Daniel had a rough time sleeping that night. He went over his plan several times in his head. It was risky, but hopefully by the end of the day, he would have the trust of the Oakland Clan.

Then maybe he could unite them with the Sacramento Clan and get something going. Daniel was sure that he could get Jilly onboard if he provided a solid plan. The woman knew that she was on a short clock.

At some point he must have fallen asleep because somebody was shaking him awake. It was Tiny, who said excitedly, “Grab your rifle and get up to the top floor. Big Jim and several members of his clan are walking this way with a white flag. Stan thinks they wanna talk.”

Daniel jumped up, and grabbed his M40, along with a few other items. He climbed up to the fifth floor, just in time to see Scooter approaching a group of armed people, numbering about twelve. They were surrounding a very tall black man with bulging muscles who was missing the top half of his right ear.

The Oakland Clan leader wore a tight dirty white t-shirt and grey dungarees. He was all of three hundred and fifty pounds, bald, and tough looking. Through the scope on the rifle, Daniel noticed that the big man had a wandering left eye.

Once they came together, Daniel couldn’t hear what the two men were saying, but he could see that Scooter and Big Jim were having an animated conversation. Scooter was tightly gripping the fragmentation grenade behind his back, while holding the handle in place. Daniel zeroed in on the man’s head.

The M40 cracked, sending a round deep into his skull, causing Daniel to whisper, “Sorry bato.”

Scooter fell to the ground, dead. The fragmentation grenade rolled from his hand, popping the handle loose, and sending the clan members diving for cover in a panic. The explosion came five seconds later, causing the three bikers in the shed to rush out. Daniel was no longer able to focus on them.

“I knew that you were a turn-coat shithead. Now I have you, ya little traitor bitch!” Horndog scowled out, standing at the top of the stairs. He was pointing the two-shot derringer at Daniel, who rose from the prone position to his knees.

“You stay right there, Dat. Ol’ horny is gonna have his way with you pretty boy. Time you learn what it means to be a princess. This has been a long time coming,” the southerner grinned with anticipation.

Dat looked around for his weapon. His 12-gauge was leaning against the tower wall near Horndog. He had come up here so fast, woken from a dead sleep, that he had forgotten to grab his knife. Then Daniel remembered that he had brought his small detachable pack because the single rifle bullet had been in there.

Daniel unzipped the pouch and reached into it. Horndog was unzipping his trousers at the same time with his left hand, while licking his lips as he often did when he got excited, and was pointing the derringer at Daniel. The perverted southerner moved towards Daniel, nearly stumbling in his excitement, and accidently fired the derringer into the wall beside the kneeling man’s head.

“Don’t worry pretty boy, this thing holds two rounds. I still got another one for you if you decide to get squirrely and don’t give me what I want.” Horndog reached Daniel, who was still down on his knees.

“Is this what you want?” Daniel exclaimed, shoving his hand down the front of Horndog’s pants. When he pulled his hand out, Daniel was holding a grenade pin, and said, “Probably not the happy ending that you were dreaming about!”

The perverted man took two steps backwards, pulling the trigger on the Derringer. The second chamber again failed to fire, just like it had for Carl back in Ashland. Horndog dropped the tiny gun and put both of his hands down his trousers to retrieve the grenade.

It was one of three that Daniel had stolen from Hank’s house. Not the one that he had planted, to give to Stan the Man if he questioned him as Daniel had expected him to. No, these were the three that he had planned to keep. The three that would have completed the grenade case.

Daniel came to his feet and landed a solid kick into the fumbling southerner’s chest. Horndog staggered backwards, hitting the rim of the windowsill. The old stone windows had no glass, and a follow up kick sent Horndog toppling out of the window. About halfway down, the grenade went off, blowing the screaming man into several pieces.

Daniel sighed with relief, and looked down at the bikers. Hambone was running towards the tower, while Tiny just stood there staring up at him. The look on Stan the Man’s face was pure evil. If looks could kill, Dat would have fallen over dead right there. The leader of the Dirty Down and Dead glared at him one last moment, and then disappeared around the backside of the shed.

