Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

“I loved to melt those little soldiers with matches when I was a kid,” said Marty.

“Yeah. Well, my Grandpa would give me a dollar for every one I shot at fifty yards while he was watching. But after a while, he told me he couldn’t pay me anymore because I was costing him too much money. So, he moved me out to seventy yards. Hitting those little guys from seventy-five yards took some time to master, but I worked at it over the summer and trained to the point that I could take their heads off pretty regularly.”

“Hmm…”

“You don’t believe me?” she asked.

“Just wondering.”

“It’s doable.”

“Oh, I know it can be done, because I could do it. I’m simply trying to wrap my head around you doing it.”

“Is that so?”

“Hey, I’m just being honest,” argued Marty.

“Fair enough.” She quieted for a moment, but continued after Connor’s nod of encouragement. “Eventually, Grandpa brought out his favorite hunting rifle—a Remington 30.06. He made me work with that gun over the next few years until I could plug straight ten’s at 200 yards. Each time, every time.”

“No kidding? That’s the gun?” asked Marty, indicating the rifle leaning against the house.

“No, not this one. This is a newer version. With a better scope, but yeah, it’s about the same.”

Connor interrupted. “She’s not bullshitting you, Marty.”

“I’ve seen her shoot, sir, remember? She’s not bad for someone with no military training.”

“Yeah, she can shoot,” agreed Connor. “And, she was trained by military personnel. In fact, at this point, I’d take her expertise in any of today’s combat situations. I trust her to cover my ass, Marty—that’s not something I take lightly.”

“Really, sir? She’s that good?”

“Yes, she’s that good. She’s a natural. But, let’s be perfectly clear, Marty. Rule number one is that she’s mine. Understand?”

“Understood.”

“Even a minor infraction of this rule will bring down a shitstorm on your head.”

“Copy that, sir.”

Amanda watched the exchange between the two men, especially pleased at the compliment from Connor concerning her rifle expertise. But then the full content of Connor’s words hit home and a pleasurable warmth suffusing her body demanded her attention. Amanda shifted her hips and bottom on the picnic bench solely for the feel of mild friction and self-stimulation. Smiling at both men, she hungered with a need to please Connor and knew that nighttime might not come soon enough.

“What do you mean, Nicole? How do you propose we let Connor MacMillen find us?”

“I told you I was an artist, right?”

“Yes.”

“I did some bulk graphic art projects in school many years ago. I’m thinking we might send him a personal message. You know, drop a bunch of eye-catchy leaflets like they did during World War II.”

“Leaflets?”

“Yeah! I had the idea when we were flying here. Do you remember when we flew over that strip mall? The one where half the mall had caught fire? Anyway, there was a FedEx store there. I remember saying to myself that there wasn’t any use for a FedEx store anymore… guess I was wrong.”

“Nicole, what’s your point?”

“Paper!” interrupted Major O’Malley excitedly.

“Paper?” asked the colonel.

“Yeah, colonel. We grab reams of it, all different colors, and write messages for Connor MacMillen on them. We can let him know where and when to meet us. We can drop thousands across a wide dispersal area in front of his travels. The more we drop, the likelier he is to find one.”

“I see,” said Colonel Starkes.

“We can put his name big and bold across both sides. Everyone here can help to write the message.”

“Leaflets,” mumbled the colonel. “Nicole, that’s a great idea.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it. It’s simple and it might work. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Hannah. I’m glad to help.” She smiled with some pride.

After a few seconds, Colonel Starkes turned to Nicole. “What do you like, Nicole?”

“Sorry?”

“What is it that you miss most from the old days? Before the Sickness?”

“I’m not sure. Why?”

“I like to reward the people under my care when they have a brilliant idea.”

“No, Hannah, that’s not necessary. It’s just common sense.”

“Sometimes, and I’m sure the major would agree, common sense is awful hard to find.”

“That’s a fact, ma’am,” agreed Major O’Malley. He took the opportunity to study Nicole, obviously enjoying her presence.

“So, again, Nicole, I ask what is it that you miss from the old days? Chocolate? Wine? A certain food?”

Nicole shifted CJ in her arms and smiled, thinking warmly of her past. The major felt a glowing warmth of his own fed by her smile. Nicole felt quite fond of Hannah Starkes. It was refreshing to have another female around. She glanced quickly at Major O’Malley, grinning mischievously.

“Well, Nicole?” prompted the colonel.

“I guess what I miss the most is a sweet and gentle kiss from a strong and handsome man.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s right. One in uniform,” she said, staring brazenly at the major.

Colonel Starkes was surprised by Nicole’s bold approach. When it came to flirtation, the colonel was more old school than most, but she realized the social code of conduct now was entirely different than prior to the Sickness. Nobody danced around the issue anymore; time was too short.

“I think I understand, Nicole. Would you call the major ‘handsome’?”

Nicole studied the major, going so far as to circle the man twice and gazing with an appraising eye. “Yes, Hannah, I think the word ‘handsome’ easily applies to the major.”

“And you recognize, of course, that he is, in fact, in uniform?”

“I have noticed that, yes.” Major O’Malley straightened to his full height and expanded his chest, following Nicole with his eyes.

“Nicole, in your opinion, would the major meet the criteria you’ve established?”

“Yes, Hannah, I do believe that he meets that criteria.”

The colonel turned sharply to face the major. In his eyes was a mixture of fear and excitement.

“Major?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I order you to provide a sweet and gentle kiss to the young lady.”

“Ma’am?”

“Are my orders unclear, major?”

“Yes, ma’am… I mean, no, ma’am.”

“Then, proceed. I’ll leave you for now. I have some business to attend to with Shamus. Nicole, I’ll look after CJ for a while—I think you need a break. I’ll be back in thirty minutes, major. We’ll discuss how to put Nicole’s leaflet plan into effect.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do you care to fill me in on the rest of the ground rules, sir?” It was evening and the three had settled around the small fire in the living room of a fairly spacious house. They had laid several blankets and pillows on the floor near the fire, creating a very comfortable area. It was slow talk time and Amanda leaned cozily against Connor’s shoulder, staring into the fire and absently twirling a strand of her hair. She occasionally cast a glance in Marty’s direction, finding the new stranger interesting.

Marty sat slightly apart from the couple with an excellent view of the rear door. Conversely, Connor and Amanda kept an eye on the long hallway leading to the front door. Pleasantly tired, they knew discussions concerning nighttime guard duty rotation were necessary, but for now, each rested, stomachs full from grilled venison and canned corn. It was a good time for easy discussion.