Kiss My Apocalips Ch. 10

He stood, gawking, staring mostly at her breasts, while I studied his eyes. Finally, I jerked a thumb toward the stairs. "This way, Sam. Got to get you processed. Wanda, you lead the way, please."

She glanced at me questioningly, but nodded. "Okay, lover."

She walked off in the right direction, but paused and looked back when our new acquaintance said: "Wait! Before we go, before you drop me off and leave me, I gotta tell you something!"

I moved closer to him. The guy was significantly smaller than me, but he was trained military. I was suddenly ready to take action, but I hoped I portrayed calm. "What is it?"

He stood fidgeting, his hands by his sides, his fingers clenching and unclenching. "It's just that ... Well, all that talk about honor and shit ...."

"What is it?" I repeated. "Tell us, Sam."

"It's just that I haven't been acting very honorable for the last week or two. When I think about it, I feel ... sad." He was looking at Wanda, seemingly talking to her alone. "There were these girls, see. The boss ... he got 'em somewhere. And they're all ... pretty. Like you. And sexy." He seemed to be pleading with her. "And back at home, back in Des Moines, the girls were nice. But most of them ...." He frowned and looked down, then back up at her. "I've always been real respectful around girls, you know? Always! That's just the way we learned. That's the way I was brought up. But these girls ... the girls the boss got us ... they didn't really expect us to give 'em respect. They didn't seem to WANT respect! Do you know what I mean? Am I making any sense?" He was crying.

"Hey, Sam!" Wanda said, concern in her voice. She started moving toward him, but I held up and hand, stopping her. I was standing behind him, and he didn't see the gesture; but thankfully, Wanda halted.

I reached up and tapped the earpiece so that I was transmitting. "Sam, I'm really sorry, but there are lots of things we have to do tonight. I can see that you're having some trouble understanding everything, and I'm concerned. I'm very concerned. We need to get you upstairs, so we can process you. Then, you'll be one of us. You'll be on our side. But I need you to follow Wanda up the stairs. Wanda, lead the way. Now."

Wanda nodded and turned. "Yes, sir," she said nervously; and she walked briskly toward the steps. Sam put out his hand, as if wanting to make her stop, but thankfully said nothing.

"Let's go, Sam," I told him. "We're on a schedule here."

He nodded, and finally shuffled after her. I'd left my rifle in the golf cart, but I didn't want to leave him unattended to go back after it, so I followed closely. When I got to the foot of the stairs, I looked up and saw Juanita standing at the top, an assault weapon at the ready, but not aimed at any of us. I breathed a sigh of relief as we mounted. Sam didn't see her until we were almost there; and then, he seemed almost relieved.

"Juanita," he said softly. "Jacob told me you were here. It's good to see you again. It's really good to see you." If anything, he was crying harder.

As I got to the top, Juanita handed Wanda the gun, then reached out and put an arm around the man. "It's good to see you, too, Sam. Come with me. Right down here." She turned them so that they were walking abreast; and for the first time, I saw that she had a gray steel double-edged knife in her other hand, but strategically positioned so that he couldn't see it. I had no idea where the blade came from. I swear, she hadn't had it seconds before. She wasn't holding it the way I would have, with the blade upward. Rather, it was reversed, as you would hold a knife you intended to stab downward with. The sight made my blood run cold.

"When I heard one of the men was at the gate," Juanita said pleasantly, "I hoped it was you. You were always one of my favorites, Sam."

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered happily. "Absolutely. How are you? How are you feeling?"

"The truth is, I'm feeling kind of weird tonight. I planned this all day. Coming here and switching sides, I mean. But then, later tonight, I started feeling really strange."

"What were you doing when you started feeling that way?" She led him into one of the conference rooms and pointed idly to a chair. He sat automatically.

"I was fuckin' one of the whores."

Juanita froze momentarily, but then seemed to force herself to resume. "I see. Is that all you did with her? Just fuck her?"

Now, he seemed uncomfortable. "Well, I'd brought her some food. Cranston told me to take it to her. Um ... actually, he gave me enough for both of us, so we could eat together and then fuck. The whores always want to fuck. Know what I mean?"

"Sure, Sam. I know what you mean."

"So, we ate together and talked. And then, we fucked. The whores are for fuckin'. Know what I mean?"

"Sure. I know what you mean." She nodded and tried to smile, but didn't quite pull it off.

