Driving on paved roads was considerably easier and that skill was the one most quickly attained. By the third day on the road, Adrian had become a passenger, a nearly silent passenger. He rarely had to tell the girls what to do, mostly he observed and only occasionally made a quiet recommendation.
The next morning Race pulled the immediate evacuation drill and timed the girls at ninety seconds. This was a simple exercise. Each girl went to sleep each night with everything already packed on the truck except for their bedrolls and weapons. When awakened by the evacuate signal, three short quiet whistles, they picked up their bedrolls and weapons and piled into the back of the truck. Each girl had an assigned spot in the truck, with the perimeter girls maintaining weapons ready.
Race gave the girls a thumb’s up and told them to dismount and prepare breakfast. The cooking utensils were kept on the truck except when in actual use. As soon as the meals were prepared and eaten the dishes and pans were cleaned and returned to the truck. The girls could get into the truck and be ready to roll usually long before the truck could be fired up and ready to roll. For this reason the night watch kept the wood gas generator burning on low all night in case they needed to make an emergency exit from the area. Adrian was teaching the girls to be alert, aware of their surroundings, and ready to act or react on an instant’s notice. Independence comes with a price; constant vigilance, to paraphrase a quote of our founding fathers.
After the drill and then breakfast the girls got back on the road. Adrian sat in the passenger seat and watched while the driving team handled the truck. Race was in the back, observing the road ahead over the top of the cab through an opening made by untying a portion of the canvas roof. She had created a simple set of instructions based on her hitting the top of the cab. They were stop, go, pull over right, pull over left, and full speed.
At mid-morning, they were cruising south on Texas Highway Seventy-Seven, at twenty-five-miles per hour. As they crested a hill they saw four men, armed with rifles, standing beside the road up ahead. The men had obviously heard the truck coming and were waiting to see what it was. As the truck came closer the men moved into the traffic lane, waving their arms for the truck to stop.
Race shouted a warning to the girls in the back, and hit the top of the cab, giving the “full speed” signal. The girl driving pushed the accelerator to the floor. The truck, lumbering downhill, began to pick up speed. This type of truck wasn’t known for being fast, and the less-effective wood gas fuel slowed it down even more. Thirty-five was top speed, on level ground. Going downhill it could get up to seventy-miles per hour, but going up a steep hill the truck could slow to as little as ten miles per hour.
The truck sped up as it approached the men and they leapt out of the way at the last moment, two going to each side. As soon as the truck was alongside the men, they opened fire at the tires, scoring several hits. The truck, its tires filled with no-flat foam, kept moving unhindered, but the girls returned fire and the four men were shot down in seconds. Race gave the signal to keep going. She waited until they had gone half a mile, then hit the roof again, giving the signal to “pull over left” into the brush.
When the truck was hidden from the road, Race gave the driver the “stop” signal. Immediately the girls exited the truck as they had been trained, spreading out, creating a secure position. Race then signaled to three of the older girls and left camp to scout where the men had fallen.
Chapter 10
Adrian waited patiently in camp. At no point, from the moment he had gotten into the truck that morning until after the shooting had stopped, had he given any orders or been asked for any advice. The girls were operating independently of him, and so far had done everything well. I can leave them with a clear conscience. They don’t need me at all. Clearly they can take care of themselves.
Two hours later the scout patrol came back carrying four extra weapons. Race checked the camp over to make sure everyone was performing their duties, then called a general meeting.
“We found their house—an old farm house a hundred yards off the road. It looks like they’d been there for a month, not much more. My guess is that they were roving around stealing, maybe killing. They didn’t have much in the way of food or gear, a real hand-to-mouth bunch. Didn’t look like they did any hunting either, lazy. Didn’t find any other threats in the area. We pulled their bodies out of sight of the road, took their rifles and ammo. That’s all they had worth bringing back. Fairly decent rifles, good trade items. We’ll eat a quick lunch then hit the road. Cooks, get the food out.”
Race set down next to Adrian.
“I kind of expected to see some of the girls break down and cry after killing people,” said Adrian. “Instead they all look as happy as kids on a playground. I’m not sure what to think about that.”
“We’ve had a rough life Adrian,” Race said with a shrug. “We were used to believing that we were helpless and we don’t much like men after the way we’ve been treated. Thanks to you and your training, we are getting used to the idea that we aren’t helpless. It’s a better feeling than I can describe, and we actually proved to ourselves today that we aren’t helpless now. The response you’re seeing isn’t about killing those men, it’s about fully realizing and understanding we are independent, a true sense of being able to cope. No one’s not exactly happy about killing, but we don’t regret it either; we’re happy about being able to do what we have to when we have to.”
Adrian asked, “So they don’t feel any remorse?”
“No, and they shouldn’t. We were minding our own business, not harming anyone in any way when those men opened fire on us. Those men shot at us, we defended ourselves. Simple as that, and we were completely in the right. No bad feelings on our side for what those stupid men got themselves into. We didn’t ask them to shoot at us, we didn’t ask them to attempt to interfere with our liberty. Can you imagine what would have happened if we’d been unarmed and untrained and stopped the truck? Nothing pretty about that, is there? We got it right, and we were in the right. No need to feel bad about anything.”
