-FEATURE STORY- The Cannibal Diaries IV


Posted by Ripper on December 20, 2003 at 23:19:18:


THE CANNIBAL DIARIES


After a short gap, the book from the future continues.


Yours,
XZZY


-Chapter 4-
-Linking Up-

It felt good to rejoin the old team. Rick and Stan had rested while I played Dan the Psychologist. Four more joined us. Harry and Roger played the electric guitar. Robert and John drove the supply vehicles. We all knew each other. We were the best solders the revolution had. Which was another way of saying that we had survived in combat a bit longer than most. As we talked over old times, Grey interrupted us.

"I bet you can't wait to hit the road again. When you do, you will need these," Grey said. "HO! HO! HO! Christmas came early this year," Grey mimicked.

Just then a large door opened. The hole in the ground gave birth to our weapons. Grey offered us everything a Motorized Rock-n-Roll Assault Team needed-- everything except good luck and guts.

I made a mental inventory. In front of us there was:

My eyes quickly centered on the gun racks.

Grey anticipated my question, "That is the new series D 06 word shooter. It has a silenced self lubricating action."

I went inside the cab of the nearest SUV and removed one of the word shooters. I tested the action. The weapon did not speak to me. Plastic parts suppressed the "click click" of metal against metal.

"I wish I had one like this when I joined up. Back then it was take one shot and run. Putting another round in the chamber could get you caught. I could have wasted more than one lawyer at a time with this baby," I speculated.

"We're always glad to improve our product," Grey smiled. "Oh, these are for you too," he added.

He handed me two boxes of cartridges. One was marked "Rose" and the other "Monica."

"That's 48 more dead lawyers," I laughed.

I opened a box. It was Monica's box. The bullets glowed bright-green. Monica had made strong HRT. She also made a very good roast ass.

I removed the gun's magazine and loaded it a cartridge at a time. I checked the sights.

"We also improved the telescopic sight," Grey bragged.

I unstrapped a motorized skateboard from the cargo rack on the SUV.

"This baby is loaded. It has got a 300 cubic centimeter two cylinder engine, a syncro-mesh automatic transmission and an all wheel drive," Grey advertised.

I jumped on the skateboard and tested the balance. Then I shouldered the rifle and took a pretend shot.

"Hitting something from a moving skateboard is a hard thing to do," I offered.

"It's not as hard as slamming out riffs while a lawyer chases your bare ass," Roger challenged.

"And don't those lawyers go nuts when they see a naked guitarist playing Rock-n-Roll on a skateboard," I continued.

"They attack anything that is free. Just a skateboard will send them into a feeding frenzy," Rick said, "Before the war they created thousands of laws to ban skateboards. Add Rock-n-Roll and bare skin to a skateboard and you have prime lawyer bait."

"And then, POW! I introduce the lawyers to my 06," I said.

"That's right, Dan. POW!" Grey cheered. "We have equipped you with extra fuel and rations. After you escort some gleaners and grazers, you are going deep behind enemy lines," Gray said.

"Gleaners and grazers?" I questioned.

Grey started one of his lectures, "We have not always had enough grain to eat. When those damn lawyers started lobbing shells, farming got hard. The lawyers nearly starved us out. Then, our research people crossed wheat and soy beans with roadside weeds. We've planted these hybrids on along every road for hundreds of miles. We now grow our food right under the lawyer's noses!"

We all laughed.

Grey continued, "Harvesting this grain takes some cute tricks.

If we want grain, we send gleaners. We drop a gleaner every 10 kilometers along a highway. They harvest the roadside grain. A lone gleaner, dressed like a peasant and working like a slave, won't attract lawyers. They don't see freedom. They don't see money, so they leave our gleaners alone.

If we want meat, we send grazers. A few months along the roadside makes our girls grow. The diet of seeds and semi-wild grain makes them extra tasty. The late spring and summer weather keeps them healthy. Our roadside plants provide them with all that they need. They do not need money. Lawyers only attack when they see money, so they leave our grazers alone, too."

Our harvesters joined us. There were more grazers than gleaners. The gleaners wore well-worn work clothes. The grazers wore nothing. I recognized one of the grazers immediately.

"Terry!" I shouted.

"Dan!" she cried.

"I didn't know we were in the same convoy," I explained.

"Yes, we are back on the road again," Terry said, "Remember all the fun we had the last time?"

I responded, "I will never forget it."

