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From: sullivangm@aol.com (SULLIVANGM)
Subject: Eschaton Boulevard 2/2
Notice: This story has been rated "NC17" for adult language, nudity,
strong sexual content (lesbianism), mild violence, and explicit smoking.
If you find any of this objectionable, tough titties.
Copyright 1997 by G. M. Sullivan. All rights reserved. This story may be
copied and distributed for the uncompensated amusement of others only.
Author's note: This story takes place a few weeks after the events
described in "Hybrid Vigor" However, the tale stands on its own merits .
Dedication: For Jenny G., the brightest new light in the smoking world.
"Eschaton Boulevard"
Part Two: America's Most Wanted
6. Goodbye Heart
"Hold her still, dammit!"
"I'm tryin', doc, believe me, I'm tryin'!"
"That ECT was not a good idea! Nurse, do you have the IV started?"
"No, doctor, and I'm afraid the needle will break if I push any harder."
"If we don't get some fluid in her soon, she'll go into shock from
dehydration. Use a .53 beryllium-tipped needle."
"All right, doctor, I'll have veterinary supply send one up, stat."
"We may have to intubate..."
"Doctor, watch out!"
*********
Darlene woke suddenly in darkness as Mary Lou began to squirm in her
sleep. Mindful of the girl's unnatural strength, she released her hold on
Mary Lou's waist and backed quickly away. The younger girl's agitation
increased rapidly into near-convulsions. Her right foot shot out,
connecting with the metal wastebasket. The canister took off like a
rocket, flattening against the far wall and clattering to the floor.
Frightening her even more, Darlene saw Mary Lou's features twist and
change in the dim light, flowing like slow, molten plastic. Alternately
grotesque and beautiful, the shape of her mouth, nose, and eyes all seemed
to be in flux.
**********
The thick glass door bursts into a million coruscating fragments as she
hits it at a full run. Fresh air at last! From the building behind her
comes shouting, but she doesn't look back. She will never let them poke
her with needles again.
She runs across the parking lot, shreds of her hospital gown trailing
behind. People are staring, running away, but she pays no attention.
Ahead of her is a tall chain-link fence, separating the campus from NC
State Route 373. Foolishly, she decides to jump.
She lands on her heels in the middle of the westbound lanes. Behind her
she hears a squeal of brakes and feels a hard impact against her thighs.
Broken again, this time both of them. She rolls up the hood of the
slowing car, hitting the windshield, turning it into a flexible webwork of
cracks. She follows the broken glass onto the front seat in a heap.
The frightened driver opens his door and jumps out, unwilling to share his
ride with a corpse. But the corpse sits up and clutches the steering
wheel. She finds that by moving her right leg carefully, she can just
manage to work the petals.
The driver watches as his car speeds away westward, down the Boulevard.
**********
Darlene watched in silent agony as Mary Lou's convulsions increased in
intensity. What could she do? If she grabbed the girl, she might be
killed.
Darlene crossed the room and took one of the plastic water jugs.
Uncapping it, she moved quickly to the mattress and poured it in Mary
Lou's face.
Mary Lou sat up sputtering and shaking her head, her quivering muscles
gradually relaxing. Her features slowly stabilized into their familiar
shapes. "Oh, my. Oh, my. Why did they do that to me?" she said,
whimpering.
"I'm sorry..." said Darlene. "You were having a nightmare..."
"That's okay, sweetheart...and thanks." She was shivering with
aftershocks of distress. "I only wish that's all it was."
Darlene joined Mary Lou once more on the mattress, ignoring the dampness.
Tentatively, she put her arms around the young girl. Mary Lou buried her
head in Darlene's shoulder, her body shaking with dry sobs.
"If I could only tell you," said Mary Lou. "If I could only remember
myself. It's hard. And it keeps getting harder. Lot's of times I just
wish it would be over, that's all." Darlene said nothing, just holding
her close and stroking her curly, red hair.
They passed a long time in that manner. Slowly, Mary Lou's tremors
quieted. "I could sure use a cigarette, honey," she said at last.
