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Message-ID: <27900asstr$976839005@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Al Steiner" <steiner_al@hotmail.com>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 14 Dec 2000 15:50:08 EST
Subject: {ASSM} NEW: Aftermath by Al Steiner- Ch 8 (MF, voy) 2/2
Date: Thu, 14 Dec 2000 19:10:05 -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 2/2
Send all comments to steiner_al@hotmail.com
Previous chapters can be found at www.storiesonline.net




An angry outburst followed these words, an outburst that caused both
Michelle and Chrissie to bury their faces in their hands and wonder if he
knew what he was doing.

Brett, ignoring the outcry, simply went on.  "Look at yourselves," he told
them.  "Look at what you're doing, look at who you're following.  You people
are being led by the nose like fucking sheep by this manipulative bitch."

While the latest outburst sounded itself, Jessica stepped up towards him.
"That will be quite enough," she told him, grabbing at his arm.

"No," said Paul, grabbing at HER arm and pulling her back.  "Let him speak."

"But..."

"Let him speak," he repeated, loud enough for everyone in the building to
hear.  "It's about time someone told the truth around here."

"Here, here," said Michelle.

"I'm not here to apologize for my actions," Brett went on, his voice booming
through the speaker.  "I'm not here to beg for mercy.  If you people want to
vote me out of this town after I've had my say, then you're a lost cause
anyway and I'll be glad to go.  You'll all die soon and the human race will
be better off without you."

That got their attention.  The voices quieted down so quickly that it was
almost as if a switch had been thrown.

"People," Brett said.  "I've got some news for you all.  Perhaps you haven't
noticed this, but a fucking comet has struck our planet and wiped out almost
everything.  We are all that is left here, do you understand that?  We
aren't simply hanging in there until the National Guard gets its shit
together.  We're not just biding our time until the President diverts some
relief funds in our direction.  This planet is DEAD.  The civilization that
we grew up with and worshipped is DEAD.  There is nothing left but us and
the society that we make here.  There are people out there that would like
to kill us, that would like to take the meager food reserves that we have
left, but that is it.  All we have is what we can make or find.  There is no
help coming here.  We are ALONE and we are in the most dire of straights
imaginable!

"And what do you, the survivors of this disaster, the future hope of the
human race, what do you spend your time doing?  Do you spend it trying to
figure out ways to get food so that you can survive until the sun comes out?
Do you spend it trying to figure out ways to protect yourselves from those
that are starving and desperate?  No, you don't.  You spend your time trying
to pretend that you are all still high society women and looking down on
others.  You spend your time screwing each other at every turn, both
literally and figuratively, and then criticizing those who do the same
thing.  We don't have that many people in this town yet you have somehow
managed to perpetuate the petty prejudices that we used to hold so dear.
For God's sake people, what the hell are you doing?"

He looked at them all, disgust clearly evident upon his face.  No one
answered him or made a noise.  Not even Jessica.

"Do you people realize how STUPID you look from an outsider's perspective?
Do you realize that you've empowered a woman to lead you that has a
clear-cut psychological problem?  Why do you follow her?  Why do you listen
to her?  I've heard you talk about her ever since I've been here.  You call
her a bitch, you deride her for her superior attitude towards you, you agree
among yourselves that she is a callous, calculating person who is only out
for herself, but you follow her!  You cluster around her and try to impress
her because she comes across like she's better than you are.  And worst of
all, you LISTEN to her.  You know she's untrustworthy but you listen to her
and you pretend to agree with everything she says because everyone else is
doing it.  She has been playing you for fools probably since long before the
comet impact.  Look what you were just about to do because she riled you all
up.  You were just about to vote me out of town, to exile me to death out
there in the wilderness, and you were willing to do this without even
hearing my side of the story.  Everybody knows that Jessica exaggerates and
twists everything to suit whatever her viewpoint happens to be, yet you were
about to yell out aye to her vote, weren't you?  Weren't you?"

Brett could now see doubt showing on many faces before him.

"Shall I tell you my side of the story now?" he asked them.  "Shall I?
Would you like to hear a different version of how this attack came to take
five lives?  Would you like to hear a different version of how I molested
that young girl that lives with me?  Or should I just leave right now?  If
you are so led by her, if you are so convinced that I'm bad man that you
don't want to hear my side, just say aye.  If more than ten people say it,
I'll leave here right now, in the clothes that I'm wearing.  If just ten say
it!  So how about it?"

Not a single person said anything.  Not even Jessica, who was staring at him
in fear.

"Okay," he said, his voice dropping a little bit of the roughness.  "I can
see that I have your attention.  So let's talk.  Let's start with the
attack, shall we?  Now Jessica had the basic facts fairly accurate, but she
left out a few pertinent points.  The attackers came over the wall at two
o'clock this morning after they had observed our actions for the last few
days from the hill overlooking the northeast side of town.  Now I don't know
if any of you have ever bothered to go climb this particular hill, either
before the comet or after, but the view from up there is quite impressive.
You can see almost the entire northern wall.  You can see the freeway
approaches.  You can see damn near the entire subdivision itself.  And most
important of all, you can see all of the ground between the freeway and the
point where those invaders made their entry.  These invaders found that a
particularly fine place to observe us from.  It allowed them to gather the
intelligence that they needed to stage their attack.

"Now, it may interest you to know that I spotted this hill on my second day
here and that I identified it as the perfect place to move a guard position
to.  From atop this hill, our guards could not only engage any invaders long
before they reached the wall, they could see any invaders approaching long
before they got close enough to spot the wall.  I made a strong
recommendation that we construct and man a guard position there for that
very reason.  You see, I entered this town on the premise that I was
knowledgeable in security matters such as this and that my expertise would
be helpful.  I was under the impression that my suggestions would be taken
seriously.  However, Jessica voted down this recommendation.  Dale, who as
you know, votes however Jessica does, added his vote to the tally and the
suggestion was defeated."

"Dale does not vote the way that I do every time!"  Jessica shouted.  "Don't
think that trying to shift blame to someone who is wounded and unable to
defend himself in front of you is going to help you."

"Do you deny that you controlled Dale's votes?"  Brett asked her.

"Of course I deny it!" she yelled.  "Dale voted however he wanted."

"And strangely enough," Brett said, "the way he wanted was always the same
way that you wanted; in every single case since the committee was formed.
Don't bother trying to say differently, I've looked through the minutes of
every meeting that you've held.  268 times a vote has been called on a
matter, and 268 times, Dale voted exactly as you did."

Jessica was stunned again, unable to think of a way to counter what he was
saying.  It had not occurred to her that she was dealing with a man who was
very familiar with courtrooms and testifying, a man who knew how to sway a
group of people sitting in judgment over to his side.  That lack of insight
was now biting her in the ass.

