Chapter 40

“Crazy glue? Really?” I chuckled as I focused my field glasses on the bonded band of mutually masturbating men crab-walking westward. “Your punishment is diabolical.” I shook my head in puzzled amazement. “Intruders were killed in the past for less, so why the sudden mercy?”

“Not compassion. Karma. What goes around, comes around.” Sheila trained her spyglass on the retreating men. “They should make town by sundown. If they cooperate.”

“Karma?” I inquired.

“Yeah, Karma. We can run, but we can’t hide. Karma gets us in the end, and we receive what we deserve.” Sheila lowered her Steiner binoculars and returned them to the case hanging from her hip.

“Nice one.” I glanced at the hard-leather case. “High-quality military-grade optics are priceless. We’ll not see its match in our lifetimes.”

“Exactly. Being able to see further with more clarity than the other guy is a big plus in the game of survival.” The Commander snapped the lid of the case closed.

Karma, if we are to believe such nonsense, is the universe’s way of keeping score. As we sow, so shall we reap; an old and new testament theology with a Hindu flavor.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” I lowered my glasses and reached for a smoke. “Fitzwater hates same-sex lovers. He’s a jerk who gets off violating bisexual women. He’s earned the right to retribution.” I chuckled at the erections the men were growing.

“His mind must be a mess; his homophobic hand welded to the prick of his gay-bashing buddy. Those boys can’t move without stroking each other. Poetic justice in a daisy chain of mutual involuntary masturbation,” she laughed.

Sheila played with words like a cat with a mouse before breaking into a modified off-key rendition of the old classic by the Police: “Every move you make, every step you take, he’ll be wanking you.”

“I would love to be a fly on the wall when they return home and try to explain how they came to be as they are,” the Commander mused without joy.

“Crap like that makes me embarrassed to be a man. They’re traitors to their sex,” I said.

Sheila hugged my shoulder. “They were more true to their chromosomes than you are to yours.”

“Since our mothers swung down from the trees, we’ve lived in a world where the male spreads his seed at will. ‘No’ was never an option for the females of our species. At least not until we evolved. As a race, we’ve been firing on half of its cylinders for much of our existence. We fail to evolve when one gender or another is ignored at the cost of the other. We are one people. We need one another, whether we like it or not.”

“You evolved. They haven’t.” Sheila pointed to the clump of men as they vanished from sight over the distant hill at the far end of the granite ridge.

“Those boys never got the memo.”

“I sent ‘em a message with my method. Perhaps they’ll learn. Likely they won’t. But I’m sure they’ll think double before screwing with us again.”

“And if they don’t?” I asked.

“Then we need to return home and put our house into order. We’ll be on our way in fifteen minutes.”

“Speaking of together, I gotta see Darlene and Seraina. I’ve been worried sick about them,” I said before the leader held me back.

“Tread lightly. They don’t want to be touched by anyone. Especially a man. Give them space and love, Sky. They’ll come around.”

Since the liberated horses set the pace for our homeward journey, Belinda and I changed our tactics from leapfrog to hurry-and-catch-up. We rode from one objective to another and didn’t move until our comrades were in view.

Afternoon rain showers had left the mid-summer sky in chaos as the cool air of the passing cold front collided with a warm surging air-mass from the Gulf of Mexico. Clouds of every type raced the wind across the verdant indigo-blue sky arching above us like the cathedral of creation. Wispy white cirrus clouds painted the gates of heaven with swirls of mist, while fast forming and quickly vanishing stratus clouds danced between the summits and the valleys below.

“My Lord! Have you ever seen anything like this?” Belinda whispered as she bent her head and leaned slightly backward as we gazed upward at the sun-lit top of the billowing cloud tower a few miles to the south of us.

With more nooks and crannies than an English muffin, the face of the misty giant glowed brightly against the pastel blue-gray shadow canyons carved into the contours of the thunderhead.

“Only in the movies. It is stunning.” I lifted my eyes skyward in reverent appreciation and gratitude. “It’s good to be alive, specifically after this morning’s meet-and-greet.” I hunched down with my hand shielding the tip of my cigarette and sparked my lighter into life. “Let’s take a break, my back is killing me, and my butt hurts.”

I used the brim of my fedora to sweep the sand and gravel from a small patch of ground and sat down. I groaned with relief as I leaned back against a sofa-sized chunk of weathered stone and draped my rifle across my knees with the muzzle facing away from my partner.

“Got an extra?” Belinda asked as she sat next to me and pointed to her mouth and pretended to smoke.

“Bad for your health; how about some weed for a change?”

I stubbed out my cigarette and passed her the torch along with one of my pre-rolled cannabis cigars. I needed to relax, and nicotine wasn’t cutting it. Belinda eyed the blunt with suspicion, and I thought she would decline my invitation. Instead, she peeped down the trail for any signs of the sisterhood, smiled and said, “What the hell. Why not?” before she touched the flame to the end and took a toke that would make Willie Nelson proud.

“Ya know something? Back there, you did okay for an old man, Sky.” Frosty stroked my back as she handed me the glowing cigar.

“Thanks, you’re too kind, but I don’t think so,” I said as I shook my head in disbelief. “Waiting for them to clear the crest, I was so scared I thought I would piss myself.” I shuddered at the memory of fear.

