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Andrew Roller Presents
GIRL PATROL
Chapter Nine
We got down to the bottom of the bluff. The girls were panting,
looking delicious in their FrederickÕs of Hollywood lingerie. KimÕs
breasts, like the rest of her body, were moist with her sweat. Her cones
jiggled sweetly. JanÕs seemingly competed with hers. Little BeckyÕs
puffies still waiting to grow big enough to be tempting. Her chest heaved
with boyish expansions and contractions.
I had no time to admire my three junior sweetheartsÕ naked tits.
Hearing the werewolfÕs gun going off again, I hastily zipped up our ammo
bag. Our guns would fire even if they were wet; weÕd been rained on
enough to find that out. But the ammo and matches were another problem.
And there was one worse problem; if we fled into the river, I couldnÕt
carry the bag.
ÒFind a log!Ó Kim told the girls. Meanwhile I rolled the ammo bag off
the weedy swamp and into the water. I followed it into the river, pushing
on it until it was completely submerged. It would be no use leaving the
bag on land, the werewolves would be sure to catch the scent of it. Our
only hope was that we could somehow survive their attack and come back
for our bag. I certainly didnÕt intend on just leaving the thing and arming
the wolves.
The girls came rolling an old log toward me. It looked like it had
been in the river before. It must have fallen in upstream and floated
down, then got caught down here, for it was very weathered, a driftwood
log.
ÒPut it in the water,Ó Kim ordered, and she and the three girls sent
the thing into the water. To our immense relief it floated; a second later
a bullet came screaming down into the water near it, making a splash.
ÒDamn! TheyÕre almost here!Ó Jan cried. She turned. She saw a wolf
and opened up with her Uzi. Wisely, she gave a short burst; we had no way
to reload now with our ammo bag somewhere under the riverÕs surface.
ÒCome on, Jan!Ó I yelled as Kim and Becky dove into the water. I
would have loved to play hero and hold the wolves off while the three girls
made their escape, but I had no gun. I grabbed JanÕs arm and pulled on it. I
wasnÕt about to leave her standing on the bank while I, a grown man, went
swimming off down the river. Such are the problems, I suppose, when
youÕre a nice pedophile. John Wayne probably would have ripped the Uzi
out of JanÕs hand, or insisted on carrying it himself all along, but I wasnÕt
about to do that. So I pulled on JanÕs arm again and, when she still
insisted on staying by the riverside, providing us with cover, I picked her
up, bodily.
ÒHey!Ó Jan cried.
ÒIÕm not leaving you!Ó I told her. I waded into the river. Jan babbled
something about giving us cover and I told her this wasnÕt Vietnam, or
whatever fantasy she had going on in her head at the moment, and she
wasnÕt a soldier. She was just a little girl and for once I was going to
actually treat her like one. ÒGrab the log! Grab the fucking log!Ó I told
Jan, as I got chest deep into the water. More bullets hit the river. Kim
and Becky had managed to grab onto the log and were floating away on it.
Jan and I had to get to it. I told Jan to reach out for it again as I lost my
footing on the river bottom. We swam for it, me making sure Jan stayed in
front of me. Finally she managed to catch the log and grab it. As soon as
she did she turned around and let loose with another blast of her Uzi.
ÒOwww!Ó I cried. The damn thing was loud and she was practically
shooting it next to my ear. I dipped briefly underwater. I came up on the
other side of the log, where Becky and Kim were positioned, half-hiding
behind the wood, as IÕd intended, as more bullets came splashing down
from the werewolves. ÒJan! Get on this side of the log!Ó I cried over the
top of the thing. She was still on the other side, her head fully exposed to
the werewolvesÕ fire. Kim got round Becky on our side. Then she helpfully
reached over the log and snagged JanÕs machine gun. Reluctantly Jan let
her have the Uzi, then began coming around, pulling herself with both free
hands on the broken end of the log. ÒGod, I hope they canÕt swim!Ó I said. I
looked over the top of the log. The werewolves were scrambling like fast
dogs down the bluff leading to the edge of the river. One of them paused
and fired at us again; for the first time, a bullet hit our log.
ÒYikes!Ó Jan cried. Tears came to BeckyÕs eyes; she was frightened,
her big eyes peering at me as she clutched onto our log. I told Kim to level
her shotgun on the top of the log and try firing, but she was already at it,
aiming with the gun.
ÒReach up and hold down the top of it so the recoil wouldnÕt blow it
out of my hand,Ó Kim ordered me, holding onto the log with her other hand.