Grey interrupted, "I have good news and bad news for you two. The bad news is that you will have to part in a couple of days. The good news, Dan, is that you can pick Terry up on your return trip. You should return in about 2 months. By that time Terry will be ready for slaughter."

Terry jumped on me. She kissed me sensuously. Her hips swayed in my crotch.

"We have two days, AND NIGHTS, too," I hinted. "We've got to get started now," I said dutifully.

Tracy was still a bit slow. She hadn't recovered completely. I had to spell everything out for her.

"If we start early, we can get to bed sooner," I coached.

Tracy gave me a strong hug. Her hips attacked my genitals rhythmically. I pushed her away.

"We have our duty!" I reminded.

"Yes, our duty," Terry sighed.

"But we also have tonight," I said.

"And tomorrow night too," Terry maintained.

"And after two short months, we will have forever," I finished.

My hands reached around Terry. Her hands rapped around me. We took one long kiss.

"Forever," Terry repeated.

We took one long kiss. Our hands dropped. Terry turned and walked away. Her skin had improved since she was my patient. The bedsores on her back had almost healed. Her ass had added an inch or two. A couple of months on the road could restore her completely.

Our harvesters rolled out two passenger trailers from the underground shelter.

"Hitch em up!" Rick shouted.

The passenger trailers were designed to look like roadside junk. Their scruffy appearance was camouflage. When the lawyers looked, they couldn't see money. This made it easy for us to leave them along the road.

The hitches were poorly designed. We fiddled for about an hour. I do not remember how we got everything together, but we did.

Finally, Rick could say, "Move em out!"

Robert and John got in their driver's seats. The rest of the attack team sat in the SUVs. We had to wait while our passengers, all thirty of them, got in their trailers. At last, we were on the road!

Grey smiled and shouted, "Good luck and happy hunting," at the two car convoy.

On our way at last, we drove through New Osawatomie. Now that the threat of air attack was over, the city was building above ground. We passed many new buildings, schools, factories, and other municipal structures. More than half were still under construction.

"There is the new airport." I said.

"I don't see why New Osawatomie needs an airport. We don't have any airplanes yet," Roger said.

That statement killed further conversation. Roger just didn't understand progress.

We finally got out into the countryside.

The road got rougher. We traveled over the Kansas countryside for most of the day. Roger and Harry practiced their music together. I thought Harry could sing the Blues well.

Suddenly, the caravan stopped. There was a sign ahead.

"Entering Frontier," the sign warned, "Danger raiding lawyers ahead."

Rick ordered, "Time for us to take the point."

We unpacked the skateboards, guitars, and the rifles. The five of us checked our gear. I was back at the front. This was where I belonged. I opened the latch on the gun rack. I picked the 06 that I had already loaded with Monica's rounds.

Rick shouted the command, "Be careful guys!"

We started up the engines on our new skateboards.

"This time, I promise I won't aim at you, Stan," I said over the roar of the skateboard engines.

"Thanks, I can do without the HRT injections," Stan answered. "I know the HRT won't kill me, because I am not a lawyer. But, I don't like to glow green!" Stan complained.

Stan took one side of the road and I took the other. This was the same tactic we used to liberate Freedom Road. It felt like old times again.

The rest of the day was uneventful. We sighted no enemy. At sundown we stopped. I had enjoyed Roger and Harry's Rock-n-Roll. They had spent the day between Stan and me. Rick drove in the 'ambush position' behind Roger and Harry. He kept extra rounds of self-propelled common sense grenades in his belt.

Rick ordered a halt, "We can stop here. The supply trucks can park over there. It should take them an hour to catch up. In the mean time guys . . ."

Rick didn't have to complete the orders. We weren't rank amateurs hiding in some suburban ranch house anymore. We knew what we had to do. I policed my side of the road. Stan checked his side. Rick proceeded up the road.

We had the area clear by the time the rest of the caravan arrived. There were fewer harvesters now. About a third of the gleaners and grazers had left the caravan. They had each found their own spot to pick the roadside grain. The twenty harvesters that remained started making camp.

When I spotted Terry, I snuck up behind her. I reached out and pinched her bare ass. She turned quickly. Her tits jiggled. I had to own those tits. I just had to have Terry.

"You!" She said.

I grabbed Terry's tits and slowly massaged them.

"OOOOHHH!" Terry moaned.

Just then Terry bolted. I followed her. She ran into a field and hid behind a large rock. I went the other way around the rock to surprise her. When I met Terry she was face up and spread eagle.

"Do you want to fuck, Dan?" Terry offered.