Adrian responded, “Just checking. Looks like the training is over. You’ll need to continue drilling and exercises, that’s the way to stay sharp and focused. Every army throughout history has done the same. But my work is done. I know I can move on now, leaving you girls to take care of yourselves, as you have so clearly demonstrated.”
Race, with an unusual look of apprehension for her, asked “When?”
“Well, I could go today, but if you’re still going to Corpus Christi, then I’d like to hitch a ride that far.”
Race said, “Of course you can ride along. We’re going to have to settle some place, and once we see Corpus we might decide that it’s a good place. Or we might not; won’t know ’til we get there.” She rubbed her hands together, looked at the girls bustling around camp. “I’m going to have to prepare the girls that you’ll be leaving us soon. They’ve known it of course, but the reality of it hasn’t sunk in. I don’t want to spring that on them at the last minute.”
Adrian asked, “Why’s that?”
Race looked at Adrian for a long moment, then shook her head. “You just don’t have a clue, do you?” She got up and stalked off.
Adrian watched her go. Did I just make her mad?
On the fifth day of travel they came to the small town of Woodsboro, Texas. It was one of several towns they had to drive through because there was no alternate route around them. Driving a truck had several positive benefits, but it also had some negatives—not being able to skip around small towns was a definite negative. The girls were on full alert as they moved through the town as quickly as they could.
In the center of town Adrian spotted a handmade sign that said “Trading Post” over the doors of what had been a local store.
“Pull the truck up in front of that trading post.” Adrian told the d
river.
She looked at Adrian as though she might not be supposed to taking his orders, but shrugged and complied.
Race was out of the truck before Adrian. She looked furious. “Why did you stop? This isn’t a secure location!”
“It’s okay Race,” Adrian said, smiling at her consternation. “The girls are set to go off like a bomb; and frankly, I am more concerned for the safety of this town’s citizens than I am for the girls’ safety. Go ahead and keep them on alert, but tell them to put their weapons on safe, and keep their fingers off the triggers. I want to see what kind of trade we might be able to do here.”
As Adrian finished talking, a man came out of the store; he was unarmed and appeared to be friendly. “Howdy folks! Always a pleasure to meet people traveling through. You all headed for Corpus, I expect.”
“How do you know where we’re going?” Race asked suspiciously
The storekeeper replied, “Just guessing. There’s not much else down this highway, so it kind of figures, you know? You all in a trading mood? I’ve got some pretty good stuff. Oh, by the way, you’re being covered from several places by some really good shots. No offense, but we don’t trust just anyone that comes down the road.”
Adrian smiled and nodded, “I expected we were, and I expect we will be inside the store, too. That’s okay, that’s what I would do too. But, just so you know, we’re well-heeled ourselves, if anyone around here gets to feeling froggy. I won’t go into details, but I can assure you this is one hornet’s nest you don’t want to kick over.”
The storekeeper smiled back, “Now that’s alright son, that’s alright. It’s just good policy on both our parts, eh? Come on in and see what we got. Might find something you can’t live without.”
Adrian went through the door first. Race waited outside a full ten seconds before she entered. If Adrian has spotted a trap, or didn’t like the looks of what he saw, he would have warned her off. Since he didn’t she entered.
The inside of the store was set up with warehouse racks. They didn’t look natural in the setting, but they were full of stuff. This trading post had a lot of valuable items, items that any raiders would love to have. After looking around for a couple of minutes Race understood that there was a lot here to protect. The storekeeper’s assurance that he was protected seemed more realistic once she understood what a rich target this place would be.
The storekeeper asked Adrian, “Is there anything in particular you’re short of? I’ve got something of just about everything.”
Adrian shook his head no in reply.
The storekeeper said, “Well just look around to your heart’s content. If you see anything you like, make me an offer and we’ll see how it goes.”
Race spotted coffee. She had never had any herself, but she had heard Adrian once mention how he missed it in the morning. “I’ve got some canned goods that I’d trade for a tin of coffee.”
Adrian looked at her in surprise. He knew she would only be getting it for him, and he was touched. “Race, that’s a nice thought, but pretty wasteful. You’d trade calories for my pleasure and I can’t have that.”
“I didn’t ask you, Adrian,” Race replied, then quickly continued. “I’m sorry if that was rude; it wasn’t meant to be. It’s just that you’ve done so much for us, and we’ve done nothing in return. I’d like to at least have the pleasure of seeing you enjoy a morning cup of coffee. Please don’t interfere, this is my doing.”
Race turned back to the storekeeper who had remained silent during this exchange, and raised her eyebrows.
He said, “I’ll trade anything I have for anything I think is a good deal for me. Canned goods are always welcome, but for coffee they have to be special canned goods. What do you have worth mentioning?”