"And such was the case with the matter of Hill 5107," Brett went on.
"Jessica and Dale voted it down.  Why?  Because Jessica didn't think that it
was wise to put the guard force outside of the wall.  Jessica has no
military training of any kind, but she didn't think it was wise.  I
explained to her that the basic principal of defense is to occupy the high
ground around your position, but she didn't change her mind.  I tried to be
as persuasive with her as I know how to be, but she refused to vote for my
suggestion because it was MY suggestion and I am someone that she doesn't
like.  And as such, Hill 5107 was unoccupied when our attackers decided to
use it to learn about our community.

"Nor was this the only matter that Jessica and Dale refused to vote for when
it came to security.  In all, and you can check these figures in the minutes
if you'd like, I requested a total of 33 separate improvements to the
community security apparatus.  33 times since I've been here, I've asked to
change something or improve something because, as I told you before, that is
supposed to be my job.  31 times Jessica and Dale voted no.  These were not
piddling things that I was suggesting either, but basic improvements that
would have prevented the invasion that we experienced today.  That is not
speculation on my part.  I can say with certainty that if I had been allowed
to do my job, those invaders would never had been allowed to even attempt a
reconnaissance of our town, let alone invade it."

"That is a lie!" Jessica shouted, standing up and pointing at him.

"Is it?" he asked.  "If you'd like, I can provide a list of each suggestion
and we can go over them one by one.  I'll hang a map up here on the board so
that everyone can see exactly what I'm talking about.  Would you like me to
explain to them Jessica, how I suggested weeks ago that we occupy Hill 4986
on the west side of town and how I showed you exactly why we needed to do
that?  Should I explain to them how such an occupation would prevent anyone
from approaching us from the north or the west?  I can go get the maps and
minutes right now if you'd like."

She said nothing, slowly sitting back down, her eyes daggers.

Brett turned back to the crowd, seeing that they were all staring at him in
shock.  "I don't like to lay blame," he told them.  "I really don't.  My
motto is to fix the problem, not the blame.  But if Jessica is going to
accuse ME of dereliction of duty, I am going to see to it that you people
have the facts before you cast judgment.  And the fact is that if I had been
allowed to place guards on those two hills as I wanted to, those invaders
wouldn't have tried us in the first place because they wouldn't have been
able to get close enough to even see how to go about an attack.  But let's
move on to the battle now, shall we?

"The penetration did take place and the invaders were able to get inside of
the wall at approximately 2:00 AM.  They hid alongside the houses next door
to the two guard posts and they planned to make their strike at 8:00 AM,
while we were all at breakfast.  Their intention was to take our food and to
kidnap at least one woman for each of them, and then leave."  He let that
point sit in the air for a moment.

"They were not able to do that because of one person.  Michelle Westover, at
guard position 2, spotted the attackers before they were able to throw in
their weapons.  She drew a sidearm and shot the first one, which in turn
caused his bomb to go off on the ground.  This, in turn, caused the second
one to miss and resulted in the deaths of both of them.  Since Michelle did
not allow her position to fall, she was able to radio ahead to me in the
community center and I was able, with the help of Matt and Paul, to get
somewhat of a defense together.

"Unfortunately, the guards at position number 3 were not so lucky.  I am
sure that rumors of what was going on in that position at the time of the
attack have reached you by now, but allow me to confirm them for you.  Jeff
and Lenny, who were supposed to have been watching out for intruders, were
engaged in a sex act with Mitsy when the bombs came flying through the
window.  All three of them were found naked and dead of organo-phosphate
poisoning - perhaps one of the most horrible ways on this earth to die."  He
stared at them all, looking from face to face as he said the words.  Most
showed horror at the thought, particularly those who were regularly assigned
to guard duty.

"I don't like to talk ill of the dead anymore than I like to lay blame,"
Brett continued.  "But those people died of stupidity.  They were having a
goddamn orgy while on guard duty.  They were doing this because they didn't
think that anybody was going to really attack us.  Many of you out there,
despite repeated pleas and threats from me, have done the same thing.  That
could just as easily have been you out there and don't for an instant try to
convince yourself that it couldn't have been.  It wasn't just that they were
fucking each other, don't try to say that it was just because of that.  It
was because they weren't paying attention to what they were supposed to be
doing."

"You folks that are regular guard duty draftees thought I was an asshole.
You used to call me names, deride me, sabotage my efforts.  When I would
walk up and try to instruct you on how to keep watch, you wouldn't listen to
me, you would flip me off behind my back, you would grab your crotch to show
your contempt for me.  Well Jeff, Lenny, and Mitsy used to do those things
too.  They thought I was an overbearing asshole too.  And now look at them.
They're still in the room where they died, covered with puke, urine, and
shit, and we're unable to move their bodies out because the fumes are still
too strong.

"I have stood on my head to try to get you people to take security
seriously, but you have consistently refused to do so.  I have begged and
pleaded with Jessica to try to improve security arrangements around here,
and she has consistently refused to do so.  And now that an attack has
occurred, an attack that I have been warning everyone about ever since I got
here, you want to believe that it is MY fault?  You listen to Jessica when
she tries to pin the blame for it on ME?"

He could sense a softening of their hatred for him now, a certain shame in
the tone of their murmurs, in the casting down of their eyes.

"Three people were shot in my group," Brett said next.  "Jessica took a
delightful glee in mentioning that a few minutes ago and comparing it with
the fact that no one was shot in Matt's group, who was battling twice as
many people.  Again, she implied that this was my fault somehow, that I
wasn't a strong enough leader during the battle.  And again, she is
distorting the facts and twisting them to suit her need.

"Those of you that were in my group, why don't you stand up right now."

There was some tittering but no one stood.

"Come on," Brett said, making get up gestures, "you ten that stood with me
this morning, that helped take out those assholes, that helped flush those
other assholes out of the trees, stand up.  You have a lot to be proud of
and I want the community to see you."

Gradually, one by one, they stood up, the seven women and three men of squad
Adams.  They looked nervously towards him, uncomfortable with being singled
out.

"Dale broke and tried to run when the shooting started," Brett said.  "That
was how he got shot.  You ten out there saw this as well as I did.  Do any
of you disagree with that statement?"

None of them disagreed with it.

"Jessica also broke and ran.  Now I've heard her telling people that she ran
to go get help for poor Dale, who she was so concerned about, but that's not
what happened.  She panicked and she ran despite my repeated yells to stay
down.  Does any one of you disagree with THAT?"

Again, though Jessica cried out in protest, none of them disputed this.