I didn't need to answer. I took off my battle dress and climbed on top of Terry. We screwed together. It was good sex. It was as good as the sex we had years ago, when we liberated Freedom Road.

Sex is a good way to end the day. Both of us were very tired. We talked in whispers.

Terry started the conversation, "How are you going to cook me, Dan?"

"I will cut you into small pieces," I whispered, "I will keep every piece until I eat it. I want to savor you one bite at a time. I want to eat all of you"

"Oooouuu! That gives me shivers," Terry said. Terry asked for more, "Tell me how you're going to butcher me again, please. Tell me again, Dan."

"I will start by tying your hands behind your back. Then, I will tie you elbows together. I will lift your hands behind your back.

Terry put her hands behind her back and tried to lift them up.

"That will hurt," Terry concluded.

"Yes, it will hurt," I agreed, "The twisting of your hands behind your back will just start your suffering. Your breasts will stand up and firm in reaction to the pain. I will keep you in pain like this for days. You won't get any food. You will have only water to drink."

"That will clean me out," Terry whispered. "Then you will snuff me," Terry hissed seductively.

Terry's back arched. Her chest shuttered, and her eyes rolled.

"Cutting you up will be the best part," I said in low tones, "I will start by hanging you upside down. I will bring a sharp knife to your neck. I will cut you slowly."

Terry's body language signaled, "The word ‘slowly' was luscious. Please say it again."

"Then my blood will drain out of me," Tracy slowly mouthed.

I finished my story, "While you bleed I will cut you open. I will take out your guts, s-l-o-w-l-y. You will not bear the pain and blood loss for long. You will die."

Terry blushed.

Talk of recipes for cooking Terry turned both of us on. My penis stood erect. Terry's body stiffened. Terry engulfed me. I penetrated her. We had terrific sex.

We pulled our sweat-drenched bodies apart. We lay on our backs and looked at the stars. I hugged Terry. We fell asleep.

* * *

Rick shook me again.

"Time to get up. GET UP you two love birds," he said.

Having missed dinner last night, we were both very hungry. I fiddled with my battle dress.

"Hurry up, Dan!" Terry called, "I am hungry."

We were last for breakfast. We ate all the leftovers.

"Thanks for cleaning everything up," John, the cook said.

"What?" I asked.

"You guys cleaned everything up, so I won't have to scrape the dishes before I wash them," John explained.

"Oh! Then your welcome," I meekly replied.

Rick gathered us together for a briefing. He started with the tactical situation.

Rick made our situation clear, "As you saw for yourself, the lawyers had abandoned the ground we covered yesterday. We didn't push them off it.

Their society is falling apart. Lawyers don't produce, they only leach off those who do. The producing people ran for New Osawatomie. They ran, fleeing lawsuits.

We will travel through our first town today. That town and beyond are terra incognita. We freedom fighters have never been there in force. When we hit the town, we must neutralize any enemy we find there. We will not want them blocking our return."

"Do we have intelligence estimates on the number of enemy?" Harry asked.

"No, we do not. If we encounter too large a force, our orders are not to engage them. We must protect the harvesters," Rick answered. "Okay guys, let's go. New Osawatomie needs road warriors, so be careful out there!" he ordered.

Harry and Roger moved out first. They played the kind of Rock-n-Roll that drove lawyers sue-crazy. Stan, Rick, and I checked our rifles and mounted our skateboards. From my skateboard, I could see Robert and John trying to fit the mobile mess and the harvesters into the trailers.

"It still is better than a hand drawn rickshaw," I teased.

Robert and John looked at me. I could read their faces. I don't think they believed that the new trailers were such an improvement over the old rickshaws. They had about an hour of work before they started.

We got organized. We all knew the pattern. Harry and Roger took the point. They drove down the center of the road with mobile amplified guitars blaring. Stan and I each took different sides of the road just behind them. Rick took the center about 100 yards behind. I saw him cock his common sense grenade launcher.

The first five hours on the road were like yesterday, very boring. At least I had Harry and Roger's Rock-n-Roll to keep me alert.

Stan signaled first. At his whistle, Harry and Roger changed their tune. We all stopped. After a minute, Rick sped over to meet Stan. I was more careful. I hid myself fast. A large patch of tall weeds hid me well. From my covered position, I scanned the area. My 06 was ready.

Stan had found a gas station. I joined Stan and Rick there. Rick was already issuing orders.

