This is a project that I have been working on for over a year now. I have had a long battle with it. It started out to be destined for here at member stories or another free that hosts a more explicit type of content, as I didn’t really know about the rules at TB2K about that type of material. I originally started typing this just to get a reading of how good I could write. Up until I started this I had written the stories out in a spiral notebook and threw them away when I finished.
But there are two friends that wanted to be written into this one and then, when they heard about publish on demand, pressed me to go that route. Admittedly, I also liked the idea of a book with my name on it. I really didn’t want to pay 4 or 5 hundred for that. As I was finishing up the revision phase, I found lulu.com that publishes absolutely free. That cinched it, I spent an entire weekend arranging covers and uploading files.
This was just one of many weekends that I spent working on this, typing away from a hand written script. I beg to note that I can’t type and have only 9.8 fingers. So it was slow, to say the least.
OK, after I got it all uploaded I ordered my proof, and then checked it when it arrived. Then I posted it on several forums as a book that I had read instead of written, including here. I hated to do it that way, and I apologize for that. But I did it because I did not want anyone buying it just because a member wrote it. Further I felt that the feedback might be biased if the reader knew that a board member wrote it. I hope that ya’all can forgive the indiscretion and understand my reason for doing so.
This book was only on the market for four days. I felt it best to pull it from sales in light of the problem at work. There’s a thread in the corkboard concerning this. Suffice it to say this book and part of its sequel almost cost me my job.
I recently did put it back up for sale as the other problem was taken care of informally. But long story short, I am through trying to sell it. It’s cost me enough already. I have a lot of time and a lot of deep worry, in the end. I wish I had placed it here to begin with. It would have been much easier and truthfully, it would have lessened the seriousness of my difficulty at work, greatly. Seems that ‘for profit’ and just piddling makes a difference.
I have learned my lesson. So from now on if I write something of this nature it will go here. Although, there may not be very much time for me to write more of the story, because during the panic, while I was thinking I’d be without a job, I enrolled at a local college. So now not only do I have a job, but also I am carrying 10 semester hours of course work. I guess I’ll finish up that criminal justice degree or possibly change to something else.
But anyway, that’s the troubles I’ve had with this. As for the story, be FOREWARNED. There is some adult content and nudity. (Streak I’ve had to fight with) I was concerned about this and pm’d Dennis to ask if it would be OK on a level of what you would find in an ordinary bookstore novel. So without quoting the PM I take it that’s its OK on that level. My friend that helped me proof read it, considers the adult content as less than a “Longarm Western”. I have never read one of those so I can’t comment. But I think it more akin to some of Ahern’s work or some of the courser of Johnstones Ashes series. I would rather tell you now than to offend you after you’ve read quite a bit into it.
I hope you enjoy it. ccf: As for the sequel, I got 18,000 words into it before the bomb fell. If I can find the time, or that one supervisor leaves, I’ll finish it up and post it here. Until then could I interest you in some nice Algebra equations?
It was a muggy night for late June in Nashville. In spite of the air conditioning in the house, Jill lay naked on the bed. This was one of Jill’s normal habits. She had slept unclothed since she was a teenager. She just felt more comfortable without the binding clothes. Since being on her, own Jill had expanded the habit into lounging around the house in the same manner. Though always with the curtains drawn and the shades pulled. She still had her modesty, even to the point of appearing prudish. The clothes Jill generally wore outside of the house consisted of very classy dresses and skirts. Delicate blouses topped the skirts, always cut high at the collar. A business lady, Jill wanted her successes based on her talents rather then her body.
For the same reason, Jill made it a policy to never date anyone from the office. For that matter, she rarely dated at all. She chose instead to concentrate on her career, and her own life. Jill prided herself on being an independent person. She carefully monitored her investments, making sure that whatever happened she would always have something to fall back on. Jill had hated having to depend on her parents for money during high school and college. It seemed there had always been a string attached or some commandment of theirs to obey. Of course, she had obeyed her parent’s wishes. But she promised herself that once she got out of college, she would never put herself in a position to be dependent upon another, not even a husband.
Jill felt she had done well for herself, graduating from college a year early with a degree in business management. She landed a job in downtown Nashville at a major corporation, starting at nearly 100,000 dollars a year plus bonuses. Now at age twenty-three, she held a sizable stock portfolio and owned her own home in east Nashville. Jill was a gracious giver also. She being of liberal democratic beliefs donated heavily to the Democratic Party, national handgun control groups and major college funds for black Americans.
Jill believed in her causes, her yard was constantly adorned with signs bearing anti gun slogans, and campaign posters for democratic candidates. She had even been present in downtown Nashville as candidate Al Gore faced his sorrowful supporters, after the voting in 2000. She had wept for her hero along with everyone else in the crowd.
Jill had even purchased her home with the problem of deforestation in mind. The home built mostly of masonry construction a two-story home built several years previous. While her home was designed with a secure safe room. She had not seen a need to bar the windows and doors as nearly every other neighbor on her street had. Jill believed in humanity.
The alarm sounded at the bedside table startling Jill. Groggily, she rose to sit on the bedside, clicking the alarm on the radio off. As she stood up to walk to the bathroom, her long black hair falling across her shoulder, the slight curls caught in the breeze as she walked. Jill was in excellent physical condition at 5’6 and 115 lbs. She was lean, her tummy flat, and her behind shapely, upturned and held just enough fat to allow a slight jiggle when she walked. Jill felt fortunate to have a smaller chest. Her breasts while still firm fit loosely into a B cup. Any larger and she felt they would have been awkward.
In the bathroom, she stepped into the shower. After setting the water temperature she lingered under the spray allowing the water to flow over her body. After shampooing her hair, she rubbed the bar soap over her dark toned skin, reviving her. Before stepping out, she used the razor to run over her legs and then her pubic area. Jill disliked pubic hair on her body. It felt “dirty” to her. She enjoyed the clean fresh look.
Once out of the shower Jill dressed in her blue polyester skirt that came to just below her knee and a white ruffled blouse. Thinking the thin material would feel cooler. Slipping into a pair of blue high heel shoes she stood in front of the mirror to check everything over careful that her bra did not show through. Even as hot as it was outside Jill always wore a bra. Sometimes she chided herself for being to reserved. Before heading out the door, she threw on the usual light make up. Then, on the way out she locked the knob on the door.
Jill owned a late model Nissan Maxima but she rarely drove it to work. Jill preferred to walk down to the corner to catch the bus instead. Another of her beliefs, she did not wish to contribute to the smog problem unless she had to.
Outside, the city was beginning come alive getting ready for the day. The sounds of horns honking, the cars on the interstate behind her house drowning out the chirping of the birds. Jill studied her neighbor’s homes as she walked by her heels clicking on the sidewalk. It was a quiet little neighborhood. Jill could not understand why so many homes had bars over the windows and doors. Some even had decorative fences that served to both beautify and protect.
On the next block, Jill passed the home of her opposite. She had never met the man only saw him getting into or out of the pickup truck parked beside the garage. Jill regarded the man as a “Redneck”, the most unsophisticated sort. She hoped she never had to confront him or even a cause for conversation with him. She knew such an event would likely prove disastrous. The man’s home sported a huge ugly radio tower that often times she found a confederate flag flying from. The yard of the house sported all sorts of pro gun signs and political statements such as “Vote Freedom First“ and “Close the Border.” On the garage door, there hung several targets the type with a silhouette of a human being and each were unmercifully shot full of holes.
Around the home was a protective fence of awful chain link. The neighbors had complained to the zoning board to have the fence removed. However, the board had refused because the man had used the green vinyl coated type of fence. The zoning board felt that the fence was the proper height and the green color would blend with the grass of the lawn, the board could do nothing.
That was before the awful looking barrels appeared. Disguised as planters, the heavy concrete barrels stood in a line, just inside the fence and across the length of the front porch. She knew they were there to stop the bullets and the cars of attackers. Added to this, a pair of German shepherd dogs patrolling inside the fence, Jill had concluded the man was suffering from paranoid delusions.
Jill made the bus stop on time, then all the exchanges, on the way downtown. While riding the bus, Jill made a habit of studying the faces of the other passengers. In the two years of riding the buses, she had had a few incidents occur. Usually minor things once or twice men have grabbed a ’feel’, once a wino had tried to kiss her. However, once, after a hard day, she had accidentally fallen asleep. She awoke to feel a gruff hand massaging her labia, through the material of her hose and panties. The man had bravely reached beneath her skirt. She had slapped him so hard it left a fiery red handprint on his cheek. The force she had used surprised her, she never thought she could be prone to violence. It puzzled her. She finally chalked up the slap to a primal reaction.
However, this morning’s ride proved uneventful. Jill sat looking out the windows, her mind reviewing the latest news events. The Supreme Court had heard a case that involved the Second Amendment, another question of the interpretation. This was a case to determine if “the people” intended a collective or an individual right. The final decision was to be announced at any time, as the justices had taken the matter under advisement some week’s back.
Today the justices were hearing the final arguments on the slave reparation case. Blacks were demanding the federal and state governments, those that had the keeping of slaves, pay a regular amount to the descendants of the slaves, for compensation of the labor and suffering of their ancestors.
Jill knew both of these cases were emotionally charged cases. Many people were worried about the outcome and the reaction of the people. There had been calls by the Blacks and the Gun owners alike, for violence should the verdicts not go well for them. “Today.” Jill thought, “Might prove interesting, maybe I should have driven.”
Once at the office, Jill’s cares seemed to fade away as she allowed herself to melt into the tasks of the day. She soon forgot about the turmoil of the day. Jill seemed happiest when she were shuffling papers and crunching numbers. Her mind even drifted into making plans for the weekend.
Suddenly, Jill realized she was hungry. Checking her watch she realized why, she had worked through lunch. She picked up her purse, and made her way to the ground floor. A neat little cafeteria there served some great sandwiches.
Deciding to have a ham and cheese hoagie, a bag of chips and a coke, Jill took her meal to a booth. After sitting down, Jill looked up to see the TV tuned to a headline news channel. On the screen the Supreme Court building showed in the background, the reporter spoke rapidly, almost urgently.
Jill listened as the harried reporter tried to speak over the chanting and noise of the protesters. Apparently, the justices had ruled on the slavery issue immediately, and then released its decision on the Second Amendment case. Jill listened intently as the reporter gave a synopsis of the rulings and the reaction of the people around him.
As she listened, Jill became aware of someone speaking to her, distracting her from the TV report. Turning she saw Bob Jenkins standing by her table. She knew Bob from another agency in the building. He was a heavy, muscular man of 50 with very gray hair. A traditional businessman, he wore gray dress pants and a gray tweed jacket. “Hi Bob. Have a seat I was just watching the verdicts.” Jill said smiling.
Bob only nodded as he sank into the booth opposite Jill. Right away Jill noticed a look of grave concern on his face and asked, “What’s wrong Bob?”
Bob shook his head nervously as he unwrapped his sandwich. Jill gave him his time. Finally, Bob seemed to get disgusted, his hands flinching upwards away from the sandwich “These damn verdicts will break up the country Jill. This country is at a turning point in history.” Bob replied.
Jill smiled and said cheerily, “It can’t be that bad, Bob sure they’ll both stomp and whine for awhile but they will soon see it’s no use and accept the verdicts.”
Bob looked at her as if she was a naive child. She hated that look. He said, “No they won’t Jill there’s going to be hell to pay, you watch and see. The blacks already had that money counted and spent in their heads.” Bob paused to look at the screen a moment then looked Jill in the eyes and said “And us gun owners, we will not give up our guns.”
Jill seemed shocked “Bob? You have a gun?” Jill asked incredulously.
