NAN (2025 Edit)

Set in the future Nan are bear-like creatures that terrorise and eat human

23rd December - 15,453 AD
Approx. 9:00 PM

Natalie Coleman, a pretty-ish pixie-cut seventeen-year-old brunette was walking through the dark streets of inner New Melbourne, just hoping to get home alive. Her slave-driving boss had insisted that she work late tonight, before her three days paid leave from Christmas Eve to Boxing Day.

Looking around the deserted streets of New Melbourne, a once thriving metropolis, until the Nan had arrived a few centuries ago, she thought: All I want for Christmas is to get home alive! But she didn't dare say it out loud, for fear of attracting the Nan. They had excellent hearing.

She was near the corner of Lonsdale and Swanston Streets when she heard a rushing sound across the road. Hoping it wasn't a Nan nest, she backed into a dark crevice near a shop doorway and looked across the road.

Two young men raced out of a doorway followed by half a dozen Nan. Vaguely humanoid, the Nan were vicious killers and devote meat eaters.

The two men were very fast runners, but the Nan quickly ran them down. Looking midway between long-legged bears and short-ish gorillas, the Nan dragged the two young men down and began tearing at them with their razor-like teeth which protruded outward, giving them a small snout.

Snorting like pigs at feeding time, they began ripping huge chunks off the two men and eating them alive as they screamed and cried for help that was never coming.

Wanting to look away from the horror that was happening across the street, Natalie was transfixed, unable to take her eyes off the six horrors. And the two teenagers, whom they were devouring alive. Snorting like pigs, they ripped away arms, legs, and genitalia to devour as the blood gushed over them from the living limbless once-were-men. Who were now just a living meal for the hungry Nan.

Please don't let them see me! Please don't let them see me! She prayed to a God she wanted to believe in. But no longer could.

She knew that she should duck down so that the Nan could not see her. But her legs refused to bend. So, on her feet she stayed, watching in horror as the ursine horrors chewed and slurped up the two teenage males, not caring who saw or heard them. Not afraid of anything or anyone, since they had taken over from Man centuries ago as the dominant species upon the planet Earth.

Who but another of their kind, would dare take on a Nan? Certainly not Natalie Coleman.

One of the Nan suddenly stopped eating and stared straight at Nat. He's seen me! thought Nat, starting at the sudden metallic sound from just behind her.

Looking around she saw the former shopping plaza's rollup metal shutters had started slowly, rustily upwards, shrieking metallically until they were up just under two metres. Then an old man with long grey hair stepped out carrying some kind of metallic tube. A gun? Nat wondered, although she had never actually seen a gun, or rifle in her young life.

"Get inside behind me!" ordered the old man.

Not needed telling twice, Natalie raced into the large marble-floored foyer area, as the old man stepped out a pace. Then he discharged the metallic device which made a horrid booming noise, shooting some kind of large pellet at the Nan.

The pellet exploded without hurting any of the Nan, falling well short. But the hellish explosion was enough to frighten off four of their number. The other two stood their ground, glaring defiance at the old man.

Putting another 'pellet' into the tube he fired it again. This time over firing and just missing the two Nan.

The Nan roared their rage at him. Then picking up one of the bloody limbless torso's each, they threw them across their shoulders, then raced after their fleeing companions.

Stepping back into the building, the old man pressed a red button on the wall, just inside the doorway. The metallic shutters started to shriek rustily as they slowly lowered to the ground. Then with a loud snap, locked into place.

Turning around, he said: "So what are you doing outside at this hour, little lady?"

"Slave-driver boss insisted on me doing overtime tonight. Before my three days Christmas Leave."

"That all you get, three days?"

"No, I get three more days over Easter, three over Mother's Day, and three for Father's Day. Twelve days paid leave a year isn't bad these days." Lowering her voice as though afraid of being overheard, she whispered: "I've heard rumours that people used to get four weeks paid leave a year, plus public holidays, whatever they are. But I'm no dummy, so I don't believe the rumours."

"Well, you're one of the lucky third who can still get work," said the old man: "The two the Nan got tonight were eighteen and nineteen and had never had work. They had to forage for food since their parents threw them out when they were eleven and twelve."

"Howja know?" asked Nat.

"They slept in here for the last few years. But none of us had eaten in three days, so they took the risk of going out tonight. Told them not to, but their bellies got the better of their commonsense."

He hesitated then asked: "Don't 'spose you've got anything for an old man to eat?"

Reaching into a brown paper bag she carried, she took out a small crumpled-up red and yellow cardboard box:

"Got some scotch finger bikkies my boss gave me as my Christmas bonus. Half a box actually, I think he ate half of them, then gave me the others so his wife didn't know he'd eaten them before coming home."

"No, I couldn't take your Christmas bikkies."

"'Cause you can. My three sisters and me have got heaps of corned beef and bread. We're planning to feast on corned beef sandwiches over the next three days."

"Well ... if you're sure," he said, taking the scotch fingers: "Corned beef sandwiches for Christmas dinner?"

"Yeah, pretty good, eh," said Nat.

As the old man started eating the small biscuits, he led Nat through the building to let her out the rear security door.

"You're welcome to stay here till morning."

"Nah, my sisters would panic if I didn't come home. They might do something dumb like go outside looking."

"Okay then."

With that, the old man opened the security door, looked carefully both ways outside, and then held the door open for Nat to leave.

"Bye," said Nat, being shushed by the old man.


Twenty minutes later she was in her three-room flat with her three sisters: Holly, a fifteen-year-old redhead, Petra, a twelve-year-old ravenette, and little Talia, a seven-year-old blonde.

"Whatcha got for us?" asked Talia by way of greeting.

"Only myself," said Nat.

"No bonus this year?" asked Petra.

"You got half a bag of stale lollies last Christmas!" pointed out Holly, clearly disbelieving her.

"Did you eat dah bonus yourself?" demanded Talia.

"No, I did not," said Nat, going across to the small fridge to make herself a corned beef sandwich with stale white bread and no spread. "All I got was half a box of Scotch fingers and I gave them to a poor old starving man, who saved my life from some Nan."

"A wikely torey!" said young Talia. Standing arms akimbo, like a miniature Wonder Woman.

"He needed them more than us. We've got plenty of corned beef and bread."

"Well ... hokay," conceded the little blonde girl. "Can you make me a corned beef sammich, pwease?"

"Here have this one," said Nat, handing it across: "I'll make myself another one."


The next three days went well enough for the four Coleman sisters, despite occasionally hearing screaming from outside in Collins Street. They glutted themselves on corned beef sandwiches and played Snakes and Ladders, Chinese Checkers, or Scrabble. Although Nat was the only one who had ever been to school, so she had to cut her three sisters a lot of slack with their exotic spellings. Having learnt years ago that it only caused hurt feelings if she tried to make them stick to correct spellings.

