again as I began to struggle to stay awake. Finally, she checked her wrist watch and then nudged my shoulder. Pointing with her thumb back over her shoulder, she slowly stood and began to disappear into the night with me close behind.
Whenever we were in the moonlight, we sped up and jogged at a quick pace. If we both would have had NVDs, we could have caught up with the rest of the squad sooner. As it was, we came up on their rear about a mile from the farm. We joined Shayla and told her our backtrail was clear and she said good. Then she sent us ahead to warn the farm they were coming with Charlie. We jogged ahead and as we exited the tree line, we could see every exterior light was on. There was someone sitting on the back porch and we could see whoever it was, was obviously asleep in their chair.
Debra held me up and then called ahead, “Hello the house!” The person asleep didn’t move the slightest. Debra shouted louder, “Hello the House! Carl Maniker!” A light came on in the house and the door to the backyard swung open, “Carl Maniker! This is Sargent Tarn of the Rangers!”
The man asleep leaped to his feet and aimed his rifle in our general vicinity, but Carl Maniker pushed the man’s rifle down. “Come on into the light so we can see who you are!” More lights came on and a middle-aged woman joined him on the porch. We walked closer with our hands up until they could see us, you could literally see them relax.
The man who had been asleep was the same one who spoke disparagingly of playboy models in the squad and was still an irritating slug, “I guess you two gave it up, right? Or did the cheerleader have a bad night and someone had to walk her home.” He turned to his father and said, “See? I told you we should have taken care of this ourselves. The rest of them are probably walking around in the dark lost; what a waste of time.”
Maniker stared at his son, but then said to Debra, “Any news, Sargent?”
“Yes, Sir, the rest of the squad is coming down as we speak and they…”
“Gave up!” The slug said, “You gave up, didn’t you?”
“Man,” I said. “If you could curtail that wagging muscle you call a tongue, you might find out…”
“Wow, it speaks,” he interjected. “I’m surprised a cockless man that follows a woman can even talk…”
“That’s it!” Debra said as she strode forward. “Your ass is mine!”
“Richard!” Maniker said. “Shut up so we can find out what…”
“Debra…” I started to say.
But Richard the slug said, “My ass is yours? Girl when I’m done putting you in your place, you’ll be wanting a real man, not the little bitch you have with you.” He leaned his rifle against the wall of the house and stepped off the porch to meet Debra.
I was going to try and calm Debra down, but instead, I said, “Have fun, Babe.”
He was a good six-one, maybe six-two, 220 or 40 pounds with a pronounced beer belly. Debra is five-foot-six and maybe 125, or 130 at most, but it’s all muscle and lightening reflexes. Faster than you can say it, she had planted her left food in his left hip joint and used it as a step stool to get her high enough to swing her right leg around his back and over his right shoulder where she hooked her left leg with her right ankle and squeezed until his left shoulder and head were pressed together. Then she added a new one I had never seen her use before, instead of throwing her weight to the side and taking him down in a body throw, she hooked the two middle fingers of her left hand in his nostrils and clamped her hand over his mouth as he struggled to breathe. Within mere moments, he collapsed to his knees and then his side as he blacked out from lack of air. She held him like that for at least ten seconds, and then released his unconscious form. After she stood up and finished brushing herself off, she looked at me and said, “I’m sorry, Honey, I realize you probably wanted to deal with him yourself, but if you killed him it wouldn’t look good from the perspective of us trying to get along with our neighbors. You’re not too mad at me, are you?”
I dropped my head a little to hide my smile, but then addressed Maniker instead, “The rest of our squad is on their way and should be here any moment. We came ahead of them to tell you we have your granddaughter and she should be okay physically after she heals up, but she was used pretty hard. Is her mother here?”
The woman beside Maniker said, “I told my daughter-in-law to wait in the house until we knew what was happening; I’ll get her now.”
Behind me I heard the sound of multiple footsteps and as I turned and looked, Shayla and the rest of the squad entered the light. “Let’s take her to the porch,” I said.
The slug was starting to revive himself, but everyone was ignoring him for the most part. Shayla finally leaned over and asked, “Uh, what’s up with the playboy model dipshit?”
