Anathema Macomber staggered out of the mess tent and into
the dusty open area. The camp
looked empty but there were noises here and there. Signs of life.
Something was still moving out there. She took a long pull from the bottle in her hand and wiped her
chin with the back of her glove.
She sat down in the dirt.
“Well, Daddy,” she said, “what do you think now?” She surveyed the smoking remains and
wind tossed debris of the camp.
“Pretty frickin’ great, huh?
Pretty..frickin’..great.
Daddy’s little soldier has really made a name for her self. Done the old family legacy proud. Betcher proud!” She took another long pull from the
bottle.
“I see you,” she said to a shadow under one of the
trailers. “I. See. You! You
little… why don’t you come out?
What’re you scared of?
C’mon! Come see what
Nathy’s got for you. We all gotta
go sometime. What d’ya say? You n’ me. Nah? Okay, sit
in the dark and skulk. See if I
care.” More bottle. The door on the command trailer bent
back at one corner. She watched
with mild curiosity as a Monotooth crawled out and then turned and dragged out
something behind it.
“Preacher man!
Holy shit!” she slapped her knee and startled the Monotooth. “You’re still alive! Fer now. What a hoot! We
thought you were a raisin! Why
ain’t you a raisin?” The
Monotooth, she thought, actually appeared nervous. It looked around, noted its kin in the vicinity, shouldered
the hapless Ch’Voga and slinked away.
That seemed odd. Pretty
damn peculiar behavior actually for a monotooth. “Well, bye Preacher man. Sorry! Sorry
yer gonna get sucked.”
“I’m sorry you’re all gonna get sucked!” she bellowed at any
of her people still alive in the camp.
If they were smart, they got out, “only save ‘em for a day or two
though. Look at all you
bastards.” They had come out from
under the trailers now. A lot of
them. “One…two … geez! What’re there, ten of ya? Just fer little ol’ me? C’mon then. Come and get some.
Who wants first bite?” A
young one ran in and she smashed the bottle over its head. She kicked at the next one and it
grabbed her boot, then they were upon her, tearing at the pieces of armor to
get at the flesh underneath. She didn’t
let them. With one last, “sorry,
daddy,” she triggered the antipersonnel mine on her chest.
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