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Message-ID: <27899asstr$976839004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Al Steiner" <steiner_al@hotmail.com>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 14 Dec 2000 15:48:53 EST
Subject: {ASSM} NEW: Aftermath by Al Steiner- Ch 8 (MF, voy) 1/2
Date: Thu, 14 Dec 2000 19:10:04 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

AFTERMATH
By Al Steiner
CHAPTER 8, PART 1/2
Send all comments to steiner_al@hotmail.com
Previous chapters can be found at www.storiesonline.net



CHAPTER 8



It was nearly two o'clock when a weary and sore Brett found Paul in the
community center.  Paul had converted one of the empty conference rooms into
a makeshift hospital to house the wounded.  Dale, Sherri, and Michelle were
lying on cots in the room, all of them covered with blankets, their various
injuries bandaged up as best as possible.  None of the three was conscious
when he came in.  The wounded prisoner had been bandaged up as well, but he
was not housed with the others.  He was housed in an empty supply room down
the hall, two armed guards out front.

Paul was kneeling next to Dale, examining the wound beneath the trauma
dressing.  He put the bandage back into place and stood up, stripping off
the pair of latex gloves that he'd donned and dropping them into a garbage
can.  He waved Brett over to a small desk, out of earshot of the patients as
long as they talked quietly.  They sat down.

"The town is secure," Brett told him.  "We've checked everything from one
end to the other and there's no sign of any further invaders.  Of course
that doesn't mean that there isn't a force holed up in an empty house or
something, but I talked to the prisoner before we went out and he told me
that there was only sixteen of them that came in.  We have sixteen accounted
for; fifteen dead ones and one injured one.  They've been watching us for a
few days - from the hill overlooking town no less - and they moved in early
this morning by scaling the wall across from the guard posts.  Their plan
was to take out the guard positions quietly with those pesticide bombs and
then hit the community center while we were at breakfast.  They were going
to load our supplies and enough women for all of them onto our vehicles and
then head out."

"Ambitious plan," Paul commented sourly.

"It would've worked if Michelle hadn't spotted them."

"That's a little to fine of a margin for comfort."

"My feelings exactly," Brett agreed.

"Are you sure the prisoner is telling the truth?"

Brett gave a strange little smile - a smile that told Paul he didn't want to
know.  "Oh, I'm pretty sure he is," he said.

"I see," he said, saying nothing further on THAT subject.  "What else?"

"I've got the guard positions up-staffed again, although I'm using untrained
people at the moment.  I thought I'd give all of my people and everyone who
participated in the battle and the clean up the night off.  It seems the
least we can do.  Especially after... you know... the bodies."

Paul nodded understandingly.  He had been monitoring the progress of the
goings-on since the battle on his radio.  He had heard about the grisly
discovery of Mitsy, Lenny, and Jeff in guard position 3.  "Pretty bad, huh?"

"It almost made me sick," Brett told him.  "It was cans of Raid insect
poison exploded in the room with them, just like they tried to do to
Michelle and Brenda.  I'm a veteran cop that has seen some serious shit over
the years and I almost puked when I saw and smelled what had become of them.
We haven't been able to move the bodies out of there yet; the fumes are
still that strong.  We've opened all the windows in that house and hopefully
it will be aired out enough to make a recovery tomorrow."

"I take it that you're not using that house as position 3 anymore."

"No, that's impossible.  I've got it located four houses over now, in
another two story.  I thought under the circumstances I could make such a
move without committee approval."  He spat these last two words out.

"Now now," Paul said wearily.  "It's not the time for that yet.  It's coming
soon, but not yet."

Brett nodded and went on with his report.  "Brenda was DOA, as you know.
We've recovered her body.  It's now in the supply room off the downstairs
hallway with Rick's body.  As soon as we can get Mitsy and the others, we'll
put them in there too and wrap them up in blankets for burial."

"What about the invaders' bodies?"

"I've got them stacked in the back of the wood gathering truck right now.
With your permission I'll grab a crew and take them out to the bridge and
toss them over.  I don't see any reason to waste effort burying those
assholes."

"I agree.  Get it done as soon as you can."

"How are things in here?" Brett asked.

Paul shook his head, his eyes showing helplessness.  "Dale's gonna die," he
said.  "Probably within the next twenty-four hours.  He's bleeding
internally at a slow but steady rate.  I have no way to replace blood or
repair the damage that the bullet did to him.  Even if I did, he would only
get peritonitis.  His small intestine is pretty ripped up.  I can see that
just by looking from the outside.  That means his large intestine and
probably his stomach took a hit as well."

"What a waste," Brett said, not being the least bit sarcastic.  Though he
had not liked Dale, not in the least, he had no desire to see one of the
townspeople perish.  Especially not when it was such a worthless and
unnecessary death.  "Does anyone know?"