"And we both fell asleep. I woke up, and it was already the middle of the night. I really had to struggle to get myself dressed and on my way. I had been planning to come up here. I planned it all day long. Except... it was so hard to wake up! But I made it here! I made it! And ... here I am! But then, Jacob started talking about honor, and all. And it made me all sad, Juanita! I mean, fuckin' the whores and everything. Because, back home in Des Moines, I'd never do nothin' like that. And then, I saw the girl that was with Jacob, and she was just like those girls back home, you know what I mean? Where did she go, anyway?" He looked around and spotted Wanda standing off to one side. "There she is! Isn't she pretty?"

Juanita seemed to heave a massive sigh of relief. "On your feet, soldier!" she ordered, and he complied immediately, without question. "This way." She pointed, and he began walking slowly. She led him to another room; a small room with a bed against the far wall. She pointed, and he walked in automatically. "I have things I have to attend to. You can sleep until I'm ready for you. You look like you could use some."

"Thanks, Juanita. I AM really tired. Um ... Thanks." And he threw himself onto the bed and ceased moving. Juanita backed out, closed the door and locked it.

Wanda was suddenly in my arms, clutching me and shivering. "Holy shit! I've never seen anything so freaky in my whole entire life!"

I hugged her, but looked over her head at Juanita. "Any idea what he's on?"

"Not really," she replied, walking down the hall and into the command center they'd been using since the start of this. She tossed the knife idly onto the surface of one of the desks. "A powerful sedative. Lorazepam, maybe? It actually says something about his strength and character to have made it here at all. Overdoses tend to bring out hidden aggressions and insecurities in the form of fixations and even hallucinations. He seemed obsessed with the fact that he'd been availing himself of the sexual incentives provided by Hyphen, but he also felt extreme guilt because of his upbringing." She paused and smiled. "Listen to me; I sound like some sort of expert, when I'm obviously not. Anyway, I'm willing to bet that he's going to wake up not remembering anything about what happened here this morning."

"I'm really glad you didn't have to use that knife."

"Me, too. He's actually not a bad kid. And now ...." She pointed toward a computer screen and at a yellow dot a few hundred yards from the main gate. "You ready for round two?" She opened a desk drawer and produced a pair of steel handcuffs, which she presented to me.

"Thanks. You going to brief Dmitri on what happened?"

"I been listening," my earpiece replied. "You still on hot mic. I hear it all."

"Round two," I grumbled.

"No rest for de wicked."

I reached up and tapped my earpiece, then moved to Wanda so we could hold hands, and I led her back downstairs. The powered barn door was partially open, and we drove out into the darkness, only to stop short after just a few yards. The fog had thickened to the point of near zero visibility. I got out with a flashlight, and walked around the golf cart so I was standing next to Wanda, just to the left of the driver's seat. And, very slowly, I walked alongside her as she inched the vehicle forward. When I came to the left edge of the gravel surface, I had her ease back toward the center of the driveway. We did that for about five minutes, before we almost ran into the gate. I had her back up a little, and I used the flashlight to peer forward, downhill.

I tapped the earpiece. "We're here, Juanita. Visibility is non-existent. Where's our target?"

She answered immediately. "He's right there, Jacob. I show him right at the gate. Can't you see him?"

"Hello?" I cried loudly. "Anybody there?"

Failing to raise a response, I returned to the golf cart and switched the headlights to high; then I returned to the gate, shielding my eyes from the glare, while I continued probing the area with my flashlight.

"I think I see him," I intoned for the benefit of my earpiece. "He's lying on his right side, facing the fence, about ten feet away." I returned yet again to the vehicle and honked the horn several times. Once again at the gate, I fixed the light on the long lump in the driveway. "He's not moving. Looks from here like he's either dead or asleep."

"Might be trap," Dmitri's voice intoned.

"Nobody else around; right, Juanita?"

"That's right," she answered. "He's all alone."

Yet again at the golf cart, I had Wanda set the parking brake, then I helped her out, handed her my rifle and positioned her to one side of the gate, making sure she could see our target.

"Okay, open the gate," I said. And the thing swung open. I drew my pistol and advanced to the prone figure cautiously. "He's breathing," I muttered. Prodding him with the toe of my boot produced no response. Carefully, I used my foot to roll him over, face down. Then, taking a deep breath, I holstered my side arm and knelt beside him, quickly positioning his hands behind his back. It went much more smoothly than I thought it would. Finally, after rolling him back into a face-up position, I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a sitting position; then, keeping the momentum going, I jerked him upright and slung his inert form over my left shoulder.

