Chapter 511

The Prison Planet

Jasmine looked over at her lover...”I’m sure we can learn, but, I agree; it’s something we both need to work on. After that, we should probably continue with the outhouse. With all those people coming, we’ll soon need a bathroom badly. We have to finish it, and the sooner the better.”

While she was working on breakfast, Morales measured the rifles and cut a piece of hide to the size he would need, then cut the pegs to the proper length and sharpened them. After getting Jasmine to hold the hide against the wall, he drove the pegs through the hide and deep into the wall at the proper height and angle, spacing them according to his measurements. That done, he cut two more hide strips and wound them around the pegs, securing the hide with glue.

Jasmine didn’t start the eggs until he was finishing. After washing his hands, he sat on their eating log, where she handed him a plate mounded with scrambled eggs, bacon and already-buttered biscuits, along with blackberry jelly that Diana had also brought, plus a fresh cup of coffee, of course.

After thanking her profusely, he added jelly to his biscuit, and was in the process of taking his first bite when he saw the look on her face. “What?” he questioned.

“Uh, Colonel Matthews – well, Jeff – said a prayer of thanks for the meals, and I thought...”

“Uh, Jas, I don’t know anything about praying...”

“Who cares? There’s nobody here but us.”

“Then you do it.”

“You’re the man of the house ... well cave,” she corrected with a chuckle, but just sat there waiting.

“Okay,” he said before stumbling his way through thanking God for their food, and asked Him to bless their day.

When he had finished the short prayer, “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life,” he said, barely loudly enough for her to hear.

“No reason to be,” she assured him as she squeezed his hand. “Now, how are the biscuits?”

He took a bite, smiled and managed to mumble out with his mouth full of biscuit, “Superb, as always.”

“Good. Only the best for my Alpha.”

Morales snapped his head up to stare at her, but the grin that he expected wasn’t there; she was serious. “That’s not funny,” he grumbled quietly.

“I didn’t mean for it to be,” she answered right back.

Morales didn’t know what to say, so he just shut up and ate as Jasmine sat beside him eating her own breakfast.

I never understood why the call girls kept coming back, sometimes “just to visit”, and now I’m at a loss to understand Jasmine. Why don’t women just say what they need to say instead of making everything into a big mystery?

While Jasmine was cleaning up from breakfast, Morales spread the hide out and began scraping. When she finished with her work, she came over and knelt beside him. Looking over at her, he said, “Baby, you don’t have to do this. To say the least, it’s going to be messy, as you certainly know.”

“To say the least,” she returned with a grin, repeating his expression, “we’ll both use the hide when it’s cured, and a little piss and brains won’t kill me – and didn’t before. I’ve heard it said that the combination is good for the skin. Besides, I’m well past the squeamish stage. We’ll both smell bad together.”

Morales grinned at her. Together, they both scraped the hide, going over it twice before they began working the tanning mixture into it. An hour later, they rolled the hide back up, and came to their feet, each of them bracing themselves to lean a bit backward for a moment to relieve cramped muscles.

After thoroughly washing their hands in lye soap, they got their coats, rifles, ammunition and hearing and eye protection before strapping on their snowshoes. The wolves were obviously anxious to go with them, but Morales and Jasmine took time to explain to them that they would be firing the rifles many times, and the sound would hurt their ears. Eventually, they convinced Lobo and Lila to stay behind today. The two walked along the ridgeline for a couple of hundred yards before finding a downed tree that they thought would serve their purpose. Morales cut a circle fifteen inches or so across, then peeled the bark off inside the ring to make a rough target. After stepping off fifteen paces, they turned to face the target. Moving behind her, Morales said, “Ladies first.”

Jasmine snapped the rifle up to a position a little below shoulder height and pulled the trigger, all in one smooth motion.

A chunk of wood flew from almost dead center in the circle.

Morales grinned at her and said, “Welllll, you could have, at least, acted as if it were difficult.”

Jasmine, proud of his proper grammar, (if it were) more than her shot, answered, “Oh, come on. That’s an easy target.”

“Maybe for you. It’s about the size of that leopard’s head. That shot would have been right between its eyes, and it would have probably come out its asshole. I could do it with my crossbow, but with the rifle’s scope getting in the way ... I don’t know.”

“Well, as you saw, I didn’t try to use the scope or aim in any normal way. If you do it enough, your mind will become accustomed to your shooting like that and line the rifle up properly – for close targets. But ... hitting it dead center was just luck. I’ll probably miss the next time,” she said to ease his worry, all the while knowing she wouldn’t, and she didn’t, nor did she miss any of the next four rounds, either.

“I’m empty. Your turn.”

With a sigh, and knowing he couldn’t, Morales snapped the rifle up, mimicking her stance, and fired as Jasmine reloaded her weapon. They heard the round hit a tree in the distance, but the target was undisturbed.

“Way high,” Jasmine said. “Slow down until you’re sure of where the round will go. Think about where your barrel is pointing before you squeeze the round off. My father taught me to do this when I was in my early teens. With practice, your mind will learn to point the weapon where you’re looking.”

Jasmine shot six more times, all on the target, while Morales fired forty rounds total. While they had been firing, one of them always kept a weapon loaded. It seemed unlikely that something would attack while they were firing, but Morales’ almost paranoia had kept him alive more than once. He wasn’t going to change just because they now had rifles, and Jasmine was just as careful.

“Why can I hit with snap-shots with crossbow or compound bow, when I can’t with a damn rifle?” he grumped.

“The scopes make the rifles awkward to snap-shoot – as you expected – but you’ll get better. Besides, just how much practice have you done with the bows?”