"Not officially," he answered.  "I'm sure that anyone who has looked at him
has a pretty good idea though."

"What about Jessica?"

Paul made a snort of disgust.  "What about her?" he asked.

"Does she know?"

"She doesn't know shit," he said.  "She hasn't been in here to see him a
single time.  I have no idea where she is right now.  I saw her earlier
talking to some of the other women about something and she was making the
same old gossip motions, riling them up about something or other.  She
doesn't change."

"Oh well," Brett shrugged.  "Let her rant.  She ran away when the shit hit
the fan out there.  Fucking ran away.  What about Michelle and Sherri?  How
are they doing?"

"Michelle will probably be all right," he said.  "She was pretty sick when
they brought her in.  She got a good snootful of that pesticide but if she
was gonna die from it she would've already done so.  She's probably already
purged most of it from her body.  She's just gonna feel sick for awhile.
Sherri, on the other hand, is a different story."

"She just has a leg injury, doesn't she?" Brett asked.  "What's lethal about
that?"

"Nothing if this were civilization," he said.  "But since it isn't, things
are a little different.  In the first place, she has a broken femur.  The
bullet tore right through it.  I don't know how to set femurs and get them
to grow back together right so there's a good possibility that even if she
does live, she'll never be able to walk right again.  But that's not the
main concern here.  The main concern is infection.  She had a dirty bullet
pass through her body.  She'll be prone to blood poisoning or some other
infection from that.  I cleaned the wound out as best I could and I gave her
a big dose of penicillin from the supply we have, but I just don't know if
its going to be enough to counter something like that.  In a hospital, she
would've been given a big dose of intravenous antibiotics.  Here, I have
nothing but Keflex and Amoxicillin that people used to use to treat freakin
bladder infections and strep throat.  If she does get blood poisoning, what
am I supposed to do about it?  Do I cut off her leg?  I sure as shit don't
know how to do that without killing her."

"You're doing the best you can Paul," Brett told him.  "That's all that you
can do.  You can't help it that you're not a doctor or that you don't have
the right supplies.  You work with what you got."

He nodded, still frowning.  "I know," he said.  "It just makes me feel so
helpless.  I've got two gravely wounded people here and one that has been
poisoned and all I can do for them is dope them up with Valium and vicodin
and give them some low grade antibiotics in the hope that will work.
Strangely enough, Michelle would've been the easiest one to treat if I just
had the supplies.  Paramedics carry atropine as part of their drug
inventory.  Atropine counteracts the effects of organo-phosphate poison.
But I don't have any of it.  All I have is the first aid supplies from the
fire station and the drugs we got from people's houses."

"Nobody will fault you Paul.  They know you're doing the best you can.
Don't be so hard on yourself."

"I'll try," he said, looking at his three patients sadly.  "I've just never
felt as uncivilized as I do right now.  Back before the comet when me and my
fire-crew responded to shit like this, they didn't die.  We just called for
the medivac chopper and flew them off to Sacramento or Reno.  They went into
a nice trauma center and had their injuries patched up and then they went
about their lives. They didn't die from peritonitis or blood poisoning
because they couldn't get to a doctor or decent medicine."

"Nope," Brett said.  "And they didn't get nerve gassed or shot in a battle
over cans of corned beef hash and ravioli either, did they?  We live in an
uncivilized world now.  If anybody in town needs any more proof of that,
they can just go look in the supply room around the corner."


+++++



Brett had given firm orders to both Chrissie and Jason to go home and get
some rest.  For that reason he was somewhat surprised to find both of them
in the armory when he went there after finishing up the distasteful task of
dumping the fifteen bodies of the invaders over the railing of the bridge.
He had come in to make an inventory of their remaining ammunition supply so
he could see how much the battle had consumed.  When he entered the room
Chrissie was leaning against a bank of lockers, sipping from a can of warm
soda and Jason was curled up on the locker room bench, snoring softly.

"I thought I told you two to go home," he said, walking over and sitting on
the bench across from Chrissie.

She shrugged, giving him a tired smile.  "We figured that you would want an
ammo count done as soon as possible," she said.  "So we came in here to do
it.  I guess Jason didn't realize how tired he was.  He laid down there to
take a break and never got back up."

Brett looked at him affectionately.  "Poor guy.  He did all this after
working the night shift.  I'll wake him up and send him over to his house in
a few minutes.  First, I can use a break as well.  Did you finish the
inventory?"

"I finished it after he fell asleep," she said.  "I don't know how many
unfired rounds there are floating around outside this room, but there are
330 less .30 caliber rounds, 212 less 5.65s, and 118 less 7.65s."

"Is anything approaching critical levels?" he asked.

She nodded.  ". 30 caliber is down to less than 500.  That's what most of
the hunting rifles fire."

"Great," he sighed.  "More good news."  He gave her a smile.  "Thanks for
taking care of that for me."

