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The Dianic Girl: A Narrative Fiction

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“Cera’s fiancé Tucker and a few other friends of ours from the village, Terra Reich and Marge Hawkins,” answered Katelyn. “The Dianic Wiccan witches I told you about. We need them to steal a few tons worth of ammonium nitrate from a farmer’s supply depot over on the other side of the mountain.” “What’s ammonium nitrate?” Alex asked having been confused. “Chemical fertilizer,” Cera said, speaking up now. “It’s not as good for the environment as my apparently beloved horseshit, but it makes for a really good crop yield—in our case, though, it’s goin’ to make for a really good bomb.” “A what?” Alex uttered as even more confusion became evident across her face. “The plan is a little unorthodox,” began Angela …show more content…

“What if everything doesn’t go right?” “We’re screwed,” responded Katelyn.

*****

A mile outside the village limits of Mount Harrison a black pickup slowly came to a halt as the road before it stood clogged by several dozen men and a handful of women who were congregating among themselves. “Hey, what’s this?” a large woman sitting in the truck’s passenger seat yelled out her window while she reached over implying the vehicle’s horn in frustration. “Awe, come on, move out, we ain’t got all day!” Heads began to turn as she garnered attention. “You just keep yourself hushed and let me handle this, Tucker,” Marge Hawkins then whispered. Several men approached the vehicle, one on his way to speak with the driver the other two portside, the rest remaining a good distance away. “Good afternoon, folks,” greeted Captain Wilkinson, “may I ask where you’re …show more content…

“These mountain roads fall victim to subsidence with all the rainwater that travels down off the mountain. “Um-hmm, trying to come up with any reasons to waste my tax money is more like it,” Marge protested. Wilkinson looked to the rear of Tucker’s pickup noticing the payload and then focused his attention on the driver. “Say, son, looks like you got a good amount of freight under that tarp there, whatchya hauling?” “Oh, don’t bother talking to him,” Marge barked. “My boy, Nathan, here is as mute as a church mouse and as dumb as a mule just like his daddy. But if you must know… pig feed is what we’re moving. Got a hundred and eight hungry swines up at the Airingdale farm just on the other side of the village and it’s best not to keep them waiting.” One of the two grunts on Marge’s side of the vehicle surreptitiously made a move to peek under the top catching Marge’s attention. “Don’t you go touchin’ any of that!” she demanded, “I got everything secure under those tie downs and I don’t need you two idiots screwing everything up for

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