Darlene found Mary Lou's pack of Pall Malls and took one for each of them
She handed one to Mary Lou, struck a match, and lit both smokes. Mary Lou
curled up against Darlene and they laid back on the mattress, smoking
together, letting the rich vapors encircle their faces.
Inhaling directly from the unfiltered cigarette was yet another new
experience for Darlene, but she found herself becoming used to it quickly.
Smoking, she decided, did indeed suit her. The implied intimacy of
sharing her smoke with Mary Lou was delightful. She would never think of
the habit in the same way again.
Darlene found she had to puff twice as long as Mary Lou to produce half as
big an exhale. Playfully, she tried to draw more and more smoke each
time, to see if just once she could outdo Mary Lou's billowing emissions.
Sensing the challenge, Mary Lou took an extra-long puff of her own and
exhaled such a large cloud that she almost disappeared from Darlene's
sight. Giggling, Mary Lou was still exhaling from that same puff five
breaths later.
Her mood much improved, Mary Lou smiled wickedly at Darlene. "You know,
honey, we're cheating..."
"How's that?" asked Darlene, her words accompanied by white wisps of
smoke. But she knew.
"We should only be smoking like this...after."
Darlene stubbed out her cigarette, blowing smoke against Mary Lou's bare
leg. "After...?" She gave Mary Lou an understanding smile.
With two quick finger-flicks from Mary Lou, Darlene's bra and panties were
just a memory. "You hold still, sweetie, and let mama show you how it's
done. No one can do it like mama."
Moving with deliberate slowness, Mary Lou gave Darlene a deep,
smoke-flavored kiss. Her hands moved like soft birds over Darlene's
breasts, tummy, and thighs. Immediately Darlene felt a response, a
quivering deep inside, and a moistness in her vagina. She returned Mary
Lou's kisses hungrily, wanting to share everything she had, give all that
she could to this stranger.
Mary Lou's lips, hands, and unblemished body moved like velvet-covered
iron over Darlene, making her every nerve-ending tingle, increasing her
arousal to an unbearable pitch, sweet as the high "C" of a violin. Before
long, she found her legs spreading of their own accord, opening herself to
receive Mary Lou's fingers and tongue into moist depths.
"Oh, Mary Lou..." said Darlene. "I....please...."
The first contact on her clitoris was electric, sending tremors of
pleasure throughout her body. If she had only been masturbating, she
would have been well-satisfied with this alone. But Mary Lou was just
beginning.
"This is where it feels really nice, " said Mary Lou. "Really nice, not
like needles at all...."
Darlene felt Mary Lou's tongue tease her most sensitive spot, circling
gently, provoking more and more sparkling shivers of pleasure. Mary Lou's
tongue gradually speeded up, infinitely sensitive to Darlene's responses,
faster and faster, growing warmer, reaching a flickering velocity
unattainable by the merely mortal.
"Oh...Oh..." Darlene's responses were reduced to incoherent murmurs. Her
body arched as if jolted with electricity, her vaginal discharges bathing
Mary Lou's face in moistness. Darlene's inarticulate cries rose with her
ecstasy as orgasm after orgasm swept through her, radiating outward from
her core to reach her every extremity. She wept with satisfaction.
Later, the two held each other tightly, Darlene's cheeks still wet with
tears. "Mary Lou...may I...could I..." she began.
"I wish, sugar, but it's not a good idea. That would be...how to say?
Very unsafe sex. When I get excited, I kick..."
"But I want you to feel like I do...I want to give you pleasure, too.
Couldn't you..."
"You have given me a world of pleasure already, darlin'. You don't have
to do anything more. There's not too many soft shoulders on this road.
Watch out for falling rocks."
"Please..."
"Well, okay, let me think, honey...I sure do like that idea. Maybe if
I..." Mary Lou gently disengaged herself from Darlene. She placed her
hands behind her head, locking her fingers together. Then she spread her
legs apart, hooking a foot under each side of the mattress. "Go slow,
sugar," she said, "And if I start to get jittery..."
