Tonight was one of those latter nights. My wife was sitting on a stool next to another lady who must have been about the same age as my wife, who was ...9 years old. I was leaning on the bar standing next to this lady enjoying an animated conversation, while her husband was standing the other side of my wife talking to her.From what had been said, I guessed he must have been in his early forties, while I was only three years older than my wife. But I had to admit he looked at lot younger;. “That’s why they’re after me.”“Germans? Good for you,” Mike said. “We haven’t killed any yet, but we’re going to.”“Why’d you kill them?” Jerry asked, peeling blackened skin from his piece of squirrel.“To get away. They’d been beating me and raping me, a whole bunch of them, Hitler Youth boys.” Melissa felt tears in her eyes.“Raping you?” Mike asked, frowning, not sure if he believed this pretty girl with bare legs.“I was a slave, a sex slave at the Pentagon. There’s a whole bunch of us, girls. “At the moment we know what the consequences of Winslow’s actions are; however we do not know what the consequences could be if you do as you suggest. Those consequences might benefit the nation, but then again, they might not. They might even topple our government. You don’t know, and you won’t know until after the fact, and by then it will be too late to stop things from happening.”“So you’re saying it’s better to travel the road you know, no matter how bumpy it might be,” Ridgeway mused in. A great deal of money was spent upon her, his newest toy and possession. She was a beauty to say the least. Eighteen years old. Blonde. Blue eyes. The typical, idealized American girl with a slight Southern accent to her voice. She was exactly what Roland wanted: a slave to take to go to the grave with. Roland was mistaken when he assumed the young girl would be too frightened to fight him off. She was a fighter, a rebellious little cunt that fought and kicked and used every ounce of her spirit.