--------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Andrew Roller Presents THE FADING UNIVERSE _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Chapter Four The boulevard was dark and deserted. A makeshift barricade had been thrown across it in an unsuccessful attempt to hold back the Alameda army; Marvin could make out the bright letters of the word POLICE on an overturned sawhorse, and nearby an armored personnel carrier with an Ontario insignia painted on its side sat useless, its tread torn from the body and tangled between the sprockets of its wheels. Here and there lay a uniformed corpse. "We're back in business," Frankie announced, running forward to strip the soldiers and policemen of their weapons and valuables. "I claim any food that you find on them," Flaherty yelled. "Save any tampons you find for Elsa," Perry said with a weak laugh. Elsa shot him an angry glance but said nothing. Within a few minutes they had sorted through all the bodies. Perry had gone aside and, in an act of mad catharsis, castrated several of the dead. Marvin spotted Flaherty giving a particularly thorough search to one female soldier who had noticeably large breasts. They continued walking; past gutted buildings, boarded up shops and abandoned tenements. Now and then they would stop and peer inside one of the stores, but most had been ruined by fire, their interiors glowing eerily with flickering embers. "Hey, Marv," Harrigan called out. "There's a city bus inside this store!" "We must have found the local city bus dealer," Marvin joked. He peered past the plywood that had been nailed over the storefront window. The beam of his police flashlight fell on a smashed up bus. "It must have crashed through the back of the building," he thought aloud. He directed his flashlight deeper into the shop but couldn't make out the rear wall in the gloom. By this time Harrigan had managed to jimmy the front door open and he, Frankie, and Flaherty were banging around inside the store. "Sure stinks in here," Harrigan remarked. "Quit letting so many farts, Flaherty," Frankie said. "I haven't cut any cheese all day," Flaherty protested. Harrigan gave a frightened shout. His flashlight clattered to the floor as he began battering himself with blows. Frankie dashed over to the man and began beating him with his palms. "Help! Insects," Frankie cried. Flaherty bolted out the front door of the shop. Marvin and Elsa ran inside, Perry hung by the door. A minute later Harrigan stumbled out of the store's murky interior, shaken but safe. "Do you need any help?" Perry asked, purposely tardy in his offer of assistance. "No, I'm O.K., thanks," Harrigan mumbled. "You alright, Harrigan?" Flaherty called from across the street. Inside the store the bus's engine coughed to life. Its one surviving headlight blazed through the gloom of the store, blinding Perry, Frankie, and Harrigan. The bus lurched forward, and burst through the glass storefront a moment later. Marvin opened the front door of the bus and kicked out a dead body. Several cockroaches clung to the corpse as it hit the asphalt. "Climb aboard," Marvin invited. "It costs a dollar, but I'll waive the fee as long as you promise to abstain from anal sex." "Harrigan and I each have a dollar," Frankie said, dropping the money in the bus's coin box. Elsa helped Perry climb aboard, despite the boy's protestations that he could mount the steps himself. "Boy, this sure beats walking," Flaherty said, hurrying over from across the avenue. Harrigan plunked down behind the wheel, folded shut the front door, and with a wheeze, the bus rambled off down the dim thoroughfare. # # # Agile figures sprinted amidst the shadows. "I think we've got company," Harrigan reported. He reached up and changed the cellophane sign on the front of the bus from "15th Street" to "Not in Service." "Leatherjackets," Elsa breathed. "Hey, we need a lift," a silhouette called from the curb. "It's Harrigan!" someone shouted. "Harrigan's the driver!" A salvo of gunfire shattered the windows along the left side of the bus. "Duck down," Marvin commanded. He crouched behind a broken window and returned fire. Gaudily dressed figures, most of them young males, ran out behind the vehicle as it passed and threw Molotov cocktails at it. Explosions rocked the bus. Perry leaned out the back window, shouting curses. Suddenly a convertible rushed out of an alley and came up alongside the bus. "Fuck you, Marvin," one of the