"The woman is supposed to be a leader broke and ran from a fight with four
people," Brett said sadly.  "The leader of the community did this.  So is it
any wonder that three other people, as soon as they saw her fleeing, tried
to do the same?  Not at all.  The thing is, Jessica escaped unharmed from
this cowardice act of panic.  Rick Stanton and Sheri Philo were not so
lucky.  Rick was shot in the back of the head.  He died immediately.  Sheri
was shot in the back of the leg.  She is now upstairs with a broken femur
and she may never walk again.  Those of you who did what I said and stayed
down are all here with us tonight, a little bit older and wiser, but alive
and uninjured.  Tell me," he asked his ten squad members, "do any of you
have any criticisms or problems with the way I directed that battle this
morning?"

None of them did.

"Does anybody out there, anyone besides Jessica, have a problem with the way
I responded to the situation?  Does anyone think that they could've done a
better job of it?"

Nothing but shamed silence from the crowd.

"And yet," he said, "you were all just about to throw me out of town,
weren't you?  My knowledge and training, my leadership abilities, SAVED this
pathetic town this morning, and you were going to throw me out of here.  And
for what?  Because I sleep with Chrissie, a sixteen year old girl?  Because
you find that act immoral?  Is that the reason?"

Some more titters from the crowd as they found themselves back on firmer
ground.

"I will gladly admit to you that I sleep with her," Brett said.  "Chrissie
and I are lovers!  Chrissie is now carrying my child in her!  It's true and
I am not ashamed of it, in fact, I'm proud to say it.  Now, I can hear you
out there calling her a child and damning me for being in a relationship
with her, but that child was an integral part of defending this town this
morning.  She killed two of the invaders herself and assisted in the final
trap that killed the last two of them.  She was the one that was able to
spot the fact that they had split into two groups and relay that information
to me so that I could respond to it.  I think that many of you out there are
displaying somewhat of a double standard towards Chrissie and Jason, her
brother.  You will allow them to stand watch for you and work twice as many
shifts as any of you do, you will allow them to carry guns and kill for you,
you will entrust them with your lives, but you don't want them to have
sexual relations?  What right do you have to deny this to them?  Chrissie
and Jason are both adults and they have both proven themselves time and time
again.  They have developed the maturity to make their own decisions and it
is not your place to dictate what they can and cannot do with their lives or
their bodies."

He softened his voice a little.  "Folks," he said, putting a pleading
expression on his face, "I'll go back to the first point that I made.  The
world is DEAD.  This town is all that we have left.  If you want your
children to grow up to be adults, if you want your grandchildren to be the
ones that build a new world, you'd better get your shit together right here
and right now.  If you keep obsessing about morals that are no longer
applicable and about rules of etiquette that don't matter any more, and
about social conventions that don't have any place any more, then you're all
going to die.  Because while you're going on and on about who is sleeping
with who and about how you don't think you should have to stand guard duty,
our food is running out and there are people out there with guns that would
be more than willing to come in here and take what they want.

"I am a survivor and I can help this town stand if you will listen to me and
follow my suggestions.  I can't guarantee that I'll bring us through and
that we'll all live another year, but I can assure you that I am an asset
towards that goal, not a liability.  If you don't think that is so, if you
don't think that you can live with my choice of sexual partner or partners,
then vote me out of here.  I'll leave and I'll find someplace else that will
appreciate what I've got to offer.

"That's all I have to say.  Take your vote now and send me on my way if
that's your wish."

With that he dismounted the podium.  He did not look at Jessica as he
passed.  He merely walked back to his seat and sat down.  Chrissie and
Michelle each took one of his hands in theirs.

"That was an awesome speech," Chrissie whispered.

"You never fail to amaze me Brett," Michelle put in.

Jessica, not quite as confident looking as she had been a few minutes
before, mounted the podium once more.   "Well I'll certainly give the man
credit for being dramatic," she said into the microphone.  "But that does
not change the central issue that we were talking about.  The fact remains
that he is a scoundrel that has abused our trust ever since he's been here
and that is a menace to our morality.  Keep in mind that..."

"Jessica," Paul said, standing up and walking over to her.  "I think that is
quite enough."

"What?" she said, looking at him furiously.

"Call the vote," he said.  "Don't bother trying to rile them up again, I
think they're beyond that now and all you're doing is making yourself look
like an idiot."

"How dare you talk to me like that," she said, turning on him, almost
forgetting that she was in front of the entire community.

He didn't answer her; instead, he pushed her to the side, taking her place
in front of the microphone.  "There's a motion on the floor people," he said
into it.  "The motion is whether or not to exile Brett Adams from this town.
I hope you'll vote wisely on it.  All in favor, say aye."

"Aye," yelled Jessica, loud and clear.  She was the only one.  She looked at
the crowd in disbelief.  "What is that matter with you people?" she screamed
at them so loudly that she didn't need the microphone.  "This man is a child
molester, a thief, and a sneak.  He does not belong here!"

Nobody said anything, they simply looked at her, their eyes open for perhaps
the first time.

"I would say that that does not constitute a two-thirds majority," Paul said
lightly.  "There will be no need to poll those that are on guard duty at the
moment."  He picked up Jessica's gavel.  "The motion is defeated."  He gave
a whack on the podium with it and then tossed it over his shoulder.  "Now
how about we take care of some real town business for once?  While we're
making motions up here, I'd like to move that Jessica Blakely be placed on
suspension from the town committee until such time that an investigation
into the charges of gross negligence can be completed."

"What?" Jessica yelled, grabbing him by the shirt and turning him towards
her.  "What the hell do you think you're doing?  You can't make a motion
like that!"

"Oh but I can," Paul said, springing shut the trap that Brett, the master
trap-layer, had set for her.  "Didn't this community just vote upon and
approve a resolution that allows them to vote upon and approve resolutions?
Didn't you just use that resolution to ask for a vote of exile against
Brett?"

"You can't use that against ME!" she said.

"Actually," he said, "I can.  However, like the exile clause, I'll made it a
two-thirds majority, just to be sure, okay?"

She looked at him in horror, feeling her world slipping out from underneath
her.  She could think of no way to counter what was about to happen.

"People," Paul said into the microphone.  "We have a motion on the table.
Do I have a second?"

The entire room, almost as one, cried out "second".

"The motion is seconded," Paul said.  "All in favor of suspending Jessica
Blakely from the town committee pending an investigation of gross
negligence, please say aye.   Two thirds majority will be required for
passing."

There was no point in doing a count.  The ayes were overwhelming.

"The measure passes," Paul said, looking at her.  "Jessica Blakely, you are
hereby suspended from the committee until such time as an investigation into
your actions is completed."

"You can't do this," she hissed, glaring at him with a hatred rarely seen.

"I didn't," he said.  "The community did it.  But even that isn't completely
true.  The fact is, you did it to yourself."


+++++

Jessica stormed out of the room a minute later, her face red with anger, her
hands clenched tightly into fists.  More than a little laughter and more
than one derisive comment followed her out.  Paul continued to chair the
meeting after her departure, utilizing the handy decree that she had had
voted in to get a few more things done.

