sHe: THE RISE OF THE NEW BREEDS [Book 1]

Chapter 8

MARLIN WAS seated in the living room, observing the woman in her late fifties performing a surgery on Joana who was in her undergarments; laid face-down on the dining table. She was under anaesthetic while her grandmother, Mrs Scott was stitching her up, Cynthia and Lee assisting in the procedure...

The sister-boys were also keeping a cautious eye on the 'inferior' visitor seated across—it was the first time that the Aryans had an Intersexual under their roof—and they don't trust him much, especially anyone being part of the Preacher's One God's Army.

Marlin picked up one of the photo frames from the side table from where he was seated—it was of the younger Mrs. Scott carrying a toddler—it could not be Joana because it looked like a turn of the century faded photo; probably taken back in the '80s or 90's—could it be Joana's mother as a baby back then?

He was also not sure if Big Joe of Wesleyan was also from Mississippi.

The Adonis' eyes scanned around for his lacuna of clues—there were a dozen other photo frames displayed everywhere in the living room.

Everyone soon overheard the sound of a plane soaring above the farmhouse, Lee spoke up...

"That is the General's plane."

It annoyed the old woman, and she raised her voice straight away...

"Why is she here? I don't want that bitch or her mother in my house. It is people like them who create a mess like this," pointing at Joana, who spread insensate on the kitchen table.

"Mrs Scott, General Gailman is her sister—please don't make it difficult like the last time." This made Joana's grandmother even more furious...

"This is my house, and I have every right to who steps into my front door. I don't want any more of your Aryan Sisterhood filth under this roof," she pointed at Joana again, and with a cosseted voice, she protested more...

"Look at my innocent girl here—you have all have poisoned her mind with your silly militia ideologies and you went for war bringing her; Joana nearly bled to her death to get back here to me."

"I am sorry, ma'am—the General is already here and I am going to let her in," Cynthia responded back politely back before stepping out of the front door. Marlin stood up to follow her out but the obdurate Lee drew out her pistol and cautioned out harshly...

"You sit the fuck down, she-freak!"

Marlin suppressed his spiking anger that raptured inside his head, and he wished he could teach the supercilious Aryan woman some respect like he did the last time to Joana back in New Orleans—but he reconsidered the requite urge—it was not appropriate to pick a fight and trounce the rude dyke in the house of his host. Furthermore, they have confiscated his rifle the moment he had stepped into Mrs Scott's house.

Marlin sat back again, another photograph frame just caught his attention—it was a four-year-old Joana sitting on a motorcycle with her teenager elder sister, Roxy Gailman...

**

Cynthia ran on the barren field beside the farmhouse to a single-engine crop-duster plane. Roxy who was now thirty years of age—descending down with her Aryan Sisterhood bodyguard, an over six foot tall soaring female giant. They both removed their goggles and stepped away from the plane. It was late evening and the sun was setting when they strolled back into Mrs Scott's farmhouse.