Sharon looked hard at Adam before she spoke. “So let me get this straight. We come and work for you, with you. We don’t get eaten because you have an agreement with this…Squid Lord Rock Star that we don’t get eaten, just all the poor people of darker skin color in this so called Cattle Country we heard about while in Jacksonville.”
“Basically, yes,” Adam answered.
She looked at Susanne. “I don’t know. Sounds as if you are sacrificing Peter to save Paul.”
“She has a point, Director,” Susanne said. “I owe you my life. That Kraken probably would have killed me if you hadn’t jumped in. So, I owe you big time. But this sounds…” Susanne let it hang as she could not find the right word to finish her thought.
Adam looked at the two intelligent and tough women.
“Yes, for the foreseeable future, as the Protocol states, we are sacrificing one group to save another, albeit a small group for a bigger one. Eventually, hopefully, the Protocol of Selective Survival will be adopted worldwide.”
He paused, then continued.
“Look. Is it a sucky deal for some? Yes. Am I condemning some people to death, or at least their children to death? For the next five to ten years, yes. Does it mean the human race as a species survives? I think that is a yes also. Because under this system, we obtain, like the lizards and the grays, not to mention those robocop characters, a worth as a client species, as workers and junior partners. Not just food, meat on the hoof. We become like dogs. Right now, a dog’s life is better than no life at all.”
“For how long?” Sharon asked.
“I have been guaranteed an alternate food source is in the works. Maybe even a cleaned up version of their original primate meat source, with a virus immunity, raised here or maybe in Africa. Though many of the younger generation of Squids, the Tschaaa, have apparently already developed a taste for our sea life. The amount of dark meat needed would be greatly reduced.”
Sharon looked at Susanne. “Director, we can leave now, if we want to. And go kill Krakens, you don’t care.”
“Krakens are a home grown problem that may soon disappear, if they don’t stop eating their own species. Eating your own species is an abomination to the Squids. I’ve whacked a bunch of them for that reason. And the Squids did not care.”
Sharon stood up. “Susanne, I just cannot sign on, knowing that this new ‘world order,’ I guess you call it, wants me to help create a national system that helps the Squids eat one group of humans. So, I’ve gotta go.”
Susanne stood up. “We’re a team, Director. Sorry, but it sounds too much like we’re helping, in a roundabout way, the Squids to eat a bunch of humans who just happened to be born with dark skin.”
Adam sighed. “Well, I keep my word. So, the Chief and I will get you some equipment, supplies…”
“I adopt you,” the Admiral butted in with no warning.
“Come again?” Susanne asked.
“You join my other daughters, I have many under my protection as family. And, as the good Director can tell you, I am my own man.”
“That’s true. He was here before Lord Neptune found me and the Chief. They have an agreement. The Squids leave the Admiral and his Conch Republic alone, he leaves them alone. Hell, he was even granted limited fishing in the ocean, something No One has been allowed.”
Sharon looked at the Admiral. “Is that true? How did you get such an arrangement?”
“His Lordship liked my sense of humor. I think he likes my eccentricities.”
Susanne laughed. “So, we have no connection with him? What if Sharon and I decide to go hunting for his kind?”
The Director shrugged. “That’s your problem, not mine. I don’t go around playing Secret Policeman, tracking down people who try to kill Squids. I may stop you from killing his Lordship, but it would be for the selfish reason that we have this arrangement, of which you don’t want to be a part. The Tschaaa can take care of themselves for now.”
“This is bizarre,” Sharon said.
“Then it is settled,” the Admiral said as he stood up.
“Wait a minute! What job would we have?”
“Why, you can be my bodyguards. My body needs guarding. It is always getting me in trouble.”
The two women laughed along with Wendy.
“Or, you could be my book ends, my special assistants, my eye candy…”
“Admiral, Sharon and I are not eye candy.”
“Sorry. See—I’m in trouble already.”