A couple of gunshots cracked off from down below. Daniel wasn’t sure who was shooting. He grabbed his Thunder Ranch and made his way to the bottom floor. Big Jim and several of the Oakland Clan were cautiously approaching the tower.

Daniel came towards the huge black man, noticing a young cute Hispanic girl on the clan leader’s left and an older haggish looking white woman on his right. Another older black female with cornrow hair was right behind the large man After scanning around for the missing bikers, Daniel walked straight up to the Oakland Clan leader.

“I’m Dat. I was up in the tower. I just saved you from that ambush attack,” he smiled, noting that Big Jim was carrying a .22 rifle. He thought that it was a small caliber weapon for such a large man. It was his last thought.

“Much appreciated,” the big black man said in a deep throaty accented voice, then cracked Daniel on the forehead with the butt of his .22, dropping him to the ground in an unconscious heap.

Daniel struggled to open his eyes, not sure how much time had passed. The intense throbbing in his head felt like a locomotive was running in circles between his ears. He managed to get one eye open, seeing the cute Hispanic woman from earlier peering at him. Then he welcomed the darkness as it returned, knowing that it would devour the pain.

Several hours later, Daniel awoke with a start. He realized that he was sitting and tried to get up. It took him another moment to realize that his hands were chained to something behind him.

He tried to turn and see what he was secured to, but any movement of his head brought on the intense throbbing pain. He knew that he was in a dimly lit room, lighted by a small oil lamp that hung from the ceiling, but couldn’t see much more.

“Here,” a very feminine voice said, pushing a spoon forward with some warm liquid on it. It tasted like pea soup.

“There is some Tylenol dissolved into it. Should help with that headache.” The voice was that of the cute Hispanic woman who continued to spoon feed him.

“Necesito usar el bano,” he said in Spanish, hoping that the ruse would work.

“I’m a third generation American. Been here all my life. I don’t speak much Spanish,” she informed him.

“I need to use the bathroom,” he said.

“Yeah, no,” she answered. “You will have to piss yourself or hold it.”

“What are you going to do with me?” he asked.

“We are going to do to you what we do to all bounty hunters. We are going to eat you,” she answered, and after patting him on the head, walked away. Nobody checked on Daniel for the rest of the night, although he could hear some serious arguing coming from down one of the nearby tunnels. The oil lamp in his room burnt out, leaving him in darkness. Soon he fell asleep.

Daniel dreamt that he was lying in bed with Andrea, Adrian, and Alesia. They were all laughing. His wife had the last haircut that he had seen her with. She had cut her long beautiful blond hair, leaving it at shoulder length. He had been upset at first, but now in his dream she looked so cute.

He was holding her and staring into her face, but she started to change. His wife was no longer smiling. Her face slowly froze right in front of him. He looked over at his two kids, who’s faces also slowly froze. Then he was looking down at them, all three lying frozen inside of the overseers’ cylindrical tubes. Daniel awoke screaming.

Standing directly in front of him was Big Jim. With him were the middle-aged black woman with the cornrow styled hair, and the older haggish looking white woman. The hag had frizzy white hair and when she smiled at Daniel, he could see that she had only two teeth left in her entire mouth. He was sure that she would have made a great witch at Halloween back in the day.

“Dreaming about all of the horrible things that you’ve done, bounty hunter?” the huge black man asked, a strong African accent coming through.

“No, I was dreaming about my wife and kids. I think that the overseers have them,” Daniel answered truthfully.

“Yet surprisingly, you have no issue sending other people’s families to them?’ the muscular man inquired.

“It’s not like that,” Dat replied.

“Why did you save us from your friend’s hand grenade?” Big Jim asked.

“They sent my real friends to the overseers, and threatened to do the same to me. I was waiting for a chance to get revenge, and I thought that this was it,” Daniel answered.

“What do they call you?” the clan leader asked.

“Dat,” he relayed.

“And your boss, the one who took half of my ear last year?” The big man continued his interrogation.

“Stan the Man.” Daniel continued with his honesty.  

A skinny light-skinned black man, maybe in his late thirties, came into the room and approached Big Jim, saying with a scared look, “We can’t find the other three.”

