Dan and the Bottle Ch. 12

"Good Lord, woman! This isn't exactly the time.... oh, what the hell!"

He struggled to keep his attention on the road as she started bobbing up and down on his hardening dick. He was having a rough time concentrating, especially when she bobbed up, sucking hard at just the head, swirling her tongue all around, but soon, he felt the tingling in his nuts and was blasting jets of his cum into her mouth, which she swallowed as fast as she could, licking up the few drops she missed before sitting back up, pushing his cock back in his pants and buttoning him back up.

He grinned over at her. "That was NOT fair.... you know I'm going to have my revenge when we get home."

She grinned. "I hope so!"

"Well, now I know why you wanted to come along."

"I had to... couldn't let you get yourself killed. Our baby is going to need his daddy."

"Uh huh... you know your ex might have taken you back."

"OOOhh, you'll pay for that!" She yelled, scowled at him, knowing quite well that he was joking.

"I wouldn't have him back.... besides, I hear he's with one of the women from that last bunch we brought in." She smirked.

"They're pretty well matched... he can't get it up, and even if he could, she won't let him touch her."

"Ouch! That's cold!"

Jim and all of the squad leaders who had led the successful raid were front and center in the open field, standing before the seven graves. Their heads were bowed, each lost in their own thoughts, as Father John read from the ancient Bible passed down to him from his great-grandfather. The bodies of the three Militia members and the four women who had been prisoners had been stripped, but out of respect had not been subject to the usual burial procedure and were lowered into the graves whole.

While the Father continued to speak, men moved up and started to shovel the earth back into the holes. Once all the dirt was back in and sprinkled with grass seed, and the seven wooden crosses were hammered into place, they had a long moment of silence, everyone reflecting on their memories of the three men they had served with, some saying prayers for the four dead women, and the small service was concluded.

Once again, George was volunteering at the hospital, ladling out bowls of stew and handing out breadsticks and sandwiches to the women they'd freed, this time assisted by Sherice. In the few weeks since their first 'date night', they had become inseperable; he rolled a cart with the food, while she followed with a cartload of plates, bowls, silverware, and bottles of water and assorted juices.

One of the women, a petite, green eyed redhead, inhaled the steam coming off the big pot of stew, and grinned. "Oh my God! Real food! It's been so long!"

Sherice smiled sadly at her. "Don't worry, hun... it gets easier, with time."

The young woman looked at her scornfully. "How would you know?"

"Sugar, I was in the same spot, eight or ten weeks ago."

"Really?"

George nodded. "I was dishing it up for her, right here, a bit over two months ago. Sherice, here, came from another Chinese base we took, about two and a half months back."

The redhead looked at Sherice from a different perspective now. "Oh.... I'm sorry... I... I didn't know. You seem so... I don't know... happy."

Sherice set down the handful of spoons, hugging George from the side, and nodded. "You bet I am."

The redhead's eyes widened. It was obvious these two were now a couple. She, herself, couldn't picture herself with another man, ever again. She realized she had a lot to think about.

Billie Jean sat back, the little girl on her lap squirming to try to get to the toy corner in the daycare where she was working. She smiled, wondering if she'd been such a handful when she was three.

"No, honey.... it's story time right now... don't worry, it'll be toy time in a little while."

The tiny blonde child in her lap turned to look up at her.

Billie nodded. "I promise, kiddo.... you can play with the toys later... don't you want to find out if the princess wakes up? I do!"

The little girl nodded, and Billie Jean looked for where she'd left off in the old children's book.

Starting to read again, she realized that her Daddy had been right. Learning to read had gotten her moments like this. She was still a long way from where Cassie and her other friends were at, but she'd get there. For now, though, she was happy to be able to read children's books to toddlers.

Besides, after her shift here was over, she had an appointment with the doctor, for what Doris called "the happy shot". It was a shot to prevent her from getting pregnant.... a good thing, considering she would be meeting Jeff O'Neill for a date down at the lake.

