Time seemed to freeze for the two young women. They had heard that from the soldiers they had run into. But everyone seemed to hesitate—to admit it was true.
“They seem to really like the darker skinned Cubans. I look like I have a permanent tan, so if I stay in the subdued lights here, I look like most other people.”
He stared intently at Sharon and Susanne. “Miami is being overrun. Everything within about twenty miles of the ocean seems to have been targeted. Spacecraft, wheeled robots, some tall walking armored…fighters and those damned creatures are sinking all of our ships, are hitting our military bases, our major communication centers and roads. Not to mention they have some culeros working for them, traitors to the human race.” He paused, then continued.
“Washington D.C. and the President is no more.”
The three humans sat quietly, as they contemplated the apparent New World Order.
Hernando broke the silence.
“Well, ladies, we do what me must to survive, maybe prosper. So. A toast to a new business agreement. Maybe a bit of a partnership, as I think you two have the guts and the smarts to help me survive. So, a toast, ladies?”
Sharon and Susanne both displayed a small smile before knocking back the rum. Their eyes widened a bit as they realized it was 151 Plus Rum, probably from some smuggled Cuban stash.
“Man, that’ll put hair on your chest,” exclaimed Sharon.
“I hope not,’ said Hernando. ‘It will destroy the effect of Los Dos.”
Susanne frowned a bit. “Los Dos?”
“Sure. Every good act needs a catchy name. Los Dos—The Pair, or The Two. You’re definitely two parts of a very special whole. So, does it work?”
Sharon looked at Susanne, then shrugged. “Okay—why not? Mind if I ask a few detail questions?”
“Go ahead.”
“Living arrangements. Where do we sleep?”
“We can put you up at a local motel we have ‘occupied’, I guess you’d call it. I’ve got a small team of good ole boy regulars trying to fix up the place, find a generator or two for power.”
“Well, Hernando, think these good ole boys could help us tow an RV with a busted radiator we abandoned about three miles back?”
“So that’s how you two were traveling. I didn’t think you had walked all the way here from…wherever. Good shape other than the radiator?”
“We think so. Stopped after it started to boil over, so I don’t think we warped anything. May need the septic tank pumped. Everything else works when it has gas.”
Hernando paused for a minute, thinking. “Yeah. That might be the start of a good idea. Find some more decent RVs, park them out back, and hook them up to our generators. Yes, we have more than one. Safety in numbers for everyone who is connected to this place. Then we can scavenge from here.”
“Scavenge?” Susanne asked. “You act like business owners, residents of the area won’t be back. Ever.”
“Pretty lady, I’ve already had my guys clean out a couple of convenience stores that were abandoned, left wide open. Or the owners and managers were taken against their will. Either way, Big Jake’s reefer truck out back is now chock full of perishables. That’s one reason why he is still here. I give him a purpose, other than thinking about his family back in Texas.”
“I take it’s bad all over.”
“You hit it on the head. Now, we’ll get you two set up. Find some clothes for you to wear on and off the stage, okay? And we’ll figure out some type of currency besides room and board for you, if this works out the way it should. If you are committed, that is.”
“Hell, yes,” said Sharon. “Until we find a way to get back home to Pensacola, we plan to stay here as long as it’s safe. Right, Susanne?”
“That’s right.”
Hernando clapped his hands together and grinned.
“One more question…Boss.”
“Shoot, Sharon. But not with that snubby pistol you have hidden.”
“How’d you know?”
“Years of dealing with the wrong people. Now, what’s the question.”
“You were a competitive bodybuilder, weren’t you?”
“Yes. And was just beginning to dabble into MMA, though I didn’t want to mess up my good looks. Now, one question for you two. Gay or straight?”
“Straight,” they both answered in unison, then laughed.
“Does it matter?” asked Susanne.
“Just helps prevent any misunderstandings. We are getting a tight knit group here.”
“And you?”
