“So, you’re sayin’ that you’re Commander Dat?” Juan Carlos rubbed his stubbled chin. It was taking some convincing, not because Juan Carlos didn’t believe that Daniel’s name was an acronym for Dat, but because he didn’t believe that Daniel was the same man that they were seeking. “Manny, set up that moose codes thingy we got back in Tijuana.”

Daniel smiled at the man’s mispronunciation while waiting patiently for a man named Manuel checked out his story. Within an hour, the solar machine was up and running and they were able to verify that Daniel was the leader of the Oakland Clan. They also let his people know that he was okay.

“We’ve been fightin’ all the ways up from Mexico.” Juan Carlos and his horse raiders had been waging their own war against the seekers. “My country is devastated. All the big cities are gones. There’re rumors that many of my paisanos are hidings in the mountainous regions of southern Mexico, but we came north. We were hoping to find helps from the Gringos, but so far, we have only founds more destruction.” The man’s English was good, but he had a tendency to add extra s’s to his words and had a heavy accent.

“I’m sure that the invasion was worldwide. I doubt there’s any help out there. We either help ourselves, or dwindle away. That is why we’re striking back in Oakland. We’re takin’ it to them,” Daniel told Juan Carlos.

“We collected peoples in San Diego, then more along the way, and now numbers about two thousand. The horses came from ranches on both sides of the border, many of which were grazing wildly, their owners long gones. We are yours to commands, if you will have us.” The horse warriors looked to be a rugged crew of hardened fighters, consisting of both men and women.

The horses seemed to be in great shape. They were obviously grass fed, and while a bit skinny, looked rugged and sturdy. Many had nice saddles and stirrups, while others had makeshift saddles and a few even had just saddle blankets.

The group had ten old buckboard style wagons as well, that carried all manner of supplies. Fruit, vegetables, ammunition, a couple loaded with scavenged hay, and two for transporting a handful of the elderly and young.

Daniel was also surprised to see that the cowboys were herding several hundred head of cattle. He felt his mouth start to water, thinking about a juicy steak. I guess that saves them from having to scavenge for much food.

“In the beginnings, many peoples died quickly. That lefts a lot of stuff lying about to grab, not to mentions that we have found plentys of horses and cows along the way.” The Mexican leader had seen Daniel looking at his supplies with suprise. “So, will you haves us?”

“I will take anyone who is willing to pick up a gun and fight,” Daniel said, shaking Juan Carlos’ hand. He liked the confident Mexican leader. “You will remain in charge of your people and fight under my orders.”

A very clean force of Juan Carlo’s horsemen left Wheeler Springs on some well-grazed horses. Daniel noticed that only a handful of people had to ride double. It took a few days, but the group finally arrived at the Sacramento Clan compound.

Daniel took them there, because he remembered that Jilly had a very large makeshift stable behind the airfield to house their own animals. The Sacramento clan grazed their horses on the thick grass between the runways. Two thousand more horses were a lot, but they would have to make do. Hopefully it was just overnight, besides the tunnels would be no place for horses.

Daniel had intentionally kept his clan at the same location since he took over. He felt that moving would be psychologically damaging to his people. He needed them to understand that they weren’t running and hiding anymore. They were standing and fighting.

The only incident that occurred during their return ride was when a drone spotted them from a distance out, followed by a green power circle opening up in the center of the horses. Daniel went for his 12-gauge.  

“Wait . . .” Juan Carlos held his hand up to Daniel. “You won’t be needings that.”

The man nearest to the transporter quickly lit his dynamite stick and dropped it into the power circle. It closed a second later. Juan Carlos explained that he had been losing a lot of people to the overseers popping in at will, until one of his men got the idea to drop a “boom stick” into the power circle. When they did, no overseers came through. The green circles were obviously two-way transporters.

A few hours later, they reached the front gates of the Sacramento Clan.

“State your business,” the scar-faced Creeper questioned calmly, although several, more heavily armed Sacramento Clan guards were arriving to face off with the huge horse army standing outside their gates. Creeper wore the same black hooded sweatshirt and black cargo pants that he had on the first time that Daniel had seen him.

“It’s Dat, Creeper,” Daniel said, wondering if the dirty man every changed his clothes.