She already had the cooler packed, and had a small pipe, given to her by Doris, and a small bag of pot from the dispensary, bought with credits she'd earned here in the daycare. She was beginning to like life in the cave; the people were nice, no soldiers trying to shove their things down her throat, and she could learn pretty much anything she wanted.

She already knew a lot of the basics, of course.... how to tell the weeds from the vegetables, how to stitch up the old fabrics into new clothes, how to cook up a good stew; but the really serious things, like how to shoot a rifle or drive one of the many trucks in the 'motor pool' were a complete mystery to her.

Leeanne Davidson was teaching her to shoot, and Lee's new husband, Gar, had already started her on the driving simulator.

Mrs. Archer, her teacher at the school, was impressed with her progress, too, telling her she was nearly at an 'eighth grade' reading level, although her math skills were a little behind that.

Over the winter months, things in the Cave settled into a routine; between school, military training, and farming and other jobs, the newcomers from the several villages they'd freed had a lot on their plates, but, having known nothing but hard work all their lives, they stepped up and got things done. By the time spring arrived, some of them were growing restless, wanting to get back outside.

Jim knew all about this kind of restlessness; he'd wanted to get out of the Cave his entire life, just to see natural sunlight for once in his life.

He still had a lot of thinking to do, of course, but there was that old suburb to the south of them, that had survived the war pretty much intact.

Maybe, if his people could isolate that area from the old power grid, and set up a few generators to run electricity to all of the houses, they could all move into that area and set up housekeeping. It would mean drilling a few wells and setting up a water purification system, of course, but his techs could handle that. It would be a big help for the people who already lived there, too.

The Cave-trained former villagers could teach them a lot, and giving them a few dozen guns would definitely bring their diets up, considering the ample supply of deer and other wild game in the area. The absence of hunters on any real scale had allowed for a boom in the local population, and the deer had begun to migrate, following the grazing areas, which, of course meant an ample source of available protein.

They were in the center of a nearly five hundred mile radius of a soldier-free zone, but still, he'd take no chances there... he'd make sure they took along a few heavy machine guns, rocket launchers, and other deadly toys, to ensure that they could fight back... and a few of the old satellite phones, so they could call for help if they had to. A dozen of his own people had already volunteered to go along, to help them get set up and continue their training.

Doc Willis sat back at his desk in the schoolroom, while his few students studied the ten enlarged photographs on the board intently, attempting to assign names to the organs depicted. This was his advanced med school class; all seven of them.

Johnny Miller looked up at him and smirked before looking back down at his paper and writing something.

Willis smiled inwardly; if anyone would notice the trick photo, it would be young Mr. Miller.

Johnny picked up his paper, carrying it to Willis's desk.

He looked down the list, and found that Miller had, indeed, caught the trick; the seventh line contained the words 'Nice try, Doc.... Deer kidney'.

Willis smiled at this; his assessment of young John Miller was dead on.... not only had he seen that the kidney wasn't human, he had identified it correctly.

His father, Jim Miller, was teaching his own class at the same moment-- Ancient American History.

"As you can see, this is not the first time America has been ruled by an outside force. When loyal British troops attempted to seize arsenals of gunpowder, lead shot, and weapons from places called Lexington and Concord, it set in motion a chain of events that lead to a long, bloody war.... not unlike what we face today."

One man raised his hand in the middle of the class.

"But sir, that was so long ago, and with such primitive weapons. Could we really stand a chance, today, considering what we're faced with?"

Miller looked back at the man for a moment. Tim Riley was always the first to challenge him; he seemed to think that living under a Chinese yoke was acceptable.

"Mr. Riley, is slavery acceptable to you?"

"Well, no, but can't we find some way to make peace with the soldiers? I mean, do we have to kill them like you folks have been doing? Murdering them in their beds an' all?"

Before Miller could open his mouth to answer him, a young woman in front of Riley stood up and replied for him.

"Riley, shut up and sit down! Those bastards think we're all their personal property! They took me from my village when I was just a kid, and held me prisoner for years, and I'm GLAD those punks are dead! If I could, I'd take them all fuckin' prisoner, and kill them slow, with a dull knife!"