In the space of twenty minutes he managed to pass every security suggestion
that Brett had made since arriving and authorized him to raise "whatever
work force is necessary" to initiate it.  He also empowered a panel of three
people: Matt, Maggie, and Michelle, to perform the complete investigation of
Jessica's activities in regards to her responsibility for the attack upon
the town and to report the results at a future community meeting.

"People," he told them just before calling an end to the meeting, "five
people died today in the attack upon our town.  Let's not let their deaths
be in vain.  As Brett told you a little while ago, we need to start
concentrating our energies on survival.  We need to stop worrying about
fighting with each other over men or work positions and start worrying about
how to get more food.  We need to stop wasting our time playing these
endless little games that we play and bothering ourselves with petty
preoccupations and start shoring up our defenses so that no one else dies a
needless death here.  Let the events of this morning be a wake-up call for
us and let's get our shit together, shall we?"

+++++


Michelle accompanied Brett and Chrissie back to the house that they shared,
Brett walking between the two women, their arms interlinked. Though they
would not be moving in to Michelle's house until the following day, all
three had agreed that it was important for them to show unity in the
decision they had made.  From now on they would all sleep under the same
roof.  They would be a triple.

Once inside the house, and once the lamps and the fire were lit and the rain
slickers were neatly hung up, they sat down on the living room couch.

"Chrissie and I had a long talk up in the hospital room today," Michelle
said.  "And we came to a few decisions about how we could work this
relationship.  Why don't we throw them by you?"

"Uh... sure," Brett said, looking from one to the other.  He could hardly
believe that he was about to hear two women tell him how they had worked out
how to share him.

"The most important thing is that we treat this as a marriage," Michelle
explained.  "We have to vow to honor and respect each other, through
sickness and health and all of that.  The only way that this can work is if
there's a mutual respect and affection between us, between all of us.  That
includes between Chrissie and I as well as between you and each one of us.
Just like married couples, we should vow that we never go to bed angry with
each other.  If we have a problem, and I imagine we will have them while we
try to get used to this, we work it out even if we have to stay up all
night.  How's that for a start?"

"I agree," Brett said.  "Julie and I had that same rule in our marriage.  We
stayed up all night a few times, but we always kept that promise to each
other.  I think it helped ease a lot of what could have been nasty battles
over the years.  The urge to put it behind you and get some sleep instead of
letting it linger eases negotiations."

"I've never been married before," Chrissie said timidly, "but it sounds like
a good idea to me.  Brett and I just had a long fight with each other and it
wasn't fun at all."

At Michelle's prompting, they all three officially made this promise to each
other, all three saying it aloud just like a marriage vow.  They then, at
Chrissie's suggestion, suggested they make a similar vow that they would
always discuss problems with each other as soon as they became problems,
getting them out in the open before they could fester.  They all agreed that
this was a noble thing and made the vow.  Other such things followed.  The
vowed loyalty to each other, they vowed to always work towards common goals,
they vowed to treat all children that the union produced as part of the
union, not as the daughter of Chrissie or the son of Michelle.  There was
surprisingly little argument or disagreement during the discussion, at least
not until the subject of future members of the union was broached.

"What?" Chrissie said, perhaps a little sharper than she had intended, when
Michelle first mentioned this.  "What do you mean, other women?  Where did
THAT come from?"

Brett wisely decided to keep a low profile during this particular portion of
the conversation, although the idea had already occurred to him.  Since
Michelle had brought it up, and since she seemed to be in reluctant favor of
such an idea, he let her handle the job of convincing Chrissie.

"I'm not saying that we should go out and pick up another couple of women to
join us," Michelle said, "but you have to keep in mind the simple math of
this town.  There are five women for every man.  It is simply inevitable
that these polygamous relationships that we are spawning here are going to
quickly grow to three and four women per man.  If we are to achieve
stability and relieve some of the sexual tension that exists here, I'm
afraid that that is the only way to do it."

"Four women?" Chrissie cried.  "We should share Brett with two other women?"

"If," she said, "we think that they will fit in with us and will maintain
the harmony of our family group, yes, I think we should.  I would think that
we would have to.  Of course Brett has got to have feelings for them and of
course you and I have to be able to get along with them."

Chrissie shook her head in bewilderment.  "I'm still trying to get used to
the idea of sharing him with YOU," she said, "and now you're talking about
adding two more?  That's too much to take right now Michelle.  We don't even
know if what we have now is going to work."

"It's just something to think about for right now Chrissie," she said.
"We'll take this thing one step at a time.  I just wanted to bring up the
fact that we may have to come to terms with this at some point in the
future."

Chrissie massaged her temples for a moment, as if trying to drive those
thoughts from her head.  "The possibility is noted," she said.  "Let's worry
about it in the future, can we?  I don't even want to think about it right
now."

"Fair enough," Michelle said with a smile.

They went over a few more minor points, such as division of labor in
housework and childcare, quickly reestablishing the harmony that had existed
prior to the additional members' discussion.  Once the mood seemed about
perfect, Michelle then got to the meat of the matter.  "Now," she said, "why
don't we talk about the sleeping arrangements."

"Here comes the good part," Brett said with a grin, prompting both women to
give him playful slaps on the arm.

"We talked for a surprisingly long time about this earlier," Michelle told
him.  "Not just the actual sleeping arrangements but the sexual aspects of
the relationship as well."

"And?" Brett said with anticipation.

Michelle and Chrissie shared an amused look.  "Men are pigs," Michelle said
lightly.

"Yep," Chrissie agreed.

"Okay," Michelle said, "first the sleeping arrangements.  We both agreed
that we want to have equal opportunity to sleep in a bed with you at night.
We both enjoy the closeness of having our man in bed with us.  Now we
discussed various ways to ensure equal billing in this department, as it
were, and we came to a few conclusions.  First of all, neither one of us
liked the idea of Chrissie having one bedroom and me having the other one
and you changing from one to the other from night to night.  In addition,
the bed in my spare bedroom is not large enough for two people anyway.  At
the same time, neither one of us are quite ready to climb three into a bed
at night either."

"Bummer," Brett said, feigning disappointment.  This prompted a few more
playful slaps to the arm by his women.

"So what we will do for the moment," Michelle went on, "is put you in the
King-size bed in the master bedroom.  You will sleep in this bed every
night.  Chrissie and I will alternate nights sleeping with you.  It will be
a night by night thing.  I get you on Monday night and she gets you on
Tuesday night and so on and so forth.  Jokes aside, does this sound like a
workable thing to you?"

"Yes," he said, putting the jokes aside as requested.  "That sounds like the
best way to go about it."