A flash of anger crossed Big Jim’s face as he hit the black man with a mighty uppercut that sent him sprawling against the side wall.

“So, you want to be friends?” the black man asked, turning back to Daniel, his anger gone as quickly as it had come.

“Friends don’t usually tie each other up, but yes, that would be a good start,” the captured man answered, looking at the unconscious fellow that Big Jim had laid out.

You killed two of your own group and now we have you, so there should be three more.” Jim thought for a minute, as if making sure that his math was correct, then continued, “We searched the old tower and the campus, but did not locate your friends. Where did you hide your bikes. That will be where they’re heading.”

“We put them in a small school, maybe three miles from here,” Daniel lied, not wanting to get Hambone or Tiny killed.

“We don’t like bounty hunters here,” Big Jim said, staring at Daniel. “Do whatever Olivia tells you to do and things will go better for you.”

With that, the large man turned and left. The two older women dragged the unconscious man from the room. A few minutes later, the young Hispanic woman returned carrying another bowl of soup. She sat the soup down and busied herself re-filling the oil in the ceiling lamp. Dat took the time to study her closer.

He was sure that she couldn’t be much more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight at the most. She had shiny black hair, which she wore in a bun. The petite woman had big brown eyes and had an athletic, almost boyish body. She was wearing military style camouflage cargo pants and a black t-shirt, topping off her outfit with black combat boots.

Daniel couldn’t help but notice that she had an extremely cute face, but knew this wasn’t the time or place to be thinking about such things. Besides, she wasn’t his type. The woman finished with the lamp and came over to him.

“Olivia, I presume?”

“Olivia Reyes.” She smiled. “And I heard that you are called Dat.”

“Yes. It is my initials. Daniel Allen Taylor.” He smiled back, trying to show her that he meant her no harm.

Olivia spoon fed him the soup again, saying, “Sorry. It is still split pea soup. We are running out of food.”

“I’ve had worse,” he advised, but noticed that it did have small chunks of meat in it this time.

“Haven’t we all?” She laughed.

“Look, yesterday I was trying to get loose, but now I really need to pee, and I don’t think that you want me smelling like piss. Can you let me pee? I swear that I won’t try anything. You can bring others in here to guard me,” he pleaded, his bladder now hurting.

“Can’t. The others are all out searching the city for your pals. Besides, Big Jim left strict orders that you are not to be freed. Nobody goes against Big Jim here,” she said, then thinking for a minute, added, “I can help you.”

She got in close to him and with some effort, helped him stand. When he was up, she grabbed a nearby pot and unzipped his pants, reaching inside. She pulled him out and sat it on the pot.

“What the hell are you doing?” he gasped, genuinely embarrassed.

“Are you blushing, Daniel?” She laughed. “No way that a girl’s never handled that thing before. Besides, you got nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Well, can you please stop looking at it? I can’t pee with you watching.” He wasn’t enjoying this at all.

Once Olivia turned away, he nearly filled the pot, causing her to exclaim, “Boy, you really did have to pee! Then she put him back in his pants, and after letting Daniel stretch his legs, helped him back into a sitting position.

“Where exactly am I?’ he asked. “This thing that I am chained to looks like a stripper pole.

“It is. This used to be an underground techno-club back before the war. I must go now. I’ll see you later,” Olivia said, and taking the empty soup bowl and pee-filled pot, left the room.

Later that night, he was awoken by the weight of someone straddling him. He felt hands fumbling with his pants, and realized that it was Olivia wearing a long flannel shirt and nothing else. She smelled like strawberries.          

“Don’t worry, it’s me,” she whispered in his ear, nibbling on it.

“What are you doing?” he asked, thinking that he was supposed to be a prisoner.

“Whatever I want,” she murmured, having freed him.

“You want this?” he asked skeptically.

“If I were to be completely honest, this is Big Jim’s idea,” she mumbled, bouncing up and down on him. “I am actually into girls.”

“Then why are we having sex?” he managed to get out, although now he didn’t want her to stop.

“The clan has had several babies born in the past few years. The last two have had . . . issues. Big Jim thinks that we need fresh DNA. Less inbreeding. Most of us think that is nonsense, that inbreeding would be a generational issue, but nobody goes against Big Jim,” she answered, then added, “Now shut-up and let me concentrate.”