I grunted. He was a big guy, and weighed well over two hundred pounds. I REALLY needed to start working out again! Even so, I was able to march back uphill, and I plopped him down in the passenger seat of the cart. "Close the gate," I ordered. "We've got him. African American fellow, shaved head, six-two and about two-twenty pounds."

"Either Farnsworth or Howard," Juanita commented.

"You got TWO guys like this?" I exclaimed. "Holy shit! This dude is all muscle!"

"America's finest."

"We're starting back. It's going to take a few minutes in this pea soup."

Again, I walked alongside the golf cart with the flashlight, but this time from the other side, as I was keeping a hand on our unconscious prisoner's shoulder so he wouldn't fall over. Juanita met us inside the barn and helped me unload him.

"Howard," she said, smiling. "Again, a nice guy. I'm glad he's up here with us. From the state he's in now, it's a miracle he made it up the hill before he passed out. Probably did it through sheer willpower. Let's leave him cuffed to one of the support posts. I'll come down and get him after sunrise."

"You going to get any sleep tonight?" I asked her.

"Yeah. It's almost Sadie's shift. I'll get a few hours. Why don't you leave the cart plugged in here, Wanda? Go back and catch some Z's with Jacob and Doriana. I'll give you a wakeup call."

We walked back down to the south bunker hand-in-hand, and found Doriana waiting impatiently. We all stripped and crawled under the covers while relating the morning's adventures. My watch told us it was2:45. Wanda snuggled into my right side almost frantically, as if her body couldn't get enough contact with mine; but almost immediately, she began relaxing by small degrees. In about five minutes, she was sound asleep. Doriana lasted longer and refused to succumb to the call of slumber until she had told me that she loved me.

"Reveille, Reveille!" Juanita's voice barked over the tablet. "Rise and shine! This is your chance to be heroes for truth, justice, etcetera, etcetera! They've just started up the slope, and they're fanning toward the east and west from their encampment. Judging by their current speed, they'll probably arrive at the tree line a little before noon. Mandatory SITREP call for all hands at zero nine hundred, in one hour." There was a pause. "That is all." There was another pause. "I've always wanted to say that."

"Oh, no!" Wanda screeched, pulling on clothing. "I've missed breakfast delivery! My golf cart is still in the barn!"

"Take it easy, kid," I told her. "You've got a long day in front of you. Pace yourself." But she was already gone.

It was still very foggy; however, not the zero-visibility we had encountered on our early-morning mission to the front gate. I searched the front of the bunker for a long time, but still could not make out the trees that we knew were just fifty yards distant. A check of the tablet that indicated all the mountain's human lifeforms indeed showed movement up the slope, but only half a dozen, and climbing at a very slow rate of advance. To me, it made no sense. The trio that came scouting the day before had made the trip in less than an hour. Even the two defectors, proceeding along the driveway, had made it in about half an hour. Now that the battle was imminent, why was there such caution?

Hannah pulled up in a golf cart. "Coffee and donuts!" she announced.

"Where the heck did we get donuts?" I asked in amazement.

"Frozen fresh almost a year ago," she informed us. "Thawed only this morning! Powdered sugar, cinnamon crunch or chocolate. Bon appétit!" She paused only long enough to kiss each of us before heading toward the next bunker.

Doriana and I got our bedding packed away and situated in just a few minutes. Each of us visited the latrine, and then sat together in our chairs, sipping our hot beverages and fully waking up. Between sips of chocolate and bites of donut, she again started talking about the medical skill of our new recruit, Francine, and how she had saved a life with no more than the items in a small med kit and a tube of super-glue. I listened encouragingly, nodding and giving her support in her new choice of professions.

"Do you think I can do it?" she asked me anxiously. "Do you think I'll be able to save lives, like she did, during the day, AND be a mother, and still be a proper love slave to you each night?"

I couldn't contain a laugh at that one. "I think we can do anything we set our minds to," I told her, as soon as I could form a serious answer. "As for goals and priorities, we can adjust those appropriately as we go along."

We gave our full attention to the tablet computer as the countdown entered its final phase. Everybody was still in their same position, for the most part; but Nurse Francine and her partner, Linda, had joined the sheriff and the remaining Sally in the north bunker.