"Sure," she said.

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"How are the wounded?" she asked at last.

He gave her the update that Paul had given him.  She frowned as she heard
that Dale was for sure going to die and that Sherri was possibly going to.
"Those poor people," she said.  "I mean, Dale was just Jessica's little
puppet and Sherri was almost as bad at talking shit about me as Jessica, but
I didn't want this to happen to them.  It's horrible."

"I know.  I didn't want it either, but we have to deal with what happens,
don't we?  There's no way to change the past."

"No," she said.  "I guess there isn't."

Another silence developed, this one a little more uncomfortable than the
first.  Brett sensed that she wanted to say something important to him and
was working up the nerve.  He gave her the time.

"I almost died out there Brett," she said at last, her words barely audible.

"Oh?"

She nodded.  "When I was trying to flush that last guy out of the planter,
he took a shot at me.  I saw the flash and I rolled up onto my side.  I
didn't think about it, I just did it."  She took a deep breath.  "And the
bullet hit right where I had been lying; right there where I'd been less
than a second before.  If I wouldn't have moved..."

"But you did," he said.  "You did and you're still alive because of it."

"I almost wasn't though," she said.  "I can't get that out of my mind.  I
could've died out there and it was only a simple little roll that saved me.
I could've died."

He slid down off the bench and joined her on the floor.  He put his arm
around her, pulling her against him.  She didn't protest or pull away.  "We
all could've died Chris," he told her gently.  "We were in a war.  That's
what happens in war.  People die.  This time we didn't.  Thanks to you and
Jason and Michelle and Matt, we were able to rally these people into
something approximating an army.  It was crude and it bordered on a complete
clusterfuck, but we won.  We lost five people and we may lose two more, but
we won this one.  You should be proud of yourself.  I certainly am proud of
you."

She snuggled up a little to him, acknowledging for the first time that he
was holding her.  "You have a way of making me feel better," she said.  "You
always have."

He held her tighter, knowing that he probably didn't smell very good at the
moment, but Chrissie didn't seem to mind.  After all, she had smelled him
under much worse conditions.  They simply sat there for a few minutes,
enjoying the closeness after so long without it.   Brett did not think ahead
to what their embrace symbolized.  He just enjoyed the now.

"I'm pregnant," she said at last.

He felt no particular surprise at her words.  Though it was somewhat of a
jolt to have his suspicions concerned, he had long since realized that it
would have been a miracle for her to NOT be pregnant after all of the
unprotected sex that they'd had.  "I see," he said slowly.  "And how does
that make you feel?"

"It makes me feel attached to you," she told him.  "I love you Brett.  I've
loved you since maybe our second or third day together.  This just makes me
love you even more, makes me want you even more.  I've been in denial about
it for the longest time.  I've been telling myself that I was just under
stress and that's why my period hasn't come.  I've been telling myself that
getting sick in the morning is just because I have to get up so early.  I've
been telling myself that my boobs are sore all the time because of the damp
air.  But then Michelle talked to me last night and just laid it out for
me."

"Did she?" he asked, wondering in the back of his mind how Michelle had
known.  Certainly Chrissie had not told her anything.

Chrissie nodded, her head bobbing up and down against his shoulder.  "She's
pretty smart," she said.  "She checked the sign-out logs in the supply room
and saw that I haven't been using tampons or pads."

Brett ginned.  "She IS very perceptive, isn't she?"

"I can't compete with that," she said.  "I just can't."

"There's nothing to compete about Chris," he told her.  "I love you too and
you're carrying my baby inside of you.  Like I told you the other night, I
don't want to lose you."

"But you don't want to lose Michelle either, do you?"

He sighed.  "I like Michelle a lot Chrissie," he said.  "I don't know if I
love her but I probably could.  Would I love her more than you?  I don't
know, I'm not a psychic.  If I had to absolutely choose between you and her,
I would choose you.  But Chris, I can't promise to be faithful to you under
these... circumstances that we have here.  That is really too much to ask of
someone."

"I know," she said.  "I've been thinking a lot about what Michelle told me
last night, about this... sharing thing."

"And?"

"And it makes a lot of sense I guess.  I didn't want it to at first.  I just
wanted things to be the way they were between us.  Remember?  When we were
out in the woods, just you, Jason, and I?"

"I remember," he told her.

"But we can't be like that anymore.  Things are different now.  And we can't
be like a normal couple in the old world either.  Like Michelle said, women
are the glut here and men are the demand.  If I want to keep my man, I'm
gonna have to share him.  I didn't want to accept that at first, no matter
how much sense it made, but after what happened today... well, things look a
little different now.  Almost getting your head blown off does a lot for
giving you a reality check, you know?"

"That it does," he agreed.  "So what are you saying?"

"We'll give it a try," she said quietly.  "I don't know if its going to work
or not, but I'll try to make it work if she will."