passengers shouted, firing a bazooka into the bus. Marvin dove to the floor of the bus as the blast tore off a section of the roof above his head. "Damn, they've picked up some pretty heavy artillery," Marvin muttered. "They ain't so smart," Frankie grinned at him. The dwarf leapt onto a seat and nimbly pitched a concussion grenade into the convertible. A cry went up, the car careened toward the pavement, and a moment later an explosion erupted. The bus sped past the wreckage. # # # "What's that humming sound?" Marvin asked worriedly. He was standing inside God knows who's apartment, on the second floor of a building. It fronted one of a myriad of dingy little streets that crisscrossed the city. Outside their bus lay uselessly on its side, smack up against the wall of the building. Marvin figured the Leatherjackets had never needed Òa lift.Ó TheyÕd used that little ruse themselves, he and Perry, to rob more than one motorist. A dilapidated pickup truck had shown amazing fortitude in pursuing them. And there were other vehicles, somewhere in the distance, following fast. The chase had gone full throttle, high-speed, two Somali-like Òtechnical vehiclesÓ exchanging gunfire back and forth. Except one was a pickup that belonged in a junkyard and the other was a city bus. Together they blazed through torn-up sections of Ontario. It was a dance of death between two suicidal lovers. Harrigan had gotten something of a lead, fought for amidst the twists and turns of the interlocking streets. But their lead wasnÕt much. In the end, it cost them their bus. Well, the cityÕs bus, actually, but whether there was any real ÒcityÓ left now was debatable. Harrigan had lost his balance on the last turn. TheyÕd capsized and slid painfully across the road. Marvin was standing on the capsized bus, feeling like some sailor on top of a yellow whale, when heÕd seen the LeatherjacketsÕ pickup lurch into view. Their vehicle was smaller. It made the turn. Quickly Marvin hoisted Perry up through a window on the side of the bus. Frankie was leaning out a window on the second floor of the tenement, firing at the Leatherjackets. Marvin dragged Perry across the overturned metal bus and shoved him up into FrankieÕs window. The dwarf sniped at Perry for screwing up his aim. Perry complained that the dwarfÕs gun had gone off in his ear. Marvin could see himself getting a metal enema before either of them let him through. Now what? HeÕd gotten inside two seconds before the enema arrived, but where was he? He let his eyes graze the dirty walls. Behind him Frankie was back at dueling with the Leatherjackets. Marvin heard a wail as one of them was hit. ÒWeÕre outnumbered, though,Ó a little voice chirped in MarvinÕs head. ÒGet your bearings and get your ass in gear.Ó Marvin glanced at an old television. The screen was busted. Maybe Elvis had stopped here for the night, been upset with the quality of the programming. Yeah, this place had been trashed even before the Alameda army had come through. They werenÕt in the high-rent district, that was for sure. But then, they never were. Batman, of course, would simply have slipped up to the buildingÕs roof and leapt across to another building. But Marvin wasnÕt Batman. And neither was Perry, for that matter. Perry wasnÕt even Perry anymore. When Marvin first met the boy he was shrewd, calculating, a modern Hitler. Now Perry, like Hitler, had gone insane. When he wasnÕt ranting about some perceived injustice he was laying plans for an impossible conquest. Meanwhile, Marvin kept about the day to day work of keeping them all alive. With a little help from his friends. Frankie especially, too short for most people to notice but absolutely deadly with a gun. A gun taller than he was. And Harrigan, a walking advertisement for everyoneÕs notion of what a child molester should look like, but surprisingly cool under fire. It was HarriganÕs expert driving that had just saved them...again. (While Perry screamed useless insults out the back window of the bus.) Of course, there was Elsa. When she wasnÕt too busy playing Òriot grrrlÓ fashion model. She was O.K. And Flaherty? He seemed more trouble than he was worth. But he stuck doggedly with the group. You couldnÕt get rid of him if you wanted too. Marvin figured as long as someone wasnÕt shooting at you, they were on your side. But now they seemed to have walked into a trap of their own making. TheyÕd fucked up the bus, and now there were Leatherjackets outside, working their way in toward the building. One dwarf with a rifle couldnÕt keep them at bay for long. "Insects!" Elsa screamed from the hall. Marvin ran forward. He found her standing at the top of a staircase, gazing down at the hallway on the first floor. Marvin dashed over to her and peered down. Thousands of black cockroaches covered the floor below. ÒOh, shit!