"Now the spare bedroom," she said, "will be just that.  It will be where the
woman who is not sleeping with you spends the night.  But remember, we are a
triple, and we should otherwise act like one.  The master bedroom belongs to
ALL of us.  That will be where we all keep our clothes, do our hygiene, our
dressing and undressing.  We need to drop the modesty around each other just
like a married couple would do.  We need to be able to be perfectly natural
around each other.  We are a triple, remember that."

"A triple," Brett repeated, trying to keep a serious expression on his face
while he contemplated the thought of two naked women walking around the
house at the same time.

"That's gonna be kind of weird," Chrissie said.  "I mean, what about going
to the bathroom and stuff?"

"It'll be just like being newlyweds at first," Brett said.  "When I first
moved in with my wife, it took a while before I was comfortable taking a
leak without closing the door first.  She was the same way.  Eventually, you
just get used to it, or you don't.  I mean, I got over the peeing thing, but
I never could take care of the other business without closing and locking
the door first.  If you don't want to pee with the door open, nobody's
forcing you to."

"Exactly," Michelle said.  "You do what you're comfortable with and what the
other people are comfortable with.  I myself would prefer it if Brett
continued to take care of "the other business" with the door closed.  I
honestly have no desire to see him in action for that particular activity."

"This conversation has taken a turn towards the disgusting," Chrissie said
with a scowl.

"Sorry," Michelle said, "but the whole point was that we should learn to be
comfortable around each other.  It doesn't have to extend to watching each
other defecate, but we should at least be accustomed to seeing each other
naked and getting dressed in the morning.  We should be accustomed to seeing
each other in our nightgowns and with our hair uncombed and with our legs or
faces unshaved.  You take the bad with the good, right?"

"Right," Brett said.  "Believe it or not, there's something undeniably sexy
about seeing the woman you live with in a ratty nightgown or a pair of
sweats, her make-up off, her hair all roached.  You're seeing her as no one
else does."

Chrissie looked at him in abject disbelief, but said nothing.  Michelle
however, took that as her opening to bring up the next subject.  "Which
brings us to the matter of sex," she said.

Right on, Brett did NOT say.  He simply assumed a politely interested
expression, as if he had not been waiting for this subject to come up all
night.

"Now the simple fact of the matter," Michelle said, "is that while this is
going to be the easiest aspect of the relationship for you Brett, it is
going to be the hardest for Chrissie and I.  All of these other things are
almost inconsequential when it comes to jealousy and envy and all that.  But
with sex, that is where the problems are going to rear their heads I think.
It's going to be hard for both of us to know that you are having sex with
the other one since that is, whether we women want to admit it or not, a
major basis of any relationship."

"So what is the answer?" Brett asked.  "Does only the woman whose turn it is
to sleep with me that night get to have the sex for that twenty-four hour
period?"

"That is one solution," Michelle said, "but Chrissie and I both agreed that
it probably wouldn't work very well and would possibly make the problems
worse.  What if you aren't horny on the night that it's my turn?  That kind
of stuff happens.  And what if you ARE horny the next night and have sex
with Chrissie.  That could very well lead to feelings of insecurity on my
part.  Why is he sleeping with Chrissie and not with me?  Does he like her
better?  That equation could work both ways.  What if Chrissie is not in the
mood when it's her turn and then I'm not in the mood the following night
when it's my turn but Chrissie is?  So then you'd have Chrissie in one room
wanting some love and Brett in another room wanting some love and Michelle
next to Brett not wanting to give any up.  If we start trying to structure
our sex lives, we're going to have trouble."

"Okay," Brett said.  "I agree with your reasoning.  But you haven't told me
what the answer is."

"There is no answer," she said.  "That is what the answer is.  Sex is
supposed to be a very special thing in a relationship and it should occur
when it occurs in whatever manner the participants want it to occur.
Chrissie and I agreed that we should not put any rules or restrictions on
the sex part.  Whenever you and one of us decide that sex is the thing to
do, than do it, no matter whose turn it is to sleep with you."

"So whatever feels good, do it?" Brett said, liking that idea a lot.

"Basically," Michelle said.  "There should be a few - let's not say rules,
but guidelines."

"Guidelines?" Brett asked.

"For lack of a better term," Michelle said.  "First of all, you, as the man,
should try as hard as you can not to favor one or the other of us.  I'm not
saying that you should keep careful track of how many times you make love to
each one of us or anything, but do try to spread it out."

"You've got two women to satisfy now," Chrissie said, nudging him a little.
"Don't forget about one of us."

"I can handle that," Brett assured them.

"And another thing," Michelle went on, "is that the sex that takes place
should not be secretive.  Remember that we're a triple and we should not be
ashamed of what we do.  We should try to be open about what we do in here,
especially among ourselves.  Both of us girls are going to have to get used
to sharing you and perhaps the best way to do that is that it not be
hidden."

Now Brett was a little confused.  "So are you saying that we... uh... do it
in front of each other?"  This was not a particularly unpleasant thought.

"Well... I'm not saying that you should throw Chrissie down on the coffee
table right there in front of me and start putting it to her, at least not
at first.  However, if I need to come in and get my pajamas out of the
bedroom and you two are in there making love, it shouldn't be a problem.  Or
if we're sitting here after dinner and you and I suddenly have the urge to
make love, Chrissie shouldn't have a problem if we just kind of get up and
go find a place to do our business.  I suspect that as this relationship
goes on, we will probably shed a lot of our inhibitions and work our way to
the point that we WILL be making love in front of each other without
embarrassment.  In fact, if the truth be known, I find the very thought to
be somewhat exciting."

Chrissie said nothing but blushed furiously, indicating that she found that
thought exciting as well.

"This is going to be QUITE an experiment," Brett said, looking from one of
his women to the other.

"What happens," Chrissie asked Michelle, "if BOTH of us... you know... want
some at the same time?  I'm sure that that will happen from time to time."

Michelle smiled.  "That's one that we'll just have to work out when it comes
up, won't we?"


+++++


Dale died at 7:30 that night.  There were no dramatic last words, no brief
instant of awareness, he simply died, his breathing coming to a halt as his
body, suffering from severe hypovolemic shock, finally gave up the battle to
keep delivering oxygen to his brain.  Paul watched him go, feeling helpless
and impotent at his inability to do anything to prevent it.  He covered him
up with his sheet and then simply sat there, staring at the covered corpse
while Sherri snored away behind him.

He did not know how long he stayed that way but finally Janet's voice,
gently calling his name, stirred him from his trance.  He turned and beheld
her standing in the doorway, her pretty face framed by her short black hair.

"Hi babe," he said softly, standing up and walking over to her.

"Is he gone?" she asked, casting a look over at the bed.

"Yeah.  Just a few minutes ago.  He never really had a chance."

"You did what you could," she said, putting her arms around him, offering
him what comfort she could.

"Which wasn't a lot," he said bitterly.

They held each other in the doorway for awhile, neither one speaking.
Gradually, he began to feel a little better.  Just a little.