"Oh, thank you, Mary Lou. I'll be careful." Tentatively at first but
with loving care, Darlene began to explore Mary Lou's spread-eagled body
with her hands, lips, and finally her tongue. Mary Lou moaned with
pleasure, giving Darlene soft encouragements. At first, Darlene flinched
each time the younger girl quivered, but her confidence gradually grew as
Mary Lou's pleasure increased without any calamitous result.
"Oh, honey, sweet, sweet, sugar...you are a baby doll, my girl of the
magic fingers, enchantments blessed...." Mary Lou's words trailed off in a
series of pleasant mumbles. Darlene stroked and kissed her lips, thighs,
breasts, hips, neglecting nothing, loving everything.
Finally, Darlene scooted down until her head was between Mary Lou's
thighs. She had never dreamed of doing anything like this, ever, but it
seemed right, it felt right. It was a dream come true in a guise she
would never have considered, or recognized, with anyone else.
She reached her hands in to spread Mary Lou's labia wide, looking for the
right spot. Hesitantly at first, unsure of her skills, she began to lick.
She laid a hand on Mary Lou's velvet thigh to feel for a response. As
she increased her attentions, enthusiasm growing, it was not long in
coming. Mary Lou's muscles quivered and she moaned aloud. Darlene could
feel pressure building beneath her as the mattress was squeezed tight by
the young girl's anchored, trembling feet. No longer frightened, she
continued anyway, letting her tongue flick lightly across Mary Lou's
clitoris. Maybe she was not so skillful or agile as Mary Lou, but Darlene
knew her performance was enhanced beyond measure by her loving regard for
the young girl.
"Oh my...oh Christ!" Mary Lou began to spasm furiously as a volcanic
series or orgasms swept away all her restraint, all her control.
Delighted, Darlene continued to lick and tease until she saw the mattress
begin to hump up and split down the middle. Then she leaped back just as
Mary Lou's thighs came together in a thunderclap, feathers erupting in a
billowing cloud from the split mattress. The young girl shrieked out her
pleasure. Darlene covered her ears.
The intact window's glass exploded into fragments.
Darlene grinned at Mary Lou. "Hah! Missed me!" she said.
7. Tough Love
The building-by-building search, even though aided by the finest in
heat-sensing equipment, was only half-completed when their break came.
"Bronsen," reported one of the agents, "we've picked up a missing persons
APB for a Darlene Preston. She matches the description we got from the
Fletcher boy."
Callaghan grimaced as he drove. He had told these hot-shots that he was
"Agent Callaghan" to them, not "Bronsen." A little commando training at
Fort Benning did not give them status equal to a Special Agent. He let it
pass this time, and picked up a microphone.
"Sheriff Kane, do you read?" he said. Kane was the local police chief,
and had already been told by Callaghan to keep his men out of the FBI's
way. That hadn't sat well with Kane...it never did with the locals. It
was certainly no easier now that a town resident was involved, and
Callaghan had to bear down hard. That was his specialty, though, and soon
he had Kane's reluctant agreement and the girl's home address.
It was a quick drive to the Preston house, as were all drives in this
lousy berg, and he motioned his men to stay behind as he went to the door.
Despite the late hour, all the lights were on. A worried-looking man
answered Callaghan's knock.
"Mr. Preston? I'm Special Agent Callaghan, FBI," he said, producing his
badge. "May I come in?"
Several friends of the family were over to lend support, and Callaghan
politely asked Carl Preston to invite them to go home. His orders in
these circumstances were clear, also; talk to as few civilians as
possible, and tell them as little as possible.
When he finally sat down with Darlene's parents, he gave them the standard
cover. He and his men were looking for a girl who went by the name of
Mary Lou. Despite her youth and innocent appearance, she was known to
have terrorist connections. Their daughter had been seen several hours
ago in the company of this girl. Now, there was no immediate cause for
alarm. Mary Lou often recruited her contemporaries, making it all sound
like a childish game. None of these recruits had ever come to harm.