“State your business,” the scuzzy man repeated, his greasy black hair creeping out from the bottom of his hood like dirty black fingers. The gate guard certainly was single-minded.

“We’re here to see Jilly,” Daniel answered.

They waited for a few minutes before Jilly walked up to the gate, where at least five hundred Sacramento Clan members now faced off against Daniel’s forces. He was worried that someone was going to accidently crack off a round and a shooting war would ensue.

The black-haired clan leader was as beautiful as ever, wearing a turquoise jumpsuit. Daniel wondered how the woman always managed to look so good in such desperate times. Just the magic of Jilly, he supposed.

“We need to diffuse this situation quickly, Jilly,” Daniel said. “Have your people stand down.”

“Why are you here with so many?” she looked concerned, but signaled Creeper to send the others away. Most of her people started to wander off, now that the excitement was over.  

“We need shelter and grazing for a day or two,” Daniel requested.

“How am I going to feed all these mouths?” Jilly was hesitant to let so many in, biting her lower lip in her sexy contemplative manner.

“I understand that it’s a lot to ask,” Daniel said. “But these men have their own food and a herd of cattle.  I’m sure that he could be persuaded to give up a couple. They just need some grass to graze their horses.”

Jillian Johnson literally licked her lips as visions of juicy steaks and hamburgers passed through her mind. It had been so long since they had any beef. Daniel watched the woman, knowing that he had her. Still, she was a fierce negotiator and was always looking for an angle. She could have put the pre-invasion used car dealers to shame.  

“Okay, I guess that we could use some beef in our diet. I trust that you’ll make that happen Daniel, but nobody is coming in unless you agree to stay with me for at least a day.” The beautiful woman smiled wryly. “It’s the least that you can do after leaving Olivia and I without so much as a goodbye back in Oakland. But don’t worry, you’re cute little girlfriend more than made up for your rude departure. I have to admit, I can’t stop thinking about our last night together. So, do we have an agreement? Are you mine for a day? I asked politely this time.”

“Who could say no to that?” the Oakland Clan leader answered genuinely.

Daniel sat down to dinner with Jilly, Juan Carlos, and a couple of the Sacramento Tribunal leaders and laid out his next goal. His plan was bold, aggressive, and they all liked it. It would take a day to prepare their forces, then they were going to hit the enemy hard.

“Ninety miles in one days?” Juan Carlos shook his head wistfully while studying Daniel’s tattered and scribble-marked map. “Technically it is possible, but we would lose too manys horses and they would be worthless in the battle. Two days would still be pushing it, but would be mores feasible. Plus, the horses needs a good rest right now.”

Jilly and Daniel spent an intensely passionate day and night together. After breakfast, he decided to go and tie up some loose ends with Juan Carlos. While Daniel came down the mobile jet stairs, he saw a gruesome sight. Jilly’s two personal guards were lying on the ground in pools of blood, their throats slit from ear to ear.

“Well, don’t just stand there, Dat. Come on down and say hello to your old pal, Stan.” Stan the Man said, pointing his Baretta 9mm right at Daniel’s head from the shadow of the runway stairs.    

Daniel slowly made his way down the steps, contemplating his next move, when Stan said, “Don’t even think about it, Dat ol’ boy. Where's that smoke wagon of yours? Don't tell me that I caught you defenseless.”

“My shotgun's up in the plane with the rest of my gear.”

“You don’t have any of my frag grenades shoved up that tight ass of yours, do ya?” Stan continued.

“Just my pig sticker in my boot,” Daniel answered.

“Well, that sounds just about perfect, doesn’t it?” Stan the Man grinned his biggest grin. “Cause we gonna have us a good old fashion knife fight. Hopefully that she-cat up there didn’t sap away all of your strength. You were in there pounding that for an awful long time.”

“This isn’t necessary Stan --- “, Daniel started to say before he was loudly interrupted.

“Shut up Dat! Shut the fuck up!! I thought that we were friends. Then you put a bullet in the back of poor old Scooter’s noggin. Next you blew off Horndog’s nuts. Man, that was just wrong. Not to mention that you raided all of my cubby holes and stole my stuff. I figured the best way to settle the score was to wait for you right here. I knew that it’d be hard for you to stay away from that sweet honey pot up there. By the way, where’re our pals, Tiny and Hambone?” Stan finished his diatribe with a question.