I did as she asked, scared to death that a bullet from the werewolves
would hit my hand and render me a cripple. With my arm and hand exposed
on the top of the log, Kim tried bobbing in time with the up and down
movement of her gun. But it was no use; the wolves were still too far
away for her shotgun.
And then disaster struck. It might seem like we were already in a
bad situation, sitting ducks in the middle of the river, hunkering down
behind a piece of floating driftwood. But now one of the werewolves,
after showing just a tad of hesitancy along the waterÕs edge, went
splashing in. Although he proved to be an awkward swimmer, doing a kind
of nervous dog paddle, he came at us with strong strokes. Worse, he
proved an example to his fellows, who came jumping in after him. The
wolf with the gun stayed on shore, shooting over their heads at us. And
then, suddenly, the damn creature ran out of ammo. He looked at his rifle.
He seemed disgusted with it for not working. For a moment I thought it
had jammed but our guns never had; when I realized that the wolf had shot
his entire load and had nothing more to put in it I laughed. His claws
worked, always. His legs, his arms. He was not used to something ceasing
to work when it looked perfectly work-able. I prayed he wouldnÕt find our
ammo bag under the river. Then, suddenly, he hurled the gun at us, and
then dove in after his buddies to rely on what heÕd always relied on, his
powerful arms and legs.
ÒDumb fuck,Ó I said, but we were in serious trouble. The wolvesÕ
snouts plowed toward us through the water. They would catch us for sure;
we had no way of fending off six wolves in deep water like this. Or
shallow water, for that matter. Our whole plan had relied on the idea that
the werewolves couldnÕt, or wouldnÕt, swim. Now we were learning a new
fact about life in earthÕs farthest future: although hesitant, wolves, if
sufficiently angry, were willing to jump into water. And these wolves
were angry; weÕd successfully killed several of them, one at a time of
course, and now they wanted revenge. As I watched their snouts grow
closer, their claws plowing the water, I didnÕt know what to do. For a
moment I prayed that this was somehow all a nightmare, like all of us had
prayed so many times in our first daysÕ here, especially at night, before
we met the medium. WeÕd been very lucky in those first days. Despite
much weeping and crying weÕd happened to land somewhere that vampires
and werewolves didnÕt happen to be; by the time we started encountering
them we happened upon the medium and she proved to be very generous. Or
a very good payer for information about the past, however you wanted to
view the matter.
ÒShit! What are we going to do?Ó Kim screamed. I lifted my hand
back up to the top of the log and steadied her gun.
ÒFire at will,Ó I told her.
ÒThatÕs not going to hit all six of them!Ó Kim screamed at me.
ÒDonÕt shoot Ôtil you see the whites of their eyes,Ó I told her,
remembering some lesson from the American revolution, when our
soldiers had been vastly outnumbered and outgunned. Kim got my point;
she held her gun level at the water in front of us until a wolf got well
within range. Then, suddenly, with a roar, aiming carefully, she let him
have it. My hand on top of her shotgun kept it from flying out of her hand.
Kim hit the wolf straight on; his head was there one second and the next
there was an explosion of blood and bone. We didnÕt see him anymore. Five
to go.
But it was too late. Waiting for the one wolf to close within a
decent range of KimÕ shotgun had given the others time to come in all the
way. Suddenly they were upon us. One grabbed me. I had no gun and went
under immediately; a moment later I managed to surface, only to thrash
around with the beast. Kim was hit next; she went down, but not without
managing to get her shotgun round and blast the creature attacking her.
She hit him straight in the chest; he gaped at her as his lungs exploded.
Jan scrambled up on top of the log. Meanwhile Becky was the wisest
of us, or the most frightened. She ducked under the water, fishlike, before
any of the wolves could grab her. And then suddenly, swimming under the
riverÕs surface, a good foot or two down, she came up with the most
marvellous plan. She began firing at the various wolves. They werenÕt
hard to spot, even under the water. They were big hairy fuckers; my only
worry was that she might mistake me for one of the wolves, as I was
entangled with one and something of a big hairy fucker myself, though not
quite as hairy, especially on the top of my bald head!
Blam! Blam! The Magnum Becky was holding went, picking off the
wolves: first one, then another. As she had dropped under water on her
own initiative she was busily holding her breath, not gasping for breath
like I was. I admired her, such a little thing, swimming around down there
like some deadly little mermaid. And then she was up again, out of breath,
but we were down to only two wolves.