Bob nodded his head and took a bite of his sandwich letting that sink into Jill’s mind. Then he continued, “Jill I fought in Vietnam to protect the freedom of the constitution and the bill of rights. I killed all those communists that stood in the way of my freedom. Well guess what Jill; all those communists had guns. Now I will not be able to have guns! Does that make sense to you?”
Jill now wore a look of utter disbelief. “Bob its just guns. It is not worth a revolution for. Good grief Bob they kill people, they’re dangerous!” Jill exclaimed.
Bob stared at her face his eyes piercing. “It’s not just guns it’s a principle Jill. That our founding fathers and every person that ever fought for this country has fought to protect. Furthermore, no gun has ever killed anyone. The guns were used by someone to kill someone.” Bob stated flatly.
Jill did not reply they finished their lunches quietly and watched the TV. When they had finished, Bob stood up to leave then turned to Jill and said, “Look, things could get bad. Be careful. If you need me, you know where to find me. And if I hear anything I’ll let you know.”
Jill felt his statement seemed over dramatic but said, “Sure Bob thanks.”
Bob nodded in reply as he turned to walk away.
Jill sat at the table awhile longer, thinking. On the one hand, she felt a victory against guns. On the other, in the pit of her stomach she felt coldness, a fear of what might happen. “ I didn’t think it meant that much to them,” she thought. “It had all seemed like a harmless game, send in money, get pamphlets and a letter proclaiming ‘your’ victory.”
Shaking off the thoughts Jill got up to leave, as she turned away she heard leaders of the blacks calling for riots and retribution. “Show whitey how it feels!” the speaker, exclaimed.
Jill turned finding several black faces in the crowd of the lunchroom. Jill saw their faces contained fear, extreme anger, and denial. “Even here?” she asked herself. Jill quickly dumped her tray and walked to the elevator. An uneasy nervousness fell over Jill on the ride up. Fear crept into her. She mentally slammed the door on it. Next, she felt the guilt, “You were part of the cause,” she thought. Somehow, the guilt lingered.
Once back at her desk, Jill was able to immerse herself into her work again. The fear forgotten, the nervousness ceased. She felt secure in her work, but the guilt remained. Her mind tried to deny the guilt, to pass it off, but still it remained.
The door to her office burst open startling her. Bob was suddenly in the office with her, he was sweating, and looked wild and scared. Jill became alarmed. Bob said, “Haven’t you heard?”
Wide-eyed Jill could only shake her head “No”.
Bob caught his breath and gasped, “They shot him!”
Jill waited for Bob to continue, when he did not, she asked, “ Shot who?”
Bob looked astonished then replied “That guy Al Muhammad, the black leader, the one that was going to run for president!”
“Who shot him?” Jill asked, disbelieving.
Bob replied, “ They don’t know for sure, he was speaking in Atlanta. He was at the podium, shots were fired, nobody knows from where. But the pro-gun whites were rallying nearby.” Bob paused to catch his breath.
Jill seemed angry at the pause, anxious for more information.
Bob continued “The Black militant group, the ones that always protest with the assault weapons opened fire on the white pro-gun rally. It is mayhem there. The police, the blacks and the pro-gunners are all firing at each other. ” Bob had to catch a breath then exclaimed “My God Jill, it looks like Beirut, Dublin or Saigon.”
Jill sat down hard in her chair her eyes stared straight ahead unblinking. Bob snapped her out of it by saying, “Jill! I think we better leave now before it breaks loose here.”
Jill just stared at Bob, shaking her head then said, “ Bob are you sure it will happen here? I mean Atlanta is three hundred miles away.”
Bob excitedly said, ”Jill, there are bodies in the streets there it will only spread.”
Jill sat quietly in thought, finally she looked at her watch 4:30 PM, “Past quitting time anyway,” she thought. She sighed and said, “Well I guess it couldn’t hurt to be safe.”
Bob seemed relieved, smiled and asked, “Where are you parked?”
Jill seemed shocked for a second then replied, ”I took the bus to work.”
Bob seemed agitated and said, “Damn, me too. Look, we both live on the East Side, we had better stay together. We‘ve got the projects between here and home.” He paused waiting for Jill to respond then suddenly said, “Hey, we better get moving are you ready?”
Jill nodded her head “yes”. Then got her purse from the desk drawer on the way out.
On the street they decided to hail a cab for a direct route to save time. After a dozen cabs passed them carrying passengers. Bob muttered to Jill, ”Everyone is getting out of downtown.”
A city bus passed them it appeared to be loaded to standing room only. Bob sighed and said, “We’ll be lucky to get out of here now. Let’s start walking.”
Jill agreed, But secretly she thought, “ I won’t get far in these heels.”
They made their way through near panic crowds, as they worked their way down the hill toward the river. There was heaviness in the air, the crowds were moving about with a determination, everyone hurrying to get to their homes.
Then Bob spotted two people stepping out of a Music city cab 50 feet away. “Let’s get it before anyone else does.” He exclaimed.
They ran toward the cab like it was home base, Bob knocked one person down on the way, The man jumped to his feet screaming obscenities. Bob grabbed the door handle and yanked it open just ahead of another businessman. Bob shouted, “I got this one buddy!”
Jill came from behind running in her heels. Bob held the door for her as she slid into the seat quickly. Then Bob jumped in and slammed the door. Bob, out of breath gasped gruffly to the driver, “East Side, let’s go!”
The driver turned in his seat to face bob and stated flatly, “Can’t do it buddy, haven’t you heard the news? All hell broke loose across the river.” For the first time, Bob and Jill looked at the horizon, instead of the crowds. Through the drivers windshield they could see plumes of smoke rising above the buildings across the river.
Jill’s mouth fell open in surprise. Bob’s eyes and head darted back and forth thinking at hyper-speed. Finally Bob asked, “Can’t we get through? I’ll give you a hundred dollar bonus.”
The driver chuckled and said, “I wouldn’t live to spend it if I did try it. The Blacks across the river will kill any white they find. Besides the cop‘s have the bridge blocked to protect the capitol. The only way is south or west. ”
Bob smacked the seat disgusted. He exclaimed, “Damn!”
The cab driver suggested, “I could take you as far as Harding Place, you could rent a car. But that’s as far as I go. I need to get back to get the people out. ”
Bob glanced at Jill, who sat quietly observing. Jill said, “It’s up to you Bob.”
Bob seemed to get a determined look and said, ”Just take us to the bridge we’ll get across on foot, It can’t be that bad.”
The driver cocked his head to the side and said, “Your funeral.” Putting the car into gear he pulled away from the curb.
The traffic was so bad, it took 35 minutes to make the eight blocks. At the bridge the driver said, “No charge I just want to get gone from here.”
Bob and Jill stepped out looking at the police barricade. Jill guessed that there were 50 or more officers stationed there with rifles and shotguns. Looking across the bridge they could see a mob of blacks, she guessed there must have been thousands. The mob carried signs, with anti-racism slogans. Some were shouting angrily, some seemed to be discussing something, occasionally glancing nervously at the officers on this side of the bridge. The situation seemed very tense.
Bob said, “Lets go talk to the officer in charge, see if we can get across.”
He began walking that way without waiting for a reply from Jill. Suddenly Jill grabbed Bob’s arm yanking him to a stop. “Look!” Jill exclaimed and pointed across the bridge.
Suddenly the officers took cover aiming the weapons across the bridge. Bob looked across, saw that the mob had formed up and had begun to cross the bridge. The police supervisor screamed at Bob and Jill, “Get out of here! Take cover!”
Bob stunned that this was happening, stood frozen. Jill looked around, they were suddenly alone, no cars, no people. Thinking quickly she grabbed Bob’s arm and said, “Quick, the bushes by the bridge!”
Jill and Bob ran through the grass to the bushes that bordered the embankment that dropped down to the river. At the edge of the bushes they had to scramble on their hands and knees to move into the thickly grown underbrush. Hidden in the scrub oaks, they watched the bridge.
The marchers in the lead walked with grim determination, anger could be seen on their faces. The police maintained position. The police supervisor that had told Bob and Jill to take cover picked up a bullhorn. Putting the bullhorn to his mouth he screamed across the bridge, “Do not approach the barricades, return to the East Side.” His voice seemed to boom above the noise and confusion of downtown.
The marchers kept walking, the lead being followed by throngs of others. On the other side the mob still formed lines squeezing onto the bridge, it seemed almost as fluid draining, the bridge as the drain pipe. As the marchers approached the halfway point, the police supervisor hoisted the bullhorn, to his mouth again, “I’m warning you, do not approach the barricades. We have clearance from the governor to fire. Turn back now!”
Jill realized it was a desperate attempt to defuse the situation. “Would they actually fire?” she wondered. She began to survey her surroundings to find something to get behind in case the bullets did start flying. She saw a large chunk of long square concrete left over from building the bridge. She decided that was where she would go. From there she formulated an escape route down to the river.
Bob sat transfixed staring at the bridge, glancing from the police to the marchers and back. At the three-quarter mark Jill heard the police weapons being worked, loading live ammo. The sound of the bolts and slides slamming metal to metal carried to her. Suddenly the lead marchers dropped to the pavement on hands and knees, crossways on the bridge. The second line dropped to one knee, and produced guns that they aimed across the backs of the lead marchers, forming an instant human barricade.
Neither Bob nor Jill knew which side fired first. There was a sudden eruption of gunfire from both sides. Jill grabbed Bob by the arm again, jerking him toward her, “Follow me!” she yelled. Jill began to crawl quickly on hands and knees to the concrete, kicking away her high heel shoes as she moved. Bob came along close behind her.
Jill scrambled behind the chunk of concrete on her hands and knees. Bob came in beside her. The gunfire never stopped its constant rattle, only slowing some after it started while the empty guns were reloaded. Jill peeked above the concrete just as a stray bullet snapped through the tops of the bushes above her. All she could see was the heads of the police and the marchers above the bridge railing. A heavy cloud of gun smoke hovered above the shooters. The firing from the marchers seemed to stay steady, while the police fire seemed to steadily slow. Jill could now smell the biting gun smoke in her nose. She began to hear shouts from the police barricade. A desperate request repeated over and over, “Ammo?” Soon the supervisor screamed, “fall back!” At that Jill saw the blue uniforms scurrying for their cars, heard doors slamming and engines being revved. Fear struck her as she realized they were being left unprotected.
From the bridge, there came victorious screams and shouts of glee. Jill watched as throngs of black faces began running across the bridge. She knew the area would soon be filled by a riotous mob. She again grabbed Bob and whispered, “This way!”
Jill led Bob down a small trail toward the riverbank. She scrambled over the ground trying to avoid the cans, bottles and broken glass that littered the overgrowth. Halfway down she turned to the right, moving along the embankment toward the bridge. Being very quiet moving carefully trying not to disturb the trees, shaking the leaves would attract the attention of the marchers.
Once under the bridge Bob patted her back pointing up to where the bridge met the ground, “Up here” he said.
They climbed up the embankment over large rocks and debris, Jill being very careful where she placed her feet as she was barefooted. Once at the top where the steel bridge girders were anchored, they found a homeless persons cobbled shack.
The shack rested between two of the girders, on the concrete ledge that supported the end of the girders. Plywood wedged into the girders and covered with rags formed the front wall. An opening at one side covered by a heavy fabric curtain served as the door. Jill said, “ I wonder if anyone’s in there.”
Bob said, “We’ll soon find out. That would be a great place to hide out until things calm down and we can get across the river.”
As they approached the door, Bob reached around under his coat drawing a short-barreled revolver, pointing it toward the door as they moved closer. Jill was stunned to see the revolver appear in Bob’s hand. She had never pictured Bob, as one who would carry a gun. Still she followed close behind him. The footsteps of thousands of marchers could be heard on the concrete above them.