Ó Marvin cursed. Well, one benefit of the insects was that theyÕd keep the Leatherjackets out. But it was like a pact with the Devil. He didnÕt want to get shot by the Leatherjackets. Then again, that was nothing to getting eaten alive by bugs. The black mass below writhed, as if it were some giant beast, sniffing the wind. Suddenly, as if responding to some primal cue, they rushed up the stairs. It was a flood. A flood that flowed uphill, and it was fast. "Frankie!" Marvin called out frantically. The dwarf was still merrily preoccupied with trying to kill his fellow man. His shots rang out the apartment window. ÒHee! Go to mama!Ó Frankie chirped to himself as he offed another Leatherjacket. ÒAnother Leatherjerkoff gone!Ó ÒAnd only twenty million to go,Ó Marvin muttered aloud. Wildly he turned his head to try to locate everyone. Flaherty, Harrigan, and even the enfeebled Perry were shooting their asses up the stairs to the third floor, leaving Marvin and Elsa behind. At the top step Harrigan whirled about, realizing that Frankie wasn't with him. Usually the dwarf could be counted on to be right at his heels. But Frankie loved killing even more than fucking. Marvin dashed into the room and grabbed the dwarf. He scooped him up, like you would a small child. There was no time for dignity, no time to ask permission. He ran from the room and dashed up the stairs to the next floor. Behind him he heard shocked cries from the Leatherjackets. TheyÕd used the capsized bus as a staircase into the second floor of the building. ÒGuess they didnÕt know the building had tenants after all,Ó Marvin thought. The carnivorous kind, smaller than Frankie and much more deadly. Impossible to kill too, outnumbering even the Leatherjackets themselves. As they climbed through the second-story window the Leatherjackets dropped haplessly into the roaches. ÒSo much for the advance guard,Ó Marvin muttered. But there would be more, many more. There were always plenty of Leatherjackets. Marvin glanced over his shoulder at Elsa. SheÕd made it, thank God. Up the stairs while he was in the room with Frankie. She was swatting off one or two hardy little bastards that had managed to catch onto her jeans. The rest of the insects had gone straigt for the Leatherjackets. May as well eat everything on the second floor before going up to the third. Bug psychology. Psychology Today, courtesy of the roaches of the world. Eat whatÕs fallen on the floor before you race up the stairs for more. Bugs didnÕt go for the bone in the river when they were holding one in their jaws. "Gee, thanks Marv, I'd forgotten about Frankie," Harrigan said. Marvin turned his glance away from Elsa. He grinned at his trusty driver. "You almost had to go out and buy yourself an inflatable doll," Marvin quipped. "Do they make inflatable male dolls?" Flaherty asked. "Not for you," Frankie replied. "Sorry." "I resent that!" Flaherty objected. "Marvin, tell Frankie to quit picking on me!" "Oh, go fuck your empty potato chip bag," Elsa snapped. ÒLetÕs get going,Ó Marvin said. Now was not the time for squabbling and backbiting. But then, ÒnowÓ never was. They seemed always to be on the run lately, as if Death had decided their time was up. Was it playing with them, watching them Òtwist in the wind,Ó so to speak? Or was Death just a little slow. After all, centuries of killing could slow anyone down. Maybe the Grim Reaper had developed arthritis. It was chasing them, just not quite fast enough. Not yet. ÒLook for a fire escape!Ó Marvin called ahead. They needed something to get them up out of the hallway on the third floor. The top floor, it was, the tip top floor for this slum dwellingÕs must exclusive tenants. Perhaps there would be a helpful sign. ÒThis way to roof.Ó Or, ÒEscaping insects? Right this way.Ó Someone should make signs like that. ÒIn case of total societal collapse, follow the yellow arrows.