Morales chuckled. “I’ve about worn out all the arrows I’ve made, plus the practice arrows they sent with me.”

“Worn out?” she questioned.

“Well, I broke them when I hit something hard, or lost them, or the point was shoved back into the wood or fiberglass.”

Jasmine grinned at him. “All you need is practice and you’ll be able to hit with snap-shots just like you can with the bows,” she said as they knelt to retrieve their brass. Since the hot brass had sunk into the snow, that turned out to take longer than they expected.

As they started back, slogging along in their snowshoes, Jasmine continued. “We’ll practice some distance shooting tomorrow, if that’s okay with you.”

Morales patted the rifle. “Hell,” he said with a grin, “you’re the boss, and besides, I’m beginning to love shooting this thing.”

“Just remember what Jeff said about thinking about firing the weapon. While you’re relaxing, practice in your mind what we did out here. Whether you realize it or not, you’re much better with your snap-shots than you were when we first started. And with enough practice, you’ll eventually be able to do it without thinking.”

“Well, we damn sure have plenty of ammunition,” he said as they stopped at the entrance to take their snowshoes off. “I’m almost scared to even wonder how much all that ammo cost.”

“A lot, but the Matthews have money. If we somehow manage to shoot all that up,” she said motioning to the stored ammo, “I’ll buy us more. Also, we should probably think about reloading. That’s the reason I saved the brass both times we’ve shot. I can ask the General or the Colonel to buy us some reloading equipment, bullets, primers and powder, and I can reimburse them. My dad reloaded and he often allowed me to help him. It’s easy to learn. Believe it or not, with time, you can develop loads for your particular rifle that will exceed the accuracy of off-the-shelf ammunition.”

“But that’s your money...” he began.

“No,” she said, her head coming up to stare him eye to eye. “It is our money. Remember, we’re going to be married in a few days and I do not believe in separate accounts. I’ll have your name put on everything, and besides, the loading equipment isn’t that expensive and will pay for itself over time. In addition, loading will give you a sense of pride when you build rounds that look and shoot as good or better than the ammo you can buy, and is much, much less expensive at the same time. As far as money is concerned, remember, I’m still drawing my salary. I don’t make what someone with a doctorate does, but it’s a nice salary, anyway. The last thing we need to worry about is money, and as I’ve already said, I banked most of my income for years.”

“Jas,” he began reasonably. “I really appreciate the thought, but we are on another planet. It’s not as if I’m going to go wild with a charge card,” he finished with a chuckle.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said with a grin. “Your name will be on all my accounts as soon as I go back to Earth for my dissertation. Besides, I’ll need to get my name changed. I’ll be Mrs. Patrick Morales,” she proudly said. “Hmmm, Doctor Jasmine Morales,” she tried. “That really sounds distinguished.”

Morales went after the cleaning supplies while Jasmine put on the percolator for a much-needed warmup from the cold. Working together, it only took a few minutes to take care of the rifles before they put them on the new rests not far from the door.

After a cup of coffee, Morales took the new chain saw outside, filled the chain oiler, then the tank with gasoline. After a couple of pulls, the saw fired up. As he had done with the saws he had used on Earth, he put the nose of the chain near a cardboard box and revved the engine. When he saw the faint trace of oil sprayed off the chain onto the cardboard, he knew the chain was oiling properly.

Morales slung his rifle over his shoulder and carried the saw while also pulling the ski/axle set by a loop of paracord over his free shoulder. Jasmine, her rifle in hand, also carried a gallon can of mixed, two stroke gas, both feeling a lot safer because of the rifles.

With the logs they had previously cut and dragged back to the cave, and with what they had cut today, they had the material they would need to finish the outhouse. They had even cut smaller logs for rafters for the roof, and had dragged everything back to the cave, positioning the logs near the outhouse.

By the time the sun was setting, both were near exhaustion. Morales wiped the saw down and put it well back in the cave so the smell of what little gasoline was left in the tank wouldn’t bother them, or be a fire hazard. He certainly wasn’t going to leave the saw outside.

Jasmine, so tired she could hardly believe it, warmed up a quick meal, and the two sat without speaking while leaning against the cave wall as they ate.

Much later, they sat snuggled together near the fire, when Morales asked. “How long before the Matthews come back, do you suppose?”

“I don’t know. Diana said she would bring me a video that will show wedding dresses that I can choose from, but she didn’t give a time frame other than as soon as she could manage it.”

Jasmine came to her feet to clean up, but when she got back, Morales was sound asleep still sitting with his back against the wall.

“I put some water on, and it should be warm enough by now. Let’s get cleaned up and go to bed.”

“Talked me into it,” he said with a groan as he came to his feet.

Bathed and wrapped in each other’s arms, they were asleep almost as soon as they were under the furs.

Kei’s Office

...”Just have a nice meeting with your client. I’ll be surfing the net while keeping an eye on you after I contact the locksmith,” Tosha said.

Tosha could hear occasional laughter from Kei’s client as everything seemed to be going smoothly for her. The young security officer found the phone number of the locksmith, and with a promise of a sizable bonus for immediate work, ended the call to continue her ruse of a busy associate.

When the business phone rang, she snatched it up, answering it professionally. As she suspected, it was the locksmith calling to inform her of his arrival as he had been instructed. She met him at the door and stayed with him while he rekeyed both door locks. After he gave her two sets of keys, she paid him with one of Security’s charge cards, adding the tip she had promised. Ushering him out the front, she thanked him profusely and locked the door, having already made sure the back door was again locked.

As she was about to return to the office, Kei looked a question at her. Tosha gave the pretty architect a smile and a wink before going back to her supposed work.