At the door Bob reached cautiously for the fabric door with his left hand, the revolver gripped snuggly in his right hand. He quickly grabbed the curtain, yanking it aside, looking into the shack over the barrel of the gun. “Empty!” He declared. Then told Jill, “Come on let’s get inside.”
Bob held the curtain while Jill crawled inside. Then he scrambled in on his hands and knees. Jill looked around in what little light came from the door. The bare steel girders formed the end walls, and the concrete abutment formed the back wall. The concrete floor was entirely covered with rags and trash, Four feet above, the underside of the bridge served as the ceiling. There seemed to be plenty of room for the two of them to move about. But the air inside was dank and smelled of stale sweat and urine. Jill decided it would do until they could leave.
Jill sat with her back against the concrete wall at the rear of the shack. Bob explored around the shack finding a candle, which he lit with his Zippo. The light almost made the shack feel homey and cozy. After lighting the candle, Bob sat to her right his back against the bridge girder. They occupied the back corner of the shack away from the door.
Now in the light, Jill was able to see and assess the damage to her clothing. Her hose had worn through at the feet, the fabric drawing up to stop at mid-calf. She raised her hips, shedding the ruined panty hose tossing them to the side, with a sigh. Her skirt had been torn in several places, the largest a slit up the side, and her bare thigh and part of her panties were now visible. “Nothing I can do about It.” she thought.
Then she became aware that her bra no longer felt snug, She tried refastening the snaps through the fabric of the blouse. Finally she realized the snaps had been pulled from the fabric. With a sigh she unbuttoned the two remaining buttons on her blouse, Reaching in she worked the bra off her shoulders inside her shirt. Pulling the bra free she tossed it across the shack. Then re-buttoning the two remaining bottom buttons. Looking down the blouse, she realized her chest was visible, from her neck down between her breasts almost to her abdomen. “**** it!” she exclaimed. Disgusted, Jill lay her head back against the wall.
After a few minutes Bob began to chuckle quietly. Jill asked, “What have you got to laugh about?”
Bob, still chuckling pointed his finger toward her right breast. She looked down her blouse to see a triangular rip four inches across, directly over her right breast. Her nipple stiff and pert was well visible, along with most of her smooth breast. Jill angrily crossed her arms over her chest, saying a few choice curse words. Laying her head back again she tried to ignore Bob’s chuckling.
They sat that way not talking for over an hour. The footsteps above them had stopped, they began to wonder what was happening outside and above them on the bridge. Jill raised her head quickly, cocking it to one side listening. Bob whispered, “What?”
Before she could answer, the sound of a drink can being crunched under a foot broke the silence. The little revolver appeared in Bob’s hand again. He put his finger to his lips to say, “Be quiet” to Jill. Bob crept toward the door near the girder at the far side of the shack. He sat back on his haunches, with the revolver aimed at the door. They heard more footsteps outside, and then suddenly the curtain was jerked back to reveal a large black man with a large black bladed knife.
Jill screamed loudly, Bob’s revolver boomed twice in quick succession. The booms reverberating inside the shack. The man outside was flung backwards by the shots, the man grabbing his chest as he fell. The curtain falling closed.
Jill was so terrified she was trembling. She had even wet her panties. Her head ached from the loud shots and the blood pounding in her temple. Bob held his hand out palm toward her, “Stay here!” he whispered. Then he crept toward the curtain. Reaching forward with his left hand he moved the curtain to the side, just a crack to peer out. He saw the man lying on his back, in front of the door. Even though it was nearly dark outside, he was sure there had been no one else. He turned to Jill whispering, “He’s dead, stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Jill seemed to want to leap toward him rising up, her back off the wall. She whispered urgently, ”Don’t leave me here.”
Bob calmed her by whispering, “I won’t. I promise I’ll be back.” Then taking a last good look at the nipple and smooth young breast sticking through the tear, he crawled through the curtain the gun leading the way.
To Jill, it seemed like Bob had been gone forever. She sat back against the wall, her feet pulled back against her, and her elbows on her knees, her ripped blouse now forgotten. When she heard a large splash in the river water below, she almost ran out to look. It took all she had to resist doing so.
When she heard footsteps outside the door again her heart began pounding in her chest, the trembling fear returned to her. She had to fight to keep from screaming or crying. When she heard Bob’s voice outside whisper, “It’s me” she relaxed.
The curtain opened and Bob crawled back inside. So relieved to see him, Jill began to cry. Bob crawled to her carrying something in his hand. He took her into his arms hugging her tightly; he rocked her back and forth until she had stopped crying. Jill could feel the object he held in his hand near her face. She struggled a little in his arms until he loosened his grip a little. Jill asked, “What’s that?”
Bob used both hands to pull the knife from its sheath. His right arm still around her, her head rested against his chest like a child. She saw the long black blade appear in front of her face. Bob explained, “That’s what he was going to use on us. It’s a K-Bar, a military fighting knife. I used one in ’nam.”
Jill could see the edge was razor sharp, a fearsome looking knife. Bob slid it back into the sheath. Using his left hand he laid it on the floor. Then looking back at her he explained, “I took it from him and threw him into the river, in case anyone else comes around the body won’t warn anyone that we are here.”
As he said that, Jill became aware that his right hand had found the rip in her blouse, and was now inside her blouse tightly cupping her breast. She looked up into his eyes questioningly; his lips were suddenly upon hers. Even though she had to wonder why, she opened her mouth to his tongue. It was so sudden she didn’t know what else to do, she let him do as he pleased.
Soon she felt Bob’s arms moving her away from the wall, toward the middle of the floor. “Surely he isn’t going to do this to me here, now?” Jill thought.
Bob laid her on her back on the floor his head hovering over hers. Again he lowered his lips to hers. She lay still as she felt his hands pulling up the hem of her battered skirt. “What am I going to do?” she thought. “He’s going to **** me, if I don’t do something.” Still she didn’t move. She felt his hand slipping under the waistband of her panties, sliding across the bareness of her tummy, and labia, still she did not move.
The hand retreated. The thumb hooking the waistband then began to pull down on her panties. Unconsciously, she raised her hips. The panties sprung free down her legs.
The hand gone now, her panties at her knees, his hand slipped into the open part of her blouse where the buttons were missing, began to cup and squeeze her left breast. Jill felt her vagina moistening, a tingling in her stomach, her hips involuntarily thrust upward as if searching for a penis.
Bob’s lips left her mouth, he raised to the side. She could hear the belt being unbuckled, the snaps of the pants popping the zipper ripping open. Then their came the rustle of fabric, she couldn’t look over to him, she was embarrassed. She thought, “He’s twice my age, Why?”
Then she understood, fear. Fear that if she didn’t allow it, that he would abandon her, leaving her in this dangerous situation. Even though he hadn’t said so she still feared he would leave her. He was her protector. She needed him. She would do this to keep him.
When she felt him remove her panties completely, she obediently parted her thighs for him.
Panic began to spread across the Nashville area. Workers were beginning to walk out on their jobs. Parents flooded the schools picking up their children. Traffic in the suburbs quickly became snarled as vehicles flooded the main thoroughfares as harried people rushed to get from place to place before the riots spread into their neighborhoods.
In hermitage, Hank Simmons stepped out onto the front stoop of his house. Hank wore
Camouflage BDU"s and a camouflage boonie hat. In his hands, he carried an AK-47. A 30 round magazine hung from the bottom of the rifle. He scanned up and down the street before turning to lock the door of the house.
As Hank walked across the porch to the driveway, Art Dillard his neighbor from the house on the other side of the driveway came out of his house. Art smiled and waved toward Hank before he asked, "Say Hank! What’s with the gun?"
Hank called out to Art, "We're leaving, getting out while we can." As he spoke Hank pulled a remote control box from a pocket and aimed it at the garage door.
While they waited for the door to rise, Art said, "Aw Hank you ain’t worried about all that stuff downtown are ya? They'll call in the National Guard and it'll all be over with before ya know it."
Hank watched as his wife backed the loaded Land rover out of the garage before he replied, "It won't Art, it's too big this time. Things have gone too far. It’s not just Nashville either Art, its nation wide."
Art chuckled at Hank and then said, "I'm not worried, the government will take care of things, you’ll see. I’m gonna stay right here, this is my home." Then as an after thought added, "Say hank, where are you gonna go anyway?"
Hank opened the passenger door of the rover but before sitting down he replied. "We knew this was coming, we prepared for it, we’ve got a few acres in the boonies." Sitting down, Hank glanced over his shoulder into the backseat to be sure that the children were buckled in before he slammed the door and locked it. He positioned the AK standing muzzle between his knees, before the land rover began to move.
As they backed out of the driveway, Art chuckled, waved, and promised to keep an eye on Hanks house while Hank was away.
Hank, his wife and two children made it to their cabin in the country that they had prepared for this occasion. They followed maps with routes marked that had been thoroughly researched and plotted. At the cabin, Hank’s family had stored food, ammunition, weapons and virtually anything that would be needed. They survived the collapse unharmed.
Art and his family weathered the first days of the collapse waiting on the government to intervene. That never happened. One week after the collapse Art's sixteen-year-old daughter, after arguing with her parents that the family should leave the suburbs, left with a boy she knew from school. The two of them headed for the deep woods of a wildlife area. The boy armed with a semi automatic twenty-two rifle defended them and also fed them with the rifle. They also survived.
Two weeks after the collapse, Art was killed by a group of his neighbors who had spotted him leaving a looted out grocery store with a bag of dried beans that he had luckily found where they had been kicked under a shelve. Art still unaccustomed to the ways of the post collapse society had not even bothered to secret his treasure under his coat. Two of his neighbors watched as he approached and called him over. Art naively walked over to them, where they immediately grabbed the bag of beans. Art fought to keep his treasure. The two neighbor men pummeled him to death with their fists.
Arts wife and son remained at the house for another week. They never learned of what happened to Art. Late one night the door to their house being kicked in startled them. A roving gang took both the mother and son. The son was sold to a coffee farmer in Brazil as a slave for labor. The mother was later killed as she was to old to work or employ in prostitution.
In South Nashville, a 19-year-old college co-ed dumped the contents of the backpack she normally carried her books in. Quickly she began refilling it with a change of clothes and any food she had stored in her dorm room. She worked hurriedly as other students scrambled up and down the hallway outside her door. The panic had arrived at the college. Black students and some white students were already clashing on the grounds around the old historic buildings on campus.
Jeanna zipped up the pack and worked her arms into the shoulder straps, freeing her long spiral permed light brown hair as the pack settled into place. She checked her lean body to be sure she was ready. She wore a red fleece jersey jacket over her thin blouse. Below that she wore form fitting blue jeans and hiking boots. Everything seemed to be in order.
Jeanna stepped out into the madness of the rushing hallway, almost being knocked down before she could begin to move. "I hope I haven't waited too late." she thought as she ran for the stairs. Jeanna was fourteen floors up, but she knew better than to trust the elevators. Besides she was in terrific physical condition, the stairs would be no problem. She sprinted down them measuring safety against speed. At the ground floor she went out the fire exit door onto the grounds at the side of the building.
Taking the sidewalks to the main streets, Jeanna made her way south to escape the city. She had been raised in the country, by parents that held factory jobs. Which meant she had to work her way through college and depend on grants. That also meant she had no car as her money had to be spent on tuition and food. She would have to hike out of the city now.
