The saying "If you want something done right, do it yourself" kept running through Madeline's head as the motor home turned onto I-80. All she needed to do was sneak into Heckel's camp, end his pathetic existence and get on with building her empire.
Overall, the RV made good time until it hit the outskirts of a large city. Then Madeline's cleanup crew had to remove debris and burned-out wrecks. Occasionally, the small entourage would encounter bands of desperate people who had no idea who they were attacking. Madeline would usually let her men deal with them; however, at times she would do a bit of target practice.
The caravan had just entered the edge of Cheyenne when Madeline's driver had to stop the Prevost motor home because of a large man-made roadblock. About twenty people came out from behind a large pile of debris. They were armed with clubs, pitchforks and other primitive weapons. They looked like rejects from a remake of Frankenstein or an old Mel Gibson Road Warrior movie. If one combined the two films, the result would be angry townspeople, dressed in ragged leather vests and black-studded collars and waving torches and farm implements into the air. Madeline stepped out of the rig, stretched and said, "You folks should probably move all this shit off the road and let us pass."
They all started laughing.
"I'll take that as a no." Both of her palms immediately produced two energy balls that crackled loudly. She pitched one at a group of men. The ball exploded with a ten-foot energy blast that instantly incinerated the attackers. "That's the last time you will ever laugh at Madeline Blackwell," she yelled. As the remaining people dispersed, she hurled the other ball of fury at the roadblock. Debris flew in all directions, clearing the road.
As Madeline walked up the steps of the RV, rubbing her hands together as if they had been soiled, she muttered, "That was fun. Let's get going. How long until we stop for the night? I'm getting hungry."
"An hour or so. If my memory serves me correctly, there is an old Good Sam campground in Laramie."
"Great. After that workout, I'm ready for dinner," she said, sitting down on the sofa.
"There's some cheese and sausage in the fridge," Quincy said, driving past the smoldering debris left on the road. "And a nice cold beer. That should hold you over."
Smiling seductively, Madeline came up behind her driver, nipped his ear and whispered, "I'd rather have you for a snack right about now." Suddenly, the motor home pitched to one side of the road.
The next few days were uneventful and Madeline was rapidly getting bored. It took almost two days to get to Salt Lake City because of the wreckage and debris on I-80. There were numerous turned-over semi-trailer trucks and car piles.
That night, Madeline felt frisky. She invited her driver, Quincy, to join her for dinner. She could tell he was a bit nervous and reticent. So with a bit of batting of her eyes, smiling seductively, and telling him that she was lonely, he was putty in her hands.
"Come back in an hour or so," she said. "I need to freshen up a bit. Go tell my chef to have dinner for two." Quincy nodded politely and left.
An hour later, almost to the minute, he knocked on the door, and Madeline yelled for him to enter. She was in the back bedroom putting on the finishing, glamorous touches. He stood at the front of the motor home with his jaw practically hanging to his knees. Of course, Madeline had that effect on men when she wanted to. She just adored their reactions.
Madeline, knowing that she was dressed to seduce, walked into the room with a strut that would rival any supermodel on a runway. For a top, she chose a sheer black blouse with an enticing black lace bra underneath. Madeline wore black satin Harem-style lounge pants and short black stiletto boots. Those alone were guaranteed to reduce Quincy into a blubbering mass of malleable flesh.
"Good evening, Quincy. Sorry to keep you waiting," Madeline said, striking a pose near the table. "Please have a seat. Would you care for an adult beverage?"
"Um…a…well, a…yes, anything's fine," Quincy said, trying to catch his breath. He spoke like a man who had just received a frontal lobotomy.
Ah, I got my mojo workin', Madeline thought. Men are so easy to manipulate. Clearly women are the dominant species.
Quincy kept staring at Madeline like a deer in headlights as she brought out a bottle of Pendleton. As she reached into the freezer for ice, she lifted one leg behind to reveal a little of the stiletto boots. She could have sworn she heard his heartbeat from across the room and quite possibly the sound of soft panting. She poured two glasses and walked over to the sofa.
"Here you go, Quincy. I hope you like Pendleton," she said leaning down so that he could get an eyeful of cleavage and a whiff of perfume.
"Terrific. It's been ages since I've had a good whiskey and Pendleton is the best. Thank you," he said.
Madeline noticed his hand shaking as he took the glass from her. She sneered, knowing he was beyond putty; he was now more like a warm, sleepy puppy. She giggled inside.
They chatted for a while about the trip, the weather and other mundane topics. Every so often, Madeline would switch crossing her knees to flash him a look of her alluring, sexy boots.
A soft knock on the door, followed by an announcement from the chef that dinner was ready, came just at the right time. She was getting bored, not to mention enormously horny. She asked Quincy to go unlock the door. The chef and his assistant came in with several covered plates. A young teenage girl kept sneaking glances at Madeline as she set the table. Madeline smiled at her as she moved her black stiletto boot up and down.
"Will there be anything else, Miss Madeline?" the chef asked.
"Mario that smells absolutely exquisite. No, I'm sure we'll be fine. Thank you."
After dismissing everyone, Quincy with his best gentlemanly manners, pulled the chair away from the table to seat Madeline.
"Thank you, Quincy. Such good manners," she said kissing him softly on the cheek as she sat down.
Quincy stumbled briefly as he sat down. He was either a bit tipsy from two glasses of Pendleton or her little kiss made him woozy.
Following dinner, it didn't take long to seduce Quincy. Madeline slowly undressed him. After taking off his shirt, she marveled and commented, "Impressive abs. You have a six-pack. I don't think I've ever had a lover with such a physique."
He blushed and thanked her. His lovemaking was very good, in fact, one of the best. Madeline was satisfied, very satisfied.
The next morning when she awoke, she felt the other side of the bed and discovered that Quincy had gotten up. Madeline frowned. Too bad, I would have enjoyed some morning sex. Oh well, no rest for the wicked. Now there's an appropriate saying for me. She laughed and stretched.
"Good morning, Miss Madeline. I have fresh coffee for you," Quincy said, putting a steaming cup on the nightstand.
She reached over and grabbed him by the shirt. Pulling him down, Madeline then kissed him passionately.
"I'm sorry to interrupt this, but there is someone here to see you," Quincy said.
"It better be good," she said impatiently.
Quincy backed away from the bed and excused himself. Madeline got up, peeked out the window and saw three large men shuffling around outside the front RV door. She put on a bathrobe and told Quincy to ask the men in. Picking up the coffee, she took a big sip.
When Madeline walked into the front of the coach, the men were crammed onto the sofa. Standing near the dinette table, Madeline asked, "Who are you and what do you want?"
All three men stood up clumsily and tipped their hats. Images of The Three Stooges flooded into her memory, and she almost giggled.
She told them to be seated as she topped off her mug with more hot coffee.
One of the men reported the status of the two massive armies waiting in Oregon. Another asked if she would be visiting the troops.
"Gentlemen, I appreciate your visit and I am very happy to know our soldiers are doing well. As for a visit, well, hmm…I don't know if that's going to be possible at this point. I have other more pressing matters to attend to. However, please send them my regards. Now, if there's nothing else for you to report, I'll bid you good day."
The third man cautiously put up his hand as if he were the shy kid in first grade.
Madeline grinned. "Yes, what is it?"
"What happens after the…um…battle?" he asked sheepishly.
"Excellent question," she said pacing around the kitchen area. "We begin a new world, one that is dominated and controlled by me. And I want you to know all my loyal soldiers will be rewarded with untold riches, property, and countries for that matter. We will rebuild the planet to serve…darkness. It is clear that humanity desires evil and has embraced it wholeheartedly over the years."