On the day after boxing day, Nat was up early to head off back to work.

"Remember to get us more food," said Petra.

"And hopefully some margo for our sammiches," said Talia.

"I would have got some margo before Christmas if Scrooge McDuck hadn't insisted on me working late."

"I didn't know that was your boss's name?" said Holly.

"Well, it is," said Nat with a smile, as she cautiously stepped outside.

Although the Nan usually only came out after dark, it paid to never assume that you were safe in New Melbourne. 'Better paranoid than sorry,' her father had said the day before he and their mother were killed and eaten by the Nan.

She headed up Swanston Street to Lonsdale Street. Down the centre of Swanston Street were strange-looking metal rails. She had once been told that something called trams, or Street Cars had once run along them so that you didn't have to walk everywhere. But she wasn't sure if she believed such a tall story.

At the corner of Swanston and Lonsdale she hesitated, spotting something tall and humanoid in an archway. Then a man, nearly two metres tall, stepped into sight, chewing something.

"Lucky B," said Nat. She hadn't made herself any sandwiches for lunch so that her sisters could have lunch. So she would have to find some small place to buy lunch. Vendors sold usually cold pies or sausage rolls out of pushcarts around the City. But they liked to change location every day. Afraid that the Nan might keep track of them.

Natalie didn't believe that the Nan was that intelligent. Still, 'Better paranoid than sorry,' as her father had said.

Halfway up Lonsdale Street, she found a small chemist shop which had had the glass-frontage smashed to pieces. Inside lay the skeletons of the owners, clearly devoured by Nan. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to go inside. Much of the drugs had already been pilfered. But she found some vitamin D tablets for her sisters since they never went out into the sunshine. She also managed to find a few boxes of strong painkillers, a couple of boxes of antibiotics, and two large bags of Jelly Beans. Which had fallen behind the counter, which is why earlier raiders hadn't found them.

"Score!" she said, adding the lollies to her brown paper bag. She turned to leave, then decided to try the cash register. The money slots were empty, but when she forced her small right hand down the back of the till, she found thirty-five dollars in small notes that had fallen down there.

"Score!" she said again, pocketing the money.

"Sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Li-Chang," she said exiting the chemist shop: "But we need this now more than you do."


It was nearly 7:00 AM by the time that she got to work.

"Just on time," said George MacDonald, her boss.

"As long as I'm not late," she said sitting down to switch on her computer. The business had its own generator for power, but whatever the internet was, if it had ever really existed, it was not connected to MacDonald's computer system.

Nat, placed her things into her drawer, carefully locking it, then started taking inventory.


By noon she was starving. She logged off and then headed outside to find a cold food vendor.

After half an hour, she located a small vendor selling small pies.

"How much?" she asked.

"Two bucks each."

"For those tiny little things? They're not much more than baby pies."

"Take it or leave it. And they're called party pies ... but don't ask me what a party is."

"Can I buy fifteen for a buck each?"

"Nah."

"How about thirty bucks for twenty?"

He considered for a moment, then said: "Yeah, okay."

She watched as he counted out twenty, placing them into a paper bag with handles, then counted out twenty dollars of the money that she had got from the Li-Changs.

"Business doing pleasure with you," the vendor said as she headed back up Lonsdale Street.


Nat had just started into Mr. MacDonald's office block when she heard screaming from behind her.

Looking around she saw a group of Nan had risked the daylight to grab three people. Including Mertyl, an elderly co-worker of Nat's.

As one of the Nan looked right at her. Nat slammed a fist onto the emergency close button and the metal shutter slammed down, locking the Nan out. Saving Nat, but sealing the destiny of Mertyl and the other two people.

"Sorry, Mert," said Nat: "But I've got three sisters who need me."

Five of the Nan went back to ripping apart and eating the three humans in Lonsdale Street. But the sixth one ignored the food and walked over to press its tapir-like snout against the metal guard, sniffing at Nat. Finally, it roared its rage at her.

It shook the shutter furiously, determined to reach Nat but was unable to get through the strong metal.

It's almost as though it has a personal grudge against me! thought Nat. Wondering if it was one of the Nan that she had escaped from three nights earlier.

As she turned to walk across to the steps, the Nan finally lost interest and returned to help devour their three human prey. Who like the two men three nights earlier, they ripped limb from limb, seemingly enjoying the hot blood splashing across them. Ignoring the hellish shrieks of their limbless victims, as they devoured their raw limbs first. Then chewed away their faces, before cracking open their skulls to devour their juicy brains. Which finally put the three people out of their misery. Although it would be another forty-five before they had reduced their bloody victims to mere skeletons.


Natalie raced up the steps so that she got back to her desk just in time.

Looking at his watch pointedly, MacDonald asked: "You didn't happen to see Mertyl did you?"

"Yes, she and two others got eaten, by some Nan."

"Oh no!" said MacDonald: "This is my busiest time of the year. How can I be one employee short?"

"My sister, Holly, has computing experience," said Nat. Not bothering to mention that it was solely from playing computer games.

"Excellent," said George MacDonald: "She's hired, bring her in here tomorrow at 7:00 AM sharp."

"She'll be delighted Mr. MacDonald."


"A job!" said Holly in horror as they heated some of the pies for tea that night: "I don't want a job. You're the worker in our family."

"Well, now we have two workers in the family."

"But who'll look after the little ones all day?"

"Petra is twelve now."

"Yeah, I can look after Talia," volunteered Petra. As much to piss off Holly as anything else.

"Aw, I don't want to work."

"Well, you're going to. We need the money."

"Yeah, we weed the nunny," said Talia.

"Oh, okay," said Holly, conceding defeat. "You know I'm only fifteen?"

"I was fourteen when I started working," pointed out Natalie: "So it's all agreed."


They set off early the next morning with Holly still sulking about having to work."

"Doesn't seem right at my age," insisted Holly.

"Just remember that you're experienced with computers."

"Who me?" asked Holly. Then: "Where are we going?"

"To see an old friend of mine," said Nat as they crossed over to a closed shopping plaza near the corner of Swanston and Lonsdale Streets.

Natalie went to knock on the metal shutter, but before she could it started up slowly shrilling from rust and age.

"Well, my little friend," said the old man.

To Holly: "This is," began Nat, realising that she didn't know the old man's name.

"Just call me Bertie," he said: "And who is this?"

"My younger sister, Holly," said Nat, handing him two of the small pies: "I reheated them this morning, so they should still be hot."

"Many thanks...?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm Nat. Holly is just starting work today, at my boss's."

"Not my idea," complained the teenage redhead: "Anyway, shouldn't we be going?"

"Oh, yeah," said Nat, waving to the old man as they started at a run, down Lonsdale Street.


The next few days were a bit of a struggle as Nat had to surreptitiously teach Holly the basics of computer inventory. But by the end of the week, she was getting the hang of things.