The streets were crowded with cars and the sidewalks were packed with panicked people. Fights were breaking out here and there for no apparent reason. She endured the stares of several unkempt looking men. Several times men followed her for a block or two. There were evens shouts of "Hey baby come here" or "need a ride honey?" Jeanna acted as though she had not heard them, but inside she was embroiled in fear. Many times she wished she had the Ruger 10/22 rifle that her father had given her for her tenth birthday. But she had been forced by the university policy to leave it hanging on the wall in her room at home two hundred miles away.
After she'd traveled about five miles the crowds had thinned down to nearly nothing. Then suddenly a four-wheel drive Chevrolet truck jumped the curb onto the sidewalk in front of her. Stunned she jumped back against the wall of a building. She glanced around her for anyone that could help her. Suddenly there was no one on the street. She had been so focused on walking as quickly as possible she had not noticed that the streets were suddenly vacant.
A large man with long stringy black hair, wearing dirty worn out jeans and a stained gray tee shirt, jumped from the open door on the pick-up before Jeanna had time to react he had her pinned to the wall. "Where you going sugar?" the man drawled in an obviously uneducated manner.
Jeanna shouted, "Leave me alone!" and attempted to break free of the mans grip.
He held her tighter and said, "You ain't going no where sweetie, I'm a gonna have me some of you right here and now!" with that he grabbed her by her red jacket and jerked her down the sidewalk toward the open door to an auto body shop. Jeanna became conscious of the revolver tucked into the front of the man’s waistband, and the fact that she was about to be raped.
The man pulled her across the garage floor to a place behind a wrecked car. There he slammed her face against the door of the car pinning her there with his body weight. As she struggled, he removed her backpack and tossed it to the floor. Next he yanked the red jacket down off her arms and tossed it away. Her blouse and bra he simply ripped away.
By now Jeanna had stopped struggling, frozen in shock she simply watched as the man turned her around to face him. His hands worked at the snaps of her jeans and then yanked panties and all to her knees. The man hands seized her and took her to the cold concrete floor on her back. As he pulled the jeans and panties off her feet Jeanna screamed at her brain, "Wake up, do something! Fight!"
By now the man had lowered his own trousers and was getting to his knees between the helpless girls legs. Jeanna’s right hand, under the wrecked car, bumped into a cold metallic tool. She grasped it and guessed at its dimensions, long, very heavy, possibly a wrench. Just as he were getting into position, she suddenly brought the tool out, with all her might she swept it across the mans head, screaming as it struck him in the temple. A long line of blood appeared from a gash on his cheek as he toppled to the floor stunned but conscious. Jeanna scrambled to her feet and grasped the tool with both hands, screaming with the force, she brought it down on the back of the mans skull. The man collapsed and was still.
Thinking quickly Jeanna dressed again as fast as she could in the jeans and red jacket. The blouse and bra in shreds she left them. Grabbing up her backpack she saw the mans revolver lying on the trunk of the wrecked car, she grabbed that up also, sliding it into place in her waistband at the small of her back.
She took a last look at the unconscious man, naked and bleeding on the floor, before turning to leave. She refused to believe she’d killed him and fought the urge bred into most people of decency to help the fallen man. "It’s a different scheme to things now" she told herself. "If you help him he'll only attempt to rape you again." she reminded herself as she walked out of the building onto the sidewalk.
On the street she found the man’s truck still on the sidewalk, idling just as he had left it. There was still no one else in sight on the street. The door was open on the truck and she could see the pump riot gun on the seat, the muzzle pointed toward the floor. Next to the stock of the shotgun lay what Jeanna recognized from the news as a Tech-9, 9mm machine pistol. It had a magazine in place and three spares lying next to it. In the rack was some kind of a rifle. Jeanna sighed and whispered to herself, "An idiot redneck can roam the streets armed to the teeth but a frail college girl has to go unarmed. It isn't fair!" Jeanna pursed her lips together determinedly as she made the decision. She climbed up into the four by four and slammed the door. She backed onto the street and geared the old manual transmission into first, gunning the four-barreled carburetor, dual exhaust engine, she sped away.
Pointing the truck south bound she checked the status of the gauges. The gas hand read full, that relieved Jeanna. Then she scanned the truck bed through the rearview mirror. She grinned brightly as she took count of all the food, water and jugs of gasoline the man had looted and stolen. That food would be hers now, if she could keep it. Jeanna's hand clutched the Tech-9, bringing it closer to her. She checked the chamber and the magazine for rounds, beaming with satisfaction when she found the weapon fully loaded and ready. She tucked the weapon close to her thigh, she felt safe, comfortable.
Jeanna made it to the safety of the family home, only after several high speed chases by men on the highways. Shots had been exchanged and by the time Jeanna had made it home, she had killed at least three more men.
Gracie Altamont sat at her desk on the eighth floor of a downtown office building and continued to work at entering data into a computer terminal. She was the secretary of a regional manager at the insurance company where she worked. She had started in the secretarial pool fresh from business school. But she had worked hard and was noticed by a young junior executive at the time. When his secretary had suddenly quit, ran off with a boyfriend, the executive had offered her the position. That was seven years ago. The executive and Gracie worked well together as a team and he’d kept her with him as he climbed the corporate ladder. Always with each new promotion he received he’d asked that Gracie be moved with him and also to receive a step up in pay. Today she was earning a salary comparable to a junior executive. Truly John had been good to her, his being white and she black never seemed to make a difference.
Gracie worked as the panic in the building increased in tempo to match that on the streets below. She had watched all the news reports and so she knew what was happening and why. Her mind had been made up long ago that she had no reason to expect anything from the white man, only respect. And so far she had received that. Her daddy had taught her as a child that respect begets respect and honor was something to be earned, then once attained, cherished and nurtured.
Those that were running amuck in the street, Gracie believed were the something for nothing crowd. The growing faction within her race that demanded not just to be equal, but to be above whites, to force whites to pay for the suffering of their ancestors. Those types always dressed flamboyantly, standing out in their gold chains and baggie clothes. Gracie cringed every time she saw someone wearing their pants below the buttocks. It wasn't decent, in her opinion.
Of the people in the disturbance below Gracie identified most with the whites. Those people she knew were fighting to keep a constitutional right that was in the process of being removed, not just from the whites themselves, but from all Americans.
Gracie kept working until she noticed the building had become eerily quiet. She paused to listen at the noiseless building. The silence unnerved her. "Everyone must have left,” she concluded. "But surely it has not gotten that bad, surely the authorities had not let it get too far out of hand."
Walking to the window to peer out, she was suddenly shocked at what she saw. In the gloom of evening light she saw fires burning everywhere she looked, cars, buildings, even trash piled in the street. She even witnessed several gunfights in progress. At once she knew she had made a mistake by staying in the building. She sighed and whispered to her self, "Well now I’ll have to wait it out."
She walked around the room to try to think of anything she needed to do, finally she gathered her purse and coat close by and went back to work. "Just work until I get tired and sleep on the couch. Everything will be OK tomorrow." she decided.
Gracie worked until almost 10 PM before she decided to lie on the couch to try to sleep. She had nearly fallen asleep when the ding of the elevator arriving at the floor sounded out loudly in the silence. Gracie came wide-awake as fear griped her.
From the hallway outside her office she heard two males voices. "Hey Jim, over here!" then footsteps on the soft carpet shuffling, coming closer in the quiet. Gracie moved as quickly and quietly as she could across the office to John's desk. There she tucked her slim figure into the recesses of the leg area sitting up, her back against the back of the desk front. She folded her legs in front of her and listened for any sound of the men. Sweat broke out on her forehead as she breathed rapidly from fear.
"In her Sam, this looks like a good place!" she heard one say. Then as the footsteps came closer, she realized they were in the room with her. She heard the men walk to the window but she could not see them as they were just around the corner from the desk.
"Oh yeah Jim, This'll be great!" she heard another voice proclaim.
The next sound she heard was the sound of glass breaking as one of the men used a chair to smash the glass from the window. The window formed the outside wall of the office, going from floor to ceiling. When he’d finished clearing all the glass from the pane he allowed the chair to tumble to the street below. Afterward there were more shuffling sounds as the men worked themselves into position on the floor. "Yeah ain't this great Sam, I tol'ya this'd be fun. Look at all of'em down there!"
Gracie realized now these men were a third faction to the melee below. That these men were not here to protest they were here simply to kill black people. She recognized the speech patterns as that of uneducated white men. Suddenly Gracies’ heart skipped a beat as she heard the slinking sound of a rifle bolt and the suppressed giggles of the men.
Suddenly there came a jarring 'Whoom!' as the rifle fired. The men’s giggles suddenly turned to howls of laughter. "Did you see that Sam I knocked him on his ass! That scope sure does bring em right up to ya." Then there was more laughter. But when it became quiet again, Gracie braced herself for another loud boom from the rifle.
When it came there was more laughter and talking, "Damn that 30-06 got some kinda power, how many you got for it" the other man replied, "'bout a hundred and fifteen. I bought five boxes last fall for me’n the boy to go deer hunting with and then I broke my leg and couldn't go. Plus I had part of a box from the year before."
Gracie knew she had to do something to stop them. She didn't think her nerves could handle that many more shots. By the fifth round she had made a plan. It wasn't the best but she felt it was all she had. On the sixth shot she slipped from under the desk. The noise masked by the reverberation of the rifle and the sick laughter. On the seventh shot she bounded to the copying machine that sat on a wheeled cart. The machine was large and very heavy, she knew, as she had had to push it around the office last week when the idiot in maintenance had returned it to the wrong office. On the eighth shot she slipped the plug in from the wall.
She waited for the laughing to subside before she gripped the cart with both hands and shoved with all her mite, aiming the cart for the two prone men. She screamed wildly as the cart picked up speed. The startled men leapt from the floor just in time for the cart to strike them at the waist. The momentum of the heavy cart knocking them back toward the emptiness of the broken window. The men desperately grabbed onto the cart in an effort to regain their balance. Gracie screaming loudly kept shoving the cart. The men screamed back across the copying machine at her.
The men’s screams changed in tone as they felt the floor disappear from under their boots. Their hands grasped desperately onto the cart as if it could save them. When Gracie felt the carts first set of wheels drop off the edge, she let go of the cart and tumbled to the floor to break her own momentum. As she sat she watched the cart disappear below the window seal and outside she could hear the men’s scream fading. It was several seconds before Gracie heard the cart and its riders crash to the sidewalk below.
Bob rolled off of her onto his back when he’d finished. Jill lay for a few minutes to catch her breath, feeling the semen oozing down the side of her hips. Grateful it wasn’t inside her, glad that she had found enough of her senses to tell him to pull out. She was on the pill. She just didn’t want his semen inside her.
Jill rolled onto her side, easing her aching groin muscles. She began to ponder why she had allowed this. Soon she heard Bob snoring lightly. “How can he sleep with all this stuff happening?” She wondered.
She asked herself again, why? Trying to reason it out, it didn’t make sense. After a long while she finally decided that she had truly done this to keep him from leaving her, she had felt she needed him to protect her. Then she vowed “ I’m not going to do that again for protection. I have always been independent. I will not screw someone for protection.” Then she began to formulate a plan.
After ten minutes of heavy thought Jill had decided her first step would be to get away from Bob. Find a way to get home, and then she would plan her strategy for the future from there.
Cautious, careful not to wake the sleeping Bob, Jill got to her knees, straightened out her skirt. Looking around the shack, careful to avoid looking at Bob, she found her purse. Then she spotted the K-Bar knife where Bob had laid it. She took it into her hand like a thing of magic. She considered taking his gun also but elected not to, as she had no idea how to use it. In the corner she spotted a dirty old backpack. The kind a child would carry books to school. She took the backpack. She knew she would need it to carry items that she found along the way.
