“ If you let me have that, I’ll fix something for the pup.”
Angie paused for a minute, then handed it to him. Staying low, he went to the back storage room. Darryl came out with one of his remaining water bottles. He then went to a display rack along the rear wall of the store and searched the packages of adult sex toys. Darryl found what he wanted. Using a box cutter, he opened the package labeled Baby Boys Booby. Below the title was ‘Just Like Mommy’s.’ He soon had a realistic breast with an equally realistic nipple out. He had a supplied squeeze bulb and tube connected in record time.
“If you would mix some of that powdered milk in that water bottle, Missus…”
“Joanne. Call me Joanne, please, Mister—"
“Darryl will do.”
In a couple of minutes, the milk was mixed, and the puppy was introduced to the faux but realistic human nipple. The pup soon got the message as Angie slowly squeezed the bulb and supplied the excellent tasting liquid. Angie giggled.
“Look, Mom. He has his own boobie!”
“Angie!” Joanne started to scold her daughter, then saw Darryl had a small smile on his face. She smiled back.
“We owe you, Darryl. Big time as my husband would say.” At the mention of her husband, her face seemed to darken. Darryl reached over to one of the cans from the packs and picked it up.
“Hmmm. Green beans. Can I share this with you? My last meal was a cracker and an antacid tablet?”
“Oh, of course! Angies, hand me the P-38 can opener.”
“I have one of those on my keychain,” Darryl said. “Military?”
“My husband. Submariner.” The cloud on her face came back.
“I still have some scotch left. Want a drink before dinner?”
“I could use one. Thanks.” Joanne sniffed, wiped a tear from her cheek. In the background, Angie giggled as the puppy sucked vigorously.
Darryl supplied the libations and Joanne, with the help of Darryl’s expedient field stove, served up some warm green beans, lightly toasted bread with butter, and a couple ounces of powdered milk. The scotch seemed to help relax Joanne. Darryl told the women they should keep the rest of the milk for the pup until they found some more supplies. Angie readily agreed and made another feeding for the puppy, now christened King. Angie took King out near the back alley door to ‘do his business’ on some old papers Darryl had saved. He also showed the women the toilet facilities and explained the situation.
“No water in the system, so we put a trash bag in the toilet and, well, you know.”
“I have a couple large trash bags in the bottom of my pack,” volunteered Joanne.
“Good. I still have a couple rolls of t.p. With you here, we should be able to do a little scrounging. Angie can be the lookout.”
Angie beamed at the situation. Darryl could tell she wanted to do something, anything, that made her useful and in control.
“Today we rest. This has been stressful. I have a couple of jackets and a coat to use for bedding. I’ve been sleeping on the smelly sofa in the back. Sorry I can’t offer more.”
“Mom, I have to go the bathroom.”
“Okay, Angie. I’ll watch King.”
When Angie was out of earshot, Loanne asked a hard question.
“Was that the first man you…killed?”
Darryl paused and thought for a moment before answering.
“I shot at a couple of Hadjis in the Mid East as an Army grunt. I think I hit one, may have killed him. Now I did shoot somebody once, here in the States. For my Bosses.” He looked ar Joanne intently.
“You know who runs places like this, right?”
“ I have heard, Darryl. So, tv and the movies have some truth to them.”
“Yeah, so, a guy owed a debt. My boss told me to make it past due. Gave me a twenty- two with a silencer.”
Joanne’s eyes widened a bit as she spoke.
“So, you—"
“I shot him in the shin. A dead man can’t pay you anything. I told him the next shot would be in the family jewels.” Darryl grinned. Then continued.
“Funny how he somehow found the money to pay up.”
“So, Darryl. He lived.”
“For a month,” Darryl Answered. “Then his wife caught him in bed with the neighbor. Stabbed him right where it hurt. He bled to death.”
Joannes’ mouth dropped open. Then, she tried not to laugh, but couldn’t help herself.
“God, I’m horrible!” she finally said. “That poor man.”