"Wow," Brett said after a moment.  "I'm not sure what to say Chris.  What's
the proper response when your woman agrees to share you with someone else?"

She laughed a little.  "You say you'll do it," she told him.

"I'll do it," he said.  "And as of this moment, our relationship is no
longer going to be a secret.  I've had a few revelations of my own today and
one of them is that I shouldn't give a flying fuck what other people think.
If they don't like the fact that I'm with you, they can just kiss my ass and
find someone else to help save their town when someone attacks it."

"Do you mean that?" she asked.

He took her face in his and kissed her on the mouth.  It was a long,
drawn-out kiss.  "I mean it," he said.  "No more hiding.  Everything's in
the open now."

"Let's go home," she said a little breathlessly.  "I think we should
officially make up with each other before dinner tonight."

"I think you've got a workable plan there," he said.



+++++



They walked through the community center hand in hand, looking like lovers.
They passed no less than ten people, most of them women, before donning
their rain slickers and exiting the building.  No one said anything to them
as they passed, but their affection was duly noted and the expected barrage
of shocked looks and whispered comments followed in their wake.

"Did you SEE the way they were walking?"

"You don't suppose that they're... that he's actually..."

"I just BET he is.  I bet he's been doing it this whole time."

"What about Michelle?  I thought she was the one?"

"Apparently he liked little girls instead."

"Mmmm hmmm."

Though everyone knew that it had been Chrissie and Jason who had reported
the movement of the enemy that morning and allowed Brett to set a trap for
them, though they also knew that Jason and Chrissie had been the ones to gun
down the final two invaders, these points never once came up in the
conversations.  It was almost as if they did not equate the young girl on
Brett's arm (and YES, it looks like they're going back to their house
together!) with the woman who had performed those feats of heroism.

Within minutes of their passage, the Brett and Chrissie story was actually
able to surpass the invasion story as the main topic of conversation.  After
all, talking about death and nerve gas and lost friends was depressing.
Talking about a sexual scandal, on the other hand, was what they lived for.

One person who took particular note of the pairing was Jessica.  She had
been making the rounds through the community center, talking to all of the
women she could find to explain her version of the events that had taken
place earlier.  She downplayed the story about her breaking and running when
the gunfire started, not denying it since there were multiple witnesses who
had seen her do it, but rationalizing it as a run to go get help for Dale.
As for the invasion itself, it was her view that a criminal lapse in
security had been what had allowed it in the first place.  And just WHO is
in charge of security?  Since most of the women had no idea how many of
Brett's strategic suggestions had been voted down over the weeks, they had
little problem assigning blame to him.  Sure, he had acted heroically and
quickly when it became apparent that an invasion had taken place - even
Jessica gave him that - but had he paid more attention to his job in the
first place, there would have been no invasion and there would not be five
people dead.

Now, as she saw Brett and Chrissie heading towards their house, hand in
hand, she smiled in a predatory manner.  She now had even more ammunition to
use against him. Here, at last, was her chance to get rid of that meddling
interloper who was constantly trying to upstage her and usurp her position
in the town.  At dinner tonight she would be able to rally the women into a
lynch mob and Brett would be lucky if banishment was all that he ended up
with.


+++++


It started out tender and slow, the way reconciled lovers usually approached
the first lovemaking.  They undressed each other piece by piece, kissing
softly, their tongues barely touching.  But by the time they were both nude,
passion took over, pushing tenderness to the side.  They clutched at each
other desperately, their hands moving up and down each other's body, their
tongues dueling in each other's mouths.  After less than ten minutes of
foreplay, they could take no more.  He put her down on the bed and she
spread her pretty legs for him.  He slid into her familiar tightness and
began to thrust.  She came first, but only by a margin of seconds.

After, as they lay entangled in each other's arms, the bedcover pulled over
them to combat the chill, she asked, "Are you sure that letting everyone see
us was the way to go about letting them know?  Jessica has probably got a
spy out there right now."

"I'm sure she does," he said, his fingers playing with her hair.  "I don't
care though.  My days of caring what these people think are over.  As a
matter of fact, I intend to give her a lot more to think about before the
end of the day."

"What do you mean?"

He told her, making her smile wickedly.  "You're flanking her," she said,
giggling.

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say that," he replied.  "I'm just giving her some
rope so she can hang herself."  He let his hand slide down to her ass, where
it began to stroke.  "However, I wouldn't mind flanking YOU one more time
before we head back."

She giggled again, kissing him.  "We DO have a lot to make up for, don't
we?"



+++++



They made their way back to the community center at 3:30, once again holding
hands like lovers.  They passed through the same sets of disapproving eyes,
neither one acknowledging the glares that were being thrown at them.  They
went directly to the hospital room where Paul was still watching over the
wounded.