“Straight. But no, I do not fish around in the office pool. That leads to problems, as the late owner found out more than once. Now, vamonos. Time to get this show on the road.”
Things went fast after that. Sharon and Susanne scrounged up some “costumes” for their stage acts. If they were going to perform – it would be an organized act, not just them showing off naked booty.
They started out literally playing volleyball on stage, knocking a ball they had located over an abbreviated net. Surprise, surprise, to the appreciation of the audience, their bikinis magically disappeared off their lotion rubbed bodies. Their toned and tanned bodies with nice sized curves made more than one man and woman drool as they bounced balls off their behinds, twisted and turned, did the splits on the stage.
They had one bit of trouble the second night, when a very drunk transient male jumped on stage with his fly zipped down and his hand trying to pull out a very important part of his anatomy. A perfect front snap kick from Susanne to his face sent him toppling off the stage into the arms of his friends, which kept him from a broken skull. After that, everyone kept their distance. Hernando and John never had to get involved, the regular patrons adopting Los Dos as their special ladies. The fact the large hole from Hernando’s one and only use of the 500 Smith and Wesson Hand Cannon had a bull’s-eye drawn around it on the wall helped people remember their manners also. Toys in the Attic became a neutral zone, a place where anyone could meet, iron out differences, swap items for survival—while having a cold drink. Hernando obtained more firearms and a small security force, in case any Squids and company showed up. They never did. Neither did any authorities or military. Everyone was on their own.
Thirty-one days from when the first rocks hit, the word was broadcast that all organized governmental resistance was at an end. Fleeing to the interior and Midwest states was suggested, as the aliens no longer bothered those areas, once the military was taken out.
Sharon and Susanne had worked on new acts by then. They dressed as schoolgirls, pigtails and all, then started acting nasty, a fetish fantasy to many. Next, as an extension of their pure athleticism, they began some choreographed “catfights”, nude wrestling that seemed to float everyone’s boat. References and hints to lesbian action drew in other clientele. It did not matter to Los Dos. It was an act, a performance, pure and simple. They even added basic plotlines of jilted lovers, historical situations, fight over sexual partners, or fights over possessions. Those were performances, meant to entertain, and to provide Los Dos with a living until things got back to some kind of normal. At least that was the fantasy many were living, not just Sharon and Susanne.
A couple of days after the “we quit” broadcast, Sharon and Susanne returned to their dressing room in the RV. Both were sweaty, nude, and holding torn and shredded underwear. Their bodies even sported a few scratch marks, because they had gotten a little carried away with the action.
They entered the RV, grinning like Cheshire cats as they grabbed ice cold bottles of water and sat down together on the RV’s sofa.
“Damn, Susanne. We are running out of those full school girl panties. You keep tearing them up.”
“And you don’t? We’ll ask Hernando to take us a little closer to Jacksonville, see if can find some local stores that haven’t been picked over. Maybe we can find some women’s fashion stores that were shuttered up when people fled.”
“Yeah. Except the closer we get to
Jacksonville and the water inlets, the Bay—the greater chances are someone getting snatched by the Squids. And somebody mentioned something about a Church of Kraken.”
“I know. But if we’re very careful…” Susanne stopped in mid comment, the smile gone away.
“Sharon, is this the right thing? Do we still have some basic moral standards? Or are we just whores, selling our bodies for gold?”
Sharon frowned a bit. “Why, is this bothering you? Because we are definitely not whores. We are selling fantasy, not our sex. We don’t let people touch us…”
“But we are showing everything. Some of our regulars could become gynecology assistants, because they have seen so many close ups.” A side effect of this was the appearance of other “talent”, copying some of the things Los Dos were doing. Of course none were as good as the originals.
Sharon took her best friend’s hand in hers. “Hey, I know this is not what we would have chosen, but we are free, healthy, with food, drink and shelter. Hernando even has a doctor on staff. Hundreds of thousands of people out there don’t have all that, are now on the run to the midwest. I say we still have a form of good moral standards. We don’t hurt anybody, don’t allow anyone to be hurt in our presence—unless they try to hurt someone else.”