"Check the underground tanks. If they have good fuel in them, then mark them for Robert and John. Those suburban tanks they drive can always use a drink," Rick commanded, "Dan, look for intelligence. Try the office over there. We could use a better map. Also, see if you can figure out when this place was abandoned."

The office was dusty and dark. The windows, which would have provided sunlight, were painted over with brown paint. I used a nearby metal part as a doorstop. The open door let in a little light. Most of the office contained packages of food for sale. In the dim light, I could see single files of ants. They marched from a crack in the floor to the dusty displays.

The office also held a small desk. Through the dusty clutter, I discovered a telephone book. I grabbed it. In the first few pages, it had some maps. On the wall was a calendar. The calendar was 4 years old. I left the musty room quickly. I had found what I came for.

Outside, I could see Stan cutting a path through the weeds. That path would signal Robert and John.

"This place was abandoned 4 years ago. Here are some maps," I reported.

I handed Rick the telephone book.

"You have found more than you know," Rick smiled. "Look under advisors, advocates, agents, aldermen, attorneys, authorized agents, bar association, barristers, commissioners, councils, counselors, court masters, defense attorneys, insurance agents, judges, lawyers, legal aid, legal representatives, legal services, magistrates, prosecutors, representatives, senators, solicitors, tax attorneys, and tax preparers. Check all three sections of the book: Government, white, and yellow pages."

"Wow! Why can't I find them all listed under lawyers?" I asked.

"Know your enemy, Dan," Rick returned, "Even before the war, the lawyers knew that they were not liked. So they hid themselves under several different names."

"I see. Someone who made an honest living would only need one name for his job," I concluded.

What a task finding those lawyers was! We split the telephone book into five parts. Each one of us looked for lawyers in his section. By the time we had plotted the addresses of all the lawyers in town, the SUVs had arrived. The trailers were empty. Terry was in one of the SUVs. Robert was driving that one. John's SUV carried two passengers. The rest of the harvesters were at their jobs along the roadside.

"We'll make camp here tonight. Lets uncouple the trailers and hide them over there," Rick ordered, "Dan, see if you can give our SUVs a drink. There must be a hand pump here somewhere. If you can't find one, see if you can wire the generator behind the station to the pumps."

Things are never easy. The station didn't have a hand pump. Changing a few circuit breakers connected the generator's output directly to the pumps and nothing else. Fixing the old generator was a major task. Even with Rick and Stan's help, we didn't get the generator started until just before dinner.

John had cooked up souffle of field rations. It was not very pleasing, but John claimed it was nutritious. I was tempted to rescue some ant food from the office. Listening to Harry sing the Blues kept my mind off the food.

The rest of the gang talked over old times, but Terry and I had something else on our mind. I decided that I would surprise Terry. One circuit breaker connected the generator to the air compressor. In a few minutes the air storage tank was full. To save fuel, I turned off the generator.

Terry and I went hand in hand into the garage. We set a sleeping bag on one of the lifts. I took off my battle dress. Terry stripped off my underwear. Getting the two of us into the sleeping bag took some effort, but we liked to feel each other's naked bodies. Terry had nice breasts. The rest of her body was good too.

Then, I sprang my surprise. I threw the switch and the lift took us up to the ceiling.

"I wanted you to get yours up. But this is not what I had in mind," Terry joked.

The sleeping bag seemed to contract, forcing us together. I entered Terry. The sleeping bag lashed us together tightly. I couldn't pull back and thrust. I could only squeeze. Terry responded by squeezing me. Our bodies blended together, like bread dough being kneaded. We came together. My soul floated away.

* * *

I opened my eyes. It was still dark. Terry was shuffling around inside the sleeping bag. I grabbed her ass and steered into her. Terry unzipped the bag. I rolled on top of her. We slowly drove into each other. We felt each other release. I shut my eyes again.

* * *

Rick was shouting, "Get up! Get up!"

I wanted to go back to sleep. I opened the valve and the lift went down. This convinced Rick we were getting up. He went away.

"One last fuck?" I asked

"Yes, one last fuck," Terry answered. "Our last chance for two months," Terry reminded.

"Forever is two months and counting," I computed.

We joined together closely.

"Forever!" Terry sighed.

We made love for the third time that night. Together, we could hear the others eating breakfast.

"That is what I call a night to remember," Terry joked.

We missed breakfast.

Rick shouted, "I want this area policed. Clean and camouflage any evidence of our stay here."

After I found where Terry threw my underwear, I put on my uniform. We joined the cleanup.

Rick came up to us and said, "You two love birds better say your good-byes."