Ó As luck would have it, the roof had fallen in. Around the corner, down the hall. Of course, there wasnÕt always supposed to be a roof. Sometimes one floor just merged with another. Now, though, concrete reinforced layers blocked any upward movement, to keep one class of people from Òacting suspiciouslyÓ in the neighborhood of another. Ontario had drawn inward over the years, before the War that had ended its empire once and for all. Then, rebuilding after the War, it had built more walls between its citizens, even more than it had built during the decline preceeding the Great and Final War, as some called it. Now buildings that were supposed to connect the floors often didnÕt. ÒExcellent!Ó Perry announced, upon viewing their route to the roof. It was as if the boy thought heÕd created it himself. In fact, it was Harrigan whoÕd sallied ahead to find it. With Frankie, of course, always with Frankie tagging along, directing the man where to go. Harrigan happily obeyed his beloved dwarf. And together they found things like escape routes made out of collapsed roofing materials. Harrigan and Frankie went up first, with Perry just behind, and Flaherty. Marvin helped Elsa over the tumbled roof slabs, while keeping one eye on PerryÕs less-than-athletic efforts. ÒDonÕt take up mountain climbing, Perry,Ó Marvin thought to himself. Of course, Perry wouldnÕt take up mountain climbing. HeÕd ask that the mountain be delivered to him. Surely Marvin could find a way. ÒAfter all, why do you think I consent to having you in my gang?Ó Perry would ask Marvin, as if his friend remained dismissable at will. As if Perry could just go on without him. Marvin wondered if Perry realized their ÒgangÓ was down to himself, two sodomites, an airhead and a fatso. A few moments later Marvin stepped out onto the rooftop. The gloom of the city spread itself before him. Someone had blasted through here recently, reducing many of the nearby buildings to rubble. The air filters must be working overtime to clear the place. Thanks to the man-made view, Marvin could get some sense of where he was from this vantage point. There were buildings, of course, as far as the eye could see, some merging upward into the floor above, some topped off with a roof like this one was. He thought he saw the Emery building in the distance. There was still a lot of smoke hanging in the air, obscuring everything, distorting it. Garish arc lamps stretched across the ceiling at regular intervals; marching off into the distance. Many were burned out. What little light they did provide seemed to turn the overhanging smoke into wraiths and spirits of Doom. In the glow you could just make out the cityscape, once thriving, now a haunt of Leatherjackets, perverts, roaches, the remnants of a society gone mad. And now there was some new war ravaging Ontario. Some unknown army from far away, come to conquer and kill. As if Death didnÕt have enough victims already. ÒI think we can get across, Marv!Ó Frankie called out in his pipsqueak voice. He and Harrigan were over at one end of the roof, sizing up a new escape route. ÒThank God for a breakdown in city planning,Ó Marvin thought. Someone had built a rickety ladder up into a little hole that was cut into the ceiling above. It was on the next roof over, of course (nothing was free in this universe), but there was a board connecting the two roofs. Worn, wiggly-looking (Elsa might look nice going across it), but Hell they could manage a fucking board, couldnÕt they? Below, Marvin heard gunfire. Or, rather, he let it seep back into his consciousness. The Leatherjackets sounded like they were trying to blast their way through the roaches. Dumb, dumb. (Marvin hoped.) There were cries of agony as some Leatherjackets got shot or eaten. Death throes. Cries of anger and frustration. Marvin let his eyes refocus on the board. Frankie was already on the other side now, scampering over to the makeshift ladder. ÒHey, Marv! I think this thing might go up into a WEALTHY section of town!Ó Frankie called out gleefully, peering up, his voice just audible. TheyÕd built soundproofing into the walls and the roofs, into the very material the buildings were made of, a thousand years ago, to cut down on the echoes youÕd normally expect to get. Walls, roofs, with a ceiling above, voices should bounce all over the place, but they didnÕt. Marvin had to shout to make himself heard by the dwarf. ÒLetÕs hope theyÕve all been killed and we can loot the place,Ó Marvin called back. ÔCourse weÕd need someplace to spend whatever we got. Details, details. ÒMarvin, this will be the beginning of our new offensive!