Jill, items in hand crawled toward the door of the shack. Temptation finally got the better of her. When she turned back toward Bob, she almost gasped when she saw his penis. The thing lie across his hip like a sleeping snake still coated in their dried fluids. Suddenly she felt contempt for him, the brutal thrusting she had endured. She crawled on out the door, while she could still control her anger. Putting it behind her.
Outside Jill stood listening letting her eyes adjust to the surrounding darkness. She could hear voices and in the distance the sound of sirens. There was also a helicopter circling, possibly over downtown. But she could sense no one in her immediate area. Below the river still quietly flowed down its course. The light tumbling on the ripples made it seem brighter, on this moonless night.
Jill crept away down the rocks on her bare feet. Halfway down she angled back to the right to enter the underbrush that grew along the bank. The muggy air, heavy in her lungs seemed tinged with smoke as she began to breath more heavily, once inside the underbrush Jill moved slower, being very careful of any noise. She stepped over anything that would snap or crackle, never moving a tree limb unless she absolutely had to, to eliminate any signs of movement.
Once Jill felt she had passed far enough into the underbrush that no one would find her, especially Bob if he should awaken and notice her gone. She sat down on a rock taking stock of what she had. After going through her purse she found she really didn’t have anything in there she could use. Excess weight she thought. She removed her wallet that held her I.D., money and credit cards, placing it in the backpack.
Next she picked up the knife. Pulling it from its sheath, she held it in her right hand. Rolling it in her palm. Gripping it from different angles. She was amazed at how it felt in her hand. Even though it was heavy she maneuvered it with ease. She took a moment to grip the handle and study the sturdy blade. It seemed fearsome. She pitied anyone unfortunate enough to have been stabbed by one of these. Then a dark coldness fell over her mind. “I will use this. I will stab or cut anyone that tries to hurt me,” she thought. Jill almost relished the primal anger in her thoughts.
Jill re-sheathed the knife and dropped it into the backpack. Then she realized she couldn’t get to it quickly if she needed it. She picked it back up studying the sheath; it was made to go on a belt. But she had no belt. She began to think of a solution. Finally she removed the knife from the sheath and used it to cut six inch strip of fabric from the bottom of her skirt. Jill was amazed at the sharpness and ease with which the heavy knife cut.
Jill folded the six-inch strip long ways several times, ending up with a narrow strip of fabric. She slid the fabric through the belt loop on the sheath. Pulling the strip around her waist, she tied it tightly in a square knot. Then she positioned the knife to hang at her right hip. Jill drew the knife as she would in haste to be sure it would work, the blade came up upside down. She thought it over. Then turning the knife in her palm she re-sheathed the blade. She drew it again. This time the blade came up with the sharp side down. Satisfied she re-sheathed it, pulled the backpack into place on her shoulders, and began to move down the river. The knife flopping against her thigh seemed to give her confidence. Oddly she thought, she found herself wishing it were a gun.
After walking what she thought was several blocks in the dense brush, she decided she needed to stop for a strategy session. She knelt on one knee, looking across the river. She could still see small fires here and there. “Odd.” she thought, “Those fires are too small and too far away to put this much smoke in the air.”
Jill looked up the embankment, and then decided to have a look at the downtown area. She crawled up on her hands and knees slowly until she could peer over the crest. Immediately she was awestruck, she stared blankly at what she saw. Nearly every building had some amount of fire showing. Where the state capitol dome had once been, now there was only an evil orange glow. There were mobs of people running about wildly several blocks up the hill. But there didn’t seem to be anyone near the riverfront. Which relieved Jill somewhat.
Jill looked up and down the street that ran along the river. She could not see anyone. Then she glimpsed a shoe, a portion of a tennis shoe protruded from under a piece of cardboard leaned up against a wall next to a dumpster. The sight of the destruction paled as she studied the shoe. She needed shoes. It looked like it would fit her. “But where’s the mate?” she thought.
Finally Jill decided she would try to find the mate and get the shoes. She glanced up and down the street to be sure no one was around, when she didn’t see anyone she leapt from the bushes and run across the street to the dumpster, Pausing she squatted, leaned back against the dumpster.
Peering up and down the street again Jill felt like a thief. She crept around the Dumpster toward the shoe. Just as she was about to reach for it, it disappeared, pulled back under the cardboard. Jill drew the knife on instinct. The cardboard seemed to tremble, and she heard a soft whimper from underneath. Using her left hand she pulled the cardboard back to discover a crying girl in the fetal position, on the pavement against the wall.
The girl had long blonde hair and seemed to be in her teens. She was dressed in blue jeans and a heavy blue Tee shirt. Jill crouched down beside the girl, putting the knife away, as the girl didn’t appear to be a threat. “Its O.K.” Jill said soothingly, “I’m Jill. Are you hurt?”
The girls’ blue eyes seemed to study Jill for a few moments, before the girl shook her head, “No”
Jill then held out a hand to the girl and said, “Come with me, I’ll help you but we can’t stay here its not safe.”
The girl looked Jill over again and began to slowly rise. Taking Jill’s hand seemed to give the girl more confidence. Jill looked up and down the street nervously and said, “stay low and run with me across the street over the sidewalk, and down into the trees.” then added soothingly, “don’t be scared”
The girl only nodded, not saying anything.
Jill turned and began to run across the street pulling the girl along by the hand. They jumped the curb, crossed the sidewalk and grass. Then slid down the embankment, down into the under brush. Once they were well down into the tree’s Jill stopped. Kneeling down she pulled the girl down with her. She waited and listened to see if anyone had followed them. Satisfied they were alone Jill turned to the girl saying, “ O.K. we’re safe what’s your name?”
The girl hesitantly replied in distinct Alabama drawl, “Missy Stevens”.
Jill smiled reassuringly saying, “Hey, its O.K. Missy. Do you live in Nashville?”
“ No ma’am.” the polite girl responded, “I live in Montgomery Alabama.”
Jill puzzled asked, “Where are your parents, were you here with them?”
Missy feeling more relaxed replied, “ They are in Montgomery, and I’m here on a school trip, to the museum and the Ryman auditorium. The people flooded the streets. I got lost and just ran, I was so scared”
Jill hugged the girl to her to console her. After a minute Jill asked seriously, “Did anyone hurt you? Then gulped hard and asked “Rape you?”
Missy shook her head and said, “No I hid from them”
Jill smiled and asked, “OK I’m glad. How old are you?”
Missy replied, “Sixteen, and I’m a junior in high school.”
Jill smiled again and said, “OK, don’t be scared I’ll take you home with me.”
Missy smiled for the first time and said “OK that sounds great.”
Jill frowned and looked at the river and said, “Only problem is we have to cross that and then go through all that on the other side.”
Missy seemed to frown and then appeared to be thinking. After a moment she said “Can’t we swim across it. I was on the swim team at school.”
Jill looked at her, she seemed in perfect shape, lean but well developed. Her hips shapely and her breasts were rather large for her size Jill guessed a full B cup maybe a C. Then Jill considered Missy’s clothes. Silently Jill wished she were dressed as ruggedly as Missy was. Now in rags, Jill’s clothing barely covered her. Both breasts were now visible through tears in the blouse. The skirt she knew hung in shreds. But at least it was something she thought.
They both sat watching the river. Trying to decide how to get across. Jill had already decided its width made swimming almost impossible. They would need something to support them. Looking around her, she spotted a big log on the shore. Up out of the water, it would be baked dry by the sun. “If,” she thought “We could get it into the water, we could hold to it and swim, guiding it a we go.”
Jill considered the clothing again. It would bind them, Give them weight and drag in the water. She was about to scratch the idea, but finally decided it’s the only way. “If we are ever going to get across, that’s it. I’m tired of sitting here on this side.” Jill thought.
Jill shucked out of the backpack, then turned to Missy, “I have a plan, you won’t like it but its got to be. O.K.?” Jill told her.
Missy said, “O.K. whatever it takes.”
Jill smiled and asked, “In the mood for a little skinny dipping?”
Missy looked puzzled asking Jill, “I thought you said it was too far?”
Jill smiled slyly, replied, “It is, for us to swim all the way at one time. But that big log down there will help us, allowing us to rest if we need to. One of us swims behind it pushing it, the other swims in front to guide it.” Jill explained.
“O.K.” Missy said suspiciously. Then asked “What about the skinny part, will we be naked?”
Jill explained, “Those clothes you have on will weigh a ton when they get wet. Plus they will drag in the water.” Jill paused to let that sink in, and then added, “O.K. When you swim you’ll have to fight against the heavy, water soaked clothes that will be clinging to your body, it will tire you out quickly. If we swim without them, we loose all that, even the drag as bare skin will glide through the water easily.” When Jill had finished speaking she watched Missy for her reaction. Missy still looked unsure.
Finally Missy asked, “It makes sense but how do we get the clothes across to the other side?”
Jill picked up the backpack saying; “We put them in this and strap it to the log.”
Missy smiled and said, “I’m game.”
Jill got the impression Missy had agreed too easily, she asked, “You agreed awfully quickly, I figured you would balk on the naked part.”
Missy smiled and drawled, “ I ain’t exactly a saint I have skinny dipped before.”
They walked down to the edge of the water, to the log. The log seemed huge. Jill walked around it looking it over. She realized it was only perched there upon the rocks. Jill believed just a stiff push would cause it to roll into the water. She looked around her seeing that they were in the open where they stood, that made Jill very uncomfortable.
Missy followed Jill’s lead pushing, against the log. It was heavier than Jill had thought. But after rocking it several times, momentum carried the log on over into the river. It floated perfectly like a pontoon. Jill looked at Missy smiling and commanded, “OK Strip and make it quick we need to get going! Someone could have heard the splash.” They both worked feverishly getting out of their clothes. Jill again started to stuff the knife into the pack but decided against it. She instead tied the belt around her bare hips, and then repositioned the knife back in place at her right side. Without looking around they waded into the water, ignoring the temperature difference they hurriedly pushed the log out into the deeper waters.
Once they got to the deeper waters they clung to the log. Jill swam behind the log, pushing the log. Missy swam against the log on the down riverside, pushing the log against the river current. It was pitch dark near the middle. Jill used the lights and fires on the other side to orient herself.
Near the middle they rested allowing the log to drift with the current. It was a much-needed break, as they were both exhausted. Clinging to the log, they laughed and talked, quietly while they rested. Jill said, “ I figured you would have your panties on at least.”
Missy said giggling, “I put them in the backpack. I saw you weren’t wearing yours so I took mine off too.”
Jill smiled, replied, “Well I would have worn them but I sort of lost them.”
Missy laughed.
Jill said, “It’s a long story, don’t ask.”
Missy giggled and said, “Oh, you’ll tell me. I’m the nosiest person you’ll ever meet.”
Jill laughed she was glad that Missy seemed to be revived. Jill found she liked the girl, the bubbling personality, and the openness. “Lets get going so we can get home and take a shower.” Jill said.
They assumed their positions. Jill paddling, Missy guiding.
Once they were past the swiftness of the middle current they began to make good time. At about a quarter of the way to shore. Jill began to get a funny feeling a sense something wasn’t right. She looked over and around the log at the lights and fire. Her eyes followed them down the river. Then back up. There she noticed it. The lights stopped, almost like something was blocking them out between them and her. Jill yelled to Missy, “Hold up. Quiet!” Missy heeded the order they sat quietly clinging to the log.
Listening intently, finally Jill heard it. The sound wasn’t very audible, just slight disturbances of the water coming from up the river. Whatever it was, it was close. She watched over the log as more of the lights were blocked out. Now the stars were being blocked out. Jill was near panic. She didn’t know what could be happening. She would swim, but didn’t know which way to go. Suddenly it appeared before them out of the darkness, a great flat rusty wall, moving rapidly down river.