Susanne was looking down and away from her friend.
“Hey, Suze, there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”
Both women were silent for a few moments, then Susanne finally spoke.
“I’m beginning to enjoy this too much. You and I, rolling around in front of a bunch of strangers…like tonight. I am getting excited every time we do this.” She looked up, her eyes now a bit moist.
“Sex and passion are supposed to be private, not for show. They are supposed to be reserved for your lover.”
Sharon, a concerned look on her face, gently touched her partner’s cheek.
“Hey, I don’t want you to hurt. You tell me what you want. I admit it, I get all hot and bothered too. But hell, that’s better than getting pissed off every night. Or getting abused every night.”
Susanne looked intently into the Sharon’s blue eyes, a trait they both shared.
“You’re feeling it too?”
“Yes, I am.”
Something clicked in a way that had not happened before. The two women stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments. Susanne leaned forward and kissed Sharon on the lips.
It started slowly, then both women began to show more enthusiasm and passion. For a good five minutes there was no conversation, no words exchanged as they regaled in each other’s touch.
Then they were laying side by side, their fingers caressing each other’s bodies. They put their foreheads together, breathing hard, almost panting.
“I didn’t expect this…” Susanne began.
“Must you get analytical at a time like this?” Sharon interrupted. “Goddammit, I love you. I have for a long time. I just did not realize to what extent. Now I know. Now we know.”
“I love you too, Sharon Wagner. It’s been there simmering. Now, it’s boiled over.”
“Remember the sleep overs, our game of pinch and tickle?”
“Yes.” Sharon’s voice was low and sultry.
“Time to take it to the next level, my love. My special love…”
A half hour later, Sharon and Susanne were squeezed together in the RV’s shower stall. They washed each other bodies, giggling like the schoolgirls they portrayed on stage. They kissed often, their hands would start to roam again and had to resist.
They still had one more show to do.
They finished, stepped out and toweled each other off. Again they had to restrain themselves with the touching, the caressing. Someone knocked on the RV door.
“Los Dos. It’s Maria. The show, it is about to start.”
“Be right there, Maria,” Sharon answered. Maria and her husband Pablo, plus a young son and daughter, had showed up some three weeks ago with a large mobile grill and taco truck. Now, they were the kitchen for the operation. And they were good.
Sharon gave Susanne a dreamy smile. “Can we do this?”
Susanne caressed her now lover.
“Yes. Negligée, black support hose. We give them a show without taking anything off.”
“Watching us reach under…” Sharon began.
“Touching for real this time. But they can’t see. Our love is kept…private.”
Sharon’s face became serious. “I love you. But I’m still attracted to men.”
“Ditto. Pact from today on. If you must, we share…everything.”
This caused both to break into large grins.
Hernando pounded on the door, yelling.
“Ladies. For the last time, you’re going to be late.”
“Boss,” Sharon yelled back. “You take off your clothes until we get there. The gay guys and the women will just love you.”
Hernando laughed. “Never a dull moment with you two, is there?”
“No. Sir. Never will be either.”
Things went well, as the months turned into almost a year since The Night. As well as it could be expected when the idea and reality of civilization had been greatly reduced. It had become apparent from first person accounts and official reports that an alien species resembling Earth cephalopods, squids and octopus, were the ones behind the Invasion, the rock strikes. These aliens, derogatorily called “Squids” by the survivors, were in control of the coastal areas worldwide, as well as areas around large bodies of water such as the Great Lakes. They had been seen moving on land, and their locomotion seemed to suggest they were amphibious. Bottom line, many humans had fled to the interior areas of the various continents. Those that hadn’t, existed in a feral condition in areas the Squids seemed to ignore. At least for right now.