Ó Perry announced to him grandly. He stood with one foot on the board, waiting for Harrigan to get across before he himself went over. ÒDonÕt break it!Ó Flaherty called out. Either heÕd been slow (for once) to get across first and save his own skin, or Flaherty was letting Harrigan test the board for him. Dwarf-crossings didnÕt count when you were a fatboy like Flaherty. ÒWith this offensive we shall have Ontario entirely within our grasp!Ó Perry crowed. There was a manic grin on his face. His hair, uncombed as usual, hung slant-wise across his eyes. Perry swept it out of the way with an exaggerated gesture. ÒDeutschland!Ó seemed poised on his lips. Or something Germanic, anyway. Nazi Socialism. The Power of the Will. ÒIÕll stand on the board while you walk across,Ó Marvin offered. ÒVery well. I shall make my crossing now,Ó Perry said. And off he went, awkward as ever, the board bulging ominously downward as he stepped out. ÒHurry up,Ó Marvin thought. Yet, if he hurried, the boy might plunge to his death. But if he didnÕt, Marvin might have to play host to the bugs. ÒWelcome to our fine rooftop restaurant. Your dinner is served!Ó ÒI should have gone next! I got here first!Ó Flaherty whined at Marvin. ÒThereÕs two ways off this roof,Ó Elsa warned him, edging toward Faherty with a bitchy look on her face. ÒIÕm not complaining, IÕm just pointing out the justice of the matter,Ó Flaherty replied. ÒUnfortunately, Death doesnÕt believe in justice,Ó Marvin said. ### "This shopping mall is under the control of the Alameda army," the Lieutenant announced. "You will surrender your weapons. You are now prisoners of the city of Alameda. Co-operate and you will not be harmed." So they had come out underneath a shopping center. Probably Westminster Mall. Marvin had been wondering what building would require such a cavernous basement. "Here's all our guns," Marvin said, casting his plasma Gatling into the pile of arms. "But listen: we just climbed up from a tenement on the floor beneath this mall, and it was crawling with insects." The Lieutenant's face turned pale. He called two privates over to carry away the guns. Then he hurried off to report to his commanding officer. "This way," a sergeant said to Marvin and the others. A group of half a dozen soldiers, part of a basement patrol, escorted Marvin and his friends to the lingerie department of a Famous Bar store on the first floor of the mall, where they joined other captives. ### The department store shuddered as artillery bombarded the mall. Marvin and Elsa exchanged anxious glances, their hands slipping into each other's palms. "We're under attack," the Lieutenant, suddenly appearing, shouted to the prisoners. "I suggest you take cover!" "Must be the city cops," Marvin said to Elsa as he pulled her underneath a table. "Just so it's not the Leathernecks," she breathed. "Or the mutants," Marvin added. Or one of a hundred other groups inside the sprawling city that would find quick work for any cache of arms that they happened upon. Suddenly the ceiling above them collapsed in a shower of cement boulders and broken plaster. "You O.K.?" Marvin asked Elsa as a snow of alabaster dust drifted down upon them. "Yeah." She coughed. Marvin crawled out from underneath the table. "All I asked for was a refund," Perry quipped when he saw him. Marvin spotted Flaherty's feet sticking out from underneath a rack of women's dresses. "Marvin? Are you still there, Marvin?" the fat boy's voice quavered. Harrigan appeared, dressed in a see-through nightie, with a flowered corselet around his thigh. "Pull your pants on," Marvin told Harrigan. "And get Frankie." 30 ----------------------- Dreamgirls! ----------------------- -Back issues (and stories): type http://www.dejanews.com/ into your browserÕs ÒLocationÓ window. Press your ÒreturnÓ key. Click on ÒQuick SearchÓ, then type in: roller39@idt.net Press your ÒreturnÓ key. Scroll to the very bottom of the page that appears. Change ÒStandardÓ to ÒCompleteÓ roller39@idt.net is already typed into the window. Click in the window behind the ÒtÓ in Ò.netÓ Press your ÒreturnÓ key. -Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/ -Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868 - JOIN the worldÕs greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership. NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018. -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others copyright 1997 by the respective copyright holder. -END OF story EMISSION