However, he needed their help before Darlene became involved in something
serious. Could he count on their cooperation?
He could.
8. Complications
Sheriff Kane sat behind his desk, frowning. These FBI bastards were
really getting on his nerves. His four-officer staff had been out all
night, quelling fears, stopping rumors, and generally cleaning up the
messes this Callaghan left behind him. Whatever the hell was going on,
he'd be damned if he'd leave it to the feds. He was responsible to the
local voters, not to these assholes from Washington.
At last report, Callaghan was cruising the old section with the Preston
girl's father and his six heavily armed thugs in tow, calling over his
loudspeakers and waking the whole damned town out of a sound sleep. And
all this over some goddamned runaway child. It was like swatting flies
with an atom bomb. It was a sure thing someone would get hurt if matters
were left to Callaghan.
Making his decision, he ordered one cruiser to keep a quiet tail on
Callaghan's van and the other to stop by the station and pick him up.
9. Ambush
Still a good hour short of dawn, a cool breeze played through the two
shattered windows, the air eddying the smoke from the lovers' now
properly-timed cigarettes. They shared every puff with deep kisses,
letting their mingled breaths of smoke symbolize their shared pleasure.
As Darlene was putting out her cigarette, she was startled by an
electrically amplified voice booming through the window.
"Darlene! This is your father! If you can hear me, please come out! No
one wants to hurt you or your friend! Please, come out now and we can all
go home!"
This sudden intrusion by her old life came as a rude shock. She blushed
furiously, feeling she had been caught in multiple layers of naughtiness.
Her father! What would he think of her now?
Mary Lou was already up, pulling on her shredded sweatsuit, moving to her
enormous pack. She began rummaging inside it, her hands a flickering blur
of motion. Darlene hurriedly climbed into her skirt and blouse. Her
underwear was a lost cause.
Mary Lou spoke. "You'd better go, lover. It's me they want, and I don't
plan to be got. It's hard, I know, but where I'm going you can't follow.
Not yet."
Darlene was suddenly in tears. "Mary Lou, no! Come home with me! There
are people who can help..."
"The only help for me is to keep running, sugar." Mary Lou had finished
her rummaging. Shouldering the pack, she moved to Darlene's side. The
older girl barely noticed when Mary Lou shoved something into her skirt
pocket.
Mary Lou stood on tiptoe and gave Darlene a deep kiss. "You go on down
and stall them for me, honey. I'll take the high road." Mary Lou moved
to the window and looked back at Darlene, her eyes preternaturally bright.
"I'll always remember you, sugar. Maybe we'll find each other again
someday, somewhere." Then she was gone, out the window and up.
Darlene stood still for a moment, devastated by her sudden solitude. Then
she began moving. The least she could do was help Mary Lou escape.
Outside, she heard her father's message repeat, sounding closer than
before. She left the apartment through the door.
On the street below, the van was pulling even with the alley leading to
the abandoned building. Carl Preston, riding shotgun next to Callaghan,
was beginning his weary chant once more when he saw his daughter emerge
from the dark alley.
"Stop! There she is!" He tugged at Callaghan's arm. Callaghan stomped
on the brake, bringing the van to an abrupt halt, and he and Preston piled
out. The rear doors also opened, releasing the six Nomex-clad agents,
rifles in hand and night-vision goggles in place.
Preston ran to Darlene and grabbed her in a hug. He was taken aback when
his daughter, red-eyed and obviously angry, pushed him away and ran toward
the van.
There was a brief squeal from an electronic siren as the Sheriff's cruiser
pulled up nearby. Sheriff Kane emerged, carrying a sharpshooter's
Winchester .30-06 rifle.
Callaghan, desperately scanning the area for some sign of BETA, cursed at
this interruption and trotted toward the sheriff, ignoring Darlene and her
father. As he moved he called to his men, "Load RDX ammo, that's romeo
delta x-ray rounds!"