By now it was too late to dodge it. Propelled by the deeper currents the barge moved swiftly. Jill yelled to Missy at the other end of the log, “Swim for it. Go around it”
It hit the log just as the words left Jill’s mouth. Abruptly they were propelled to the speed of the barge. The water splashing over the log from behind them generated by the speed of the barge. The force of the rushing water pinned them against the log. Jill found she was able to push against the front of the barge with her feet. By doing so, she was able to push enough to release her momentarily from the force of the on coming water. Still the pressure at her back and the splashing of water over her made it almost impossible to breathe. Gasping she yelled to Missy “ Push with your feet.” Missy heard her through the water splash. Kicking against the front of the barge they moved to the end of the log little by little, gasping for each precious breath.
At the end of the log they were pressed against the front of the barge. Now they could use their hands and knees against the pressure of the water to crawl sideways to the edge of the barge. Jill flung herself around, immediately the pressure of the water was released but now her body bounced and banged off of the side of the passing barge. Again she used her feet to wedge against the moving barge to propel her body out, away from the rough walls.
Jill bobbed in the water, her legs working treading water. She could feel her knees and elbows were skinned, felt generally beaten up. But now she was worried about Missy, Did she make it? Was she alive?
The long barge seemed to take forever to pass by her. There was no tug behind it Jill assumed the rioters had cut it free somewhere up river. It was a runaway.
Finally the end of the barge passed her, she saw a ladder leading up, She thought about ridding the barge down river but realized it was moving to fast for her to swim up to it. Besides she couldn’t, not yet, not until she found Missy.
As soon as the end passed her, Jill began swimming across behind the stern. Once on the other side she stopped to tread water, looking for the blonde head to bob above the water. It was still nearly pitch black. She couldn’t see far at all, She called for Missy again and again. Then listened intently but hearing nothing in return. It occurred to Jill, if they had cut one barge loose they could have cut more of them loose. She turned to look up river. It was no use she couldn’t see one unless it was right upon her. She knew she didn’t have the strength left to fight another one. She called once again, before she started swimming to shore.
This time the call was returned “Jill!” It was Missy but the voice came from near the shore. “Jill over here”, Missy yelled. Jill swam as fast as she could for the shore, when she got closer she began to look for Missy, but couldn’t spot her. Finally, when she called again Missy raised her hand out of the water. Jill was relieved to see her. She swam up to Missy saying, “Girl I was worried sick”.
Missy explained “After I got loose from the barge I treaded water for a minute then realized that bank was on my side so I swam over here to wait for you to bring the clothes”
Jill’s heart sank as she suddenly realized they were naked, and both of them in the furor of the fight had forgotten to grab the clothes.
Jill thought, then told Missy “I didn’t get them either.” Then she said, “It really doesn’t matter. We could have drowned trying to get them free of the log. Besides if a policeman sees us he’ll arrest us and take us to a warm jail cell. If the rioters catch us it won’t matter if we have clothes on or not. They’ll just shoot us or stab us through the clothes if we had them and if we had them they’d rip them off us to rape us. So I say not to worry about it, even with clothes we were going to do our best not to be seen.
“OK” Missy nervously said, “I guess that makes sense”
Jill trying to ease the girls nervousness joked “It would to you you’re a blonde.”
Missy laughed and splashed Jill with water then said, “ Sure, but you are a brunette and this was all your idea.”
Jill laughed saying, “Well we’re here aren’t we? Now lets get going we have to get home before daylight or we’ll get our tits sunburned.” Suddenly Jill seemed startled her hand went to her waist feeling there frantically. Breathing a sigh of relief, Jill said, “Its still there.”
Missy laughed at her, “Thought you lost something?” she asked
Jill smiled, “Yes, the knife I still got it!” she exclaimed joyfully. Then said, “Lets go.”
They waded to the shore, and then stood on the bank looking at each other self-consciously. Missy said, smiling, “This is going to feel weird.”
Jill said “Don’t worry we’ll stay in the bushes along the river.” Then pointing down the river said, “see that bridge, that’s the interstate I live just across the boundary fence, about six miles that way. We just stay in the bushes along the interstate. When we get to a bridge we’ll sprint across it as quick as we can, then get back in the bushes on the other side. When we get to my house we climb the fence an walk up to my back door.” Jill explained.
Missy agreed saying, “Sounds simple enough.”
Still feeling awkward they climbed up the bank into the bushes, and made their way along the riverbank. Along the way Jill found a four-foot metal pole that she picked up to use as another weapon and a walking stick.
Being without clothes made the journey a bit rougher, as they had no protection from the briars and sharp twigs. Crossing the fence onto the interstate was tedious also. Bare wire on bare feet, and then at the top having to straddle the fence. The sharp barbed wire so close to such a sensitive body part was nerve wracking.
Along the way, they had no trouble from people. Only a stray dog that Jill quickly dispatched with the pipe. They trudged through swampy areas. Mud clung to them up to their knees.
At the bridges they studied their surroundings carefully, to determine if anyone were near before sprinting across at a dead run.
It almost seemed deserted on this side of the river. Jill surmised that some of the people had gone downtown, while all others had fled, away from the city. Amazingly the interstate was clear, anyone leaving had already left. The riots had not touched the interstate. It seemed deserted, almost eerie to Jill.
At last they stood battered, muddy, sweaty, dirt clinging to their bodies, in the little patch of brush behind Jill’s house. Over the boundary fence in front of them they could see the back of the house.
Jill sat down to rest before crossing the fence for the last time. Looking at the house, the street lamps were still on, on the street that ran in front of the house. The house looked untouched. She guessed it was about three AM. After a moment she declared, “When I get in there I don’t know what I’m going to do first, eat, mix myself a drink, or take a long hot shower.” Then she sighed loudly.
Missy, who seemed to be in worse shape than Jill sat down and said, “I’ll do whatever you do.”
Jill laughed and said, “All but the shower.”
Missy sighed and said, “ Why not? I‘ve seen you naked before.” Attempting to lighten the mood.
Jill said, “ I don’t mind if you don’t, we’ll get it over with quicker that way. Then we can get in the bed.”
Missy mused, “Think that’s wise?”
Jill said jokingly, “Oh yeah, sleeping with a sixteen year old, I forgot.”
Missy looked at Jill strangely and said, “ No that’s not what I mean. I mean shouldn’t one of us be awake in case the rioters come here?”
Jill wondered about the strange look, but said “Oh no, we are both beat. We need some sleep. And you will have a bed of your own ya know.” Then Jill trudged up to the fence, grasping the barbed wire, climbing over. On the other side, she helped Missy over. Once they were both on the ground, they made one last sprint to the back porch, jumping the steps to stop in front of the door.
Jill stood stark still looking at the door. Missy looked at her and said, “Let me guess, no keys right?”
Jill without looking at Missy said sarcastically, “Nah, I’m just trying to remember which pocket they’re in.”
Missy observed, “With that deadbolt its gonna be tough.”
Jill said, “It’s not locked, only the knob”
Missy rolled her eyes and said. “Let me have the knife.”
Jill handed the knife to Missy. Then asked, “ What are you going to do?”
Missy said, “ Just watch.” She stepped to the door, inserting the tip of the knife blade between the woodwork and the jam. Once the knife was seated, Missy gave it a thump with her palm on the butt of the handle, pushed the door, the door swung open.
Jill felt tremendous relief to be back inside her home. The feeling of safety and security she usually took for granted washed over her. Breathing a sigh of joyous relief, she turned to Missy and asked, “Feels good don’t it?”
Missy shrugged and replied, “It’ll feel better after a good hot shower.”
Jill could see her point. She led Missy through the kitchen into the spacious living room and then to the stairs. At the top of the stairs, Jill pointed to a door at the left, saying, “That’s where your room is.” Then pointing to the right, Jill said, “That’s my room.” Then walking straight ahead the said, “ The bathroom is in here.”
Missy nodded in return, following Jill into the bathroom. Jill untied the make shift belt and laid the K-Bar on the counter top. Then both ladies stepped wearily into the tub. Missy Drew the shower curtain while Jill adjusted the water temperature and pulled the knob to start the shower.
They took turns under the showerhead, alternately wetting down, then soaping up while the other rinsed off. The tub was cramped, as it wasn’t built for two. Elbows bumped into one another, bodies sliding together as they changed from under the showerhead. Steam filled the little bathroom, the water in the tub often running dark brown. The tub floor felt gritty under their feet. In the end, they shampooed their hair before stepping out onto the tile floor.
They had started the shower quietly. Being too weary to talk. But now that the hot water had renewed them they chatted. Jill told Missy they would try to call her parents tomorrow to let them know she is safe. Missy doubting said, “ I don’t know if the phone will work and besides, Montgomery Alabama might be in worse shape than here.”
Jill now hopeful said, “Look we just had a bad experience, OK? It’s probably not that bad and even if it were. The government will bring in the National Guard to take care of it. By tomorrow or the next day this will be old news.”
Missy frowned, disbelieving, and then she said. “I hope so”
Finally, after they felt clean and the hot water started to chill, they stepped out, drying off on Jill’s big fluffy towels. Jill out of habit lay her towel on the hamper and padded out across the tile floor, nude. Missy thought it odd that Jill hadn’t wrapped in the towel like she had always done at home. But she followed Jill’s cue dropping her towel on the hamper, Following Jill out.
Jill led her to another room around the stairway. “This was a bedroom but I converted it to a den. I like the idea of sitting up here rather then downstairs. This is where I come to relax. The living room is barely used. Just for special occasions!” she explained.
Missy nodded and replied, “Cool”
Next Jill led Missy down to the kitchen. Where she opened the freezer and began naming off different microwave dinners. After selecting one for each of them, Jill put them in the microwave, setting the timer. Next, she pulled two diet drinks from the refrigerator, handing one to Missy. Jill opened her drink then sat down at the dinning room table.
Missy, feeling a little self-consciousness sat down with her drink also, noticing the coldness of her chair on her bare bottom. Finally, Missy worked up her nerve to ask, “Jill I know we ran around naked most of the night, you seem like this is like natural?”
Jill seemed a bit embarrassed and said “Well I rarely wear clothes around the house, I feel more relaxed that way and since we’ve already seen so much of each other,” Jill grinned “I figured you wouldn’t mind. But if you would feel more comfortable, I’ll go get you something to wear, you’re a little heavier built then me but I think I could find something, and well” she added “I really don’t have anything casual.”
Missy thought about it, then said, “No, I’ll get used to it I guess.”
Jill smiled and said, “OK but I’ll get you out something to wear tomorrow. When we wake up the stores will open, we’ll go buy you a little wardrobe, after we call your parents.”
Missy wasn’t sure about the stores being open or calling her parents but replied, “OK.”
The microwave finished with a ding, Jill set the trays on the table. They ate quickly, hungrily devouring their food. When they had finished Jill led Missy upstairs to the den. Jill dismissed the idea of TV. She just wanted a stiff drink before she went to bed. Walking over to the bar she relished the feel of the plush softness of the carpet under her bare feet.
Without thinking Jill pulled two glasses from the shelf, setting them on the counter. Then poured two inches of Seagram’s seven into each, she added ice and filled the remainder with Coke from the fridge. Missy smiled widely at her, as she mixed the drinks.
Jill picked up the drinks. Then noticed Missy standing there smiling and then realized her mistake. She remembered Missy was sixteen years old. Jill stammered, “Uh, I don’t know what I was thinking, I can get you a Coke.”
Missy smiled, walked over to Jill, said, “That’s alright I’ll take one of these.”
Jill didn’t know what to do, asked “Have you ever drank before?”