“I’ve got something very rare; rare as your coffee,” Race said. “Something that people loved even before the gird went down, and love even more now. I have Spam.”
The storekeeper’s face immediately showed a sharp interest. “Spam? Oh my, Spam is certainly an interesting commodity. I’ll trade coffee for Spam, but not at a one-to-one ratio. Spam is good, no getting around that, but not as good as coffee. I’d trade this two pound can of coffee for, say, ten cans of spam.”
Race replied, “Mister I got off that truck, I didn’t fall off of it. I’ll trade you two cans of spam for two pounds of coffee.”
The storekeeper laughed, “Well Miss, I guess you didn’t fall off that truck. But that don’t mean I’m going to fall on my head either.” With a smile he continued, “Why don’t we sit down over there and have a cold soda pop while we deliberate. I’m in no particular hurry if you aren’t.”
They sat down and returned to haggling. Adrian looked over the contents of the shop, then asked Race to step outside with him for a minute. When she complied he mentioned some other items they could use and what he thought they had to trade that would be of interest. He left it up to her to decide if she wanted the items and how much she would trade away for them.
The girls had been allowed to get out of the truck and move around a little. They had naturally taken up a defensive posture. The storekeeper had noticed this and asked Race about it. Race gave him the cover story they’d all agreed on: they had been in an orphanage for girls that had caught on fire and killed the two grownups that ran the institute; Adrian had come along the next day, taken pity on the girls, and decided to help them relocate.
Two hours later Race and the storekeeper were shaking hands on a combination deal for several items, including the coffee.
“She called you Adrian and you have those scars,” said the storekeeper. “I’m guessing that you’re Adrian Hunter? Better known as General Bear? Am I right? We hear stories about you all the time on my ham radio.”
Adrian acknowledged his identity, and listened patiently to the storekeeper’s recounting of the stories he had heard, answering questions for minutes that seemed to him like hours before Race interrupted.
“You have a ham radio here? Do you have a transmitter?”
The storekeeper said, “Sure thing, Miss. It’s in the back if you’d like to see it.”
Race said, “Maybe in a minute. Can I see you outside Adrian?” Adrian, curious about Race’s intentions, and more than happy to escape the store keeper, went outside with her.
“Adrian” She said, “Everyone near a ham radio knows that you’re more or less engaged to be married to Colonel Linda Fremont. This trader will broadcast the news that you’re traveling with sixteen girls before our tail lights are out of sight. It’s big news, he’s the first to have it, and he’ll jump all over it. When Colonel Fremont hears it over the radio, it won’t matter what the details are, she’s going to be angry and hurt. There’s only one thing you can do– you get on this man’s radio and you call Colonel Fremont and you tell her yourself that you’re taking sixteen orphan girls that you couldn’t abandon on to Corpus Christi with you.”
“Why will it help to hear it from me?” Adrian asked.
“Jesus, Adrian, you really don’t have a clue do you? You can be so smart about so many things, too. It’s a damn shame you can’t see the obvious—but trust me, I have your back on this. Get on his radio, call her and talk about your trip, and mention us girls. Don’t make a big production of mentioning it and don’t go into any more detail than she asks you about. Play it cool, like this happens every day to every man on earth. She’ll love you for telling her. She’ll hate it if she finds out from anyone but you. But do it now. If you don’t tell her in the next five minutes, she’ll hear about it by tomorrow morning from someone who will get pleasure out of being the first to pass on the juicy gossip. And you need to tell her the girls are calling themselves Adrian’s Angels.”
“Do you really call yourselves that?”
“Not before now, no. But this is important. If we don’t name
ourselves, the rest of the world will make up a name for us and it might not be a good one. I can think of several names we don’t want to be called that could become common.”
“What difference does it make? Who cares what they call you?”
“Oh, Adrian, you can be so dense! It makes all the difference in the world. You wouldn’t want folks calling us Hunter’s Whores would you? Or Hunter’s Harem? Or Adrian’s Amazons? It’s important to us, and if we don’t name ourselves, someone else will and we’ll have no control over what they come up with. Tell her how well-trained and deadly we are, too, how quickly and thoroughly we killed those men that attacked us…that kind of reputation might help us out some day. Go. Call her. Now.”
Adrian made the radio connection to Fort Brazos and Linda was quickly summoned to the radio. He told her about his trip, including a very brief account of finding of the girls—Adrian’s Angels—and how he came to be their temporary guardian. She told him of the local news back home. They professed their continuing love, and all-too-soon the conversation was over—and heard by a thousand ham operators all over the world who eagerly passed the news on to everyone around them.
Later, while they were getting the camp settled for the night Race said, “I don’t know how to explain it to you, Adrian—either you already understand or you’ll probably never understand, so stop asking me. The best I can explain it is this: she’ll want to say ‘I know’ to anyone that comes up to her to tell her about you and all those girls. There’s satisfaction in her hearing about it from you directly. Just trust me on this and always remember it. Tell her any news first, always, and you’re likely to be able to stay together a little longer than otherwise.”
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