“You did good enough to get the job done, and that’s what we needed when you distracted them long enough for us to the get the drop on them,” she said as her mouth bent into a smile. The thin dimpled crease of a scar across her lips accented every expression with a mirror image. Smiles seemed to be happy frowns and frowns looked like misplaced grins. She smiled and took the smoldering joint from my fingers.

“Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

I returned her smile with a hug. I hadn’t been brave in my deeds. I had simply forgotten to be afraid.

“My pleasure. We work well together,” Belinda grinned.

For the next several minutes we silently shared the mega-joint. Sometimes more is said when nothing is spoken.

“Where do I sit?” I asked Sheila as I leaned against the door frame at the entrance to the meeting hall and surveyed the room.

“What do you mean? Why do you ask?” The Commander gave me a perplexed look.

“At the last meeting, you told me I was to be reassigned and would no longer be your assistant, what is my status?” I studied Sheila’s face and tried to read her thoughts.

“You’re in the Society. Do what needs to be done,” my boss replied.

“A less than useful answer, don’t you think? I hate riddles; just tell me what it is YOU want me to do, I’ll take it from there.” I tapped a cigarette from my pack and lit-up. Halfway in and partway out of the meeting room, no one was nearby to give me grief over secondhand smoke.

“Ditch the smoke, sit with the council like you usually do and take minutes; they’re expecting you.” She carefully took the cigarette from between my lips and took a quick drag before stubbing it out against the heel of her boot.

“Waste not,” she frowned with a strange grin as she slipped the unsmoked remainder into my back pocket and smacked my ass. “Want not,” she casually looked into my eyes several heartbeats longer than necessary and smiled.

“They are?” I peeped over Sheila’s shoulder at the members of the council gathering at the oak table to the right of the Leader’s podium. “They are?”

“You take the minutes at every meeting, and you’ve been doing it since the day you became a member of the Society. Nobody asked you to stop.” She looked at Martha and Belinda in conversation with Jennifer. “You’re knack with words is appreciated. We need a historian; it might as well be you.” She patted my head and walked to the stage.

I had an uneasy feeling in my gut as I followed my mistress of mixed messages. Until I knew the lay of the land, I would make my way gingerly through the shifting moods of the Sisterhood. The twin SkyFire events had left everyone anxious and uneasy. The confrontation with the Sheriff and his posse was a troubling first introduction to the new world beyond our walls.

Like the minds of soldiers finishing basic training on the evening of war, the frame of mind of the Society was transitioning from theory to practice. It was exhilarating and terrifying; a high wire act without a net. No matter how amazing was our grace or beautiful our style, it was still the same distance to the ground if we missed the wire.

“With the hour being...”

Sheila held her gavel at the ready and stared at the silent grandfather clock at the front wall of the amphitheater. Unwound, the dormant timepiece had ticked its last tock at two-twenty-two on the afternoon or morning of some previous day.

“Oh, bother,” she grumbled as she checked her watch. “Ah hum, the time being twenty-one hundred hours, more or less, I declare this meeting of the leadership council to be in session, Sheila Carson presiding. Today’s agenda is in three parts. Firstly, the council will direct a hearing into the circumstances leading to the detention and subsequent liberation of Darlene and Seraina,” the Commander said as she held up a single finger.

“Secondly,” she extended another digit, “we will examine the conduct of our rescue party during our, er, rather sticky encounter with the Sheriff’s Department. Today’s actions may have significant implications for our future relationships with local law enforcement. Finally, we have unfinished business from our last meeting.” Sheila turned to face me. “Mister Wolf’s performance review and duty assignment. We’ll deal with that after dinner recess. But, enough of that. Before we begin, let’s all welcome home our sisters, Darlene and Seraina,” the chief said as she embraced each of the women.

I scanned the hall as I rose to my feet and became one with the assembly as we flooded the hall with a defiant wave of joyful applause. We had met the enemy and prevailed, at least for the moment. With a gentle tap of the hammer, Sheila returned the hall to silence as she pointed to the returned women and beckoned them to rise.

“Speak truthfully so that we may better know your mind. We know that your return was delayed by red tape, something to do with missing paperwork. What happened after we left that caused you to become prisoners?”

“We were closing on the two Hybrid-Electric Ford F-250 trucks and about ready to complete the transaction when we the manager noticed an error in the title. The VIN was wrong, and the registry was closed,” Darlene explained as she walked across the platform and stood before Martha and the other councilors.

“We decided to rent a couple of rooms for the night and finish the mission when we got the titles sorted out,” Seraina joined her companion as her voice trailed off into a whisper, and her body tensed like she was standing on the edge of an abyss.

“What happened next?” Sheila bridged the silence with a soothing voice of inquiry.

“All hell broke loose an hour after we settled in,” Darlene said as she inhaled and held her breath for a moment before continuing.

“I opened our door to investigate, and a terrified girl ran into our room,” Seraina said as she gave Darlene’s hand an additional squeeze of strength and affection.

“The poor sister was a naked, bloody mess with two black eyes, and a split lip. Blood was running down the inside of the girl’s legs. She was scared shitless. Literally.” Seraina wrinkled her nose and continued.