Michelle and Sherri were both awake when they came in, Michelle sitting up
and trying to eat some chicken broth, Sherri moaning pathetically in pain.
Dale was still quite unconscious, his skin pale, his forehead bathed in
sweat.

"How is he?" Brett asked as Paul met them at the door.

"Fading," he answered.  "His blood pressure is dropping and his pulse rate
is up.  I can hardly wake him up anymore.  I don't think he'll make it
through the night."

Chrissie shook her head sadly as she looked at him.  "I wish it could've
happened differently," she said.

Paul nodded in agreement.  "Sherri is stable for the moment, though in a lot
of pain.  I'm using up a good portion of our Vicodin trying to keep her
comfortable.  Michelle however, seems to be a lot better.  As you can see,
she's sitting up and eating now.  I can only take that as a good sign."

Michelle, hearing her name spoken, looked over at them.  She smiled as she
saw her visitors.  "We've been hearing about you two in here," she said, her
voice just loud enough to carry to them.

"Hearing?" Brett said.

"Oh yes," Paul agreed.  "Jessica was up here a few minutes ago.  Obstinately
she came to check on Dale but she only gave him a quick glance before she
started going on about how the two of you were seen walking hand and hand to
your house.  Of course she didn't hesitate to speculate on just what that
meant."

"I'm sure she didn't," Brett said.

Paul looked at him seriously.  "Is it true?" he asked.  "I don't care
myself, but you know how the attitudes in this town are."

"It's true," Brett said.  "Chrissie and I are lovers.  We have been since
before we even got here."

"Jesus," he said.  "Couldn't you have... you know... kept that under wraps
for a little while longer?  At least until the mood settles down?"

"Nope," Brett said.  "I'm done hiding things.  If the town doesn't like it,
they can kiss my ass."

He walked over to Michelle, leaving Paul to stare after him and wonder if he
was mad.  Chrissie, still holding his hand, followed.

"You two certainly have this town in an uproar," Michelle said lightly.  She
spooned another load of chicken broth into her mouth.

"We thought that under the circumstances, it was time to come clean," Brett
told her.  He sat in a stool near the edge of her cot.  "So how are you
feeling?"

"Better," she said.  "I haven't puked in almost three hours now.  I can tell
you that I now have sympathy for all of the bugs that I sprayed with that
shit over the years."

"You saved everyone Michelle," he said seriously.  "If you wouldn't have
spotted them and got the word out, they would've hit us while we were eating
breakfast.  That was their plan.  They were going to steal our food and take
enough women for each of them to have a playmate.  Because we were ready for
them, we were able to kick their asses.  If we had a Medal of Honor, I'd see
to it that you were awarded one."

"I was doing what I was supposed to do," she said, shrugging off his praise.
"I only wish it would've been enough to save Brenda and the others."

"That wasn't your fault," Chrissie said.  "That was nobody's fault but their
own.  You heard how we found Jeff, Lenny, and Mitsy, didn't you?"

She nodded.  "I heard they were naked."

"They were," Brett confirmed.  "They were screwing each other on guard duty.
They chose not to take their duties seriously and they died for that.  You
chose to take yours seriously, and you're alive.  You should feel proud of
yourself and this town should thank you."

"No, they should thank YOU," she returned.  "You're the one that engineered
the battle."

He nodded.  "Yes, I did.  Unfortunately, all that people can seem to talk
about now is Chrissie and I.  That will change tonight at dinner.  In the
meantime, how about we give them something else to talk about?"

She looked at the both of them.  "Are you saying what I think you're
saying?" she asked.

Chrissie nodded, not quite smiling.  "It looks like we're co-owners of this
man," she said, squeezing his hand.  "God help us."

Michelle put her soup bowl down on a small table next to the bed.  She sat
up straighter.  "Are you sure about this Chrissie?  I know I tried to push
it on you in the first place, but don't do this unless you think we might be
able to make it work."

"I'm as sure as I can be," she said.  "Like I said before, it's not what I
always dreamed of when I was growing up, but it'll have to do, won't it?
I'll give it a shot, the best shot I can."

"That's all I ask," Michelle said with a grin.  She held out her hand.
"Friends?"

"Friends," Chrissie said, ignoring the hand and leaning in for a hug.  "Or
maybe sisters would be a better term."

Paul, who had been lingering nearby pretending that he wasn't listening to
them, suddenly could hold his tongue no longer.  "Are you three talking
about what I think you're talking about?" he asked.

Brett looked up at him.  "Yes we are," he said.  "Paul, you have the honor
of witnessing the first polygamous grouping in Garden Hill."

"May there be many more," Michelle added.

Paul just looked at them, stunned.  "Oh my god," he said at last.


+++++


While Chrissie remained in the hospital room with Michelle (they had a lot
to talk about), Brett went out in search of Jessica.  It didn't take long to
find her.  He simply looked for a gathering of women and there she was right
in the middle of it.  In this case the gathering was outside the women's
locker room, where, despite the tragedy that had occurred that day, women
were still waiting their turn at the bathtub.