“Yeah. If I shot that guy in the balls, he wouldn’t have been able to screw the neighbor. Might have lived another ten years.”
Joanne had trouble holding King she was laughing so hard. Angie walked out and asked,
“What’s so funny?”
“I was just telling your Mom a story about playing ball games.”
Joanne lost it. Darryle had to take King from her as she laughed so hard, she plopped down onto the floor.
Angie and Joanne were soon asleep with a semi-full stomach. Some more scotch for Joanne helped her relax. The Sun had not set when the two women were sound asleep. King snuggled up close to the two warm human bodies. Darryl sat in his desk chair and watched the innocent sleep. To keep busy, he first cleaned the Lugar, then checked the two recovered pistols. Darryl counted just five remaining rounds for his Lugar. The beat-up .38 revolver had three live shells. Now the .45 Colt automatic, that was a different matter. Judging by the gold and silver inlays, the pistol had been owned by someone with money. It still had seven rounds in it. Darryl just knew that dead Bud had a spare magazine or two, but the arrival of the harvester rob prevented him from doing a good body search. Well, it looked basically brand new. Darryl cleaned and reloaded both of the pistols. Then he sat. The man was just not tired. All the events of this day had wired him up as if he had drunk a full pot of coffee or took a hit from crystal meth. Thus Darryl sat and thought.
He had been putting off scrounging for food and water. Now Darryl was being forced into it. The supplies that Joanne and Angie had brought would last maybe three days if they were careful. Thus, he and Joanne would have to go out and scrounge. As he came to grips with this fact, the ‘soldato’ in the Mafia realized he had been scared for the last three weeks. The Squid aliens, as they were called, were this terrifying boogyman that had frightened him into inaction. Darryl chuckled to himself. All these years being around the violent sociopaths that populated Organized Crime, and NOW he was afraid. One of his former bosses had pulled him aside one day to discuss his future. Darryl’s birth name had been Largo from Italy. He had anglicized it to Biggs years ago as it drew less attention from certain Federal Agencies. Thus, he could have some upward mobility.
“Well, Darryl, whaddya ya want to do?” The Minor Boss talked just like a character out of a bad Mafia Movie. In fact, he looked a lot like a character from a certain popular Cable Network Show about “Our Thing.” Of course, Darryl never mentioned either item.
“What do you mean, Boss?” he replied.
“Look it. You have always been a good ‘soldato’—a soldier, worker. But you’re not dumb. So we know you want something more.”
Darryl paused for a moment. He had known this conversation was coming. He knew that people who claimed they were not aggressively trying to better their lot in the Organization, made the Bosses nervous. Just like those people who were too pushy made them worry that they wanted to take someone's place. Things that did not fit in their prearranged pigeon holes disturbed them. Thus, Darryl’s answer had to be careful.
“Boss, don’t take this the wrong way, but I like where I’m at. I have a new wife, she has a bun in the oven, and you pay me well. You even let me earn a bit on the side, which you get your share of just as soon as I earn it.”
The minor boss had held up his hand to stop Darryl.
“Hey, my man, no one is questioning your honesty. Hell, all these years, never short, never late, you never complain. So, you know, people worry. You’re not like every
one else. So people worry about people who are different. Especially in this business.”
“So. Boss, please,” replied Darryl. “Don’t worry. You have always been fair to me. Thus I am loyal. I don’t have any hidden skeletons in my closet. I don’t want to be a, a, supervisor. I am a worker bee. I like that. Fewer headaches.”
The minor boss had stared at him for a few moments. Darryl knew he was processing all that had been said, according to the Mafia way of doing things. Which could be dangerous. The Boss spoke.
“Nothing gets to you, does it, Darryl. You’re not scared, worried, are you?”
“Should I be?”
With that answer, the Minor Boss laughed, threw his arm around Darryl as he spoke.
“Ole Darryl. Solid as a rock. Nah, no worries, my man. You want to stay working outlets for us, so be it.”
“One question, Boss.”
“Shoot.”
“These young guy coming up…” Again the Boss held up his hand.
