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Andrew Roller Presents
GIRL PATROL
Chapter Seven
We sat in the sun eating manna. Two more weeks had passed. We
were following the sun west. We had come to the banks of a great river; it
flowed below us, sparkling in the rising sun, seemingly like a mini-sea as
it went somewhere, we knew not where.
ÒMaybe we should build a boat,Ó Jan suggested, sitting in her police
uniform in the half-dead grass along the bluff.
ÒOr we could go swimming,Ó Becky suggested, hugging Cuddles and
her Magnum. We were aboriginals, I thought, gazing at the river as
unknowingly as any primitives, eating white flakes off the ground with
our bare hands.
ÒWe could do a lot of things, I guess, as long as you girls manage to
keep the right ammo in your guns for whatever gets the nerve to attack
us,Ó I said. And that was about the long and short of it; Kim kept silver-
filled shells in her shotgun for the werewolves. Jan kept phosphorous in
her Uzi for the more numerous vampires. And little Becky, well, she
usually dropped her gun so we didnÕt worry too much about her. Like I
said, if I wasnÕt a nice guy I probably would have insisted on carrying her
Magnum, but she wanted to keep up with her companions and I didnÕt have
the heart to make the littlest of the three girls sad. She was the
shortest, she had the smallest tits, and she still relied on a teddy bear for
emotional support. She didnÕt need to be unarmed too. Anyway it was my
job to feed the right ammo to the girls in an emergency. It was an
important job; little Becky would have fumbled it for sure in a crisis. Did
wolves need silver or was that phosphorous, Becky had asked more than
once, asking for ammo for her own gun. The fact that she couldnÕt say
ÒphosphorousÓ didnÕt help much. Oh well weÕd all taken to calling it
ÒphosÓ, but the fact remained that she would have been a poor ammo-
supplier. No, it was my job both to carry the ammo and keep it flowing to
the girls. Come to think of it my job was quite extensive; get the fire lit,
keep the matches dry, entertain the girls at night with my cock (oh well I
couldnÕt complain about that). People in the olden days would have said
that I was somehow using the girls, but in fact I was a strong pillar of
their support. Without me Becky would no doubt have been teased by Jan
and Kim into disappearing; not to the best of fates, IÕm sure. And who was
to say that Kim and Jan would have stayed together? WerenÕt they trying
to get Becky to side with one or the other of them, when they werenÕt
picking on her for being the youngest? No, it was my presence, the fact
that all three girls competed, in the end, to be most liked by me, and most
admired, that kept us together. In the end, when they were done bickering
and jousting with each other, they looked to me for approval and support.
And I provided it, loving all three equally and making sure that any spats
they had didnÕt turn deadly. They were, after all, armed; all three of them.
Those guns that kept us safe could easily kill a human. It was my job to
make sure the guns kept pointing out, not in toward us. (Not literally, of
course, weÕd had our share of ÒIÕll kill you if you say another wordÓ gun-
pointing episodes.) But here we were, gazing down on a river that struck
me as being as big as the Mississippi, and I half-wondered if it might be
that old river, still flowing after so many years.
ÒLetÕs cross it,Ó I said. ÒWeÕll cut down a big tree and roll it down
the bluff. We can all climb onto it and float, and see where the river takes
us.Ó
ÒYes!Ó Becky cried. She fired her Magnum into the air.
ÒDonÕt waste bullets,Ó Kim said, as soon as the sound of BeckyÕs gun
had died away.
ÒStupid,Ó Jan added.
ÒNow girls, letÕs not fight,Ó I said. With mother-like disapproval I
looked at Becky and said, ÒTry to wait until weÕre attacked again. Then
you can let loose all you want.Ó
ÒÔKay,Ó Becky sighed. She pointed her Magnum at Cuddles and sat
back down in the grass. We were being attacked less; maybe word was
getting around that we were pretty good shots. God knows, in the first
weeks weÕd certainly had plenty of practise. It was a wonder we were
still standing here. I gazed off at the plain across which weÕd come.
Scraggly trees tried growing here and there, but mostly gave up. Were it
not for the manna and regular rainfall we might not have made it across
that sere landscape. Some big trees grew here, by the river. But what
would we use to cut them? Would we shoot a tree to get a nice log?
Perhaps we would find a log already fallen. I was contemplating the
possibilities, gazing back across the landscape weÕd crossed, when
suddenly I saw them. Six or seven figures, all coming fast. They couldnÕt
be vampires; it was daytime.
ÒWerewolves!Ó I suddenly shouted. I turned and looked down at the
river.
ÒOh no!Ó Jan said, turning, seeing what IÕd seen. Previously weÕd
only ever encountered one wolf at a time. Word must indeed have gotten
around about us; theyÕd decided to gang up on us at last.
ÒHurry!Ó Kim said. She rushed over to Becky and grabbed the girlÕs
arm and pulled her to her feet.
ÒCuddles!Ó Becky said, dropping both her gun and her teddy bear.
ÒIÕll get him!Ó I cried. I grabbed what Becky had dropped and hurried
down the bluff toward the river, Jan leading the way, Kim following close
behind with Becky. I couldnÕt tell if the wolves had seen us; they would
catch our scent, no doubt about it, and search the whole bank looking for
us once they knew we were here. And then I heard it, out on the plain, a
crack like thunder. But there were no clouds in the sky. I turned and
looked back. One of the wolves had slowed. He was aiming something; a
rifle I realized as I looked at him. ÒSweet Jesus!Ó I cried. The damn thing
had managed to arm himself. No wolf weÕd ever met had been armed. Even
the vampires were at best only occasionally armed; weÕd only met two.
Weapons were few and far between here in Strangeland, apparently. WeÕd
been extremely lucky to meet a well-armed Medium whoÕd so craved
knowledge about the past that she was willing to give three guns away.
ÒHurry!Ó I yelled. We hustled more quickly down the bluff. Time was
running out. Frantically I searched among the dry underbrush for a fallen
tree. Anything to push us out into the water and get us away from the
wolves. Perhaps a better strategy would have been to stay and fight; I
considered it as we rushed down to the river bank. What should we do? It
was a harried choice weÕd faced so often; six wolves! It was frightening.
Vampires were hard enough, but if you caught them the right way you
could blast through them. Shooting wolves was like trying to hit rabid
dogs. They were living things, tough and fast and ravenous. ÒWhat do you
want to do, girls? Stay and shoot it out or try to escape into the river?Ó
ÒThe river! The river!Ó the girls answered in unison. And so that
was the strategy we chose, there under the hot-blazing sky. And I never
noticed, until later that day, that the sun had grown a deeper shade of red.
30
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