She glanced over at Jim, continuing. "Sorry, Mr. Miller... but I'm gettin' a bit sick of this idiot's constant whining."

Miller nodded to her, replying. "Not at all, Miss Connor. It's my opinion that you are completely justified in your feelings."

Miller shot a look at Riley, who was red in the face and opening his mouth to speak again.

"Mr. Riley, perhaps you'd prefer to go back to where you were... always wondering if the soldiers would leave you enough food to last through the winter, wondering who would be the next to be beaten, or killed, which of the young women would be taken and forced into slavery.... is that what you want? It can be arranged, after all... we can have you taken back to where your village was, and leave you there. I'll warn you, though, it'll be awfully lonely. You'll be the only one there."

"Of course not! I just think we could come to a peaceful solution!"

"Mr. Riley, America was founded on a basic premise of personal freedom and accountability. Communist China, on the other hand, runs on the premise that everything you work for belongs to the state, and you only get enough to survive. Their entire worldview is that they should control the world. We live here, in our city, on the idea that what you work for is yours. I'll earn a certain amount of credit today, in my position as a teacher. I may spend that credit at the grocery warehouse; on the other hand, I might buy myself a few boxes of ammunition for my favorite pistol and spend a relaxing few hours at the range, punching holes in paper targets, or on a few new fishing lures. Something else that the founders of this nation considered a sacred right, and target shooting and private gun ownership is something the Chinese consider a capital crime. To cut it down to basics, Mr. Riley, the Communist Chinese are our polar opposites."

He paused for a moment to take a long drink of grape juice from the cup on his desk.

"My point is this: under American law, I have that freedom, that choice. The Chinese that you're so quick to buddy up to would deny you that freedom. They won't give you that choice.... That is unacceptable to me... and to everyone else in this city. If you think you'd be treated better by those invading little scumbags, by all means, feel free to go live with them. I will guarantee you, however, that you will not be treated anywhere nearly as well as you are here. They will treat you as they treat every other American citizen--as property of the State."

Riley was red in the face at this, but he remained, thankfully, quiet.

Jim nodded to himself and continued. "On that note, folks, let's talk about the Bill of Rights."

He turned, pulling down a screen which contained a large version of the document in question.

"Who can tell me the source of these rights?"

A young woman at the back of the room held up her hand, and he nodded in her direction.

"The founders of the country believed they were inalienable rights, granted by God himself, Sir."

"Excellent, Miss Marcus. Exactly right. The first ten amendments were meant to protect and to guarantee rights granted by God.... or, more basically, they are inherent rights that we are all born with. A number of them were in particular contention, in the last few decades of the twentieth and the first few of the twenty-first centuries. There was a segment of the population, for example, who thought that all civilians should be disarmed, and the second amendment should be repealed. This had been proven, time and again, to be the first act of every would-be tyrant on the planet, but some very foolish people kept trying it."

Riley spoke up again, out of turn. "But letting everyone have a gun just encourages criminals, doesn't it?"

"Mr. Riley, what makes a criminal, a criminal?"

The other man thought it over for a second and shrugged "Opportunity?"

"Wrong. Criminals do not obey laws, no matter how many laws you pass. Making a law against murder isn't going to stop a man intent on killing you, nor would a law against guns. The only thing that will Always stop a bad person with a plan to kill you, to rob you, to rape you, is you fighting back. Yes, we have a small security force, here in our home; they cannot, however, be everywhere. People have to be prepared to stand up for themselves, whether that be as an individual or as a nation. That was the true meaning of the first part of the second amendment... a 'Well regulated militia'. A well regulated militia, in the exact context of the time it was written, meant the whole body of the people, properly equipped, self trained, and ready to fight against oppression at a moment's notice."

He paused in thought for a long moment, then, looking straight at Riley, and continued.

"All of God's creatures have an inherent right to self defense... the grizzly bear, for example, has his immense strength, and his sharp teeth and claws; the wolf has his sharp teeth, his speed, his cunning, and the backing of his pack mates. The common rabbit has protective coloration and bursts of speed. The equivalent of these, in man, is his inventive mind, and the hands he uses to make those things his mind has cooked up. I refuse to turn my back on any of these things. I didn't personally invent guns, but that doesn't mean I can't learn to use them."

