Hello and welcome to my readers. Thanks for your votes, PC's and e-mails on my previous stories. This story contains the use of firearms and violence. If this is unpleasant for you read no further and thanks for stopping by. For the rest of you love and adventure await. Enjoy.
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"Close this shooting range! Close this shooting range!"
Marissa Lyons was hot, thirsty and tired.
Where is everyone else? They should have been here by now.
She continued to wave her 'Close the Shooting Range' sign and called to the passing cars. The City Council was in talks to cease funding the Public Shooting Range as a cost-cutting measure, which explained her presence there.
Dr. Perkins, her political science professor, was always urging his students to become active in public decision-making. He didn't like guns or the people who owned them, so he had urged his students to protest further funding by the Council at the range entrance that Saturday morning. He felt it was an immoral enterprise and a waste of the city's money. He could not join them, however, due to a last minute faculty meeting.
Several of Marissa's classmates had agreed to meet and protest at the Range entrance. They all shared the professor's views on political matters and were eager to follow his example. Marissa had arrived two hours ago, but no one else had appeared.
Marissa's roommate had dropped her off on her way to the mall; her cell phone battery went dead, and she had no ride back to the dorm. If her classmates didn't show up soon, she was in trouble. The people entering the facility ignored her, and she felt she was wasting her time.
"Where
is
everyone? They said they would be here," Marissa muttered in frustration. "What I wouldn't give for a drink of water."
A pick up truck pulled over and stopped. Two men got out. The taller man was dressed in jeans, a striped short-sleeved shirt, and a ball cap. His companion was short and stocky, wearing dark blue overalls, a sweat stained blue t-shirt, and a ball cap.
The tall one said, "Hey little girl, why don't you run along home to your mommy and quit trying to cause trouble?"
Marissa scowled and stood rigidly, clutching her sign.
Little girl? I'm twenty-one years old. Who does this redneck think he is talking to me like that?
The men continued to taunt Marissa. "Hey," said the stocky one, "She looks a little hot out in this sun, let's dunk her in the creek and cool her off."
The men laughed and walked menacingly towards her, approaching from each side. Frightened, Marissa dropped her sign, backing away slowly, eyes darting from one to the other. The men approached her grinning, and then stopped suddenly. Marissa continued edging away until she bumped into a hard body and screamed as strong hands gripped her shoulders.
"Hiya Daveβ¦Hiya Bob," said a contralto voice from behind her, "You boys weren't thinkin' about botherin' this little lady, were you?" The men stepped back, looking scared and respectful.
"Naw, Andy," Bob replied. "We were just kiddin'."
"Yeah, Andy," Dave said. "We were just foolin' around. Honest."
"Competition's gonna start soon," said Andy. "You boys better get a move on or you'll miss the sign-up." The chastened men shuffled back to their truck and drove away.
Marissa turned slowly and looked at her rescuer. She was awestruck. Andy was one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. She was tall, over six feet, appearing to be in her early thirties. Her white blonde hair, closely cropped on the sides of her head and spiked on top, contrasted sharply with her tanned skin. Her large breasts were barely contained in a camouflage tank top. A fitted pair of knee-length shorts in an identical pattern rode low on her narrow hips. Ankle boots and brown socks completed her outfit.
"Now, Lil' Bit," Andy said, "what are you doin' out here all alone, botherin' folks who just want to have a good time?"
Marissa was fascinated. The woman's face was slightly angular; her lips red and full, beautiful white teeth, an aquiline nose, high cheek bones and compelling azure eyes that seemed to be gazing into Marissa's very soul. She felt like a six-year-old caught running through her neighbor's flower garden.
"I, I wasn't bothering anyone," she said, drawing herself up to her full height of 5' 10. "I am conducting a legitimate demonstration against an immoral enterprise. It's my constitutional right to protest," she concluded haughtily.
Andy grinned.
She's feisty. I like that in a woman.
"What's your name, Lil' Bit? I like to know who I'm talkin' to."
"Marissa. Marissa Lyons," she replied. "Is that really your name - Andy?"
Andy's hearty laugh startled Marissa, "Actually it's Andrea Vaughn, but everybody calls me Andy. Only my momma called me Andrea, and that's when she was mad." She laughed again, noticing that Marissa had relaxed and was giving her a tentative smile. "You want a drink? You look a mite thirsty."
"Oh yes, please," Marissa replied. "My friends were bringing stuff to drink, but they never showed up." She frowned, "It appears I'm the only one who cared enough be out here."
"Stood you up, did they?" Andy snorted. "Some friends you have. C'mon, I have soda, juice, water. What's your pleasure?"
Marissa had not heard Andy drive up, being focused on her antagonists, nor had she noticed what she had arrived in. "Wow, is this yours?" Marissa asked excitedly. This was becoming an amazing day for the young girl.
"Yep," said Andy, patting an olive drab fender. "This is 'Ol' Blood 'n' Guts', 'OBG' for short; named it after General George Patton."
"It's a jeep, a real Army jeep," Marissa marveled. "I've seen them on The History Channel. Where did you get it?"
"Won it in a shooting contest in Oklahoma, a couple years back," Andy replied. "Those ol' boys figured they could outshoot a woman easy. Well, they figured wrong."