Sharon and Susanne looked at each other, then laughed again. “Well, Admiral, I guess you have a couple of more daughters,” Susanne said.
“Now, my dears, we will head back to the Conch Republic. I will leave some of my people here to help clean up this Kraken mess.”
“And look for Maria and the kids.”
“Yes, they will help look.”
Susanne walked over and hugged Adam.
“Thank you again. If not for you two, we would be trying to squeeze out that cabin porthole.”
Sharon walked over and hugged the Chief, kissed him.
“You two are tough,” the Chief said. “Don’t think of us as strangers.”
“Never,” replied Sharon.
The two young women were soon escorting the Admiral, with Wendy in tow, to another vehicle.
Adam turned to Chief Hamilton. “They already found Maria and the kids.”
“Yes. That was some of the blood you saw on that asshole’s shoes.”
They stood quietly for a few moments.
“Chief, we do what we have to, don’t we? To keep as many people alive as we can.”
“You got it. And we sure as hell aren’t Krakens.”
The Admiral was driving the large SUV, as they headed south to the Keys and ultimately Key West. When Sharon asked him why he did not have a driver, he replied. “The Admiral prefers to pilot his own course.”
As they drove, Susanne began to question their apparent new employer and minor savior.
“So, Admiral, where will we live? I know we may be your bodyguards or some type of assistants, but I don’t see us living in the same room with you. To put it bluntly, we are no one’s bitches.”
“Perish the thought! The Admiral does not have bitches.” The man seemed a bit peeved, for real.
“So then, where will we stay?”
“You will have either a hotel suite, or a couple of large rooms near my suite. I will only need your assistance when I go out of the hotel.”
“You control some functional hotels?” Susanne asked.
“I have three now. I controlled one before the Tschaaa showed up, now I have three since the former owners no longer have use for them.”
“Where are the former owners?” Sharon interjected.
The Admiral shrugged. “Either dead or they departed, ran. I stayed, survived. So, as possession is nine tenths of the law, I am now in charge.”
“And the Squids let you?” Asked Sharon.
“As the Director said, the one in control who wants us to refer to him as Lord Neptune, liked me and my sense of humor. Said once it reminded him of his own.”
“You talk directly with him?” Susanne asked a bit incredulous.
“They actually speak to us through some excellent translation machines they have. Captain Kirk and Mister Spock had nothing over His Lordship when it comes to such equipment.”
“So we have been dropped into some Hollywood science fiction epic,” said Sharon. “Great.”
The Admiral paused for a minute in the conversation, then suddenly pulled the SUV over to the highway shoulder.
“Excuse me,” Sharon said as she produced the Hand Cannon she had hung onto. It still had one remaining round in it. “You are not going to try something funny, are you?”
“No young lady. Please exit the vehicle with me so that I may show you something.”
The former Los Dos and Wendy stepped out of the SUV and looked around.
“Ladies, you are on the straight stretch
on the overseas highway between Homestead, Florida and the former Florida Keys, now my Conch Republic.” The Admiral swept his arm towards the north.
“Up yonder is Miami. Not secure at this time.”
The Admiral pointed down the highway to the South.
“About a mile further is a checkpoint. From there on is the Independent State of the Conch Republic. We threatened to secede in the 1980s, when the Federal Government became too onerous on our activities. Then, the alien Tschaaa came and we seceded.”
He looked hard at the three young women.
“We take care of our own. I have adopted many daughters to insure their safety from the likes of those Krakens and other scum. The most recent one is Jolene, who sports a scar from an attempt by a Kraken to butcher her. The Director stepped in, and now she is here. You may meet her if you wish.”
Susanne could tell that this gentleman took his role as Admiral, leader and surrogate father in a very serious manner.
“Admiral, we…”
“You may find other living arrangement if you like, if you do not trust me. As they say, it is no skin off my nose.” The Admiral stood still, assuming a regal attitude in his stance.