"Pay time, girls," said MacDonald as they were getting ready to leave for the weekend.

"Great," said Holly taking her pay packet from him.

"I'll say," said Nat, grabbing her sister's pay packet off her.

"Hey, what gives? That's mine!"

"That's ours," corrected Nat: "Don't forget we have four mouths to feed, not just us two."


On the way home, they stopped in to see Bertie, to give him some cold hot dogs. However, when they reached the corner of Swanston and Lonsdale, they found the metal shutters wide open, even though it was starting to get dark.

"Normally he greets us through the security door," said Holly, a little fearfully.

"I'm sure he's okay," said Natalie. Hoping that it was true.

Inside they found chaos. Windows to old stores had been smashed, furniture had been reduced to rubble, and manikins had been torn to pieces, along with ancient clothing from a dress store. Rubbish bins had been hurdled about, some to smash windows, others for the sheer Hell of it.

Tentatively they walked through the darkening plaza, looking for any sign of life. Finally, Nat started down the thin corridor to the steel security door leading out the rear exit, where she found the skeletal remains of old Bertie.

"Oh, poor old man!" she said, turning back...

To see a single Nan sneaking up behind Holly.

"Run sis, this way," shrieked Nat, holding the security door open for her sister with difficulty.

Squealing in terror, Holly raced forward, in the dark, almost falling over the skeletal remains of Bertie. Then straight out the doorway.

Nat leapt outside after her, leaving the steel door to slam shut.

Behind them, the two girls heard furious banging from frustration on the security door, as the Nan did not possess the intelligence to know how to open it.

The two girls ran down toward Elizabeth Street, then crossed back to Collins Street before running back up to their rooms near Swanston Street.

"What kepcha?" demanded little blonde Talia, as the two older girls raced inside panting from exhaustion.

"A Nan chased us."

"A wikely torey," said Talia. Refusing to be placated until they took out the cold hotdogs.

"These need to be reheated," said Nat, leaving Petra to heat up their meals.

"Are there any jelly beans left?" asked Nat.

"No, day all got heaten," said the blonde girl.

"Of course they did," said Holly, still panting for air.

"So how much you get for your first four days of work?" asked Petra.

"Don't know, Nat pinched it from me."

Checking through it, Nat said: "You should've got four-fifths what I got. But it's more like three-fifths."

"Oh, yeah, Scrooge McDuck said I started on a lower rate being a newcomer."

"Oh did he, well we'll have that out with him on Monday."

"Till den we're hall safe'n soun hinside," said Talia. Looking around as they heard screaming from outside.


At her boss's business on Monday, Natalie tried having it out with her boss over the amount of Holly's pay packet. But MacDonald was having none of it:

"Don't think I didn't notice you had to train her to do even basic accounting after you told me she was experienced on computers!"

"Well ... she was ... sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Mainly on Space Raiders 148 through 200 and Night Terrors 1 through 56," admitted Holly.

"Night Terrors! In real life, we call them Nan!"

"So, what about her pay?" demanded Natalie: "I've taught her the basics now!"

"Well ... okay, I'll pay her the same as you from next week!"

"Well ...?" began Nat.

"Yeah, okay," agreed Holly. Less concerned than her sister. Since the redhead couldn't spend any of the money on herself.

After George MacDonald had left, Nat complained: "You shouldn't have given in so easily. We had him on the ropes ... I only had to remind him that this is his busiest time of the year, so he can't afford to lose either of us..."

"What's the diff.," said Holly, switching on her computer and getting back to work.

Glaring at her sister, Natalie followed suit.


At lunchtime, they had gone as far up Swanston Street as Little Burke Street, where the glass-fronted shops had been converted to high-rise apartments centuries ago, looking for a food vendor.

"If we have to starve, I'm not going to go back to work," complained Holly.

"Relax, Red," said Nat, although her own belly was also starting to rumble.

"And don't call me Red," protested Holly. Stopping as she saw a vendor's cart lying on the ground: "Hey, look."

Tentatively, they approached down Little Burke, past a long-abandoned optometrist, whatever that was, until reaching the upturned wooden cart.

Holding Holly back with one arm, Nat cautiously popped her head around the corner of the next closed shop and saw the skeletal remains of the vendor.

"Ugh!" said Holly, looking green in the face.

"Don't you dare, throw up!" ordered Nat. Hesitantly, she crept forward to check out the cart. With Holly's reluctant help, she stood up the wooden cart.

"Score!" said Holly, as they opened the lid. Inside were dozens of steamed Dim Sims, sausage rolls, party pies, and beef sausages.

"Help me get them into the paper bags," said Nat. "We can't wheel the trolley, the Nan might hear it."

Wanting to get away from the site as quickly as possible, they hurriedly filled the paper bags, careful not to miss anything. Then afraid of being late, rushed back into Swanston Street, then up to Lonsdale Street.

"Oh God," said Holly, gasping as they got inside the building.

As they entered the ground floor, Natalie fisted the red emergency close button to be on the safe side. The metal shutters slammed down and locked into place ...

Seconds before they heard something slam into the heavy metal shutters.

Looking back, they saw the tapir-snouted Nan which had tried to stare Nan down the day that Mertyl had been eaten. Ignoring Holly, the Nan stared at Natalie, shrieking its rage at having missed her again. It started rattling the iron-mesh grate as though hoping to tear it down to get at the seventeen-year-old.

"He seems to know you?" said Holly.

Running up the few steps toward the stairwell, Nat said: "This is his third attempt to get me."


Five minutes later, panting, they reached their desks and plonked themselves on the uncomfortable computer chairs. Putting their largesse into the bottom drawers of their desks, they switched on their computer terminals.

Appearing, seemingly from nowhere, George MacDonald said: "Always just on time ... or just late."

"We were almost eaten by a friend of Nat's," explained Holly, still gasping a little for breath.

"You have nice friends, Natalie?"

"Not really a friend. Just a Nan that seems to want me for its dinner."

"As long as it's only you it wants to eat."

"Second the emotion," said Holly, getting a glare from her older sister.


That night at home, as they parcelled out their largesse, Natalie couldn't help thinking of the old man, Bertie. Not only missing him. But also she wished that the old man had taught her how to use the tube that he had fired at the Nan the first night they had met.

If I had one of those tubes and knew how to use it, I'd be a lot safer! thought Nat: And would be able to protect Talia and the others better!

"Hoo, Dimb Simbs," said little Talia, grabbing one in each hand to start eating. A bite from one, then a bite from the other, and so on.

"You're easily pleased," teased Petra.

"I wuv Dimb Simbs!"


With their larder well stocked for a while, Holly took to staying in MacDonald's at lunchtime for the next few days, which was fine by Natalie.

"You going out?" asked Holly, sounding surprised as Nat started toward the stair shaft as soon as George MacDonald called: "Lunchtime, girls."

"Just to stretch my legs," lied Natalie.