"Are you going to sleep here tonight?" she asked him.

"Yes.  Sherri might need me.  I'm the only medical person we have.  Never
thought that me and my EMT card would be able to say that."

"Do you want me to stay with you?" she asked.  "I can go get us a couple of
cots out of the supply room.  Maybe give you a hand if you need it?"

He smiled at her, giving her a kiss on the nose.  "That would be nice," he
said.  "I could use a little company.  You get the cots, I'll move Dale into
the supply room."

Thirty minutes later, the cots had been moved in and placed on the far side
of the room and Dale was zipped into a sleeping bag and in storage.  When
Paul returned from washing up he found Janet had spread two sleeping bags
out and was lying atop of them.

They held each other, enjoying the closeness, and whispered back and forth,
talking of the events of this most amazing day.  She told of how terrified
she had been, cowering with children in the breakfast room while the sound
of gunfire popped continuously from just outside.  He told her of his horror
when he saw the condition of the wounded for the first time, as he realized
that he was not equipped to deal with what had happened.  Gradually, after
exercising the demons of the day (partially anyway), their talk turned to
the meeting that night.

"I feel ashamed of myself now," Janet told him.  "I can't believe that I was
just as ready to vote Brett out of town as everyone else was.  I let myself
be led by Jessica.  Just like Brett said, I was a fucking sheep."

"Don't feel bad," he told her.  "You weren't the only one.  Jessica is an
expert at twisting people's opinions to match her own.  Especially when it's
something that we were all taught to be opposed to in the first place."

"I'm still not sure how I feel about it," she said.  "I mean sixteen is
awfully young.  But I can also see Brett's point.  Who are we to let
Chrissie kill for us and then turn around and tell her she's not allowed to
have an adult relationship with someone?  After all, SHE was out there
fighting for us and I was in here huddled with a bunch of kids and peeing my
pants."

"Brett does have a way of convincing people when he wants to, doesn't he?"

"He has a way of making us take a look at who we are," she corrected.  "At
least he does if we bother to listen to him.  What do you think is going to
happen to Jessica now?"

"She'll be kicked off the committee," he said without hesitation.  "I've
been complaining about her vote stacking this entire time..."

"I know you have."

"Yes, I guess I did dump that on you a lot, didn't I.  But anyway, now that
it's become an official issue, now that there is something tangible, like
deaths and invasions, to hang upon it, she's gonna go down.  When everybody
gets a good look at all of the things she's voted against just because she
didn't happen to like Brett, or because of some other petty issue... well...
we're talking about Watergate here.  She's finished."

Janet smiled a little.  "I can't say I'll be sorry about that."

"Me either."

Silence ruled for the next few minutes as they continued to lay there with
their arms intertwined.  "Did you hear the latest?" Janet finally asked.

"No, what might that be?"

"Well, the rumors about Brett and Chrissie moving in with Michelle were
apparently correct.  They all three went back to Brett's house together,
walking arm in arm no less."

Paul sighed, wishing for a cigarette.  "I wish they would have given
everyone a few more days before they sprang this.  Freakin' polygamous
relationships?  Can you believe it?"

"Actually," she said slowly, "I can.  I'm afraid that it makes a lot of
sense given the circumstances."

He looked at her as if she was mad.  "What?"

"Surprised I would say that huh?" she said, a strange smile upon her face.
"Believe me, I never would have thought I'd ever speak in favor of such a
thing.  It goes against everything I believe in about marriage and
relationships.  When I first heard that they were intending to do that this
afternoon, I was outraged.  Two women living with one man?  Absurd."

"But you don't feel like that now?"

"It's better than the alternative that we are living with," she said.

"The alternative?" he asked, feeling he was treading on shaky ground.

"Let's speak freely Paul," she said, pulling back from him a little and
giving him a serious look.  "You're a good man, a caring man, and I love you
a lot, even more, I think, than I loved my husband before the comet.  But I
know that I'm not the only one that you've slept with."

Paul looked at her aghast.  Had he really thought that she knew nothing
about his little trysts?  He really had.  And did assuming that seem a
ridiculous notion now?  Yes it did.

"I understand," she said.  "Really, I do.  I don't think that a normal man
was meant to withstand the kind of pressure that we have in this town.  It
hurt a little, knowing you had done that, but, strangely, in a way it made
me love you even more."

His jaw dropped a little more.  "Uh... how is that?"

"Because you TRY not to," she said.  "You give in to the temptation on
occasion, that is true, but you're not like most of the other men in town.
You don't have three other women that you're stringing along with promises
that you're going to leave me soon.  You haven't dumped me and made someone
else your official companion.  You TRY to be faithful in an environment
where it's probably impossible.  But you see, it does hurt to have you
sneaking around on me.  That will always hurt any woman no matter what the
circumstances."

"What are you saying?" he asked her.

"I'm saying that maybe Michelle and Brett and Chrissie have the right idea.
Maybe having more than one woman would keep you from straying and sneaking.
Now I'm not saying that you should go out and drag someone home right now,
but... well, if there was someone that we both could get along with... I
would rather we... you know... have it official and in the open than have
you seeing her on the sly."

Paul looked at his woman in amazement.  He had thought that the day had
given up all of the surprises that it had to offer.  Apparently he had been
wrong.


+++++


A candle burned on each side of the bed, imparting a soft, romantic glow
upon the bedroom.  Brett was naked, his erection sticking out rigidly before
him, his hands sliding over the soft firmness of Michelle's breasts.

"Mmmm," she purred, her hands covering his, her lips kissing his neck.
Moisture dripped from her sex, the odor permeating the air.

The trio had decided, after an absurdly long conversation in which both
women tried to out-kind the other, that Michelle would have the honor of
sleeping with Brett on this first night.  Chrissie had finally demanded it.
"Let's just get this over with," she'd said.  "Brett, take her in there and
fuck her right now.  Then this will all be real, then I'll HAVE to accept
it."

And so he was doing what he had been told, with Michelle's enthusiastic
cooperation.  It felt very strange to be naked with Michelle, in the same
bed that he had shared with Chrissie, while Chrissie was in the very same
house and not only knew about it, but had told them to do it.  The knowledge
was strangely arousing in a way that was part guilt, part glee.

"Suck them Brett," she moaned, moving her hands from his up to his head.
She gently pushed downward.  "I love my titties sucked."

He kissed his way down her neck and across her shoulder, his tongue tasting
her salty flesh.  He moved down, burying his face in the valley between her
twin globes, feeling the firmness enfold his cheeks as her fingers twined
through his hair.  Finally he circled in on the target, sliding his tongue
around the aureole of her right breast a few times before capturing the
rigid nipple between his teeth.  He began to suckle.