“Oakland Clan killed them that first day,” Daniel lied, not wanting the biker leader to go after them if this went badly.

“I highly doubt that Dat. You probably got those two pussy traitors holed up somewhere real close, don’t ya?” Stan the Man smirked. “I’ll gut those two lard ass deadweights when I’m finished with you.”

The door opened above him, and Jilly came out with her AK-47, saying, “Dat?”

“Just go back in,” Daniel said. “I got this.

“Yeah Princess, listen to your boyfriend here. Just go back inside before I put a round right between those pretty dark eyes. Besides, you start shooting that big thing and you’ll end up mowing down Pretty Boy right along with me. Go back inside and Ol’ Stanley will be up for his turn in a few minutes,” Stan the Man ordered. Jillian bit her lower lip, then went back inside after Daniel nodded at her to go.

“Boy, but ain’t she a looker Dat.” Stan the Man snickered. “Too bad your woman is a merry-go-round, and everybody gets a ride!”

Daniel knew that Stan was trying to get him upset. He just stared at the dangerous man, calmly waiting for his chance. He could feel the intense adrenaline forcing heat through his veins in a rush of excitement. This was when the marine was at his best.

“Now pull out that pig sticker, Dat. Pull it out!” Stan demanded.

Daniel leaned down and slipped his boot knife free, saying, “Before we do this, I wanted to tell you about your father, Hank.”

“You got nothing to tell me Dat. That old man stopped being my dad the second that he turned me in to the cops.”

“Did he? I had an interesting conversation with the old chief. Seems that he never did turn you in. It was one of the other hookers who ratted you out,” Daniel explained.

Stan the Man scowled at him, and after setting his snub-nosed .38 on the ground, pulled out his own combat knife from a belt sheath. It was the same blade that he had finished Deacon with. “I’m going to slit you from ear to ear, boy.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Daniel said, and dropped his knife on the ground. It was the moment that he had been waiting for.

“Oh Dat, don’t make this easy on old Stan. Pick up that damn knife and let’s dance!”

Daniel pulled his .357 Taurus out from behind his back, where it had been resting in his waistband, and pointed it straight at Stan’s head “Oh, did I forget to mention that I started carrying a handgun?”

“Awww geez Dat. That’s so pussy. Deacon laid down three guns for the chance to gut me with a knife.”

“Where’d that get him?” Daniel stared hard at Stan, unflinching in his resolve.

“Oh, come on now Dat.” The wicked grin had slipped from Stan’s face as quickly as the tables had turned. “Don’t be so rude. This isn’t going to go down like that. I know that you want to fight me just as badly as I want to fight you. The question of ‘who’s better’ is what that brain in your thick jarhead skull is wondering about. A good old fashioned knife fight between two equals to resolve who’s the best, mano a mano, once and for all. Don’t tell me that I underestimated you.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken. You didn’t underestimate me Stan, you misunderstood me from day one and are still doing it right up to your last moment. That mistake is going to cost you your life.”

“Misunderstood you? Hell no! You want this knife fight as bad as I do. That’s what’s rolling around in your head.”

What’s rolling around in my head is a dead woman, who was down on her luck. And because she was trying to make a few bucks as a prostitute, ended up murdered, pissed on, and buried in the back of your father’s yard. Hank’s also rolling around in my head. How you sent me in to kill your own father.”

Stan only glared at him, his anger rising, with his happy persona being gobbled up by his dark side. The transformation was almost visible, like a wolf eating a rabbit.

“Not to mention all of those survivors that you killed and stuffed into those campers over at Emigrant Lake Reservoir. I’m also thinking about all the people that you blasted, including Carmen and Rosie. This .357 here belonged to Carmen. I started carrying it so that I could kill you with it. No, I don’t see us as equals. I just see a rabid dog who needs to be put down.”

“Dat, you were always nothing more than an honor first pussy mari---“. A single gunshot ended Stan the Man’s rant.

“I don’t see the need to listen to your raving lunacy,” Daniel repeated the words that Stan had said when he had blasted the murderer in Fairfield. Thus ended the Dirty Down and Dead.