One kept yanking me under, only to have me come spluttering back up.
The fear of drowning seemed to be giving me extra strength, although
nowhere near that which the wolf had. And then suddenly our second
miracle kicked in. As a wolf grabbed for Jan, on top of the log, she
jumped. ItÕs what any person would do, I suppose. But the nature of her
jumping was such that suddenly she was paddling around in the air: we
were out of the dead zone!
ÒI can fly!Ó Jan cried, startled at this sudden development. She
aimed her Uzi, which fortunately was still partly loaded with ammunition.
And then she fired, hitting the wolf who was right under her, splitting his
head open with a spray of bullets.
Only I remained, the great adult hero, tangling with the a wolf who
was uninjured and too wrapped up with me for any of the girls to get a
good shot at him. Jan tried air-paddling over to us, but even she, hovering
close, couldnÕt find a way to hit the wolf without hitting me. Then she
thought she had a shot a fired; a spray of bullets hit the water, nearly
putting holes in my head. And then she was out of ammo. Kim tried aiming
her shotgun, but I saw and screamed at her not to use it. That thing, as
anyone whoÕs used a similar type back in our own time knows, is like a
mini cannon. There is no precision shooting with it and you definitely do
not want to be three feet in front of the damn thing when it goes off.
Little Becky tried swimming around down under us; I prayed she wouldnÕt
blow my dick off with her Magnum!
No, it was up to me, and I was rapidly running out of energy as the
wolf thrashed me under water again. I struggled; I tried kneeing him in
the stomach or groin (not for the first time), but he only took the blow and
kept on coming in at me, tearing at me with his claws. I had a gash on my
face, another on my chest, and on an arm and leg. Suddenly I remembered
how the wolves were hesitant to come in the water in the first place.
When next in our struggle I came up for air, I gulped in as much as I could.
Then I went under with him, yet again, and this time I intended to stay
down forever.
More or less, meaning I wasnÕt coming up for air so desperately
anymore. I had my lungful and I was just going to stay under. With my
ardent companion, of course. I watched his eyes as we fought. He hadnÕt
been bright enough to actually think about living under the water, being
under it, like little Becky the fish. He was all brawn and muscle. But I
was ironic, sarcastic, wicked if need be. Did he want me so badly? Fine,
he could have me. IÕd even hang on to him and pull him down with me.
WeÕd just stay under the water together, forever. It would become our
lovely tomb.
God, did he struggle in those final moments when he realized what I
was doing. He hadnÕt grabbed air intentionally like I had. He was just a
floundering, very powerful dog. I concentrated on holding him down, not
caring how much he gashed at me. In fact I hugged him, bodily. By keeping
him close to me I cut down on his slashing ability. Deeper we sank, and
gradually his struggles lessened. I wasnÕt coming up again until he was
dead, even if my lungs burst; this much IÕd vowed. At last he grew limp.
With my lungs screaming for air I stayed down just a little longer,
torturing myself, drawing myself close to death, but making sure my
companion was truly drowned. Then suddenly up I came, dashing for the
surface, and for a moment I was disoriented: where was it? Then I saw
it, gleaming dimly above me. When I made out the girlsÕ wiggling feet my
heart leaped for joy. Their boots that IÕd made for them were lost; but it
was no matter, their little feet drew me to safety. I burst from the river,
gasping.
ÒYouÕre alive!Ó the girls cried.
ÒYes,Ó I said, my lungs heaving. Kim swam over to me and hugged
me. Jan alighted down onto the top of the log and bent down and kissed
the top of my head as I drew myself up along the driftwood. Becky swam
up and kissed me too, but no sooner had we begun to relax than Becky let
out a scream.
ÒCuddles!Ó she cried. We looked at her and then looked around. The
river was moving swiftly now, we were out in the middle of it.
ÒOh my God,Ó I said. I had been the last to hold the bear, in fact, I
grabbed it when Becky dropped it. But now where was Cuddles? Becky
began crying profusely. WeÕd been through a lot; this was, for her, the
final straw.
ÒOh, I hate this place! I hate this place!Ó Becky shouted. The river
seemed not to care, flowing around us, pushing us along like the driftwood
we were clinging to.
ÒWeÕll... do something,Ó I tried to reassure her. But I had no idea
what. My head was still spinning from the wolf attack.
ÒI donÕt want to do something, I want Cuddles!Ó Becky insisted. ÒAnd
I want to go home!Ó
30
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