The black-clad agents glanced at each other, but hastily switched the
Placidyl darts for the improved models.
Reaching Kane, Callaghan began, "sheriff, I told you this matter is under
federal..."
"I have target BETA acquired, repeat I have target acquired, range 400,
height 35, left 20!" This came from Jackson, one of Callaghan's team.
"Fuck!" Callaghan swore. Their rifles were hopelessly inaccurate past 250
yards. "Close and fire!" The team started to trot down the street in a
tight skirmish line. Darlene, her father, and the sheriff followed.
As he trotted, Kane looked up to where Jackson had pointed. There was the
girl, climbing quickly down the corner of a building like a squirrel,
clearly outlined in a streetlight. Not smart, he thought. She should
have stayed in the shadows.
Kane had not been informed about the tranquilizer guns or the "capture
unharmed" order. No one thought he needed to know that.
In the calm of later reflection, Kane would regret his next actions. For
now, he would have to decide quickly despite the myriad factors to
consider. He didn't buy the story of a 14-year-old female terrorist for a
minute. Why all this firepower to stop a little child? Still, the sight
of her climbing down that wall like nothing human was eerie. And the last
thing he needed was a federal obstruction charge.
Kane stopped while the FBI team continued to move down the street, the
Preston girl and her father right behind. He didn't need to be any
closer. He was a two-time Wyoming state champion marksman and was
carrying a longer-ranged weapon than the agents. He brought the rifle to
his shoulder estimating the drop and wind shift. He would try for a leg
shot and hope the fall didn't kill her. He aimed and fired.
Kane cursed as he saw the girl's head snap back. He'd misjudged the drop.
She let go of the brick wall and fell 40 feet to the pavement, where she
lay like a pile of discarded rags. Shit, he thought. Head shot. That's
all she wrote.
The FBI team stopped short at the unexpected shot. Darlene ran up to
Callaghan's side and got a look at Mary Lou's body, now just 100 yards
down the street. She gave a wail of anguish and grief.
Callaghan barked at his men. "Fire, dammit! This end here!"
Darlene was stunned. It wasn't enough to kill her? They had to blast her
poor body to bits? This was beyond endurance.
The agents tightened their line and raised their rifles, slowed by obvious
reluctance to obey, while Callaghan continued to curse at them. He paid
no attention to Darlene, and so was taken completely by surprise when she
hit him low in a tackle that would have done Biff proud.
Fueled by rage and grief, Darlene had found a reserve of unexpected
strength. Callaghan toppled into the firing line, starting a domino
effect that left men and rifles scattered across the pavement.
Darlene didn't notice, but none of the agents made an heroic effort to
keep his feet and shoot.
Sputtering and almost apoplectic, Callaghan rose and grabbed Darlene
roughly, shaking her without mercy. "You fucking bitch, that's
obstruction of justice, and just because you're a little twat..."
Sheriff Kane appeared at the agent's side. "That's enough, Callaghan.
Take your hands off her. And I'm giving official notice that the next
asshole who fires a shot is under arrest."
"You fucking morons!" Darlene screamed. "She's dead! What more do you
want?" She pointed down the street. "She's..." finally looking in the
direction she was pointing, Darlene saw that the bundle of rags was gone.
The street was empty. No movement. No Mary Lou. Nothing.
"Nice shooting, sheriff," said Agent Jackson, grinning. "Head shot at
350. She was down about 25 seconds that time. It's a record, I think."
"Shut up, Jackson!" said Callaghan. But the agent was right. Once again,
this bird had flown.
"Load up the goddamned van," he said. We're moving out." In no evident
hurry, the agents wearily retrieved their gear and started back up the
street. Someone muttered about the likelihood of finding BETA in the
wilderness, in darkness.
Callaghan hung back and motioned to Carl Preston. When Preston meekly
approached, the agent handed him a business card.
"Maybe I can't arrest your brat for obstruction, but I sure as hell can
arrest you. You listen, and listen good! If you hear so much as a rumor
of a rumor about Mary Lou, you call me immediately. And keep an eye on
that little twat. If I ever find out you've held anything back, anything
at all, I'm calling in my IOU. Understood?"