The three women looked at each other. Wendy stepped over and bear hugged the Admiral, who put a hand on her back.
“Thank you, Admiral,” Wendy said as she squeezed him tight.
“There, there, my dear. No need to try and crush me. I may look a bit thin, but I am strong in a wiry sense. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Oh hell,” Sharon began. “Susanne and I are sorry. We’re just a bit paranoid. Damn. I’ll admit it, scared is the word. Over the last year, our world has been yanked from us. Now, the two of us are just trying to survive.”
In just a moment, the Admiral’s demeanor softened.
“You know what they say about paranoia?”
“What, Admiral?” Asked Susanne.
“Just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean that someone is not after you. Paranoia is God’s way of saying look out.”
The man called the Admiral then stepped back and once again did a grand sweep with his arm towards the SUV.
“Would my ladies please re-enter my chariot. We still have a ways to go. Then you will have the pick of the remaining living quarters. Later, I will treat you at one of the fine restaurants I have helped to reopen.”
“There is no need…” Sharon began and the Admiral held up his hand to stop her.
“No more argument, daughter. Your Admiral has spoken.”
In unison, the two former athletes said “Yes sir”, and re-entered the SUV.
The armed men at the checkpoint waved the SUV through, a couple of them even saluting as he gave them the royal wave.
Susanne reached over in the back seat and took Sharon’s hand in hers. They smiled at each other.
“We’ll make it, won’t we lover?” Sharon said.
“We’re a team,” answered Susanne. ”The best and toughest beach volleyball team around. Of course we’ll make it.” With that she leaned over and kissed Sharon, who returned it.
The Admiral who was apparently watching them in the rear view mirror, then asked. “Are you two willing to share some of your affectionate activities with the Admiral?”
“You’re not going to turn into a dirty old man are you, Admiral?” asked Sharon.
“Dirty?” replied the Admiral. “Never. The Admiral bathes regularly. And he changes his underwear every single day…when he wears underwear.”
The former Los Dos tried not to laugh, as he seemed so serious.
“But,” he continued. “When I do bathe, I would enjoy it if someone washed my back. I would even share my rubber ducky with you two…especially if you washed my front also.”
“Admiral!” The two survivors cried out in unison before they began to laugh, with Wendy in the front seat joining in. The Admiral suppressed a chuckle.
As it had often been said before, it was the beginning of a long and fruitful relationship.
RUNNERS 1
She did not think she could run any faster until she heard the bay of the hounds behind her. Somehow, she managed to make her eight year old legs move a little faster.
She was running away blindly. Her momma had always told her, “Honey, when you hear the hounds, run, honey. Get away, any way you can.”
It was the last thing she had heard her momma scream before they split up. She turned away from momma and ran, just like momma said. She ran through the brush and the woods, oblivious of the scratches on her arms and the tears in shorts and blouse caused by the tree branches, thorns and the other vegetation that made up forests in the Deep South.
Her breath came in rasping gulps as she ran. She felt a pounding in her head from the long period of exertion. But she kept running, just like her momma had said.
She rounded the trunk of one of the largest trees she had ever seen and skidded to a stop, falling down. She laid there looking up the stars, enjoying the feeling that she was safe at last.
She knew she could not remain there forever, as she needed to find her momma. She got up, started walking and stopped dead still.
Almost a dozen feet in front of her was the largest dog she had ever seen. It was not the hound behind her as she could still hear its distant baying. This dog was a large Mastiff. It growled at her with its teeth bared, but stood at bay as still as a statue. Frozen, she stayed where she had stopped. Then she heard the voice.
“Got you, you little bitch. I told Joe Bob you’d run this way. Can’t out smart Ol’ Red! Now hurry up and come here. I'm tired of foolin’ with you.”
She started to scramble in the other direction, the man’s voice having unfrozen her.
“Heel, Bruno. No you don’t, missy.” The large man moved fast for his size, and grabbed her. She did something else her mommy had always told her to do in such a situation. She planted a well-aimed kick to Red’s crotch.