“He got on Debra’s bad side.”
“And I missed it, shit.” She chuckled. “Was it quick?”
“For the most part; she suffocated him until he passed out, oh, look,” I said as he slowly got to his feet. The crotch of his jeans was soaking wet. “I guess no one ever told him to take a piss before starting a fight.”
Shayla shook her head and then said, “Is this going to be a problem?”
“I don’t know why it should, he shot off his mouth, he was insulting and he made threats against a woman, and then a woman handed him his ass.” As we were watching him stumble around, Debra walked up and talked to him for a moment and then walked away. “I wonder what that was about?”
“Do you think Debbie will tell us?” She asked.
“Maybe, maybe not, depends on which she thinks is more fun.”
“Lord, I’ve seen her idea of fun before and I still cringe over it.”
I looked at her and asked, “What do you mean?”
“The time in the gym, right before you and her got back together.”
I guess the blank look was a giveaway.
“She never told you?! Oh, my, god! I would have been bragging about that forever.”
“What happened?” I asked as my curiosity got hold of me.
“Like I said, right before the two of you got back together, I used to sneak into the gym the INSEC guys laid claim to. Anyway, I would sneak in and get a workout and every once in a while, Debbie would be in there early, working out too. We never said much to each other, just sort of hi and bye, you know? So, I’m in there and two of those really big asshats come in and start giving me a hard time. I try to ignore them, but I’m starting to get really nervous because of some of the things they’re saying, really vulgar things that shouldn’t be said to a woman, ever. So, I get off the leg lift machine and start getting my stuff to leave when I start to hear someone skipping roping. I look because I’m afraid it will be another INSEC guy, but it’s Debbie, skipping rope and watching us. The two guys look at her and she smiles, like, hey baby, you know what I mean? The old come-hither look? Well the one guy says to the other one, you can have this one, that one’s mine and starts swaggering over to Debra. As he’s on his way, he’s already telling her what a good time she’s going to give him, and just before he gets to her, she releases one end of the rope, flicks it around like some sort of a bullwhip and WHAP! Right between the eyes in the center of the forehead! The guy drops like a rock and she goes back to skipping rope like nothing happened, nothing at all. I’m staring at her, she’s staring at the second guy, and he says as he starts walking towards her, “I’ve seen your little trick, it’s not going to work on me and I’m going to fuck you up.” I’m thinking, oh shit, but Debbie just smiles as he keeps coming. I looked at her eyes and what I saw chilled me all the way through. He wasn’t going for her, she was hunting him, she was a predator and there was mayhem in her eyes. He gets close enough and she lets go of the rope like she did before and he throws his hand up to block the handle of the rope from hitting his face, but she’s not going for his face, the handle she whips out hits him right in the nut sack and just like the first guy, he drops like a rock and doesn’t move as he tries to breathe. She walks up to him and wraps the rope around his throat and steps on his neck as she pulls up and she starts talking to the over-muscled assbite very calmly. She tells him, she wants to end his pathetic life, but maybe he’s just having a bad day, so she’s going to give him a second chance. She says, she’s playing with him, but next time she won’t be feeling playful. Then she tells him, she’s going to be in the gym a lot, from 4:30 in the morning until 6:00 in the morning and says he and his friend are not going to be there when she is. She slacks up on the rope and the guy finally says, which days will you be here and she says, guess. Then she coils her rope up, smiles and waves goodbye to me and left. I still go every morning from 4:30 to 6:00 and I never saw those guys there again. To tell the truth, I don’t think she even knows in was me in there.”
“I’ll be damned,” I said. I wondered if she was under the influence of the contaminant at the time, if so, both of those guys were lucky, very lucky indeed.
During the retelling of a rope skipping Debra, Charlie’s mom had appeared and there was an emotional homecoming. Maniker approached Shayla and told her he would be in to discuss some sort of payment for our services with Packer. Shortly thereafter, we loaded up and returned to the Facility. Debra and I had passionate sex when we got home and then again when we woke up the next day. I don’t know why, but it was kind of rough and hard, and she seemed to really enjoy it. There’s a lot more to my lady than I can ever imagine, I’m looking forward to any further surprises.