"My legs are long enough," said Holly. She had always regarded her legs as one of her best features.


Outside after looking both ways for Nan, Natalie raced down to the corner of Lonsdale and Swanston Streets. Carrying a large torch that she had brought from the office (ignoring Old MacDonald's dictate that office supplies must never leave the office), Natalie started cautiously into the building where Bertie had once saved her life. If anything the inside of the ancient store looked even more chaotic than previously. After careful checking, she detected no sign of any Nan inside.

She spent nearly all of her lunchtime looking for the pellet tube that Bertie had fired and was on the brink of giving up when she finally found the large tube-like device, plus a box of two dozen or more of the large taco-sized pellets that it fired.

Hearing a roar from behind her, Natalie spun around to see the snarling face of a Nan less than four metres behind her.

"Oh shit!" she said, almost dropping the metallic tube as she struggled to find the place to put in the pellet.

The Nan roared again but stood its ground. Puzzled that the teenager had not tried futilely to outrun it.

Finally, by chance only, Nat managed to open a slot in the side of the tube, slipped the pellet in, luckily it would only go in one way, then slammed the tube shut. Then wondered: Now how the Hell do I fire it? She had heard of guns and rifles and had heard that they had triggers you pulled to fire them. But there was nothing like that on the tube. It was smooth all the way around when closed up.

"There must be a way to fire it?" she said, almost crying from frustration. Then she saw a faded label on the end of the tube saying, 'HIT HARD TO FIRE'.

Aiming the tube at the chest of the ever so slowly advancing Nan, Nat whacked the end of the tube with the heel of one of her shoes...

Then she shrieked as the recoil whacked into her belly, knocking the wind out of her, and sending her flying backward four or five metres across the grey and black marble floor.

The Nan also shrieked as the pellet blew a fist-sized hole straight through its chest, sending it flying backward also.

Winded, Natalie lay on the cold marble for eight to ten minutes just struggling to breathe. Let alone stand up, expecting any minute to be set upon by the Nan, or a companion of its.

Looking up, she saw the dead Nan and felt no regret, knowing that it had intended to eat her. And that it or its kind had eaten her mother and father.

Fearing that the explosion might attract more of the Nan, although it was equally likely that they would run away at the sound, Natalie hurriedly filled one of her bags with the steel pellets, picked up the pellet tube which she had dropped when thrown across the floor, and started out toward the street.

She tried to run but found that the pain in her stomach became unbearable if she moved at more than a slow walk. So, knowing that she would be late back from lunch, she staggered outside. She closed the metal shutters and locked them down with a key that she had also found in the box. Then started slowly down Lonsdale Street toward MacDonald's building.

"Oh God," she gasped as she tottered along, hoping that nothing was broken inside her. Doctors were few and far between in New Melbourne and tended to live out in the once-favoured Eastern Suburbs. Favoured when there were millions of people in Melbourne. Not a few thousand as there were at most these days. She had once asked George MacDonald if it was true that there used to be over eighty billion people in the world. "Maybe," he had answered, "but I doubt if there's eight million anymore. When the Nan first appeared from wherever they came from, they quickly overran China, 'Merica, 'Lund, and Nippon, four of the biggest countries, and virtually wiped out their populations entirely before coming to Australasia and the Southern Hemisphere... Far's I know the Northern Hemisphere was completely depopulated. Cause, I've never been there."

Finally, at least an hour late, Natalie reached the MacDonald Building and walked into the foyer a little more assuredly than earlier, her belly pain, now a mere dull ache.

"Hopefully that means it's not serious," she said aloud. As she slammed a fist against the red emergency close button to bring the shutters down and lock them into place. She was pleasantly surprised that for once she had not had to walk the Nan gauntlet to get into the foyer.

Hopefully, that means he's given up on me! she thought as she started slowly up the stairs: Either that or my stalker was the Nan I killed at Bertie's shopping plaza.

Sighing in relief, she swung open the stairway door, stepped into the workroom, and stared in shock:

The room looked like a whirly-whirly had passed through it: The monitors were smashed. Both tables were upside down, one smashed to kindling. The computer chairs had been torn to pieces. Great holes had been punched into the sterile white walls...

And blood had been splattered everywhere!

"Holly!" she shrieked. Then getting no reply she started to look around and saw George MacDonald's feet sticking out from under an upended whiteboard at the other end of the workroom.

"Mr. MacDonald!" she called as she raced down to try to pull him out from under the whiteboard. Shrieking as his lower body came out...

With his body from the belly button upwards chewed away!

"Oh God!" she said, having to fight to keep the bile from rising in her throat.

"Holly!" she shrieked again, thinking that she had heard the faintest of whimpers. Cautiously she looked into her late boss's office, to find more senseless destruction. His large oaken desk was torn in half, and his metal filing cabinets, which he still used for God knows what tossed across the room. But no sign of Holly, or anyone else.

"Holly!" she shrieked even louder, hearing the whimpering again. Looking around the work room she saw two more doors. One to the basement, which she was forbidden to use, and the other door to the supplies room.

"Holly!" she called, hammering upon the supplies room door. Hearing whimpering, this time clearly from inside the room, she tried to open the door, however, it was locked from within.

After hammering on the door a few times and calling Holly's name, without getting an answer, Natalie sighed from frustration. Turning, she walked back to George MacDonald's office, and rummaged through the ruin of his desk, until finding a set of half a dozen keys.

Walking back to the supplies store, she tried the keys one at a time, until as she tried the fifth key the lock turned and she managed to enter the sterile white room. There were white shellacked cupboards and benches everywhere. But no sign of her missing sister.

"That's strange, I could have sworn..." Nat started to say. Stopping as she heard whimpering from behind her. Turning around, she walked across to a row of navel-height cupboards behind her and pulled open the doors one at a time.

In the third cupboard, she found Holly crouched in what looked like a yoga position gone wrong.

"Hollyhocks," she said. A nickname their father had called her when the redhead was only a toddler.

"Nat?" asked Holly, trying to wipe the tears of terror from her eyes.

With Natalie's help, the redhead managed to climb out of the cupboard and then fell crying into her big sister's arms.


Finally, Natalie said: "Perhaps we should leave, honey, we aren't gonna get paid for any more work we do here." Deciding not to call her employer 'Scrooge McDuck', after he had been half eaten by the Nan,

While Holly went across to the door to the stairwell, Natalie forced herself to go to the half corpse of George MacDonald to see if he had any cash on him. Finding only fifty dollars she took it along with his wallet, then went back to his office to check through the remains of his desk.

Sighing in frustration, she turned and saw the small, yellow safe built into the far wall of his office. She tried the handle, but it was locked, of course. Then she decided to look through the papers in his wallet, in case he had written down the combination of the safe. She found a dozen or more sets of numbers written on small cards and tried them all, But none of them worked. Even when she tried the numbers in reverse order.