“Say no more. You’re protected by me and mine. I’ll tell those young punks to leave you and yours alone. Or else.”
No one ever wanted to learn what ‘Or else’ meant.
A whine from the pup King jerked Darryl back to the present. As quietly a possible he padded over to where the two redheads were sleeping and removed King from between them. He carried the puppy to the back door area and let him do his business on the newspaper. Then the Mafia Soldier returned the puppy to a spot between the two women. King snuggled up next to Angie and was fast asleep. Darryl tiptoed back to his chair and sat back down. He looked at the sleeping innocents and thought about what could have been. If things had been different, maybe he would still be with one of his two ex-wives. Perhaps the Mafia would have let him go to the straight life. He snorted to himself.
“Yeah, right,” he whispered. “And I could have been a movie star. Or a stockbroker. Sure, with all my training.” No, Darryl knew his experience had made who he was. A soldier, Bag Man for the Mafia. Nothing more, nothing less.
Darryl took another slug from his bottle of scotch. It was getting low. He had a bottle of champagne some wiseguy had left, and a tallboy malt liquor took off of some drunk patron. No other hard stuff was in the store. Another item for scrounging in the coming days. With that thought, Darryl made his way to the old stained sofa in the back storage area. He plopped down and tried to fall asleep. Finally, he dozed off.
Darryl Biggs awoke to the sounds of Angie and her mother talking. They were trying not to wake him, so he laid and listened.
“So, Mom. Are we going to stay here?”
“Where else is there, Angie? Darryl saved us, could have given us up. He seems honest enough.”
“But, is he really…safe,” Angie asked. “Those men at the church seemed safe. Then they tried to… touch me.”
Darryl opened his eyes at that comment. He thought he had two sons and two daughters somewhere. Maybe. If someone had tried to grope them…
“I know, honey,” answered Joanne. “The harvesters came and took them. Karma.”
“And they almost got us, Mom. I’m scared.”
Darryl rose and walked out to where the two women were talking.
“Morning. Depending on what happens, I may add the ‘good’ later.”
Joanne smiled at him as Angie went over and picked up King.
“You have plans, Darryl?” asked the mother.
“A quick attempt on scrounging from a delivery truck in the alley. See how that goes. But first, some breakfast.” Darryl mixed a bunch of catsup packets with a can of tomato soup to make them three mugs of hot liquid that passed as an attempt at some tomato concoction. That and a few saltines gave them a hot breakfast.
“Not bad, if I say so myself,” opined Darryl.
“Thanks, Mister…” said Angie.
“Largo. My real Italian name. Not the anglesized Biggs. Back to who I really am.” He looked at Angie and then Joanne.
“ And your last names?”
“Smyth,” replied Joanne. Darryl stepped forward with a proffered hand.
“Please to meet you, young ladies.”
He shook hands with both of them, which elicited a giggle from Angie. Darryl scratched King’s ears, and the pup licked his hand.
“Well, now that we are all formally introduce, shall we compare notes?”
The next half hour they shared their story and their knowledge of what happened and was happening. While Darryl had been able to hide out in his adult sex store, Joanne and Angie (short for Angela) had to leave their neighborhood after some rocks hit. They tried to make it across Puget Sound to the Bangor Submarine Base where her husband’s boat was, but things were chaotic. Then they heard that a couple of rocks had hit the Base. Joanne knew that they would have to find a place to hide while things were sorted out. They tried a church on the outskirts of Seattle, but that almost turned into a disaster, Sick bastards tried to molest Angie, then the harvester robs showed up. Joanne and Angie made it out the back of the church as the harvesters came in the front.
“So why then downtown?” Darryl asked.
“I thought maybe we could find a Navy or Coast Guard vessel who might help some military dependents,” Joanne replied. “But it was too late. We didn’t need the radio to tell us the Squids own Puget Sound now.”
Before the batteries died, Darryl had heard on his transistor radio that everyone was headed towards the interior of the U.S., away from the Coast. The Alien Tschaaa, their formal name, was advanced cephalopods, “Squids.” Naval vessels only pissed them off.