 A few minutes later, it was over and she rested her forehead against his, with a slight smile on her face.

“Do you even want a child?” he inquired.

“To be quite honest with you, having a child during this cluster-fuck actually terrifies me,” she admitted. The word caught Daniel by surprise, as it was one used by marines.

“Not bad for a blushing fellow.” She laughed again, the sound soft and feminine.

“You seem to know your way around a man,” he responded.

“I said that I liked girls Daniel, not that I couldn’t handle a man. Besides. you are one handsome fellow. What the girls back home used to call ‘man-pretty’.”

Daniel chuckled, then said, “Well, I’m glad that you guys aren’t going to eat me after all. You scared the hell out of me yesterday when you said that.”

“Oh, we are still going to eat you,” she informed him. “After you have knocked a few of us up, then they are planning to cook you and serve you for dinner.”

“Wait . . . what? You are cannibals? On no, what was in that soup you feed me? There were chunks of meat in there . . . on no!” he groaned out in a bit of a panic.

“Relax Daniel, we aren’t technically cannibals yet. That was rat meat in the soup,” she revealed.

“Oh, thank goodness!” He had never expected to be so happy about eating rat.

“You’re going to be the clan’s first human, because we’re nearly out of food. Big Jim had heard that the Seattle and Frisco Clans have been surviving that way, so he’s ordered that we are going to try it,” she explained.

“That’s disgusting.” Daniel was revolted.

“Look, most of us aren’t happy about it, but we have children here. We aren’t about to watch them starve. It’s become a matter of survival,” she explained.

“So why the nice routine? Why be so friendly to your future dinner?” he asked, still stunned by her words.

“I was told to have sex with you. If I do have your child, I was hoping to have something nice to tell it. That we got along. Maybe something about you. I know, it’s stupid.” She looked away as if embarrassed.

“Your plan is to say ‘Hey kid, your dad was awesome. We got along real swell, right before I ate him’. Then what?” Daniel mocked, not liking this situation at all.

“Why don’t you stop worrying about it, and just enjoy yourself for now,” she asked, putting her arms around his head and grabbing the pole behind him, kissing him hard on the lips.

The kiss was nice, but he didn’t close his eyes. He was staring at the tattoo that had been revealed when her shirt sleeve slid to her shoulder. It was the ‘eagle, globe and anchor’. The seal of the United States Marine Corps. He broke away from her tight lip lock.

“You were a marine?” he questioned.

Olivia climbed off him and shot back, “No, I wasn’t a marine. I am a marine. I was in Intel, with the 5th Battalion out of Pendleton. I had three years in when the overseers hit us. Me and six other devil dogs held them off for three hours at the battalion armory. We had been at the range that day. Gave those bastards a hell of a fight. Just kept hitting them, but they wouldn’t go down.”

“Did you beat them?” Daniel asked.

“Like I told you, they wouldn’t go down. I unloaded an entire magazine from my M-16, right into the face shield of one of those things. He just kept coming. They finally managed to overrun us. A corporal and I were the only ones to escape. The others got blasted,” she finished.

“So, you eventually ended up here,” he concluded.

“Yeah, my mom and pops lived in Oakland. They were gone by the time I was able to work my way this far north.” Olivia grimaced at the memory. “So, I joined up with the Oakland Clan. Initially there were big plans to resist and fight back, but they all fell apart when the drones came. They can blast you too, so the overseers basically forced us underground and into hiding. We used to shoot the drones down all the time, but now we hardly ever see them anymore. Guess the overseers realize that it is over as well. No sense wasting resources on us.”

“Sounds like you are still loyal to the corps?” he asked, watching her closely.

“I had three years in Daniel. Meritoriously promoted to Private First Class in bootcamp and then again to Lance Corporal a year later. I was going to re-enlist. I would have been a lifer if it weren’t for those stupid aliens. Am I still loyal to the corps? Damn right I am,” she spat out.

“Do---”, he began.

“Shhhh . . . you ask too many questions,” she interrupted him, climbing back on his lap. “Time for round two.”