after sustaining mortal wounds.
The body lying on the console was another young blonde. One of my shots
had hit her in the side of the head. I kept my gun trained on each body while
tapping the two on the bloody pavement with my foot. I tapped the third on the
shoulder with my gun.
No reaction from any of the bodies. I drew nearer, squatted, and felt for
pulses. There were none.
I finally put my auto on safety and returned it to my waistband. I bent over,
picked up the redhead, draped her over my shoulder, opened the side door, and
dropped her onto the seat. She was solidly-built, and it took considerable effort. It
was also messy. I’d clipped her high in the chest, and the massive blood loss
quickly stained my shirt. I left the other blonde lying across the front seats.
Just as I got into position to pick up Carla, Reed walked over. When he saw
the blood on my shirt he backed up, spun around, and doubled over, coughing and
hacking away. Once he got it under control, he cleared his throat. Then he
straightened and turned back around. His features had gone pale again. “I d-don’t
see how ... how you d-did that.”
“I just aimed and…”
“I didn’t mean that!” He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I meant, how
could you…?”
“They were going to kill us. Just like those looters in Cocoa.”
“I know. It’s just ... well…”
“These girls all had guns—like the looters. Make no mistake—females are
much more dangerous. You know that.”
Reed made no comment.
“I’ll bet they already whacked a slew of other guys before stopping us.
Probably used the same shtick, too.”
Reed stared at Carla, a pitiful expression on his face.
“Is that all you’d like to know?”
He just nodded.
I grabbed Carla beneath her armpits, pulled her up, and draped her over my
shoulder. She was solid, too. I opened the side door and flipped her gently onto
the seat, next to the redhead. I stood there a moment, looking at the three females
now dead by my hand. I no longer felt remorse. I was tired of being judged. This
damned plague had reduced life to a savage existence. I saw no reason to waste
my time explaining my actions.
I circled around to the van’s rear door and opened it. Crates of booze, food,
and ammunition filled the back.
“My God.” Reed had followed me. “They had more stuff than we do.”
“They’ve definitely been busy. Let’s take along a couple of these crates.”
“Just the food, right?”
Knowing how he felt about beer, I figured he wouldn’t want to load up on the
booze.
“You’re talking about the alcohol, right?”
“Actually, I’m quite fond of Scotch.”
“Really? I figured since you don’t like beer…”
“Beer makes me pee too much. What would you like?”
“I usually drink rum or bourbon.”
While Reed moved the booze, I set about looking for ammo. I found six green
canisters shoved against the seat. There were also boxes of shells for .38, .357, .
44, .45, 9 millimeter, .22, 30-30, and buckshot for various shotgun gauges.
Wedged between the canisters and the driver's seat was a small cooler. I
opened the lid. It took me a few moments to realize what I was looking at. Then it
hit me. It was a pile of human penises. Carla and her brood had been preying on
the men they’d met on the highway. Most of them probably hadn’t had any sex
for a while, were hungry and not thinking clearly. Carla and her gang enticed
them, murdered them, and looted what supplies they could find. Once they
acquired their booty, they separated the manhood from each of their victims for a
trophy and tossed it in the cooler. I had no idea how many lay on top of the bag of
ice, nor did I want to count them—but the pile was impressive.
Disgusted and nauseous, I slammed the lid shut, picked up two heavy
canisters and lugged them to our van. I now felt less guilty for killing them.
Reed was shoving a crate of bottles into an empty space in back. He’d also
brought over a crate of canned goods. I
The body lying on the console was another young blonde. One of my shots
had hit her in the side of the head. I kept my gun trained on each body while
tapping the two on the bloody pavement with my foot. I tapped the third on the
shoulder with my gun.
No reaction from any of the bodies. I drew nearer, squatted, and felt for
pulses. There were none.
I finally put my auto on safety and returned it to my waistband. I bent over,
picked up the redhead, draped her over my shoulder, opened the side door, and
dropped her onto the seat. She was solidly-built, and it took considerable effort. It
was also messy. I’d clipped her high in the chest, and the massive blood loss
quickly stained my shirt. I left the other blonde lying across the front seats.
Just as I got into position to pick up Carla, Reed walked over. When he saw
the blood on my shirt he backed up, spun around, and doubled over, coughing and
hacking away. Once he got it under control, he cleared his throat. Then he
straightened and turned back around. His features had gone pale again. “I d-don’t
see how ... how you d-did that.”
“I just aimed and…”
“I didn’t mean that!” He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I meant, how
could you…?”
“They were going to kill us. Just like those looters in Cocoa.”
“I know. It’s just ... well…”
“These girls all had guns—like the looters. Make no mistake—females are
much more dangerous. You know that.”
Reed made no comment.
“I’ll bet they already whacked a slew of other guys before stopping us.
Probably used the same shtick, too.”
Reed stared at Carla, a pitiful expression on his face.
“Is that all you’d like to know?”
He just nodded.
I grabbed Carla beneath her armpits, pulled her up, and draped her over my
shoulder. She was solid, too. I opened the side door and flipped her gently onto
the seat, next to the redhead. I stood there a moment, looking at the three females
now dead by my hand. I no longer felt remorse. I was tired of being judged. This
damned plague had reduced life to a savage existence. I saw no reason to waste
my time explaining my actions.
I circled around to the van’s rear door and opened it. Crates of booze, food,
and ammunition filled the back.
“My God.” Reed had followed me. “They had more stuff than we do.”
“They’ve definitely been busy. Let’s take along a couple of these crates.”
“Just the food, right?”
Knowing how he felt about beer, I figured he wouldn’t want to load up on the
booze.
“You’re talking about the alcohol, right?”
“Actually, I’m quite fond of Scotch.”
“Really? I figured since you don’t like beer…”
“Beer makes me pee too much. What would you like?”
“I usually drink rum or bourbon.”
While Reed moved the booze, I set about looking for ammo. I found six green
canisters shoved against the seat. There were also boxes of shells for .38, .357, .
44, .45, 9 millimeter, .22, 30-30, and buckshot for various shotgun gauges.
Wedged between the canisters and the driver's seat was a small cooler. I
opened the lid. It took me a few moments to realize what I was looking at. Then it
hit me. It was a pile of human penises. Carla and her brood had been preying on
the men they’d met on the highway. Most of them probably hadn’t had any sex
for a while, were hungry and not thinking clearly. Carla and her gang enticed
them, murdered them, and looted what supplies they could find. Once they
acquired their booty, they separated the manhood from each of their victims for a
trophy and tossed it in the cooler. I had no idea how many lay on top of the bag of
ice, nor did I want to count them—but the pile was impressive.
Disgusted and nauseous, I slammed the lid shut, picked up two heavy
canisters and lugged them to our van. I now felt less guilty for killing them.
Reed was shoving a crate of bottles into an empty space in back. He’d also
brought over a crate of canned goods. I
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