Missy replied, “Not really, I’ve snuck a few beers. But this is alright I won’t say nothing.” Then she took the glass from Jill’s hand.
Jill thought about it a minute then decided, “Why not?” They walked over to sit by the coffee table on the soft carpet. Sitting cross-legged, facing each other on the same side of the table, sipping their drinks. They talked quietly with each other. When Missy’s glass held only about half, Jill could sense Missy was rapidly becoming drunk. Her speech began to slur and she giggled a lot. But mostly, her inhibitions faded and she opened up to Jill.
Missy told Jill she thought Jill was cool, living alone on her own. Missy even admitted that she now liked going without clothing in the house, “It took a little getting used to, but I kind of like it. ” Missy said, smiling slyly. Then Missy asked, “Jill can I ask you something personal?”
Jill replied, “Sure.”
Missy seemed timid now when she asked, “Are you a lesbian?”
Jill laughed, it was an odd question, but replied, “No I’m not, Missy why do you ask?”
“Oh I just wondered, you living alone, as old as you are.” Missy replied. Then said,” I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Jill said then asked, “Are you sexually active?” Thinking she sounded foolish, wording it that way.
Missy giggled and asked, “You mean am I a virgin? Well no” Missy admitted, “I have been with six guys. ” The she asked “How about you?”
Jill smiled shyly and replied, “I’ve had five.”
Missy seemed to look at her strangely, then asked, “Only five?’
Jill told Missy she had concentrated on her school and her career. Then about some of the men she had been with, ending by telling about the experience at the shack earlier.
Missy giggled and asked, “Aren’t you on the pill? Why didn‘t you let him *** in you?”
Jill admitted she had never had a man ejaculate inside her, and didn’t want him to be the first.
Next, Missy asked, “I have seen other girls that shave themselves, do you like it that way?”
Jill replied, “Yeah, I do. It feels better to me, cleaner.”
Missy ran her fingers through her blonde curls. Slurring heavily now said, “I might shave mine too then.”
Jill replied there’s cream and a razor in the medicine cabinet.”
Missy drained the glass. Jill thought she looked woozy. Her eyes were mere slits, she began to wobble sitting on the floor. Jill asked, “Are you ok?”
Missy’s reply was a string of unintelligibly slurred words. Jill moved closer to her, just as Missy began to lean over. Jill caught her in her arms, picking her up with Missy’s arm around her shoulders. Missy was heavy, but Jill managed to get her into her room and into bed.
Jill lay her onto her back on the bed. She stood beside the bed looking down at Missy stretched out there. Jill felt she had met someone very special in Missy. Jill loved her personality they got along, and worked together so well. Missy was like a sister or a new best friend in high school. Sighing, Jill covered her up, turned out the light and went to her own bed.
As Jill lie on her bed, she cold tell by the light around the blinds that the sun was coming up. She stared up at the ceiling wondering, “ Will it be over when I wake up? Just a bad memory?” As she got sleepier she wondered, “What if it isn‘t?” Then she remembered the knife and the promise she made to learn more about self-defense, to be a stronger person, get more rugged clothes for herself, to not be so reserved. She drifted of to sleep with those things floating in her mind.
Jill awoke a little past noon. She lie on her bed listening, something didn’t seem right. Then it dawned on her it was oddly quiet, no cars on the interstate. “Surely its over.” She thought. Quickly, she got up, went to the window. Pulling the blinds aside looking out, she saw a barren interstate, no cars, and no cars on any street that she could see, none that were moving anyway.
Jill hurried to the den. She peeped out of the window there. The same emptiness greeted her there. No cars, no people, nothing moved, silence. It was as if she were alone in the world. Jill began to feel fear, and then shook it off. Feeling silly, she said to no one, “Well it’ll take time to get back to normal.” Deciding then to go make breakfast.
As Jill started cooking she heard Missy’s footsteps upstairs padding into the bathroom, after a moment the commode flushing, then the shower running. Jill smiled, thinking how good it felt to have someone in the house. She realized now how lonely she had been.
Jill was placing the last plate on the table as Missy came walking into the kitchen. Her eyes were red and puffy. Jill thought she looked pale. Jill grinned to herself, she asked, “Rough night?”
Missy only smiled at her. Jill also noticed Missy’s curly blonde pubic hair was missing. She was smooth and bare like Jill now. Jill said, “ I figured we could eat, and then we could try to call your parents.”
Missy looked at her and said, “I don’t think we’ll be able to get through. Have you looked outside?”
Jill said, “we’ll get through, it’ll just take time for things to get back to normal.”
“ Jill, I looked out the window, I can see downtown from my window. It’s a disaster. Fires are still burning. I think a building or two are completely gone.” Missy informed her.
Jill stopped eating, unbelieving she asked, “ The fires are still burning?”
Missy nodded.
Jill told Missy. “ Well let’s eat, I’ll go look after we eat.”
After breakfast, Jill and Missy went to Missy’s bedroom. Jill peeked out between the blinds. What Missy had said had been true. It did look like there were two or three of the buildings missing, plus the capitol building. Some of the others looked like burned out shells. Significantly more damage than Jill could have imagined.
Jill, suddenly remembering, ran to the closet in Missy’s room. She stored all her unused items there. Digging through the boxes, Jill found the pair of binoculars she had purchased for a trip to the Rocky Mountains. She ran back to the window, throwing modesty aside, she raised the blinds. Jill peered for several minutes, panning the entire area with the binoculars. It still looked like a war zone downtown. She found herself wondering if Bob had made it out.
Jill ran to every window using the binoculars to scan the entire area around the house. It all looked like a ghost town. The only notable site she had seen was the confederate flag flying from the radio tower. Strangely, she took comfort in that. At least one thing remained of the old Nashville. Setting the binoculars on the windowsill, she told Missy, “Let’s try your parents.”
In the den Jill picked up the telephone handset placing it to her ear. She heard only a dead silence. She clicked the receiver button several times. Still, all she heard was silence. She looked at Missy who asked, “Dead huh?”
“Yeah I guess so.” was all Jill could say. Hanging up the handset, she went to the TV. Clicking it on, the screen popped on to reveal only snowy static. Jill tried every channel, nothing. She clicked the set off. Turning to Missy who wore a smile that said, “I told you so.” Jill went to a chair and sat down.
Missy walked over to stand beside her. “ I bet they got the building that houses all the equipment.” Missy guessed.
Jill still only sat in deep thought. Missy asked, “what about the radio?”
“I forgot about the radio!” Jill exclaimed. Suddenly reminded. She hurried to the stereo system. Clicking it on, the dial preset to her favorite station. The speakers came alive with a clear voice. “All residents are urged to stay in their homes. Law enforcement officials are working to solve the problem. Martial law has been declared nation wide effective immediately.” Jill and Missy sat on the soft carpet, listening intently to the voice. “This includes restrictions on travel and all purchases of alcohol, ammunition, firearms and gasoline. In addition anyone found on the street will be arrested immediately. Commercial businesses are ordered closed for as long as the emergency is in effect.” The speakers went silent. Then continuing, “ This is the Emergency Broadcast System.” The message began to repeat itself.
Jill tried every station, spinning the dial. She switched to AM, spinning that dial also. She found the same exact message, the same exact voice, on every station that broke static.
Jill stood and walked over to flop down in a chair. Her mind stunned, she remained in deep thought for several hours. Missy would come in to talk to her occasionally. Jill either ignored her, or asked her to leave her alone for a while. Missy began to get worried about her, thinking it was more than Jill’s mind could take. Finally about four o’clock Jill began to move about. Missy hugged her when she came into the kitchen where Missy was cooking supper. Missy asked her softly, “Are you OK now.”
Jill replied, “I’m sorry that I spazzed out on you. It just got to me I‘m alright now.”
Missy held her tightly for a few more seconds making sure she was indeed OK. Jill had to admit the hug was helping her to feel better. Missy walked her over to the table, where they sat down to more of the frozen entrees. Missy commented, “As long as the freezer keeps working we’ll be able to eat. You got it full of these things.”
Jill replied, “Yeah I stocked up a little, I caught them on sale.” Just then they heard the racing of car engines coming from up the interstate. Jill and Missy leaped from the table and ran up to Missy’s room. The sounds were coming closer, from up the interstate, in the direction of down town. From Missy’s window they could see three cars coming toward them at a high rate of speed. It appeared to be some kind of a chase. Jill knew the vehicles would likely run past the house, on the interstate. She ran to the den, grabbing the binoculars on the way to her room. Missy was already at the window with the blinds up watching.
At the window Jill watched the cars approaching. Two of the cars, an Olds and a Lincoln were chasing a small station wagon. Before the cars got to Jill’s house, the Lincoln came around the station wagon. The Olds then moved up along side the station wagon, blocking it in the right lane. The Lincoln then began applying its brakes, forcing the little wagon to stop, just over the fence from Jill’s house.
Jill jerked Missy back from the window allowing the blinds to drop slowly. Jill whispered, “We don’t want them to see us.” Dropping to their knees, Missy and Jill peered out under the blinds. Raising the blinds up from the windowsill only enough to see out underneath.
Outside on the interstate two large black men came from each of the two chase cars. They carried guns in their hands. Three of the men went to the little station wagon, while one stood at the trunk of the Lincoln. Jill assumed the man at the Lincoln was the leader.
At the little station wagon, one of the men yanked the door open. Another, reaching inside pulled out a young woman about Jill’s age. The woman was white, slender, had blond hair, and wore a light blue top with blue jeans. The woman screamed at the men. The men held her arms behind her back as they walked her over to stand in front of the leader. Jill and Missy couldn’t understand what they were saying. Suddenly one of the men stepped closer and slapped the woman so hard she nearly fell.
The woman regained her balance. Now with her head hung down she began to slowly unbutton her blouse. The men stood near the woman laughing and gawking as she slowly disrobed in front of them.
Finally after wiggling out of her jeans, she was naked. The leader said something to her. When the woman didn’t move, a man stepped forward grabbing her breast. The woman wailed in pain, her shoulder slumped forward, her knees nearly buckling. The man said something again. The woman shook her head rapidly up and down. The man then released her breast.
The woman walked slowly, timidly over to the leader. Going to her knees in front of him, she kneeled at his feet. Still slowly, the woman reached up with her hands and unzipped his zipper. Reaching in with her fingers, she pulled the man’s penis out of his pants. She stared at it for a moment the man said something to her, she then hurriedly took the penis into her mouth. Immediately she began to move her head back and forth franticly. The men began laughing at her loudly as she worked at the leader’s crotch.
After a few minutes the leader grabbed the woman by the hair, pulling her to her feet. He led her to the trunk of the Lincoln. When he spoke to her, the woman obediently turned to lean over the trunk of the Lincoln, her hands braced against it. The leader stepped behind her inserting himself into her.
Jill and Missy watched helplessly as each man took a turn with the woman. After the first man the woman began to cry out in pain. The last man seemed to be more painful as the woman screamed constantly during his assault. From the way the woman screamed and the way their bodies met, Jill knew the man was raping her anally.
When the last man had finished. The woman, unable to walk, was carried to the backseat of the Lincoln. The men gathered her clothes, throwing them in the seat with her. The men then drove off in all three cars.
When the cars had left, Jill let the blind fall, turning to Missy, she saw Missy was crying. Jill took Missy into her arms, holding her tightly. Missy said softly, “That could have been us.”
Jill comfortingly replied, “But it wasn’t”
Missy asked, “ Where do you think they’re taking her?”
“Probably back to their place for the rest of the gang to enjoy.” Jill replied truthfully.
Missy pulled away from Jill. “If we couldn’t stop them from doing that to her, then we can’t stop them from doing that to us. We don‘t even have a gun.” Missy said sadly.