"We have, for now," Terry said.

Robert and John had the SUVs packed up. The two remaining grazers rode with John. They were waiting for the skateboards to lead.

I said farewell to Terry. Terry would spend the next two months, her last two months, at the service station. She would grow fat on our genetically engineered road weeds. Her meat would grow deliciously marbleized. She would be ready.

Rick called the morning briefing. He had planned a tour of lawyer residences. Harry and Roger tuned up their instruments. Stan and I checked our weapons. We hit the road. Rick and his map took the point.

I saw Terry wave. I gunned my engine, made a fast 180, and drove close by Terry. As I sped past, I kissed her.

Rick led us to the first destination. It was a small office building with a sign out front. The sign had spray painted graffiti all over it. You could make out the original letters. They said, "Divorces, Wills, and Bankruptcies."

Stan left us. He went around back. Rick and I entered through the front door. Our weapons were ready. I could hear my heart pounding. There was no one in the waiting room or at the front desk. While Rick and I checked each office, we met Stan.

"Did you find anything? I didn't," Stan said.

The building had been deserted for about 4 years, like the service station.

Rick led us to three more locations. There were no lawyers at these locations either. Harry and Roger turned up their backpack amplifiers. They couldn't draw any lawyers out with their Rock-n-Roll.

"There aren't any lawyers in this town," Stan concluded.

"There aren't any people in this town," Rick corrected, "A single lawyer needs at least 50 or 60 honest people to prey on." Rick offered his own conclusion, "Four years ago, there was an insurrection here. The population of this town rebelled. They killed all the lawyers and fled."

"But, I don't know any refugees from this place back in new Osawatomie," I offered.

"So, we are left with a four year old mystery," Rick pondered, "Where did the people of this town go?"

We got back into formation and Rick led us back to the road. We contacted Robert and John and got out in front of them. They were alone now. The two remaining harvesters had left the caravan. Their orders were to plant seeds of road weed hybrid along the road beyond the town.

"Back on the road again," I mumbled to myself.

* * *

Time went by fast. We didn't find many lawyers. I got the two we did find with my 06. A month on the road and I still had most of Monica's cartridges. I kept Rose's rounds next to me. I hoped I didn't need them. I really wanted to keep part of her.

The countryside was full of abandoned towns. There were no lawyers, none that were alive anyway. We found a few decaying corpses inside some courtrooms. They looked like they died in agony. One had even been tarred and feathered.

There were no honest people for lawyers to infest either.

Rick kept asking the question, "Where did they go? Where did the honest people go? They would not have gone to the big lawyer cities, like Kansas City. That would be moving out of the frying pan and into the fire. New Osawatomie doesn't have any refuges from these parts."

I got a feeling Rick already knew the answer.

In a few days, all 7 of us would know the answer.


The answer came to us when we weren't looking for it. We had just finished lunch. We started the engines on our skateboards and headed down the highway. It happened 5 minutes later.

Stan hand signaled, "slow down."

Rick signaled back, "What?"

Stan pointed, "Look at the two o'clock position."

Rick got very excited. Rick signaled, "Halt! Take cover!"

Confused, I hid behind a broken lamp pole. I finally saw what all the fuss was about. There was a cloud of dust on the road ahead.

I could hear the rest of the band readying their weapons. I could hear them even though they used Grey's new silent action 06s. We sat still. I slowly chambered a round. I wasn't going to make any noise at all. Still, my weapon softly said, "click," as the cartridge met the chamber. My ears sharpened. I could hear the wind shaking the weeds. I could hear a couple of birds singing. I could hear my heart pounding.

I also heard something else. It was a dull roar. It was the sound of engines!

I counted every heartbeat during the next minutes.

Then, I saw him. Except for the rifle slung on his back, he was naked. He was ridding a dirt bike. After a few seconds, four more joined him.

Rick put his hands up and said, "Don't Shoot!"

In an instant Rick was surrounded. The rest of our patrol broke cover. This startled the 5 bikers.

"We're with the 11Th Motorized Rock-n-Roll Assault Team out of New Osawatomie, Kansas. Who are you?" Rick said.

"The 5 of us left Hoversville, Pennsylvania, looking to shoot some lawyers and help some people home. We've been on the road 4 weeks now," the lead biker said.

"How many people you got in Hoversville?" Rick asked.

"Were a big city now. We have grown all the way to Central City. Before the last feast, we had more than 250,000. We'll be bigger than Pittsburgh soon," the lead biker answered.

