Tom Locke: Surviving Today XVII
Women are like aliens. There is so much beauty on this planet from sunsets that pull you inside out to fields of wild flowers that make you want to melt into the ground before you. Still, women are on another level. They are five dimensional beauty. They curve and flow as though God had poured them of some exotic substance. As though he trimmed them himself to fit man’s every need and desire. Yet, the physical is just one of the many dimensions of these incredible beings. The patience, the compassion, the powdery touch, the intelligence to tame the beast in us all, the ability to be mother and lover. Alien. Something to aspire to.
“My Daddy grew up on this land. Don’t think we dont know bout your silly little playground on the top of this mountain. I outta put a whole in you right now. It’s about time you disapear back up top of that mountain.”
Tom watched as this situation deteriorated in a the blink of an eye.
Najair raised his hands and didnt say a word. Through the darkness and amid the chaos Tom could feel the fear and anger radiating off of his teammate.
“Go on now. No. No I am not here to help you. You won’t get your hands on me, towel head,” she pulled her cross out of her shirt and held it up with the hand not holding the gun, “and you’ll have to cut my head off to get this cross from around my neck.”
He took a deep breath, still in hiding, and moved slowly out of cover. He raised his hands and prayed that a luger wouldnt penetrate his chest in the woman’s sheer panic. She didn’t see him at first but it allowed him time to speak in a nice calm and deep voice.
“Ma’am. Please ma’am. We are running from that same playground. Only its anything but a play ground. They are planning something awful up there. Something that you couldn’t imagine. I am a survivor from the plane crash days ago. The only survivor. We need help. We need to warn people across this country. These beasts,” he pointed up the mountain, “are marching their soldiers tomorrow night. All over this great nation.”
She stared at Tom for what seemed like an eternity. She kept the gun on Najair.
“What is he your hostage?”
“No. He was a prisoner up there, too. He may look like the enemy and may even worship like them but trust me he has killed more of them than I have coming down this mountian. Please.”
The night spoke for a while as this woman absorbed the situation that stood before her. Crickets chirped and twigs cracked. The whisper of the wind above them influenced the trees to hold hands and beg this woman below them to save America.
Whether it was sheer luck or not didn’t matter.
She told them, “come out in the light so I can see ya.”
They both stood before her and showed her their wounds. They showed her their guns and handed them too her. Had they wanted them back they could have over powered her. This was about making her comfortable about this decision.
“My name is Tom Locke, this is Najair.”
Piling into the truck the group of two became three and they truck skidded back down the mountain from whence it came. Things began to move much quicker for the two of them. They needed to be patched and fed. A few hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt but until they made it to a phone or a major news outlet that simply couldn’t be.