Linda Andrews - The Meltdown

A soldier appeared at his side. Sweat ringed the armpits of her form-fitting khaki shirt and dust dulled her blond hair. “Ma’am.”

Not a bad rack. Thumbing through the Bible, he studied the new arrival. From the red in her eyes, she might have lost someone today.

“Ah, Lieutenant Lucas.” Mavis set her hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “I am so sorry for your loss. If there’s anything you need me to do, please, don’t hesitate to ask.”

General Flunky’s salt and pepper eyebrows nearly reached his crewcut. Was that dissent in the ranks. He held his breath until his heart rate settled. It was bound to happen with a woman in charge and this their first day out.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” The Lieutenant sniffed and held up a bundled jacket. It jingled like a bag of coins. “I’ll be fine.”

Were they robbing the dead? Trent licked his lips. How could that perk have slipped his mind? Some people would have carried money and valuables.

Mavis accepted the bundle and cleared her throat. Cradling it in her arm, she adjusted the folds. “I appreciate the job you and the others are doing.”

“What will you do with them?” Lieutenant bit her lip.

Yes, what? Trent leaned forward a little. Maybe he could get a look, pick out the choice pieces. Only someone with his exquisite taste would know a cubic zirconium from a real diamond. Besides, he deserved some reward for his important services.

“If any family survives, the effects will be returned to them. The dog tags will be displayed. Their sacrifice will not be forgotten.” The doctor’s voice cracked on the last word. Clearing her throat, she hugged the bundle to her chest and left. General Flunky quickly followed.

So, the head bitch had a heart. Good. He could exploit the weakness.

With a jerk of her head, Lieutenant Lucas imitated their example.

Oh no, you don’t. Trent jogged after her. Not too fast. He loved the swing of her ass. Would it be firm like a ripe peach when he grabbed it, slapped it? His palms itched. Soon he intended to find out. “Lieutenant.”

She stopped in her tracks and faced him.

He almost missed the view, but then those marvelous tits pointed at him. Damn, but he did like big jugs.

“Something I can do for you, Reverend?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

The mass jiggled as if anxious for his attention. He forced himself to look at her face. The view wasn’t as nice but he could maintain it for a while. “Doctor Spanner can only offer so much comfort.”

A muscle flexed in her jaw and her eyes narrowed.

He shifted on his feet, glad his baggy pants hid his erection. Obviously her training set her apart from most women; she actually seemed to sense the predator inside him. The chase tasted sweet. “Perhaps when we stop for the night, you and some of your comrades might join me for…”

He faked a cough. Damn, what was the word? There was a little more to this ministering gig than he thought.

Her arms loosened enough to hang below her breasts.

With his hair hanging over his eyes, he looked his fill. After a second or three, he thumped on his chest like he’d seen others do, then straightened. “Pardon me. What was I saying?”

“You were about to invite me to a Bible Study group.”

Bible study. Yes, that must be it. It definitely sounded serious and boring like most church stuff. “Exactly. There are many who are suffering and only one of me to attend them.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m a Marine.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear then left.

Good. She flirted with him. He watched her walk toward the other soldiers. Definitely lots of promise there. As he knew she would, she glanced back at him when she picked up her shovel.

Her mouth moved but the wind whisked away her words.

Not that what women said was important. His cock twitched. But their mouths could serve a higher purpose. He chuckled at his own joke and stroked the Bible. His good luck charm.

“Reverend?” Another woman called out.

He stilled. God damn it, would he never get rid of that dog-faced whore. He’d already screwed her. He didn’t owe her anything else. Why couldn’t she have been one of the dead? Shoring up his lips, he turned to face her—mouse brown hair, flat chest, a pouchy belly and cellulite ass. He must have been desperate.

“My dear, what can I do for you?” He didn’t use her name, although he knew it. Sally was as interesting as day old flan, and twice as unappetizing. She also didn’t seem to serve much purpose now that they’d left Phoenix. She’d misled him, taken advantage of his shock. He should have known better than to trust a woman.

Laughter drifted on the breeze.

He slanted a glance at Lieutenant Lucas. Of course, big tits compensated for the lies and deception.

“The first trucks are beginning to move out. They house the sick and dying.” Stopping in front of him, Sally smiled, but it didn’t reach her faded blue eyes.

Perhaps his disinterest was beginning to penetrate the cow’s thick skull. God, he hoped she wasn’t the clingy sort. His heart skipped a beat. Then again, there were a rumors of rapes going around. One was bound to end in death, sooner or later. He stroked his Bible. He wasn’t opposed to setting the timetable. “Are the poor souls calling for me?”

She shrugged and stared at a spot over his shoulder. “The Good Book offers them comfort.”

He nodded. Yes, and as the only one who possessed it, he was the only one who could give comfort. If only they weren’t so sick. He hated their coughing, whining for water, and begging to see their loved ones. The military said anthrax wasn’t contagious, but what did they know? Besides hadn’t the government claimed the same thing when the Redaction hit and cleaned so many useless people off the face of humanity?

Thankfully, he was well rewarded for his service.

“Of course. Of course.” He thumbed through the pages. The familiar green and white edge of a fifty dollar bill caught his attention before it disappeared. Shit! I thought I had gotten them all. “I’ll be right there.”

She arched an eyebrow and tapped her foot.

Did she think he did her bidding? She was nothing. No one even noticed her, wouldn’t know when she’d disappeared. “I have something to do.”

He hitched up his trousers as he’d seen some of the uncouth servicemen do.

She blushed and looked at the ground. “Of course. I’ll hold a truck for you.”

Bitch! “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

He waited for her to leave.

She coughed, pointing to a clump of trees in the wash. A stream of white toilet paper waved from thin green branches. “They’ve set up the head down there.”

What was he, an animal? He could hold it until they reached someplace civilized. Then again, anything was better than being with her and he had to get that money—after all he’d called himself Benjamin in honor of it. And with the way people kept touching his Bible, someone was bound to steal it. He took a step toward the wash. “See you in a bit.”

Finally the bitch left.

Sand and gravel slipped inside his boots. His thigh burned as he slipped down the incline. Finally, Trent reached the bottom and stopped for a battered Ford truck to pass. A horse whinnied from the full trailer it pulled. Coughing, he waved away the dust and crossed the packed dirt road and stomped on the crushed shrubs. Using the Bible, he pushed aside the branches then gagged. The place stunk of shit.

Burying his nose inside the crook of his arm, he kept hold of the back cover and flicked his wrist. The pages fanned open with a soft purring sound but the fifty didn’t come free. Gritting his teeth, he shook the cover harder. The bill fluttered loose. He swiped the air to catch it, but a gust blew it out of reach.