"The name is Mat," the lead biker offered.

"Rick here," Rick replied, "People run from those goddamn lawyers. They go where it is safe. New Osawatomie has grown to more than two million. I'll bet you have had whole towns of people join you in Hoversville?"

"Yep," Mat replied.

We spent the rest of the day exchanging information. Rick and Mat got out their maps. They were very busy. They each wrote everything down. The rest of us got together. While we waited for Rick and Mat, we shot the breeze. We liked their bikes. They liked our body armor. We liked their chow. They liked our music. We each liked our own make of rifle. We all hated lawyers.

* * *

The next morning Rick and Mat called a meeting. Mat spoke first.

Mat started making a speech, "I am glad that we have all made friends. Finding each other out here was very good luck. Before today, each of us was alone. For all we knew, our cities were the only fortresses of cannibal freedom. Yesterday changed all that. We have powerful allies now.

He finished by stating an important fact, "Each of our units now possesses the most important intelligence of this war, the fact that the others exist. Our primary duty is to tell our own people what we have learned. We have to get home. We must tell what we know."

Rick continued, "After we get home, our people will want to link up. Several of us here today opened Freedom Road into Osawatomie. After we get home, we're going to drive Freedom Road all the way to Hoversville, Pennsylvania!"

Mat challenged, "Not before we drive Liberty Lane into New Osawatomie, Kansas!"

Both teams cheered wildly. We broke camp and hit the road with reborn energy. Before we started our engines Rick changed our rules of engagement.

"Avoid any contact with the enemy. Should enemy advance units locate us, try to run from them first. We will engage them only if they block our route home. Harry and Roger you can put your instruments in the cars. Carry your 06s instead. We will need all the riflemen we can get to suppress anyone that discovers us," Rick ordered. He added, "Oh, use your flash suppressers, we will be traveling at night too."

The next week was hard. Rick was really pushing us. After several days of 16 hour rides, my skateboard became part of me. When I ate, I gassed it up. When I took a shit, I changed its oil. When I tied my shoes, I lubricated its wheels. When I went to sleep, it was my pillow.

That routine was soon broken.

He was the third enemy I had seen since was Grey's psychologist. I stopped my skateboard and rested my gun on the hood of a rusting car. I put one bit of Monica into that damn lawyer. His head shattered like a cheep drinking glass.

I started my skateboard. I wanted to join the others.

"AAwwww," said Harry. He fell off his skateboard.

I zigzagged past him. I counted 5 bloody holes in him.

My arm must have hit a tree branch. The skateboard jumped from beneath my feet. The tree hit me again a couple more times. I rolled on the ground. I saw my body leave a red trail.

I thought, "That wasn't a tree that hit me. It was . . . I can't breathe. I . . ."

* * *

"There wasn't much in Dan's backpack. Only rations, ammunition and these." I reported.

I held up two rounds. On the side of the two cartridge cases were two names, "Rose" and "Monica."

"Keep em, John," Rick said.

We stood silent for awhile.

"It was all so easy at first, John. We just hid in that ranch house and shot a lawyer once a week. Now. . . Well, now. . . God, I hate this damn war!" Rick cried.

"Well, at least we got those ambushing lawyers," I rationalized.

I put the two rounds into my field mess. I made lunch for the five of us, those of us that were left.

After lunch we buried Harry and Dan. We let the dead lawyer meat rot.

In spite of Rick's black mood, we kept going. The road was a blur now. We didn't have Harry to sing the Blues. All we had was the race home. Somehow we made it to the abandoned gas station. The trailers hadn't been molested.

"Terry's coming," Stan warned.

"I am not going to like this," Rick sighed.

"I think you ought to give it to her straight," I suggested.

"Dan! Dan!" Terry called. "Where's Dan?" she asked.

We couldn't recognize her. The bedsores had healed. She had a tan that radiated a golden glow. She would make quite a feast. I wanted to roast those gams and eat them myself.

"Where's Dan?" Terry demanded.

"We got ambushed coming home. Dan didn't make it, Terry," Rick stuttered.

"DDDAANN!" Terry screamed.

She fell to her knees.

"My DDAN," Terry wailed.

"If there anything we can do, Terry," Rick offered.

Just then, Robert drove up. He had found the two planters.

"Your man Dan was a true hero, Terry. He saved us all several times over." Rick continued.

Terry didn't hear him. She covered her face and cried. We knew that anything more we said would only add to her pain. We walked away from Terry. We let her cry alone.