"Y-yes, sir, I understand..." said Preston.
"Good. Now get the hell out of my sight." Callaghan returned to the van,
which was soon speeding out of Baxter, westward.
Preston walked up to his daughter who was standing next to an
ashamed-looking Sheriff Kane.
Giving her the angry expression he dared not show Callaghan, Preston said,
"You're coming home right now, young lady! How could you run off with
that terrorist? And you stink of smoke! Your mother and I have been..."
"Shut up, daddy," said Darlene.
10. Another Stroller on the Boulevard
Angry words in the living room. How could she do this to her loving
family? Everyone in the neighborhood had been frantic with worry. Biff's
parents had called, upset that she had humiliated him in front of his
friends. Her, wanted by the FBI for god's sake! Certainly they had given
her too many privileges. Treated her like an adult when she was still a
child. Trusted her and seen that trust betrayed. Well, things would be
different now. She was not permitted to smoke. She was grounded for
life. Perhaps a good boarding school would straighten her out.
Where are you going, young lady? This discussion is not finished. Come
back here this minute! Darlene Marie Preston, you come...
Darlene slammed the door to her room and locked it. She could not take
this any more. Her body ranged with emotions; anger, guilt, frustration,
love, sadness, grief, insupportable loss. She hoped Mary Lou was still
alive, and had not crawled off to die alone somewhere in the dark.
She reached into her soiled skirt pocket, hoping to find her pack of
Marlboros. They were long gone, lost. There was something else in there,
though. A plastic bag. She drew it out.
In the baggie was a stained envelope, folded over, bearing a hastily
scrawled message. Heart racing, she tore the bag open and pulled it out.
"Dear Darleen,
I lov you. Im sorry I cant stay, but I hav promises to keep and
miles to go afore I sleep. Im
goin to miss you shugar. I wont be back to this town.
Im leavin you 3 of my special honeys. Smoke em if you want and you
maybe can join me on
the Blvd. Its a lonely road but you meet som nice people sometimes
like you. We are only 2
now but we coud sure use more.
If you do smoke em you may feel sick and go to the bathroom a lot.
Just keep to yourself until
you are better it wont take long. Dont tell anyone or theyll stick
you with needles and that hurts
a lot.
Think of me. Ill think of you. I lov you.
Mar Lou"
Darlene's tears fell silently, blurring the blue ink.
Also in the baggie were two pieces of stiff cardboard, secured with a
rubber band. Between were three cigarettes. These were not Pall Malls or
Marlboros, but a different brand she didn't recognize. They looked fairly
ordinary; all-white filtered 100s. These must, though, be the "special
honeys" Mary Lou had referred to. At the thought of her name. Darlene's
tears started afresh.
Rage slowly rose to dominate the storm of emotions churning inside her.
Fuck the FBI, fuck the sheriff, and fuck her parents with their lectures
and rules! This would be her last shared rite with Mary Lou, even though
completed alone. She found some matches and took one the cigarettes.
Laying back on her bed, she lit it.
The first puff told her that this was indeed a different kind of
cigarette. Though filtered, it drew as easily as the Pall Malls. The
smoke had a sweet taste under its basic bitterness, and as she held it
deep in her lungs she felt a pleasant tingling start in her chest and
spread outward to every limb. The aches and pains from her earlier rough
handling faded away, and she found herself reliving the pleasures of Mary
Lou's sweet lovemaking.
She slowly blew out a thick pillar of smoke, letting it swirl around her,
reinhaling as much as she could. Her free hand reached under her skirt.
She took another deep puff, and another, veiling her bed in smoke, each
inhale increasing the exquisite pleasure.
A sharp rapping came at the door. "Darlene! Are you smoking in there?"
It was her father's angry voice. "Darlene!"
"Shut up, daddy," she said quietly, her words wrapped in sweet smoke.
Now we are three. Soon we will be many more.
The End
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