Finally, giving up, she returned to the workroom and found Holly peering down the stairs, looking worried.

"What's wrong?" asked Natalie.

"I can hear movement from downstairs. Are any of the other offices in this building being used?"

"Not in the time I've been working here?" said Nat, then: "How long ago did the Nan break into the office?"

"No more than an hour ago, I'd guess. I happened to be in the supplies room when I heard them roaring at MacDonald. Then he started screaming. So I locked the door and hid in the cupboard."

"Shit!" said Natalie.

"What?"

"If they were still in the building when I came back from lunch ... I must have locked them inside the building when I lowered the shutters!"

"Oh no!" cried Holly: "We can't get past them to get outside!"

Looking around and seeing the forbidden room in the basement, Nat said:

"We still have two chances. We might be able to get out from the basement," she pointed to the door in the opposite wall. Holding up the pellet tube she said: "Or worst option, I can use this."

Frowning, Holly asked: "What's that?"

"A pellet gun that old Bertie used to kill the Nan, when he saved my life. I found it at his plaza today."

"Do you know how to use it?"

"I killed one of them in the plaza with it today," Nat said. Not bothering to mention the agony that she had sustained from the recoil.

"So what's our best option?"

Picking up the bag of pellets, Nat loaded one into the tube, then said:

"Let's try the basement first. That's where he keeps all the stock he sells ... sold."

"Do you know what it is?" asked Holly as they walked across the room. All they ever saw on their monitors were meaningless stock numbers.

"Far as I know Black Market crap that he buys cheap then resells at inflated prices. Who knows? Who cares?"

However, when they got downstairs they did care since they found a lockable freezer room containing box after box of canned foods, cartons of milk powder, toilet paper, chocolates, and many other foodstuffs and household goods.

"That cheap bastard," said Natalie. Picking up a large bar of chocolate, she broke it in two and handed half to Holly: "And all I ever got for Christmas bonuses were stale lollies and half-empty boxes of bikkies."

"Cherry Delight?" said Holly reading from the wrapping before taking a bite of the chocolate: "Mmmm, delish! Cherry delight is right!"

"Now with Old Smuck Donald dead, how do we get all of this stuff back to our place to nosh on?" asked Nat, thinking out loud.

"Aren't you forgetting our immediate problem?" asked Holly: "How do we get out of the building without getting eaten by the Nan?"

Putting down her half of the chocolate bar, Nat said: "With this!" Picking up the pellet tube. "You stay in here noshing, while I go out and kill them?"

"What if you get killed?" asked the redhead.

"Then you stay in here noshing until you run out of food in a couple of years' time..."

"Then I die...?"

"No the Nan would've eaten each other long before then."

"Both of them eaten by each other?" asked Holly, sceptically.

"If we're lucky," said Natalie, opening the freezer room door.

To find herself face-to-face with a snarling Nan.

"Shit!" she said raising the barrel of the pellet tube.

As the Nan charged her, Nat slammed the heel of one of her shoes onto the base of the tube. And was hurled backward into the freezer room, crashing into a stack of boxes of powdered milk. While the Nan was tossed backward into the main storage basement. With a fist-sized hole right through its chest.

"Nat!" shrieked Holly. She raced across to help her sister up to a sitting position.

Gasping for air, Nat said in a whisper: "I forgot to mention that to kill a Nan with this ... I have to also nearly kill myself."

She sat on a box of baked beans rubbing at her belly for nearly twenty minutes before the pain started to subside and she was able to stand unaided.

"So you think there's another Nan downstairs?" Nat asked.

"Or up in the office upstairs?"

"I doubt it, I think the blast of the pellet tube would have sent it running."

"Even so, how do we get it outside?" asked Holly.

"We ... or rather I have to let it outside."

"While I'm doing what?"

"Hiding in here," said Nat. She handed the key ring to Holly, showing her which key locked and unlocked the freezer room door: "Lock yourself in until I return."

"And, if for any reason, you don't return?"

"Then stay in here for a week or two. Then you'll have to hope that the Nan has starved to death in the foyer, and risk going out."


Down in the foyer, the Nan, hearing the explosion upstairs, had charged the rollup metal shutters, desperately trying to break its way through.

Behind it Natalie Coleman was sneaking quietly down the stairs to the foyer, hoping that it would not panic when it saw her. At ground floor level, Nat opened the door to the stairwell as quietly as possible and sneaked out onto the marble-floored foyer.

Making a strange crying-whining noise, that Nat had never heard before, the Nan climbed up the shutter, until it had reached the ceiling.

Sneaking up behind it, Natalie reached the front of the foyer, hit the emergency open button, then raced back a dozen or so paces.

As the metal shutters started to roll up into the roof the Nan shrieked in surprise and let go, falling to the marble floor, almost knocking itself out. Then seeing Natalie, it stood up and roared at her.

Holding up the pellet tube at the Nan, Natalie shouted: "Go now!" Pointing to where the shutters had risen enough for the creature to escape.

Looking around, where she had pointed with the tube, the Nan saw it could depart, and screeching in joy, it bent low and raced out into Lonsdale Street New Melbourne.

Natalie hit the emergency button again and waited until the shutter had lowered again, and locked into place. Then, turning, she went back to the basement to help Holly eat some more chocolate before they started for home in a couple of hours.


"Did you get rid of it?" asked Holly, still munching upon some Cherry Delight.

"Yep, I graciously allowed it to leave alive," said Nat: "Since the two times I shot one, I almost killed myself as well."

"That was gracious of you," teased Holly. Finally starting to get over her terror at the day's events.

January - 15,454 AD
Approx. 9:00 PM

"So how do we get all this stuff back to our place?" asked Holly Coleman. Still oohing and aahing at the rare chocolate treat.

"Well, for now, we take one small box each back to our apartment in Collins Street," said Nat: "Then tomorrow we spend the day shifting everything else. Then we lock up this place and keep it as an emergency hideout, in case we have to abandon Collins Street."

"So, we'll have two hideouts?" said Holly.

"Three, if we include the Swanston Street Plaza where Bertie was killed!" said Nat, referring to an elderly man who had saved Natalie's life. And from whom they had got the pellet gun and the large taco-sized pellets to fire in it.

"But there's a dead Nan in there. And probably a live one too."

"Oh," said Nat having forgotten they had left a Nan inside after finding Bertie dead. "Okay, well let's say we've got two safe houses for now. So let's grab a box each and get home before Petra and Talia do something dumb, like come looking for us."

"Good idea," said Holly. She picked up a box that she had already picked out while Natalie was in the foyer dealing with the second Nan.

Nat took ten minutes to select various foodstuffs to fill her box, then:

"Let's go," said Nat, leading the way up to the blood-strewn office, before walking down the stairs to the marble-floored foyer of the building.