Jill knew it was true. Again, she felt so vulnerable. The fear, the helplessness that she had felt under the bridge came back to her. The promises she had made. Jill knew she had to do something, but what? It was too late to go out to buy a gun. She looked to Missy saying softly, “ We’ll think of something, I promise.” They hugged again, seeking comfort from each other, in the closeness.
In an attempt to lighten the mood, Jill said jokingly, “We’ve got to stop doing this or we’ll end up lesbians.”
Missy laughed and said, “I like it, but not that way Jill. It would be the same even if we had our clothes on. I know I’m not all alone, I guess.”
Jill smiled and said, “I like it too Missy, it’s comforting.”
Together they walked into the den, Sitting down they discussed how to make things safer. They decided reluctantly that they would start by wearing clothes around the house. They reasoned they could run better and fight better with their clothes on. After going through Jill’s entire wardrobe they were disappointed, all there was to wear was skirts and dresses. “ Damn didn’t you ever own a pair of jeans or a tee shirt?” Missy exclaimed, disgusted.
When she said that something in Jill’s mind clicked. Running back to the closet in Missy’s room, she began dragging out boxes. “I did have some I bought years back, they might still fit.” Finally, she found a box marked old clothes. Pulling back the flaps, they discovered neatly folded pairs of black denim jeans. Jill and Missy each pulled out a pair.
Holding them up, Missy observed, “At least they are jeans. But the black ones went out of style years ago.”
Jill, thinking about their situation replied, “Yeah, but I bet they’d make us nearly invisible at night.”
Missy agreed, “Yeah I’ll bet,” Then she asked, “Where did they come from?”
Jill thought back into the past and said, “Oh, I went through a phase or something in my freshman year of college.”
Digging all the clothes out they found two pairs of black jeans each and two black tee shirts each. Jill went to her room to grab some panties for them. They slipped into the panties then pulled on the jeans. Picking up a tee shirt Missy asked, “What about bra’s?”
Jill turned looking at Missy’s breasts. Smiled and asked, “Do you think yours’ will fit into one of mine?”
Missy realized her error when she looked at Jill’s much smaller breasts. Smiling she said, “No, I guess not. Sorry.”
When they had finished dressing they turned to one another. The jeans were tight, but were made of the stretchable type denim. Jill asked, “How do I look?”
Missy looked at her and asked, “Aren’t you going to wear a bra?”
Jill replied happily, “I’m turning over a new leaf in my life. I’m not going to be so reserved any more. I missed out on too much in my life, I’m going to have some fun now. So no I’m not.”
Missy smiled and said, “Ok, in that case other than a bad camel toe, you look cool!”
Jill looked puzzled. Asked, “What’s camel toe?”
Missy grinned, explaining to Jill, “That’s the outline of your pubic region showing through your jeans.”
“Oh.” Jill said feeling old and foolish. But looking down she laughed. Then looked at Missy, noticing she had camel toe also, she laughed even harder.
For shoes, they were able to round up two pairs of old tennis shoes from the closet. Jill had worn them for gym classes in college but they were still in good shape and fit snugly. “Oh yes.” Jill remarked. “Much better than running in high heels.”
Now that they had clothes Missy asked, “OK, now what about weapons?”
Jill thought for a minute then replied, “Well I’ve got the K-bar and a bunch of butcher knives.” Feeling terribly inadequate as she said it.
Missy asked, “Why don’t you own a gun?”
Jill looked down feeling regret. Replied, “I used to be against guns, Missy. I never saw a use for them. I was led to believe that only criminal’s and uneducated rednecks used guns. That only police needed guns. That the police would protect me.” Jill sighed and continued, “I’ve changed my mind, now. But I guess its too late now. I guess we‘ll have to make do without one.”
Giving up on obtaining any weapons, other than the knives. Jill and Missy discussed all the ideas of how to secure the house and what they needed to do to meet their needs.
To start with they rounded up every spare battery, flashlight, matches, and candle they could find. In preparation, in case the lights went out. They filled every bathtub, bucket and container they could find with water, in case the water stops. Jill put as many jugs of water in the freezer as she could fit. The jugs would freeze, so if the power did go out the jugs would help keep the food cold longer.
They inventoried all the food in the house. Jill remembered the terrorist attack stash of food in the garage. They brought that into the kitchen to add to what they already had. They figured they had enough for three weeks, depending on how much they ate and if the power would stay on for a few more days. They wondered about securing the windows, boarding them up somehow. In the end, Jill decided against it. “Things aren’t that bad yet.” She thought.
Jill remembered then about the safe room. She had never used it, not even for storage. The room was hidden in the right corner of the house, on the ground floor. A coat closet in the living room served as the entrance. They cleared all the boxes Jill had stacked in front of the safe room door inside the closet.
When they opened the door the hinges creaked loudly. Jill walked into the room to look around. The room smelled musty from disuse, it was also very dark. Missy brought Jill a flashlight. With the flashlight, Jill discovered the walls; floors and ceiling were poured from heavy concrete. The entrance door was painted to match with the closet wall, and was made of heavy gauge steel. A large lock was mounted to the door. Jill remembered the key hung just inside the closet door. The Real Estate agent had shown it to her and Jill had never bothered to move it. Mainly the room was bare, other than a vertical gun rack on the wall near the door.
Jill assessed the room deciding it could withstand just about any kind of punishment. Jill and Missy decided to begin sleeping in the safe room on the day bed from the living room. Only one of them at a time would sleep, the other would keep watch from the second floor windows.
Jill and Missy also decided that if worse came to worse they would both run into the safe room and lock the door. Hopefully they would not be found, or else the intruder would not bother trying to break through the heavy door. As an after thought Jill decided to move the food and other supplies into the safe room. That way in a bad situation the food would not be stolen unless they were discovered. Once everything had been moved into the safe room, they decided to go up to the den for a few drinks, and relax.
Jill didn’t make Missy’s drink as stout this time. If Missy had noticed she had not said anything. Still by the time Missy had finished her glass, her speech was starting to slur. Jill thought the slurred Alabama accent sounded funny.
They sat in the dark, only the light of the streetlight shown through the window illuminated the room. Another of their security measures, no lights. Hopefully anyone looking for trouble would by-pass the unlighted house. Jill looked up and down the street all the homes were dark. She guessed they had all run away. All but the house the redneck lived in. Twice she had spotted light in the house. Once it was a flashlight in the room but only briefly. At another time it looked like the reflection of the streetlight off of some kind of glass. Jill suspected it was someone scanning the neighborhood with binoculars.
Jill and Missy chatted and laughed, they talked about all sorts of things, basically just relieving the stress of the day. Missy heard the sound first, a surprised look coming to her face. Before she could say anything Jill jumped to her feet, whispered, “The interstate!”
The sound was a siren off in the distance. They ran in the dark to Missy’s room. Looking out the window toward downtown, they saw lights. A lot of them, and one set of blue lights. They were moving at tremendous speed on the abandoned interstate. Jill asked quietly, “Cops?”
Missy shrugged her shoulders.
Jill watched the vehicles approaching, guessed by their speed that they would by-pass her house. She whispered to Missy, “A chase!” then ran to the window in her own room. From there she could see the vehicles, as they had gotten much closer. Jill now saw that the police car was in front of the other vehicles. “They are chasing the police?” she thought incredulously. Before she could say anything to Missy, the first car behind the police car veered into the left lane. The same car then moved up along side the police car. Jill recognized the Lincoln from the rape earlier.
The Lincoln passed the police car, veering back into the right lane in front of the police car. It was the same tactic as with the station wagon. Now the woman’s station wagon appeared coming up along side of the police car, boxing it in. The Lincoln’s brake lights came on just as they neared Jill’s house. Only the officer did not brake, instead slamming hard into the rear of the Lincoln. Then the officer braked hard. The car behind slammed into the rear of the police car. The officer used this sudden burst of momentum to steer against the smaller station wagon.
The police car rammed diagonally into the station wagons front fender, the force of the impact causing the station wagon to spin sideways. The tires caught on the asphalt causing the station wagon to roll over on the interstate.
The police car now free seemed to attempt to cross the grassy median. Its speed being too great, the police car left the ground when it came back up the embankment on the other side. Sailing across the other lanes, it landed in the trees across the interstate from Jill’s house. Jill and Missy looked at each other astonished at the sight.
The other cars slowed, turning around on the interstate, going back to the car that had rolled. Once there, three men got out of the two cars ran up to the overturned car. After a few minutes they returned to their cars carrying the guns from the overturned car. Jill assumed the driver was dead.
Once back in their cars the men pulled away, driving back toward downtown. Jill was surprised the men had not checked on the officer. She was certain the men would surely return. Missy said quickly, “Let’s go help the officer.”
Jill said, “We can’t risk it, what if they come back?” Missy didn’t seem happy with that so Jill added, “Missy they’ve got guns we can’t even risk being seen.” Jill felt the helplessness return as she said it. Missy seemed to accept that. Jill thought more about it then said, “We don’t even know if there was an officer driving the car. It could have been abandoned, anyone could have been driving.”
Missy remained quiet looking out the window into the trees where the car had disappeared. Jill sighed, said, “We’ll give it thirty minutes, if no one shows back up, we’ll go take a look.”
Wonderful story!!!! I really enjoyed reading it. If you ever have more please do share....especially about Jill and her goings on....and if you need help editing...it's what I do for a living.
Good Job Billy You have done good,I'm impressed!How have you been I havent seen you in about 20 years! I figured you would have had that degree by now!Are you still with the S.O. or what?
thanks medic for the read and review. i sent you a P.M. both here and at CT but i guess you are like me and never check them. LOL. I Was hopeing that since you know who I am, maybe you could decloak and we could talk about old times. you got my curiousity blazing.
anyway thanks for the read and i hope you enjoy the next one when i finally get it ready.
I bought the book and read it with a great deal of enjoyment. I do hope you post the second book hear. I would loike to follow the story. You did a fine job with your first effort.
Thank You
i too bought and read your book Bill. id saw one of your posts about a book youd read on a forum, and said wtf? looked at lulu.com, and ordered it. MONEY WELL SPENT!!! awesome book!! great read!! and to be honest i WANT a frickin sequel IN PRINT!!
really, i WILL PAY to get the sequel, i think your story is that good!! youve alot of talent, and i sincerly hope you pursue your writing.
for what its worth,
Urban Hillbilly
p.s. any chance of an autographed copy?
p.p.s. im GLAD you posted about your book, even as if youd read it, had you not, id have NEVER known about it, and would have missed a great read!
thanks for your comments UH, i tried to PM you. but thank you for taking the time to read my work and to let me know how you liked it.
Hammer: i put that section in as well as other sections, such as when "Dwike" tells of his experiences during the fall to broaden the scope of the story. i felt that consentrating to heavily on the main characters would grow tiresome. the same with "Jim Tompkins" relating his experience during the war.
actually after writting the "Jeanna" section i was intrigued with her character and her story. i think it would make for a great spin-off story. Maybe someday i will have the time to continue my writting, it is something i enjoy.
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I guess I’ll finish up that criminal justice degree or possibly change to something else.
(Streak I’ve had to fight with) I was concerned about this and pm’d Dennis to ask if it would be OK on a level of what you would find in an ordinary bookstore novel. So without quoting the PM I take it that’s its OK on that level. My friend that helped me proof read it, considers the adult content as less than a “Longarm Western”. I have never read one of those so I can’t comment.
ccf: As for the sequel, I got 18,000 words into it before the bomb fell. If I can find the time, or that one supervisor leaves, I’ll finish it up and post it here. Until then could I interest you in some nice Algebra equations?
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Such talent
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