"We live in a country that was founded on the principle of freedom; It isn't free, right now, but we can, and will, restore that freedom."

"I think we've pretty much proven, here, that the second amendment is as relevant today as it was when it was written, nearly four hundred years ago. Let's move on, in order... which brings us to the third. This one involved some things that should, also, be familiar to many of you..."

The young woman who had spoken up earlier, Glenda Marcus, shot her hand into the air again. At Miller's nod, she asked, "Wouldn't that have been more along the lines of the fifth amendment, Sir? I mean, the soldiers taking our food an' all?"

He raised an eyebrow, impressed. "I suppose I could see how you might think that, yes.... except that the fifth amendment was written, specifically, to apply to a legitimate government. These Chinese invaders are anything but that. They are an occupying army, which has no place here."

"Yes, Sir, but they were still taking our food without just compensation."

"True, Miss Marcus... and when anyone but the legitimate government of the United States does it, it's called stealing. The old government got away with a lot of that sort of thing under the guise of something they called 'eminent domain'... though they usually applied it to land they wanted.... to build a new road, for example.... something I'm hoping will be done away with under any new government we come up with."

"I see, Sir... I guess I still have a lot of reading to do!"

Miller smiled at her, replying "Don't we all?"

Just then, the buzzer on his desk sounded, signaling the end of the class.

As everyone began to leave their seats, he stopped them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, before you go, write this down. I would like each of you to go to the library and find a copy of a book called 'Unintended consequences', by a man named John Ross. Pair up, if you have to, but read that book. It has a lot of relevent history in it, but it reads like a good novel, which, in fact, it is. Dismissed."

Billie Jean walked in to the apartment she shared with her parents, picked up the small cooler she'd packed earlier that morning and was headed out the door when her mother stopped her.

"Where are you going, girl?"

"I'm going to the lake building with Jeff for a cookout, Mama... don't worry, I won't be too late."

"Billie Jean, are you doin' things you shouldn't oughta be doin'? I'd think, after what them soldiers done to you, you'd be stayin' away from that sorta thing!"

"Mama, you told me, after that day, that what they did to me was wrong, and a man who loved me would treat me better, right?"

Martha nodded, almost afraid of where this was going.

"Well, how can I find a man who cares for me if I stay in this here apartment all the time?"

Martha thought it over, but couldn't come up with an answer that made sense.

"Well, honey, I just don't want you gettin' hurt, is all.... who is this 'Jeff', anyway?"

"It's Jeff O'Neill, mama.... you know him, an' his parents, too... he's from our old village. Him and I used to weed the fields together."

"Oh... alright, then. I remember him. He's a good boy. You just be sure he doesn't go gettin' any funny ideas, y'hear? What's he doin' with his time these days, anyway?"

"He's workin' in the cornfields, and going to school, plus he's takin' the soldier training, just like me. C'mon, mama.... I've been workin' real hard all week... I need a break!"

Martha nodded. She knew her daughter was working very hard, between the school and the daycare center and getting the soldier training. If she pushed too hard, she'd snap. Still, Billie Jean was her only daughter, and she knew the child was vulnerable.

Jeff was just walking up to her door as she stepped out, cooler in hand. He saw the look on her face and frowned.

"BJ, are you alright?"

"Yeah... Mama's just worried about me... thinks you an' me might be doin' things we shouldn't be doin'."

"What did you tell her?"

"What else could I tell her? We're gonna have a cookout at the lake, then you're gonna fuck my brains out!"

He stopped, stunned at her words. "Are you kidding?"

"Of course, I'm kidding! You really think I'd tell my mother THAT?"

"I don't know... you've gotten a bit wild, here, lately. No tellin', anymore."

She turned to look at him, grinning.

"Well, it ain't gonna happen today, unless you brought along some o' them rubber things Mickey uses.... the doctor told me that shot he gave me will take a few days to really take effect. I don't want you gettin' me in the family way."