Less than twenty minutes later, they had got down Lonsdale Street to Swanston, then gone down left to reach Collins Street and their home...

Which they found abandoned with the front door wide open!

"What the...?" said Nat as they tentatively stepped inside the three-room flat in Collins Street New Melbourne.

The place was a devastation zone with most of their wooden chairs smashed, their kitchen table had a metal leg torn off, their stove had been torn away from the wall, and their small fridge had the door torn right off. And what little food they had had inside had been purloined.

"The Nan?" asked Holly. Paling at the thought that their younger sisters had been eaten alive.

"Not likely," said Nat: "The Nan would have eaten them on the spot."

Looking around Holly saw that amongst all the mess the one missing element was blood. She exhaled in relief.

"Also they probably wouldn't have known that the fridge contained foodstuffs," said Natalie: "And if they did, they would have gobbled it all down on the spot. The Nan don't save stuff for later ... they're pigs."

"That's true," agreed Holly, putting her box down on the floor. "So what're we doing now."

"Eat some of our largess, then go hunt for Petra and Talia," said Natalie, turning to see a tall black youth standing in the doorway.

Seeing the two teenage girls, the youth spun around to race off, however, dropping her box of goodies, Nat raised the pellet gun and said:

"Stop, or I'll shoot!"

"'Stop, or I'll shoot!'" said Holly: "What B-movie did you get that out of?"

Looking as though he might run anyway, the youth finally stopped and said: "Not with that thing you won't. The kick on that thing would send you flying four metres backward into the wall."

"Yeah," said Holly, laughing: "I've seen it happen."

"Holly!"

Taking a small ball-pein hammer from a tool belt that he was wearing, he said: "You need to use something like this to fire it."

"I used the heel of my shoe, and still went flying backward," said Nat.

"So who are you, anyway, handsome?" asked the redhead, making the tall man blush in embarrassment.

"Derrin Baiotto," he said returning the hammer to his yellow tool belt.

"Are you an Abo.?" asked Holly.

"Red!" cried Nat: "The term is Aborigine or Indigenous Australian! And does he look Aboriginal?"

"How would I know?" asked Holly unapologetically: "I've never met an Ab ... Indigenous Australian. And don't call me Red."

"So where do you come from?' demanded Natalie.

"Me personally?" said Derrin: "I was born in New North Melbourne. Before that my ancestors many centuries ago came from Zaire in Africa. They left when it ceased to be democratic, and ironically changed its name to the Democratic Republic of Congo."

"So where ya live, handsome?" asked Holly.

"On the streets. I saw the door open and hoped I could move in here?"

"Did you have anything to do with what happened here?"

"Holy...!" said Derrin, for the first time noticing the state of the flat - till then he had been mainly looking at beautiful Holly: "No way!"

"Then you had nothing to do with our two younger sisters being stolen?"

"No way, although I know there are some child slavers still functioning in New Melbourne," said Derrin: "There's a particularly slimy dealer in human misery in Lonsdale Street. Calls himself George MacDonald; though I doubt that that's his real name. And don't know his exact address."

"What!" said Holly and Natalie, exchanging a puzzled look. George MacDonald had been their employer, until being half devoured by the Nan earlier that day.

"What...?" asked Derrin.

They told the youth about working for MacDonald and finding his stash of edible contraband:

"He also had two three-drawer iron filing cabinets in his office. Which might be where he kept records of his worst dealings," suggested Nat.

"Then let's go check it out," said Derrin.

"Not tonight though, it's too dark," said Holly.

"Yes, you'd better stay the night here at least," agreed Nat: "But close the door first, so the Nan down come in while we're sleeping."

He went across to close it, just in time, as a Nan started to run across Collins Street toward them. Derrin slammed and locked all three bolts on the door, seconds before the bear-like Nan started hammering on the door shrieking its rage at having just missed out on its dinner.

"It can't get in, can it?" asked Holly.

"With that solid oaken door, and three thick bolts? No way?" assured Derrin. Happy however to have Holly snuggle up to him for protection.

"There's two king single beds ... " said Holly: "But we can snuggle up."

"Yes, we can," said Nat, grabbing the redhead's left arm to pull her away from Derrin: "But first let's get something to eat."

Picking up her box of stores she started rifling through it, saying: "I've got cans or cold baked beans, chocolate bars, some French loaves, margo, and stuff that needs cooking. What you got in yours Hols?"

"Oh, um, some stuff," said Holly evasively.

"What stuff," demanded Natalie going across to examine it: "Lipsticks by the dozen, eye shadow, face powder, eyebrow pencils... Hols!"

"Well, a girl's gotta look her best!" protested the redhead.

"Even a natural beauty like Holly can't let her standards slip," agreed Derrin. Receiving a smile from Holly, and a glare from Natalie.

"You do know she's only fifteen?" said Nat, trying to burst his bubble.

"And I'm only seventeen. So by Aussie law, we're legal together!"

"Yeah, we're legal together," agreed Holly.

"On your heads be it then," said Natalie. She went back to her supplies and handed them each a can of cold baked beans and a plastic spoon.

"Yuk, what else you got?" asked Holly after one spoonful.

"You'll find out once you finish that," said Nat: "Just because we got plenty at Lonsdale Street doesn't mean we can afford to waste good food."

"You call this good food?"

"It's better than nothing," said Derrin: "It's my first meal in two days."

Afterward, they had some Cherry Delight, or Blueberry Delight for dessert.

They then headed straight to bed, with Natalie having to cover her head with a pillow to block out the sounds of their lovemaking until Derrin and Holly had finally worn each other out and fallen asleep.


Early the next morning they had more baked beans for breakfast, followed by Greek-style vanilla yoghurt for dessert, before tentatively heading outside to look for Petra and Talia.

"Maybe I should carry the pellet gun?" suggested Derrin: "Since I'm stronger and can fire it without half killing myself."

"He is," agreed Holly: "I felt his muscles last night."

"And risk him killing us both!"

"I'd never kill you and Holly," said Derrin. Then teased: "You maybe, Nat, but never Holly."

A comment that made the redhead chortle with laughter and the brunette glare at him. Finally, Natalie said:

"All right." Grudgingly handing the pellet gun and half a dozen pellets to him. Then to Holly: "But on your head be it, Red, if he kills us both!"

"Don't worry," said Holly as they stepped out in Collins Street: "She says, 'On your head be it!' a lot." Making Derrin laugh and Nat glare at her.


They walked down to Swanston Street, then were almost up to Lonsdale Street when they heard the growling of Nan.

Turning to their right, they saw a single youth being torn limb from limb by two of the hirsute bear-like hominids. Derrin raised the pellet gun to fire at them, but Natalie stopped him, pulling him and Holly back into the shadowy front of the store they were standing near. As they knelt she whispered:

"No, we only have nineteen pellets left! We may need them all to find Petra and Talia."

"But we can't...!" started Holly.