"Ohhhh, yesss," she moaned, her hands dropping down to his back, enjoying
the delicious sensation coursing through her.  From her position on the bed
she was able to see the door to the bedroom, which she had purposely left
slightly ajar.  She could see nothing on the other side of the small gap
since the rest of the house was darkened, but she had a feeling that someone
was there all the same.


+++++


Chrissie sat on the couch for as long as she could stand, thinking about
what was going on in the bedroom just fifteen feet away.  She did not know
how she should feel.  Her emotions were locked in a turmoil of shame,
jealousy, disgust, and sharp, undeniable sexual arousal.  She could not deny
this last sensation, could not even pretend that it was something else.  Her
nipples were hard little points against her shirt.  Her vagina was leaking
so much lubrication that it almost felt like she'd peed in her panties.

"My god," she thought breathlessly, wondering if she was perverted or not,
"I'm getting turned on thinking about Brett and Michelle making love."  This
realization only served to arouse her more.  Her arousal served to make her
feel guiltier, and more disgusted with herself, which in turn served to
accent the jealousy.  Never in her life had she experienced such a
conflicting mix of feelings.  Never had she even imagined such a thing.

She stared from the darkness of the couch towards that small glow of light
coming through the crack in the bedroom door.  She heard Michelle say "suck
them Brett, I love my titties sucked," and she couldn't stop a groan from
leaving her mouth.  She began to twist and squirm on the couch, crossing and
uncrossing her legs, her fingers twining together restlessly in her lap.
She let her index finger slide slowly across her crotch and she felt heat
and dampness emanating from the blue jean material that covered it.

Finally, she could take it no more.  Maybe it meant she was sick, maybe it
meant she was a disgusting peeping tom, but she HAD to see what was going on
in there.  She HAD to.

She got up slowly, her breathing heavy, her nipples aching, and made her way
through the darkness towards that small strip of light that marked the
doorway.  Why had that door been left open?  Why were there still candles
burning in the room?  Didn't Michelle and Brett have the decency to close
the door while they were... while they were... making love?  Especially if
they were going to leave the lights on?  Had it been deliberate?  Had they
WANTED her to hear them, to see them?  And if so, WHY?

She crept quietly, feeling like a criminal, telling herself to just keep
walking until she got to the spare bedroom, to go in there, slam her door,
and put a pillow over her head.  Intellectually she knew that she should do
just that.  But she didn't.  She was drawn towards the door like a magnet.
When she reached it, she peered through the four-inch gap, at first seeing
nothing but the dresser and the nightstand.  A slight adjustment of the
angle however, and she was looking at the bed and the two naked bodies upon
it.

Michelle was lying on her back, her brown hair cascading over a pillow, her
feet facing towards Chrissie.  Brett was lying partially atop her, on his
stomach, his mouth fastened to her right breast, his tongue and lips working
it over.  His right hand was between Michelle's widely spread legs, the
fingers probing through her black curls, sliding slowly in and out of her
vagina while her hips moved gently up and down to the rhythm.  It was an act
of foreplay that Brett often did to her when they were making love and she
knew how good it felt, how crazy it could drive her.  Seeing it done to
Michelle now, looking at it from the perspective of an observer instead of a
participant, made her draw in a sharp gasp of air.  She stared at his
fingers going in and out of her, watching as her glistening lips pushed and
pulled with the intrusion and retreat.  She felt a fresh pang of jealousy
stabbing through her heart.  At the same time, she felt a fresh gush of
moisture between her legs, felt the hardness of her clit pushing against the
cotton of her panties.

When Brett left Michelle's breast behind and began to kiss his way down her
stomach, Chrissie's knees began to tremble.  Suddenly his head was between
those well-muscled legs as he began to eat her.  Michelle moaned loudly at
the first contact, her hands pulling forcefully at his head, drawing him in
tighter.  Chrissie moaned as well, unaware that she was even doing it,
unaware that Michelle had clearly heard her.

Though Chrissie had never before masturbated outside of the privacy of her
own bedroom with the door locked, her fingers reached for the buttons on her
jeans.  She practically ripped them open and shoved them down to mid-thigh,
pushing her panties down with them.  She was able to smell the odor of her
own musk, a sharp, wet tang that made her nostrils flare.  As she continued
to watch Brett orally pleasuring another woman, she put her fingers on her
wet slit and began to rub, moaning again at the contact.

By the time that Michelle began to buck up and down on the bed and cry out
in orgasm, Chrissie was panting, her fingers drenched in her own juices,
waves of pleasure spreading throughout her body.  When her own orgasm hit
her - striking with the speed and force of a lightening strike - her knees
buckled and she nearly fell down.

"Now fuck me," Michelle demanded, pulling Brett upward.  "Oh god, fuck me
now!"

Chrissie moaned again, her fingers continuing to move, starting another wave
of pleasure in motion.  She watched Brett push Michelle's legs back, watched
his buttocks sway back and forth as he positioned himself against her.  Her
hands grabbed those buttocks, her nails biting into them, and suddenly, he
sank down upon her, both of them groaning in sheer pleasure.  His ass, the
ass she loved so much, began to rise and fall, slowly at first, but rapidly
picking up the pace, a wet squish reaching her ears with each motion.

Chrissie's fingers became a blur once more, her juices running over her
hands and she dropped to her knees next to the door, no longer able to hold
herself up.  She did not miss so much as a stroke as she fell, did not take
her eyes off the action on the bed for so much as an instant.


+++++


Brett was thrusting in and out of her, feeling the exciting clench of her
muscles against his cock, touching the softness of her skin anywhere that
his hands could reach.  He was panting as he kissed her neck, her shoulder,
occasionally dipping down to give a nipple a wet slurp.  He became
reacquainted with the fact that Michelle, somewhat in contrast to Chrissie,
had a very vocal and profane tongue during sex, particularly when she neared
orgasm.

"Yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me HARDER," she nearly shouted into his
ear between licks and bites at his earlobes.  Her fingernails scratched
almost painfully both upon his ass and his back.  He pounded in and out of
her with increasing force, grinding his pubis into her.  And then he heard a
distinct moan coming, not from Michelle, but from behind them, from the
other side of the doorway, audible even over all of the noise that Michelle
was making.

Was Chrissie watching them?  He had noted that the door had been left
slightly ajar, had been about to close it in fact, while he and Michelle had
been shedding their clothes.  In the excitement of the initial touches he
had put it out of his mind, but now it came back to him.  Michelle had
deliberately left that door open, had purposely kept the candles lit, and
now Chrissie was watching them in their act of copulation, was moaning as
she watched.  He had a sudden mental image of her standing back there
playing with herself, putting her fingers in and out of her pussy.  Was she
really doing that?  Was she?  Why else would she have moaned?  That had not
been a moan of pain or anguish, it had been of pleasure.

