William W Johnstone - Ashes 08 by Danger In the Ashes

Author:Danger In the Ashes [Ashes, Danger In the]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-08-09T13:50:43+00:00

“I’m not your sister. Yes, I’m in charge.”

“Sisters may leave. The men must stay.”

“I told you, I’m not your sister. Why should we leave the men?”

“For breeding purposes.”

“If they just want to fuck,” a Rebel called out from the darkness, “tell “em to come on. Let’s have a party.”

“Shut up, Gary,” Tina said, glad that Gary could not see her grin.

“Pigs!” the woman’s voice was shrill. “Filthy male pigs.”

“Uh-huh,” Gary said. “Now I get the picture.”

“Carry your asses on, girls,” Ham called. “Go do your things somewhere else.”

“You’d better think about it, sister,” the voice called. “We are many and you are few.”

“If you don’t like men, why do you want to breed with them?” Tina called.

“To produce more Sisters of Zenana.”

“Something tells me that they kill any boy babies,” Ham said.

“We run into the most interestin” folks,” Gary said.

Tina didn’t tell him to shut up. As the camp clown, Gary could be counted on to act the fool even under the most harrowing of conditions.

“How much area do you control?” Tina called.

“Why do you want to know?”

“So we can avoid it the next time.”

“There will be no next time, sister.”

“Get ready,” Ham called hoarsely. “They’re coming.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Gary said.

Screaming, the Sisters of Zenana charged. And ran headfirst into death. The Rebel Scouts opened up with everything they had, throwing up a solid wall of firepower. The Claymores were electronically fired, the ball bearings ripping the life out of anyone in their K-Z.

A big .50 caliber added its chugging to the melee, the thumb-sized slugs knocking the Sisters spinning and screaming to the ground.

But even with the firepower, several Sisters managed to breach the camp’s inner perimeters, and the weapons changed from guns to knives and hand-axes and entrenching tools.

Tina was knocked down by a charging Sister, losing her M-16 as she fell. Tina fumbled for her sidearm just as a fist slammed into her jaw.

“Don’t kill this one,” she dimly heard a woman’s voice say. “She’s prime.” Hands roamed her body.

Screw you! Tina thought, as her hand closed on the handle of her knife. She drove the blade to the hilt in the woman’s belly. Blood oozed onto her

hand as she pulled the blade free and drove it in again.

The Sister screamed and fell to one side. Tina jumped to her feet, the big knife at the ready. She looked around her. The fight was over.

From deep in the brush and timber, the voice called, “You are marked for death, Sister. Beware, Beware!”

“Fuck you!” Tina yelled. “That’s probably what you need.”

“Will somebody come get this broad off me!” Gary yelled. “Damned heifer must weigh three hundred pounds!”

The Rebels all heard the faint sounds of feet on the roof. Faint, but very real.

Outside, the shouting and the hurling of stones had increased.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Buddy called to the men with the lead wires in their hands.

The huge complex trembled as the Claymores were fired, the back-blast sending shock waves through the roof-entrance. The bodies, intact and in bits and chunks, were actually hurled from the roof.

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