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Andrew Roller Presents
GIRL PATROL
Chapter Seven
We sat in the sun eating manna. Two more weeks had passed. We
were following the sun west. We had come to the banks of a great river; it
flowed below us, sparkling in the rising sun, seemingly like a mini-sea as
it went somewhere, we knew not where.
�Maybe we should build a boat,� Jan suggested, sitting in her police
uniform in the half-dead grass along the bluff.
�Or we could go swimming,� Becky suggested, hugging Cuddles and
her Magnum. We were aboriginals, I thought, gazing at the river as
unknowingly as any primitives, eating white flakes off the ground with
our bare hands.
�We could do a lot of things, I guess, as long as you girls manage to
keep the right ammo in your guns for whatever gets the nerve to attack
us,� I said. And that was about the long and short of it; Kim kept silver-
filled shells in her shotgun for the werewolves. Jan kept phosphorous in
her Uzi for the more numerous vampires. And little Becky, well, she
usually dropped her gun so we didn�t worry too much about her. Like I
said, if I wasn�t a nice guy I probably would have insisted on carrying her
Magnum, but she wanted to keep up with her companions and I didn�t have
the heart to make the littlest of the three girls sad. She was the
shortest, she had the smallest tits, and she still relied on a teddy bear for
emotional support. She didn�t need to be unarmed too. Anyway it was my
job to feed the right ammo to the girls in an emergency. It was an
important job; little Becky would have fumbled it for sure in a crisis. Did
wolves need silver or was that phosphorous, Becky had asked more than
once, asking for ammo for her own gun. The fact that she couldn�t say
�phosphorous� didn�t help much. Oh well we�d all taken to calling it
�phos�, but the fact remained that she would have been a poor ammo-
supplier. No, it was my job both to carry the ammo and keep it flowing to
the girls. Come to think of it my job was quite extensive; get the fire lit,
keep the matches dry, entertain the girls at night with my cock (oh well I
couldn�t complain about that). People in the olden days would have said
that I was somehow using the girls, but in fact I was a strong pillar of
their support. Without me Becky would no doubt have been teased by Jan
and Kim into disappearing; not to the best of fates, I�m sure. And who was
to say that Kim and Jan would have stayed together? Weren�t they trying
to get Becky to side with one or the other of them, when they weren�t
picking on her for being the youngest? No, it was my presence, the fact
that all three girls competed, in the end, to be most liked by me, and most
admired, that kept us together. In the end, when they were done bickering
and jousting with each other, they looked to me for approval and support.
And I provided it, loving all three equally and making sure that any spats
they had didn�t turn deadly. They were, after all, armed; all three of them.
Those guns that kept us safe could easily kill a human. It was my job to
make sure the guns kept pointing out, not in toward us. (Not literally, of
course, we�d had our share of �I�ll kill you if you say another word� gun-
pointing episodes.) But here we were, gazing down on a river that struck
me as being as big as the Mississippi, and I half-wondered if it might be
that old river, still flowing after so many years.
�Let�s cross it,� I said. �We�ll cut down a big tree and roll it down
the bluff. We can all climb onto it and float, and see where the river takes
us.�
�Yes!� Becky cried. She fired her Magnum into the air.
�Don�t waste bullets,� Kim said, as soon as the sound of Becky�s gun
had died away.
�Stupid,� Jan added.
�Now girls, let�s not fight,� I said. With mother-like disapproval I
looked at Becky and said, �Try to wait until we�re attacked again. Then
you can let loose all you want.�
��Kay,� Becky sighed. She pointed her Magnum at Cuddles and sat
back down in the grass. We were being attacked less; maybe word was
getting around that we were pretty good shots. God knows, in the first
weeks we�d certainly had plenty of practise. It was a wonder we were
still standing here. I gazed off at the plain across which we�d come.
Scraggly trees tried growing here and there, but mostly gave up. Were it
not for the manna and regular rainfall we might not have made it across
that sere landscape. Some big trees grew here, by the river. But what
would we use to cut them? Would we shoot a tree to get a nice log?
Perhaps we would find a log already fallen. I was contemplating the
possibilities, gazing back across the landscape we�d crossed, when
suddenly I saw them. Six or seven figures, all coming fast. They couldn�t
be vampires; it was daytime.
�Werewolves!� I suddenly shouted. I turned and looked down at the
river.
�Oh no!� Jan said, turning, seeing what I�d seen. Previously we�d
only ever encountered one wolf at a time. Word must indeed have gotten
around about us; they�d decided to gang up on us at last.
�Hurry!� Kim said. She rushed over to Becky and grabbed the girl�s
arm and pulled her to her feet.
�Cuddles!� Becky said, dropping both her gun and her teddy bear.
�I�ll get him!� I cried. I grabbed what Becky had dropped and hurried
down the bluff toward the river, Jan leading the way, Kim following close
behind with Becky. I couldn�t tell if the wolves had seen us; they would
catch our scent, no doubt about it, and search the whole bank looking for
us once they knew we were here. And then I heard it, out on the plain, a
crack like thunder. But there were no clouds in the sky. I turned and
looked back. One of the wolves had slowed. He was aiming something; a
rifle I realized as I looked at him. �Sweet Jesus!� I cried. The damn thing
had managed to arm himself. No wolf we�d ever met had been armed. Even
the vampires were at best only occasionally armed; we�d only met two.
Weapons were few and far between here in Strangeland, apparently. We�d
been extremely lucky to meet a well-armed Medium who�d so craved
knowledge about the past that she was willing to give three guns away.
�Hurry!� I yelled. We hustled more quickly down the bluff. Time was
running out. Frantically I searched among the dry underbrush for a fallen
tree. Anything to push us out into the water and get us away from the
wolves. Perhaps a better strategy would have been to stay and fight; I
considered it as we rushed down to the river bank. What should we do? It
was a harried choice we�d faced so often; six wolves! It was frightening.
Vampires were hard enough, but if you caught them the right way you
could blast through them. Shooting wolves was like trying to hit rabid
dogs. They were living things, tough and fast and ravenous. �What do you
want to do, girls? Stay and shoot it out or try to escape into the river?�
�The river! The river!� the girls answered in unison. And so that
was the strategy we chose, there under the hot-blazing sky. And I never
noticed, until later that day, that the sun had grown a deeper shade of red.
30
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