Chapter 15

The college guy spoke up, "Guys, if there's anyway ... anyway at all ... don't cut the ropes, and brush out your tracks. I'm betting that what passes as a holy man or priest in this neighborhood is expecting to come back and dispose of the evidence. Jonesy says our little valley looks an awful lot like a meteor crater.

"A man could make a good living selling those girls out of state ... so to speak. Kill off a couple for effect ... leave the rest for the monster in the crater to devour. I wouldn't mind an awful lot if you left the painted guy tied to a post. If you do hang him from a post ... gut him and take the entrails with you ... someone take a baggie. Don't forget to brush out your tracks. Be good, now, ya hear?"

"What's a meteor got to do with it?"

"I'm betting Jonesy is right ... this valley might be only as old as the memory of the oldest survivor. Then again it might be a few generations old. There's nothing in the water ... no frogs, no fish and the island in the middle is a regular feature of meteor strikes.

"It's close to twenty klicks to the nearest standing trees. This must have been quite the portent and it's perfect for a smart man to start a new religion over. The girls are offered by the people ... nobody had to kidnap or steal 'em. The people EXPECT to see them gone. The priests back at the village are going to be suspicious as all get out ... but they can't do anything about it ... the girls are supposed to be gone."

"Base, Post ... when this is over we need to make a couple of passes with a painted up Blackhawk ... we need a monster ... one from the sky would be great."

"Post, Base ... that's a very good idea ... Lieutenant. Congratulations on your field promotion."

It was quiet on the campground.

"Jesus, these guys are wasted ... it's like a peyote party only really serious."

"Hey. I found the ball ... she might have been really pretty. I have the perfect place for her head."

The females were removed from the ropes and the shaman, priest, holy man was tied to a new pole, right in the middle of camp. The company ninja wannabe had steel claw gloves and eviscerated the painted up one. They cleaned him out like a deer and tied the 'ball' in the cavity.

"That ought to create some doubt in the rightness of human sacrifice." commented the Colonel. "You know we're going to have to take a hand in bringing the locals to heel."

The celebrants didn't wake up until noonish ... the shit hit the fan. No sacrifices ... no priest ... until about three in the afternoon when someone was finally straight enough to notice the priest mount.

It was bad ... very bad ... Rather than take him down, the tribal warriors pulled up the post and carried him back the way they came. All four directions might as well have been choreographed ... they acted the same way.

Two days later, a group of robed but greying old men ... probably the high priesthood ... came and checked out the campground. Staying twenty four hundred meters away from the crater all four groups of priests held a conclave on the North campsite. They were up til all hours ... then they passed the peyote.

"Perfect!" exclaimed the Colonel. "Kill 'em all ... gut 'em and we'll buzz the villages with the Blackhawk and dump the bodies on the natives. Absolutely perfect. Corporal Hendrik!"

"Yes Daddy."

"You done making a dragon monster out of the bird?"

"Yes, Sir ... it's impressive. Jonesy and I had a bad brew ... we'll dump it along with the deaders ... it'll be like the priests gave the dragon the shits ... bad meat."

"Jonesy?"

"Sir?"

"Wanna be an officer?"

"Fuck no ... I work for a living."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Sir, when the god decided there needed to be an idle upper class in the military, he stood all the possibles in a line in the snow. The ones who could write their names in pee were smart enough to work for a living. The ones who pissed themselves, made holes or misspelled their names became officers." Jonesy was at rigid attention. "God figured there had to be some that reached the level of their incompetence."

Colonel Hendrik turned bright red ... purple ... white ... in order.

"He's right Daddy."