"They've already torn his legs from the socket, he's going to die anyway!" insisted Natalie, as the Nan ripped his arms from his shoulders. Delighting as his life's blood shot across them, as they happily munched on his four limbs, while the legless-armless torso screamed as it bled to death.

"She's right," said Derrin: "We can't afford to waste three or more pellets."

So, doing their best not to listen to the limbless torso's horrid shrieks, the three teens squatted down, letting the bear-like Nan enjoy their meal.


After the horrors had finished eating and shambled off, Derrin hurried across to check that the torso was now dead. Prepared to use one pellet if necessary. But seeing the silent scream on what was left of the man's face, he hurried back to the two girls.

"Okay, lead the way," he said and they set out again.


Twenty-five minutes later they were outside George MacDonald's building in Lonsdale Street.

Nat used her key to unlock the small control panel to start the metal shutters rolling up into the ceiling. However, as soon as the shutters were up enough, they ducked low to enter the grey-walled, marble-floored foyer of the building. Then Holly slammed the red emergency button to bring the shutters down again.

Pointing to a small doorway, Nat said: "The workrooms are upstairs.

Moments later they were looking around the wreckage of the main workroom, before walking through to the ruined shambles of MacDonald's private office. Which consisted of a broken oaken desk, literally shattered in half, a broken PC monitor, a broken computer chair the deluxe model, and two grey-painted metal three-drawer filing cabinets, both lying on their sides.

"Here's hoping," said Natalie as they rightened the two heavy cabinets. Some of the drawers had opened, the rest Nat opened with keys from MacDonald's keychain, which she had purloined the previous day.

Fortunately, the files were grouped by activities: 'car theft', 'blackmail', 'people smuggling', and so on.

Taking out the thick folder on people smuggling, they started to leaf through it:

"Shit, there must be over a hundred contacts in it," said Derrin.

"More like two hundred," corrected Nat.

"So what do we do?" asked Holly.

"Well, we can rule out the interstate ones for now," said Derrin: "But we have to check the Victorian ones, starting with New Melbourne, one at a time."

"It could take months," protested Holly.

"So we take months," said Natalie.

"We've got nothing else to do," said Derrin: "Though it'll pay us to take some of the supplies from the basement so we don't have to hunt for food every day."

"Sticking to food items, no cosmetics, this time," said Nat, making Holly pout.

"Don't suppose you know the combination to that?" asked Derrin, pointing to the small, yellow safe built into the far wall of the office.

"Nah, I tried all the combos I could think of yesterday," said Nat.

"Well, stand back ladies," said Derrin, holding up the pellet gun.

Squealing, Holly raced out into the workroom, followed by Nat. Seconds later they heard the boom of the pellet gun, followed by the sound of the small safe crashing to pieces.

Returning to the office, they saw Derrin looking through the contents of the wall safe.

"Find anything interesting?" asked Holly.

"About twenty-thousand dollars in cash," said Derrin, handing them each a large wad of green hundred-dollar notes. "And this."

Sounding excited, he reached into the safe and pulled out a snub-nosed point-thirty-eight revolver.

"What is it?" asked Holly, mystified.

"A handgun, I think," said Natalie.

"That's right," said Derrin: "When I lived in North Melbourne, also known as Kangaroo-Land -- for reasons that I can't imagine since I lived there for fifteen years and never saw a single kangaroo -- you had to know how to fire one of these things."

"Can you teach me?" asked Natalie.

"Sure," said Derrin: "There's six boxes of spare ammo in the safe."

After considering for a few moments, they decided to practice in the workroom, where they found the perfect target: a framed photograph of Australia's last prime minister. And their first Albino 'black' prime minister.

"Okay, before you start shooting," said Derrin: "We first need to adjust our positions."

"Am I holding the gun wrong?" asked Natalie.

"No ... Holly and I need to get well behind you," teased Derrin.

"Yeah, even you couldn't shoot us standing behind you," said Holly before laughing.

"I could if I turned around and aimed," teased back Nat.

"Not without a couple of hours of practice," said Holly, laughing again.

As Holly had predicted, Natalie took nearly two hours, even with instructions from Derrin, and two full boxes of bullets before she was any good at shooting. Leaving them with four boxes of ammunition for defence.

"Okay let's go get some food to take with us before starting out," said Nat, leading the way down to the supplies basement.


When they got down to the foyer, they found two bear-like Nan waiting for them. Holding onto the outside of the steel mesh shutters snarling at them.

Looking at the two Nan, Holly pointed at one and said: "I think that's your boyfriend."

"You have a Nan for a boyfriend?" asked Derrin.

"No, he's been stalking me for weeks now."

"Okay, then here's your chance for some real target practice," said Derrin. He checked that his pellet gun was loaded and that Natalie had reloaded the point-thirty-eight, then said: "Holly, press the button to open the shutters, then stand well behind us."

Reluctantly, she did as instructed, then ran, almost sliding on the marble floor, to get behind them both.

"Don't shoot till they get close," said Derrin: "And leave the one on the right to me. You take out your boyfriend."

"He's not my..." began Natalie, shrugging.

At first, the two Nan continued to hold onto the metal shutters as they started to wind up into the roof. Then they let go and stepped back a metre or so, watching, perplexed as the shutters disappeared overhead.

When the shutters were two metres up, enough to let the Nan in without stooping, Natalie called:

"Come on boyfriend, afraid of meeting me at last?"

"That's the trouble with blind dates," said Holly from behind them.

As though sensing the challenge, the pig-snouted ursine Nan started forward tentatively into the foyer.

"Wait for him! Wait for him!" urged Derrin as the one Nan started forward. It's mate, however, stayed well out of the foyer, watching.

Finally, when the Nan was less than four metres ago, Derrin said: "Hold the gun in both hands and let him have it."

Doing as instructed, Natalie fired off two shots. The first went well wide of the mark. The second went through the creature's left earlobe, making it cry out in rage and pain. But doing no serious damage.

"You've got four bullets left. Aim carefully at his chest, and fire all four," instructed Derrin. Glancing up for just a second to make sure that the second Nan had stayed outside on the footpath.

Doing as instructed, she fired all four shots in quick succession. All hit the Nan in the chest but, despite staggering backward a little, the beast managed to stay on its feet. Even roaring at them.

"Reload and look out for the second one," warned Derrin.

Stepping forward he used the ball-pein wood hammer to fire the pellet tube at the Nan. Blowing a fist-sized hole through the monster. Which roared one last time before falling over backward onto the marble floor...

Dead!

Roaring in anger the second Nan started into the foyer, then as they raised the handgun and pellet tube at it - not knowing both weapons were now empty -, the creature turned and raced off down Lonsdale Street toward Russell Street.

After lowering the metal shutters again, they decided to wait inside for a while to give the Nan time to escape.