"So you can see that allowing someone like him into this town was probably
the worst mistake that we ever made," Jessica was saying as he approached.
"I mean, first he gets Paul to change his votes on everything and then we
get invaded!  Five people are dead because of..." she cut herself abruptly
off as she suddenly saw him standing there.

There was a murmur from the other women standing around, half embarrassed
that they had been caught gossiping, half angry that the demon they had been
discussing was standing there.  Brett pretended not to have heard what was
being discussed.  "Jess," he said politely, "can I talk to you upstairs for
a moment?  There's some paperwork that I need to have changed around."

"Paperwork?" she asked coldly.  "I don't really have time to handle
paperwork right now."

"Okay," he said, as if it didn't really matter.  "I'll just grab it myself.
I know where it's kept."

That had the desired effect upon her.  Jessica's files were sacred to her
and the thought of someone, especially Brett, going through them, was enough
to change her mind.  "No," she said suddenly, "that's okay.  I'll help you.
What is it that you need to do?"

"It's a private matter," he said quietly, as if he knew that he could trust
her to keep whatever it was a secret.

"I see," she said.

The crowd parted for her and she walked through them, passing in front of
Brett and leading him through the community center towards the stairs.  They
did not talk.  When they got to the office she sat down at her desk and
looked up at him.  "So what is it that you need done?"

"I need you to change my address in the files," he said, keeping his voice
level.  "I'm going to be moving in with Michelle tomorrow morning."

"Moving in with Michelle?" she asked, making no move to open her desk
drawer.

"That's right," he said.  "We're somewhat of an item now as you might have
heard."

"I've heard a lot," she said shrewdly.  "I've heard that you and that young
girl you live with are somewhat of an item as well."

Brett nodded.  "Yep," he said, his voice no different than if he was
confirming that they were having tuna casserole for dinner that night, "we
are.  She's going to be moving over there with us too.  And since Jason has
moved in with Stacy, that means the whole house will be empty."

Jessica simply stared at him, certain that she was either not hearing
correctly or that he was joking with her.

"Oh, and by the way, Chrissie is pregnant," he said next.  "At least we
think she is.  We'll probably sign out one of those home tests from the
supply room and confirm it.  Is that something you keep track of?  Who's
pregnant?"

"I don't think you're very funny," Jessica spat.

"I wasn't trying to be," he told her.  "If she is pregnant, we'll sign out
some of those over the counter vitamins for her.  Isn't it a shame that the
grocery store didn't have a pharmacy in it?  Wouldn't that have..."

"What are you doing?" Jessica interrupted, her voice low and bordering on
dangerous.

"I'm not doing anything," he said.  "I'm just informing you of a change of
address since you're in charge of keeping track of that sort of thing.  As
of tomorrow, Michelle, Chrissie, and I will be living at Michelle's house."

"Are you ADMITTING to me that you have sex with that young girl?"

He nodded.  "Yep.  She's really good at it too.  I can't wait until she
starts to show.  I've always had kind of a thing for pregnant women."

Jessica's face was now starting to turn red.  "And does Michelle know about
this?" she asked.

"Uh huh," he said.  "It was Michelle that suggested we move in with her.  Of
course it took a while to convince Chrissie to go along with this.  I mean,
a man having two official women is kind of strange.  But gradually she came
around to seeing how much sense it makes."

"Are you telling me that you think you're going to be allowed to continue to
sleep with that child?  And that you think you're going to be allowed to
sleep with Michelle as well?"

"Allowed?" he asked.  "I wasn't aware that I had to be ALLOWED to do
anything.  What business is it of yours or anyone else's who I sleep with,
or how many I sleep with?"

"I don't know what kind of game you think you're playing here," she said,
pointing her finger at him.  "But I can assure you that it will not be
tolerated.  You are a sick, perverted, lecherous man and you will be out of
this town by nightfall.  I promise you that!"  With that she stood up and
headed for the door.

"So does this mean you're not going to change the paperwork?" he asked as
she stormed out.


+++++


Jessica did exactly what Brett had known she would do.  She stormed down and
began telling the entire story to every person that she encountered.  By the
time the dinner hour rolled around, the town's women were in a fury about
it.  The fact that they had been invaded that morning and that five of their
number were dead was almost forgotten.


+++++


At dinner that night Brett sat with Chrissie at a table near the front of
the room.  He made sure that Jason, who wanted nothing more than to sleep
the night away, was sitting there as well.  Even Michelle, who was not quite
recovered from her pesticide exposure, dragged herself into the gym and had
a seat.  The four of them ate in silence, with no other people seated at
their table.  They ignored the stares and the pointed fingers that were
directed their way.