"Obviously lots to cover," Dmitri said, launching our meeting. "First tings first. Sally okay and in bed in lodge. We medevac as soon as we can to hospital in Acton." He waited patiently for the cheers to die down. "We all tank newest member, Francine, for saving her. She and Linda take over duties in west bunker." Again, he had to wait for cheers to abate.

"Next," he continued. "Jacob bring in two defectors during de night. Dey being housed up in rooms in barn. Dat bring total number bad guys down to twelve. Plus, we find out dey, and probably udders, given drugs to keep dem under control of Evil Doctor Hyphen and henchmen. I bettin' lots of dissension in de ranks right now. For dare side, dis probably last chance to win dis campaign."

"I have something to show you," Francine, or newest recruit said. Everyone grew silent, waiting for her to continue. "I operated on Linda here last night."

There were numerous gasps. "What was wrong with her?" Sadie asked, genuinely concerned.

Francine presented something to the tablet's camera, holding an item between thumb and forefinger that looked like a small encapsulated pill, only bright silver. "I removed this from her back, near her left side. It had only recently been implanted, and it didn't make sense that it was for birth control, since she already has one of those. I believe it's a slow-release system for a psychotropic drug, like Sub-J. Undoubtedly something that Doc Ronsler conjured up. This was constantly flooding her system with the compound. It's how they're controlling the women. This is what makes them sex-hungry, compliant camp followers. And, this is what's in store for all the females here, if the bad guys win the day and we happen to survive. We'll all be in Bimbo City, right along with the girls that are in their camp, down below. I just wanted you to know."

"Holy fuck!" Sofia whispered loudly. It's the first time I'd heard such harsh language from her.

"Literally," Wanda added.

"I only see six combatants advancing toward us," I chimed in, trying to change the subject back to a tactical one. "What do you think they have in mind?"

"Dares lots more dan dat!" the Russian commented. "You just can't see dem on dis display because dey aren't human! Every man you see climbing up slope, dey each controlling a couple robot fighters. Dat why dey keep stopping. Control one. Stop. Control udder one. Stop. Yes? I bettin' each soldier, he control one biped robot, and one some udder type. Four-legged robot, we call dem dogs. Probably have gun or rocket launcher on back. Track robot dey definitely de worse, but have big problems on steep slope."

"What's a track robot?" Wanda asked.

"They're propelled by metal-linked tracks instead of wheels or legs," Sadie explained. "Track vehicles are like tanks or bulldozers. The problem with them on steep slopes is that if they ever tip over, they're extremely difficult to get right-side-up again."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks."

"My turn," Juanita told us. "During the next hour, Dmitri and I are going to be going around to each of the bunkers and handing out some new weapons. Some of these are very lethal. If you do not want to be involved with firing these things, we will respect your decision. But if you take one, we have to know that you will be willing to pull the trigger when we tell you to. You don't have to tell everybody now, but you WILL have to tell us when we come around. Okay?"

That request was greeted with silence and few head nods.

"Next," she said. "Jacob said something to Dmitri last night that bears repeating. Professional soldiers know it, but our civilian volunteers may not. During a battle, individual fighters have no idea what's going on overall. You do your best and you fight your fight. But very few players actually know what's happening. We will keep you appraised as best we can, but we might not have time to update you during a battle. Please have faith in us, and we will inform you of the big picture just as soon as we can."

"Dat all for now," Dmitri said. "Next meeting in an hour."And the screen went blank.

Ten minutes later, Juanita was there giving each of us new weapons, which would be used in addition to our assault rifles. I got a Mk-79 grenade launcher, in all its Vietnam-era splendor. There were three ammo cans, each containing twelve rounds; and there was a no-shit bandoleer, with a dozen rounds, which I would throw over my shoulder and take with me in the event that I left the bunker for some other destination.

As I've mentioned before, it was a squat little weapon, less than three feet in length; and it reminded me of a sawed-off shotgun, but with a single hugely wide, round barrel. The rounds looked like bullets, or at least most of them did. However, they were huge; about half the size of a man's hand. You could only load one shell at a time, and she had me practice that several times. There were "smoke rounds," which were clearly marked as such, and topped with bright red or yellow, which were apparently the only colors we had. Dark gray rounds were "HE," or "High Explosive." And, in the bandoleer, there were a few rounds that were flat on the business-end. They looked like giant shotgun shells, and that's pretty much what they were: buckshot rounds, she called them.