We all avoided Terry for the rest of that night. Just to stay out of her way, we man-hauled the trailers to the other side of the parking lot before we hitched them. It was extra work. It was very hard work, but we would have done anything for Dan. We knew he would have done anything for us. We knew he would have done anything for Terry.

No one could sleep that night. Terry kept us up. In her sleep, she screamed Dan's name every few minutes.

Even Rick was an hour late that morning. I woke up in a daze. I managed wake up and cook breakfast. It wasn't the best meal I ever made. I took forever to clean it up.

We finally hit the road. What was left of the team went ahead and found the harvesters.

I was very hungry and horny by noon. I got that way just looking at those plump sun-tanned babes. My mouth could just taste the dishes I could make with them. My prick could taste the good love I could have with them.

Most of the crew didn't show up for dinner that night. They just fell into bed. Rick was the lone exception. We weren't covering distance like we did on the way out. Rick was too frustrated to sleep. He spent dinner just looking at his plate.

After making dinner for the harvesters, I made moves on a willing red head. Her name was Lucy, I think. As we went to bed, I saw Terry sleeping soundly. Most of us did sleep that night.

At first I didn't get to sleep. Lucy had other things on her mind.

"Sssoo . . . Your a cook, Heh. You do like doing long pig?" she asked.

"I would like to roast your ass," I answered.

"Ooh! Do me NOW," she seductively demanded.

My shaft was hard when I entered her. I needed every millimeter of her. She enjoyed every millimeter of me. And then, the skyrocket exploded.

I woke up that morning early. I had the most pleasant sleep of my life. I grabbed Lucy's tits and squeezed them hard. Lucy's eyes opened.

A second later she screamed, "Your hurting me! Your hurting me!"

I released my grip. Lucy spread her legs and reached down into the sleeping bag. I felt a stabbing pain.

"Ouch!! That's me!" I taunted.

Lucy loosened her hold on my prick and guided it into her. We made love again. It was fantastic sex. We collapsed into each other, breathing heavily.

Lucy caught her breath first. She put her hands around me and started rubbing. Starting from my back, she squeegeed all the sweat from my body.

"You going to roast my ass today?" Lucy asked.

I had to disappoint my lover.

"Ah. Lucy your so good. But, we'll be home in a couple of days," I apologized, "I can't do a good job on you out here. All I've got is a field butchering kit."

"When we get home, I will have to go onto the waiting list," Lucy sighed.

There was nothing more I could say. We watched the sun come up. I had to get up first and make breakfast. Lucy helped me. The crew didn't complain as much this morning. They thought Lucy and I had made a good breakfast. I hoped that this made them forget last night's dinner disaster.

The next day we reached the frontier. It was a couple of hours before dinnertime. Someone had painted, "Coming home" on the back of the sign. I walked around front of the sign. It still said, "Entering Frontier, Danger raiding lawyers ahead."

While I was inspecting the sign, Terry ran up to me.

She offered, "Wouldn't you like to cut me here?"

I repeated what I told Lucy, "I can't do a good job on you out here. All I've got is a field butchering kit."

"Look John. I have been waiting too long, since Freedom Road was opened. I've waited so long, I have lost Dan," Terry argued. I can' wait any longer. She shouted, "I WANT YOU TO EAT ME NOW!!!"

Everyone in the caravan caught those words. Rick came over.

"What is going on here?" he questioned.

John replied, "Terry can't wait. Terry wants to be prepared now."

Rick explained the facts. He said, "We are on the frontier. You of all people should know, there is a war going on!"

I added to Rick's facts, "We can do you better when we get back home in New Osawatomie."

Terry exploded, "I thought this was a fight for cannibal freedom. I thought we would be free to eat and be eaten. Well, I want to be eaten, AND I WANT IT NOW.

I've been with the revolution longer than most people here. I know what it is all about. I've been shelled. I've been hit. I've been a Zombie. I've been bombed. I have lost my lover, and you son-of-a-bitches want to tell ME that I can't get carved!"

Rick and the rest of us paused for a couple of seconds. I think Rick realized that he had lost this argument.

"What the hell are we fighting for?" he said. "John, get out the field slaughtering kit. We will stop here and give the lady what she wants," he ordered. He continued to explain his orders, "There is a field telephone about a kilometer down the fence line. Robert and I will go and phone home. Command should get the news about Hoversville and Central City as soon as possible."

"What about me, Rick? Can't John off me too? I want it," Lucy asked.

