End of Women: Part Two

Fair Trade

09:45 AM, Westpark Tollway, Houston TX

Millie opened up a can of reconstituted beef and chowed down. It tasted like raw callouses and smelled worse.

'Is she back yet?' Millie asked Leng through a mouthful of barely-passable meat.

Leng stuck her head out of a small glassless window and checked left and right. Bits of plaster and flecks of paint floated down from the peeling ceiling of the delapidated and abandoned house they had holed up in, making a light snowfall on Leng's gore-tex suit.

'Nothing,' she said, sighing with frustration. 

Millie continued to eat, unfazed. Whenever their scout - was her name Jessica? Jaime? something like that - returned, the story would be the same. Most likely the poor girl had been caught by Wilkes' thugs. If so then all Millie would do was what she was going to do anyway; buckle up and head into town. Scouting was a waste of time considering they already knew exactly what was happening in Houston. The only reason she sent whateverhernameis was to make the other women feel more prepared and less panicky.

'Maybe they don't know we're coming,' said Trish, a relatively new recruit who had sheared her head the moment she joined Nova Femen, and had regretted it once she realised none of them cared whether or not she had long hair, 'maybe the beacon worked!'

'Maybe the rain will turn to bullets and the trees will march on Washington.' Millie snorted at Trish. 'Wilkes knows you all by name. He knows where you're from and why you joined up. He knows your blood type and how many sisters you have.'

Trish slumped away from Millie, beaten. The rest of the five women holed up with her looked decidedly more nervous at that. Millie continued to eat, wondering if it was in her best interests to tell them the truth, as harsh as it was. Wilkes tells his men the truth, she thought, why shouldn't I?

A woman Millie didn't know started to weep silently. Leng went to comfort her. The woman was tall, skinny with platinum blonde hair. She was probably about mid-forties, Millie guessed.

'Something I said?' Millie asked.

'Sorry, Ma'am,' the woman wiped her pretty face, 'its just...'

'Kat's daughter is already in one of their fucking Compounds.'

Millie nodded at Leng's explanation.

'What's her name?' she asked.

'Cindi.' the woman called Kat choked up at the sound of her daughter's name. 

Mille got to her feet and tossed the revolting meal aside. She walked up to Kat and cupped her face softly.

'We will return everything they have done to you, to us, to our sisters and daughters. We will get them back, I promise you.'

Kat stiffened up at this. She sniffed hard and then straightened her back. Millie patted her cheek and then turned to Leng.

'Gear up. Get everyone in position to move out.'

Leng obeyed. Millie left the shelter and stepped outside into the fine rain, letting it soak her skin. She swigged from a small hip-flask, tasting cranberry juice and vodka. The sound of Leng ordering the other four into position, checking ammo, giving call signals and checking her own weapons gave Millie the little lift she needed. Maybe we can actually pull this off.

Leng stepped outside with Millie. The rain soaked her straight black hair and flattened it onto her back, lubricating her pale skin. 

'Kat has another daughter.'