“Did you hear about who they preferred to eat?” Darryl asked.
“They started to prefer people of color. The darker skin, the better,” said Joanne. She shivered. “Those racists Krakens they call themselves, followers of the Squids, fit right in.”
“Those three at my door weren’t Krakens,” said Darryl. “They were just feral ass- I mean, miscreants.”
“Well Darryl, whatever they were, thanks again.”
“De nada, like they used to say on the Mexican border. Now, we need to plan our scrounging and scavenging.”
An hour later, Darryl and Joanne were exiting the rear alley door of the shop. Some twenty yards away in the alley was a former national delivery service truck. Angie performed lookout duties after Darryl had shown her the workings of the Luger.
“I’ve shot a gun before,” Angie said.
“Well, here. You work the slide this way. It's loaded now. Point and shoot center mass, then run like hell.”
“What if a harvester rob comes?”
“Don’t shoot,” replied Darryl. “Shut this back door and hide. Let your mother, and I handle it.”
Darryl had checked out Joanne in the operation of the .38 revolver, and he had the.45 automatic. He had no idea what effect they would have on the harvesters, nor any alien.
And with that, the two adults dashed to the delivery truck. The doors were unlocked, yet no one had ransacked it yet. They grabbed boxes and large delivery envelopes, stuffed them in two large garbage bags as Darryl counted to one hundred silently. When Darryl’s count neared one hundred, he motioned to Joanne, and they scrambled back to the rear shop door. He grabbed an unopened water bottle from near the driver's seat as they exited. Then they were at and into the rear of the shop. Darryle closed the rear door and locked it as quietly as he could. Angie went to the box bed they had made for King and kept him quiet as the two adults went through the loot.
Darryl looked up, held his finger to his lips in the near-universal signal for silence. He tiptoed to the rear door and pressed his ear up against it to listen. The man heard a familiar electric whirring as a harvester rob went through the alley. He waited a couple of minutes until he was sure it was gone, then went back to the two ladies.
“Damned things are still scoping things out,” Darryl said. “They must have some type of motion sensors or something in the streets and alleys.”
“So what do we do?” asked Joanne
.
“First, we inspect our loot. Then, I check our water supply. I need to figure out when we have to go out again.”
The raid on the delivery truck had netted pharmaceuticals, some clothes, a couple of promotional fleece blankets, some food samples and various packages of batteries. Their big score was a couple dozen packets of a chocolate protein drink.
“Milkshakes!” Angie had squealed with pleasure.
“We’ll mix water with them,” said Darryl. “Which brings us to the next task. How much water do we have?”
Darryl soon had them helping him drain the last bit of water out of his hot water heater. Using the pans and containers he had, Darryl opened the drain on the tank. They recovered about a gallon of water before the water turned into a trickle.
“I knew I was low, but…”
“What now?” Angie asked.
“Well, I have a couple of water bottles in the back. Here, share this one I took from the truck.”
Thy passed the water bottle around, with Angie sharing a bit with the puppy. Darryl sat for a few minutes in thought.
“Well, there was a Stop and Rob two doors down on the street corner,” he said. “I guess we wait a few minutes, Angie plays lookout again, and we go on another raid.”
“What about that harvester?” Joanne asked.
“I think it didn’t stick around. We hit the store for water, and anything else we can find that is easy to carry. It may have been looted some, but…”
“You think the Squids hit the downtown, so fast and hard that people took off?” Said Joanne.
“Yes, I do. After the first day, when the rocks hit, I did not hear any activity on the street. The owners of that store, some Koreans, did not like me much, so they did not share much. But, they would not leave it wide open. They also have a couple of other locations, so they probably lit out for them.”
Joanne pause in thought for a few moments. Then she answered.
“Okay. Let’s get to it before that harvester swings around again.”
The set up was as before. Angie performed as lookout, and the two adults were the scavengers Darryl looked at Angie.
Free Range Protocol- Tales of the Tschaaa Infestation Page 26