"John can only do one girl at a time. Wait until you get home. We can get HRT from you there," Rick clarified.

"HRT! HRT? That damned Grey has all the goddamned HRT he needs. He has enough to kill all the lawyers a thousand times over. Before we left, he commissioned the biggest dam truth keeper of them all. Half the city's work force had to smelt the lead to make it. The other half dug a bottomless pit to put it in. Then, Grey slaughtered half the women in town to fill his super toy with HRT." Lucy shrieked.

Rick demanded, "Lucy, you must wait. You have only been with us a few months. Terry is an old-timer. She has earned it. You will get your turn."

"I hope that I do," Lucy groused.

Rick took a deep breath. "Ok, guys. Let's get the trailer unhitched from Robert's truck. Robert and I are going to take a little side trip. Command is going to get some good news," Rick declared.

After the trailer was unhitched, Robert and Rick drove away. I saw them leave. Robert was at the wheel. Rick was loading the magazine of his 06.

"Don't be late for dinner, guys!" Terry joked.

* * *

I hated field butchering. The stupid kit was a damn tinker toy set. It took 4 of us to put it together.

Meanwhile, Terry was putting on a show for the gleaners. She was dancing for them. Her newly ripened body turned all the guys on. Terry was quite a distraction. She made it even harder to work the butchering kit.

The rope from the kit was strong. I tied Terry's elbows together. After I tightened the last knot, I pushed Terry down on the ground. She looked at me sensuously, and spread her legs wide.

"Do you want to inspect the meat, John? You are the cook," Terry suggested.

I tore off my chef's apron and unzipped my pants. I grabbed Terry's hips and pushed into her. She was warm and moist. Each thrust into her was a pleasure. I could feel my heart race. For a second I lost all feeling. And then, I let go.

Terry pulled herself out from under me.

She stood up and asked, "Anyone else want to play with their food?"

A couple of the gleaners jumped forward. The closest of them knocked Terry down. Her legs spread apart and gave the man an invitation. The rest of the men lined up.

While Terry 'made friends,' I checked the slaughtering kit. It was amazing how such a complex device was needed to perform a very simple function. Two hooks held the cow upside down by her feet. Third hook pulled her handcuffed hands. Two small hydraulic jacks pulled the three hooks apart.

Terry's last fling took a couple of hours. When she was done, I lead her to the kit. She fit her feet into the two upper hooks. I tied them tight. I untied Terry's elbows and handcuffed her hands above her head.

I was about to activate the hydraulics to stretch Terry when Rick arrived.

Rick delivered his message, "Grey has flipped out. The stress has fried his brain. He doesn't care. Hoversville and Central City could be on the Moon. Do you know what that damned bureaucrat said? He said that we wouldn't need to ride Freedom Road into Pennsylvania. When I asked him why, all he said was, "look North North West tonight.""

"North North West of here is Kansas City. That place has got more lawyers than humans," I reckoned.

Terry interrupted, "YoHoo!! Hel-lo! Hay you guys, remember me? I am the entree du jour. Will you guys quit the geography lesson and finish dinner?"

I stretched Terry out and washed her down. A large crowd watched my every move. The audience was especially interested in the needle I stuck in Terry's neck. The hypodermic drained blood from Terry's jugular vein.

I asked Terry, "Do you have any last requests?"

Terry quietly sobbed, "Carve Dan's name on my right butt. You remember how Dan did it."

I took a large knife from the kit. Its blade reflected the glow of the fire pit. In the blackness of the moon-less night, it looked like the knife was made of fire. The crowd gasped as I pulled the knife back. I slowly cut across Terry's ass. Until Terry's blood smeared it over, the audience could clearly see the three letters, "DAN."

I gave her a last offer, "Do you want a gag?"

"No," Terry answered.

Then, I sliced into Terry's belly. Terry whimpered. She started concentrated breathing to control the pain.

Terry grit her teeth while I cut a perpendicular incision.

She whispered rhythmically, "Dan Dan Dan Dan."

I started gutting her.

She skipped a beat, "Dan Dan D-Dan Dan."

Just then, the northern sky lit up. Terry's tan skin looked weird in the green light.

"I coming to you Dan . . ." Terry coughed.

She died.

The crowd cheered, "Terry! Terry! Terry!" They looked as a huge green bowl filled the northern sky.

Rick said, "North North West, Kansas City."

Under the green glow from heaven, we ate Terry.


DON'T MISS THE FIFTH AND LAST CHAPTER, "FINAL VICTORY!"