Though official community meetings usually were begun after everyone had
finished eating, Jessica started this one early.  It was obvious that the
events of the day had wrecked havoc on everyone's appetite.  Most of the
food went untouched.  She mounted the small podium that had been extricated
from another part of the center and turned on the battery powered public
address system that was used for such things.  After tapping the microphone
a few times, she began.

"This meeting is hereby called to order," she said, pounding her gavel on
the podium (Brett wondered for the hundredth time where she had even found a
gavel.  Had it come from some judge's house?)  The murmur of conversation
died down much faster than it normally did at such times.  "I'd like to
begin by explaining the events of this morning to you in as much detail as
I've been able to gleam," she said.  "By now I'm sure every last one of you
knows that an armed force entered the town at eight this morning and caused
the deaths of five people and the wounding of three.  I will relate what I
know as was told to me by our so-called security chief, Mr. Adams."

There was somewhat of a titter at her words.  Brett didn't mind.  He had
expected no less from her.

"As best we can tell," Jessica went on, "a group of sixteen men climbed over
the wall near guard positions two and three at some point early this
morning, before sunrise.  They moved into position near those posts and, at
eight o'clock this morning, they attacked the two guard positions.  At
position three, they managed to throw pesticide bombs in through the window.
This caused the death of Mitsy Black, Jeff Hollister, and Lenny Long.  At
position 3, Michelle Westover and Brenda Callahan were able to see the
invaders before they managed to throw their bombs in.  The bomb throwers
were killed but the remaining team fired upon the position and killed
Brenda.  Michelle was able to get the word out that an invasion was taking
place and that is what prompted the response that you saw this morning.

"As you are aware, the invaders joined up and began moving towards the
community center.  Their goal, again this is according to Mr. Adams based
upon a discussion he had with a captured invader, was to take over the
community center and steal our food supply.  At some point between the guard
positions and the community center, the group broke up into two again, one
approaching from the west and one approaching from the east.  Now Matt Engle
took charge of the group defending us from the east.  His group suffered no
casualties of any kind and managed to kill all of the invaders.  On the west
however, I'm sad to say that the group led by Mr. Adams suffered one dead
and two wounded fighting a group of FOUR people.  Eventually these invaders
were all killed as well."

She paused for a moment while everyone discussed what she had said among
themselves.  When they finally piped down, she gave them a concerned and
hurt look, one that seemed to be, to each individual watching, directed at
them.  "This is a very tragic event that has taken place here today," she
said.  "Words cannot even begin to describe how it feels to know that the
town that I am a part of was ATTACKED and that friends of mine - Mitsy,
Brenda, Jeff, Lenny, and Rick, are no longer with us because of it.  Like
you, I wanted to know how such a thing as this could have been allowed to
happen in the first place.  Who is responsible for it?"  She let that linger
in the air for a few moments.  "I'll tell you," she went on, "we don't have
to look terribly far to find the answer to this question.  The party that
needs to answer for this gross lack of security is the man that we,
inadvisably it seems now, put in charge of that security in the first place.
That person, as you all know, is Brett Adams."

There was an angry babble of voices and all eyes turned to Brett, who simply
sat there, looking up at Jessica with a blank expression on his face.

"This is a man," Jessica went on, "that has brought considerable turmoil to
this town since he came here.  He snuck in here one night under the cover of
darkness and managed to sweet talk and charm his way into your hearts.  With
the assistance of our so-called committee member Paul..." she shot an angry
look at him, letting him know that she was going for his blood as well,
"...he was voted into our town by popular decree, despite a committee vote
barring him.  Now I do not blame you good people for giving him your support
in the beginning.  Not at all.  He was a handsome, virile looking man in a
town where men are scarce.  He seemed friendly and knowledgeable and he led
us to believe that he would be a valuable asset.  It is perfectly
understandable that he led many of us in.

"But now, after all that we know about him, especially after this fiasco
that has resulted in the deaths... the DEATHS... of five of our friends, I
think it is time to reevaluate Mr. Adams' welcome among us.  Now had the
criminal lack of security that he was responsible for been the only thing, I
believe that we might have found it in our hearts to allow him to remain a
citizen - although not a security chief.  But this is not the only character
flaw we have found about him, is it?"

Another angry murmur went up.  Brett again continued to look passively
forward, not reacting to her words.

"No," she said, answering her own question.  "It is not.  There have been
charges of vote influence against him in the shameless way he gets Paul to
vote his will each and every time.  There have been charges of reckless use
of supply room stocks such as ammunition and even alcohol and marijuana.
There has even been some evidence of improper sexual behavior with that
young boy that he shared a house with."

"I hadn't heard that one," Brett whispered to Michelle, still keeping his
face neutral.