Sharon and Susanne loved and worked at Toys in the Attic. The business became well known as their Oasis in Chaos. It also became a source for information about what was going on in the surrounding former U.S. States. The people who passed through gave definite information that Mississippi, Alabama and Georgia were being fenced and walled off by the Squids. Large numbers of s people of color were forced into the area, which soon became known as Cattle Country. Part of this roundup was being aided by the new Church of Kraken that had sprung up. These renegade Churchers—or Krakens as they were called—seemed to enjoy helping the Squids, as well as playing at being Squids. Attempts to don outfits that made them look cephalopodan and garish tattoos of stylized squids and octopus on all parts of their bodies were commonplace. Then there were the rumors of cannibalism.
“Fucking ghetto and concentration camp,” Sharon had spat out upon hearing the news of the round ups. “I have some Jewish relatives on my mom’s side. A few of an older generation lived through World War II. Never Forget.”
Hernando had looked at her after this outburst. “Well, truth is there is nothing we can do about it. At least they have left us alone.”
“Yes, Hernando,” Susanne responded. ”But that still doesn’t make us very happy about it.”
“True, ladies. Very true. Can you two join me in my office for a moment? I have something for you.”
A couple of minutes later, the two athletes were staring dumb-founded, as Hernando stacked some treasure in front of them on the desk.
“There. Stack of gold coins. Stack of silver coins. Some gold and silver jewelry. A bag of regular coin with some paper money thrown in, value on today’s market about as clear as mud. And Susanne’s revolver, fully loaded.”
“Why Boss? Why this now?” Sharon asked.
Hernando took a deep breath, then let it out.
“Just so you know you can, and you have the resources, to leave at any time.”
The team of Los Dos looked at each other. Then Susanne spoke.
“Are you firing us?”
“Oh, hell no! You can’t fire family.” Hernando pulled out a bottle of rum and took a swig straight from the bottle.
“To
be blunt, I am beginning to feel like a bit of a pimp and a slave master. You and some of the other young women are way too nice to be in this establishment. You can leave if you want to.”
Before he realized it, he had two tall and attractive young ladies with tears in their eyes, hugging the crap out of him.
“You’re like a big brother to us, you big jerk,” Susanne said with a lump in her throat.
“Well, just so you know. I don’t want people to think I own them or something. Just because I’ve had some criminal associations, doesn’t mean I’m an asshole.”
He gave each of the women a brotherly kiss on the cheek.
“By the way, Big John wants to say something,”
For such a huge man, he could move quietly. So they had not realized he was standing behind them. He rarely said much to them, but Sharon and Susanne were always quick with a hug and a kiss for the giant.
“Here. I knitted these for you.” He handed them each a matching sweater.
“You…knit?” Sharon was incredulous.
The huge blonde man shrugged. “Why not? I get bored sometimes. And this long winter we are having is hard on you young women.”
The tears then flowed, as the two women hugged and kissed on him, causing Big John to blush for the first time they could remember.
They came three weeks later in the night.
Sharon and Susanne were cuddled up together, the night being a bit cold and damp. They slept in the nude under a bunch of bed clothes, wanting the feel of the other’s skin when they slept together.
Loud shots, shouts, and screams came all at once. The two women were jerked awake by the commotion. Sharon grabbed for her snubby .38—just as the RV door was ripped off its hinges. Yelling figures were on top of them before they knew it. The pistol was knocked from Sharon’s hands, and the two athletes fought back with their Jeet Kun Do. The tall blonde grabbed a hold of one male figure’s testicles and crushed them with a hammer strike to her hand as she held them. The man shrieked so loud it hurt their ears.
Then the women were tazed into semi-consciousness, with plastic slip ties used to secure their hands. Bags were placed over their heads, as they were manhandled to the back of a furniture van. They found each other in the van by calling out and crawling to each other.
Free Range Protocol- Tales of the Tschaaa Infestation Page 14