Red yelped in pain, but managed to keep hold of her arm. She tried to kick him again, hitting his thigh.
“You fuckin’ little bitch.” There was a clicking sound, and then she felt a sharp pain in her neck, like that time she had cut herself. Suddenly, the front of her dress was being stained by some warm red stuff. She tried to pull away from Red, felt suddenly weak, and fell.
Red looked at the limp figure he held and the widening pool of blood at his feet. He held the limp body out at arm’s length so the pumping of the cut jugular wouldn't spray him with blood.
It was then the two other hunters came up.
“Goddammit, Red. What the fuck have you done?!” Joe Bob screamed at him as he broke through the bush.
“Oh shit. We’re in for it now.” That was Johnny who spoke, the third member of the pursuit. He held the baying coonhound back so that it wouldn’t get into it with Red’s Bull Mastiff.
“No little bitch kicks me in the balls and gets away with it,” Red began to explain.
Joe Bob cut him off. “The Tschaaa said alive not dead, you fucking moron.” He started to advance on Red in his rage, but Bruno’s warning growl told him to stop. Whatever Red’s failings, he raised and trained some damn fine Bull Mastiffs, which nobody without a 12 gauge dared screw with.
“You think that kick in the balls hurt? What do you think they will do when we take her back dead?”
“Who said we take her back? Do you see anyone else around here? Huh?” Red answered. “We leave her here, say she got away, fell into the canyon river, whatever. No one’s the wiser.”
The three felt it before they heard the humming. Seemingly out of nowhere, the large oval shaped alien craft appeared overhead. The three men stood frozen in place. The two dogs lay down and tried to cover their heads with their paws. A dark blue concentrated light played on the three humans, going from one to the other, stopping on Red. He still had the open switchblade in one hand, and the girl’s limp arm in the other.
“It was an accident,” Joe Bob began talking towards the craft. “Just a
stupid accident. We’ll make it up do you. I promise…!”
A sharp flash of dark blue light and there was a smoldering hole where Red’s genitals used to be. Red screamed once and fell.
A long flexible tentacle appeared and lifted the body of the girl, then retracted to the craft in the blink of an eye. Only the pool of blood remained behind. The humming stopped as the craft disappeared.
Johnny and Joe Bob were shaking with relief, while the dogs began sniffing at the pool of blood and Red’s scorched inert body.
“I told him, Johnny. I told him to be careful. They’re real picky about their meat, especially veal. They want it fresh and alive until they’re ready to serve it. Would he listen? Hell no!”
“Well, Joe Bob, I guess we need to find an ATV or four-wheeler to move him. I sure don't want to carry his big ass out of here on my back. His wife is sure going to be pissed.”
RUNNERS 2
The dark-skinned mother and her fifteen year old daughter moved as fast and as quietly as they could through the underbrush—the brambles, berry vines, stickers and bushes that inhabit the former Deep South—catching their clothes and scratching through their jeans. The mother kept them moving, as they could still hear hounds baying in the background.
“Keep moving, Alesha. I think the dogs are still on our scent.”
The fifteen year old, with teenage model looks and bearing, did as her mother, Glenda Taylor, requested. They had just separated from a larger group of what was once called people of color, as they all tried to flee from Cattle Country.
Cattle Country. The euphemism created by the tentacle alien Tschaaa Lord and its human Director to identify the three-state-area being walled in and fenced off, creating a huge ghetto, a concentration camp. Mississippi, Alabama, and Georgia were being used to contain all humans with darker pigmentation, who were designated to be “dark meat”.
This last attempt of escape from the round up before the barriers were complete and in place had started with one hundred humans. People from East Indian, African, Southeast Pacific areas bound together because of one common trait—their skin color. They would never be classified as white, and as a result they were considered tastier to the Tschaaa.
Free Range Protocol- Tales of the Tschaaa Infestation Page 17