"She's watching," Michelle whispered breathlessly, just loud enough for him
to hear.  "She's back there watching us."  She did not seem the least bit
bothered by this.  In fact, it seemed to drive her on.  Her hips began to
push back against his thrusts with a little more power.  Her hands moved
back and forth upon his sweaty back with a little more speed.  And, though
he wouldn't have thought it possible, her pussy seemed to get a little
wetter around his cock.

"Uhhh," Brett grunted, incapable of speech.

"It's exciting," she whispered, her wet tongue sliding into his ear.  "Isn't
it?"

"Yesss,"

"Oh yesss," she said, now biting at his neck.

She came a minute later, screaming out guttural profanity at the ceiling,
her fingers raking scratches in his back.  He was right behind her, his
lower regions exploding with pleasure for the third time that strange day.
As he poured himself out into Michelle's body he heard the high-pitched
squeals of Chrissie from the doorway, squeals that he knew intimately meant
she too was coming.


+++++


As Brett and Chrissie collapsed into a naked, sweaty heap, as they shared
the deep, loving kisses that men and women shared in the afterglow of
lovemaking, Chrissie slowly pulled her fingers from her slit.  She too was
panting and slightly damp from perspiration, her heart hammering in her
chest, her muscles twitching from the effects of three rapid orgasms.

Slowly she got to her feet.  With shaking hands she pulled her pants and
underwear back up, not bothering to refasten the buttons.  Shuffling along
in the darkness, she made her way to the spare bedroom, where she removed
all of her clothes and lay down in the bed.

She thought that it would be a long time before she would get to sleep.  She
thought that she would lay awake most of the night being tormented by the
thoughts of Brett and Michelle, being wracked by guilt and self-disgust for
having watched them in their intimate act.

So thinking, she drifted almost immediately to sleep, her nipples still
hard, her sex still leaking moisture.  Her dreams were filled, not with
images of death and destruction brought on by the events of earlier in the
day but of erotic images of pleasure brought on by the events of later.


+++++


Brett, in contrast, thought he would go immediately to sleep once he rolled
off of Michelle and cuddled up in her arms.  Fatigue pulled at him strongly,
both from his bout of sexual congress and from the many and varied stresses
of the past day.  Indeed his body WANTED desperately to go to sleep, but his
mind stubbornly refused to let him.

This might have been understandable had he lay awake agonizing over his new
relationship with two women, or over the deaths in the town, or over the
possibilities of future invasions.  But that was not what he kept thinking
about.  For some reason that he could not put his finger on, he could not
get the image of Paul out of his mind, specifically Paul as he had looked at
that moment after the battle when he had first been given report that the
town was secured.

He would try to shut his mind off, would try to think of something else, but
again and again, he would see Paul in the make-shift hospital room,
agonizing over the three victims he was caring for.  He would hear Paul
express his hopelessness at the situation and at the fact that he was all
that they had for a doctor.  "Back before the comet when me and my fire-crew
responded to shit like this, they didn't die," he heard Paul say again and
again.  "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."

Why was this seemingly meaningless moment in time coming back to him again
and again?  Why, while he was laying against a naked woman on his first
night of a polygamous relationship, were these words haunting him?  He
didn't know, could not figure it out.  Eventually, more than two hours after
the sweat dried on his skin, while Michelle was breathing the deep and
regular pattern of solid sleep, fatigue got the upper hand and he started to
drift off.

It was as the last vestiges of consciousness were slipping away, as the
final power plug of waking thought was being pulled, that it hit him.  In a
flash, his eyes flew open and he sat up, moving so abruptly that Michelle
groaned and thrashed for a moment next to him.

"Son of a bitch," he whispered, wondering why he hadn't thought of it
earlier.  Could it be possible?  Could it?  Probably not, he was forced to
conclude.  He was probably chasing a pipe dream at best.  But if there was
the slightest possibility...

He tried for a few minutes to go back to sleep, intending to talk to Paul
first thing in the morning, but now that the thought had entered his mind,
he could not get it out, would not be able to until he knew the answer.

A moment later he was up and putting on his clothes in the darkness.  Paul
would be over at the community center, caring for his patients.  He would
just go ask him.

He nearly sprinted the short distance, his feet splashing through puddles,
his breath tearing in and out of his throat as he followed a flashlight beam
through the streets.  At the front door of the community center the night
guard, Mike Harris, nearly shot him when he saw an unexpected figure
approach.

"Sorry Mike," Brett told him excitedly, "didn't mean to scare you."

"It's not too hard to do after today," he said, reholstering his pistol with
a shaky hand.  "What are you doing out here this late?  Is there trouble?"

"No trouble," Brett said, walking past him and opening the front door.  "I
need to ask Paul something.  Is he still in there?"

"Yeah, or at least he hasn't come out this door."

"Cool, I'll just be a minute."  He rushed into the darkened building, his
flashlight illuminating his path, his feet squeaking.  He made turns and
went down hallways until he reached the opened door of the supply room where
the patients were being kept.

As he entered it, a part of his mind noted that Dale was no longer there,
which could only mean one thing.  He dismissed that for the moment, his
concern with other things.  Sherri was still deeply asleep and didn't so
much as stir when his light invaded the darkness, but Paul, and Janet who
was sleeping next to him, both jerked up in alarm.

"What?  Who is it?"  Paul barked as Janet clutched at him.

"It's Brett," he said, lowering the beam so that it wasn't shining directly
in their eyes.  "Sorry to wake you us."

"What's wrong?"  Paul asked fearfully.  "Is something going on?"

"No," Brett replied.  "No trouble, nothing like that.  I just needed to ask
you a question."

Paul looked at him as if he were insane.  "You came barging in here in the
middle of the night to ask me a QUESTION?"

"Sorry," he said, walking over and sitting on a chair near their bed, "but
it's a very important question potentially.  Something you said earlier
today has been nagging at me all night and I just figured out why.  Now that
I figured it out, I have to know.  I won't be able to sleep until I know."

"Until you know what?"  Paul asked, quite exasperated.  "I have no idea what
you're talking about."

"No," Brett said, calming himself a little, "I guess you don't."  He took a
deep breath, now afraid to ask because he might get an answer that he didn't
like.  But he had to.  "Earlier today, when I was in here talking to you
right after we finished securing the town, you told me that when you had
people injured like that, you used to just fly them to a hospital in Reno or
Sacramento."

"Well, yeah," he said.  "We're way out in the middle of nowhere here, at
least as far as hospitals are concerned.  The closest trauma center is
either Roseville hospital outside of Sac or Washoe Medical Center in Reno."

Brett shivered a little in excitement.  "Where," he asked carefully, "was
the helicopter that flew them based at?"




Al Steiner
12-14-00
Send all comments to steiner_al@hotmail.com
Previous chapters can be found at www.storiesonline.net
Chapter 9 to follow.

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