"And now," Jessica continued, her voice raising dramatically, "I have
discovered even more despicable acts that he has committed.  This very
afternoon he admitted to me in person that he has been having sexual
relations with Chrissie, the SIXTEEN year old girl that has been living with
him.  He ADMITTED this to me!  And that is not all either.  He also told me
that the young girl is now pregnant, and that he thinks he should be allowed
to continue to live with her.  This man is a common rapist!  He has usurped
the morals of that poor young girl and now he wants to live with her!"  She
shook her head in bewilderment.  "Well I for one am here to tell you that I
am beyond shocked.  I know that you, the good people of this town, have no
intention of letting this menace stay here for another night.

"Now as you all know, the attack this morning gravely wounded Dale, my dear
companion and a committee member.  That leaves us without a full committee
and without the ability to obtain a clear majority on any matter until such
time as Dale gets better or, god forbid, we are forced to replace him.
However, there are still important decisions that need to be decided upon,
most critically at this moment, what we should do about the criminal that
walks among us."

Some cries of "yes", and "that's right" came from the audience.

"It is my suggestion," Jessica said, "that in the interim, critical
decisions such as this should be made by a vote of the entire community.
Unless there are any objections..." she looked at Paul and Brett as she said
this, her expression daring them to object, "...I think that it would be
appropriate to make and vote on motions right here, right now.   I believe
that a simple majority for routine matters would suffice, and a two-thirds
majority for such matters as exile."

The crowd obviously liked this idea.  Neither Paul nor Brett nor anyone else
had any objections to it.  Jessica looked at them a little suspiciously -
she obviously had a speech planned in the event that that happened - but
they simply stared back at her.

"Okay," she said, throwing off her suspicions, thinking that maybe they
realized their number was up.  "Let's vote this in and make it official.  I
move that that the community, in the absence of a full committee, should
have the power to vote upon issues at hand during that time period.  A
simple majority for routine matters and a two-thirds majority for issues
involving exile.  Do I have a second for the motion?"

Dozens of cries of "I second" were shouted out.

"Then let's vote on the matter.  All in favor say aye."

The ayes were so loud that it almost hurt the ears.

"All opposed?" Jessica asked snidely.

A few nays were meekly offered, mostly from the men or from those at Brett's
table.   Brett himself did not vote.

"The motion is clearly passed," Jessica said, pounding her gavel.  "This
community has just empowered itself to vote on these issues.  And now that
it has done so, I move that we vote on the exile of Brett Adams from the
town of Garden Hill on charges of gross negligence and various sex crimes.
Since this is exile, two-thirds must vote in favor.  Do I have a second?"

"Brett," Michelle whispered frantically, as dozens more people seconded her
motion, "they're about to vote you out of town!  Isn't it about time you did
something?!"

"Yes," he said, cracking his knuckles.  "It's about time."

"There is a motion on the floor," Jessica, almost giddy now that she sensed
her moment at hand, told the crowd.  "The motion is whether or not to exile
Brett Adams from the town of Garden Hill.  All in favor..."

"Wait," Brett said, standing up, his voice easily carrying throughout the
room.  People began to catcall to him, telling him to sit down.

"There is no waiting Mr. Adams," Jessica told him, a smile upon her face.
"We are in the midst of a vote."

"Are you going to vote me out of this town without even giving me a chance
to defend myself against your charges?" he asked her.  "That's not very
democratic, is it?"

"I hardly think you have a defense that we would want to listen to," she
said.

"But nevertheless," he said, turning to look at the sea of hostile faces,
"is that not my right?  Were we not once Americans?  Will you sentence me to
death out there without even hearing what I have to say for myself?  Surely
you people are not THAT callous, are you?"

There was a confused muttering of voices at his words as they tried to find
fault with them and failed.  He had struck a chord with them, that was plain
to see.  Jessica, no slouch at reading the mood of crowds, could see this as
well.

"I think we've heard enough lies from this man," she told the room.  "I see
no reason to hear any more.  Now, back to the motion.  All in favor..."

"No," a voice called.  It was Paul, who was standing up on his seat.  "He
has a right to be heard.  Let him talk."

Michelle was the next.  "I agree.  If we're going to send someone out there,
we at least have the responsibility to hear his side of the story first."

"Unless," Brett, seeing his opening, put in, "Jessica is AFRAID to let me
speak.  Maybe she's scared that I'll say something to cut her influence
down."

There was an excited babble this time.  Jessica's face reddened in anger.
But still, he had neatly trapped her.  "Very well," she said, feigning
disinterest.  "Go ahead and have your little speech."

"Thank you," he said, walking over to the lectern and taking his place
behind it.  Jessica reluctantly gave him space.

He looked out over at the crowd, seeing hatred for him in most of their
faces, hatred that Jessica had placed there.  They were expecting him to beg
for mercy, to throw himself upon them.  He did no such thing.  "You people
out there," he said, his voice tough, the voice he had used when addressing
suspects, "are pathetic."

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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