"We might as well have lunch in here," said Derrin. Then to Holly: "What's the first address on our list?"

"First three are all in King Street," said Holly, as they headed back to the food store to eat.

"Then we'll check 'em one after the other," said Natalie.


When they reached the first King Street address there was a group of six Nan ripping to pieces four burly men who all looked like professional weightlifters. Not that it did them any good against the super-strong Nan. Who mercilessly ripped their arms and legs away from their powerful torsos, ignoring their agonised screams. Then began devouring the flesh and meat from the severed arms and legs, before starting to devour the living torsos. Finally, cracking open their skulls to devour their juicy brains. Which stopped the hellish screaming...

By killing the four men.

Hiding behind overgrown hedges across the road, the three teens watched in horror as the six Nan ripped apart and then devoured alive the four strong men. They had to watch for nearly an hour before the four monsters had had their fill and eventually departed. Leaving the skeletal remains behind.

"Let's go," said Derrin, leading the way across to the men. He searched the shards of their clothes, finding four new guns. Two nine-millimetre assassin guns, a point four-five-seven magnum, and a Smith & Wesson S&W500 a behemoth of a handgun.

He handed the other guns to Natalie to carry in her bag, then took the Smith and Wesson for himself.

"Hey, what about me?" complained Holly.

"We'll need to teach you both how to fire the nine-millimetre guns later," said Derrin: "The S&W500 is too powerful for either of you."

Instead, he handed the pellet gun to Holly, warning her just to aim it. Not to try to fire it under any circumstances.

Then they went inside, where they found three quivering bookkeepers, terrified that they were the Nan.

"Have any new girls arrived in the last twenty-four hours?" asked Derrin. He pointed the S&W500 at them for encouragement.

"Seven new girls, all in the back room," said one of the men, pointing.

"Thanks," said Derrin. Before shooting each of them in the head at point-blank range.

In the back room, they found seven girls, aged six to twelve, all dressed in undies or nightwear. But none of them were Petra or Talia.

"You're free to go home now, girls," said Natalie.

"What homes?" asked a twelve-year-old blonde: "Our parents sold us to these pervos."

"Shit!" said Derrin.

After talking it over, they decided to take the girls back to the basement food store at Lonsdale Street. After first shredding all the pictures of girls in the files outside and smashing to pieces the computer and monitors.


The second King Street location was bordered up. They forced their way in to find it recently abandoned. There were still files and pictures of naked girls, which they tore up and burnt in the middle of the office floor. Not caring if they burnt down the whole building.


The third address had a cast-iron door. They knocked but received no answer. Finally, in frustration, Derrin fired a couple of rounds from the pellet gun in the walls beside the door.

"What the fuck?" asked a burly gorilla-like thug lumbering out through the doorway,

Natalie grabbed the security door to stop it swinging closed. While Derrin gunned down the hood with the S&W500.

Then, after they had all hidden beside the outside wall of the building, Derrin fired two shots from the pellet gun randomly into the room.

They heard loud screams and metallic clangs as the pellets ricocheted around the small outer office, Then two goons raced out, with their hands above their heads.

Natalie gunned them both down, then she, Holly, and Derrin stepped into the office to see two more men dead on the floor from the pellet ricochets.

"What the Hell!" demanded a short, fat balding man who stepped out of the doorway from the outer office.

Derrin shot him dead, and then he and Nat entered the inner room, where they found a dozen more near-naked girls. Plus two salesmen and two very rich-looking pervo-customers.

They gunned the four men down, then took the girls back to the storage room in Lonsdale Street. After destroying all computer records and porno pictures again.


"Well, we're collecting our own fair share of under-aged girls," said Holly.

"It's a good thing there are no cops about anymore," teased Derrin: "Or else they'd probably think we were child smugglers and arrest us."

"Which does lead to the question, what the hell do we do with all the girls?" asked Natalie.

"We keep them here for now," said Derrin: "We've cleaned up the workroom upstairs, so they don't have to walk past the gore and debris. Then eventually we have to find somewhere else for them."

"Well, we might know a place," said Holly. She went on to tell him about the plaza near the corner of Swanston and Lonsdale Streets: "Assuming the Nan we locked inside has got out, or died."

"If not, once you two are proficient with the handguns, we'll go in and kill it," said Derrin: "Then we'll need to remove it's corpse before taking the girls there."

"Plus there's another Nan corpse there," said Natalie: "Plus the skeletal remains of an old man, who was a friend of ours."

"The Nan?" asked Derrin.

"The Nan?" agreed Nat.

Over the next seventeen days, they raided over fifty more child slavers. With more than a third of them abandoned. Others had already been raided by the Nan, with girls and traffickers alike torn apart and eaten. Their collection of under-aged girls had grown well past fifty. Although fortunately, some girls they freed did have homes to be returned to. But a disturbingly large number had been sold to the slavers by their parents or older siblings.

They had also collected a large arsenal, although they mainly now took the magazines or bullets from the guns, leaving the guns behind. Unless they found ones better than what they already had.

Derrin also spent time practicing with the new guns. As well as teaching Holly and Natalie, until both girls were proficient with half a dozen different handguns.

Each time they raided a new location, they carefully checked the files for Paula or Talia, without finding anything. Afterward they freed the girls, or took them with them, being sure to destroy all records and naked photos of them. Not concerned when they burnt down entire buildings. Or once in a back street an entire city block.

After nearly three weeks they were starting to think that they were going to spend years hunting down the two lost girls. Then two things happened at once. After raiding a place in William Street and killing most of the child-slavers, they found one ready to trade for his life:

"What information?" demanded Natalie, wondering why they hadn't already killed the snivelling little creep.

"Who's got your sisters, and how to get to him."

"Why should we believe you?" demanded Derrin.

Turning on his PC monitor, the man, D'Arcy Clover, printed out two coloured photos.

"Is that them?" D'Arcy asked, handing the photos to Holly.

"Petra! Talia!" cried Holly.

"So give!" demanded Derrin.

"His name's Dominic Alexander. Oh, and he's put a hit on you lot."

"What's a hit?" asked Natalie, suspecting it wasn't good.

"Most of the slavers you killed worked for Dominic. He needs to show his people he can protect them, so he's offered a reward in money, goods, or girls -- whichever they prefer -- for anyone who can kill you."

"So either we get him..." said Nat.

"Or someone gets you three for him. So do we have a deal?"

"How do we know you won't contact him as soon as we release you?"

"Because my dear, Derrin, you need my help to reach him. He lives in Glen Iris. Not that far from New Melbourne CBD. But a bugger to get to on foot."

"So how do we get there, fly?" asked Holly.

"No, in a car."

"Car?" asked Holly and Nat as one.

"A mechanical contrivance for travelling in," explained Derrin: "But those things need fuel to power them! Where do we get fuel from."

"From the tap," said D'Arcy: "For centuries the oil companies, then later the electricity companies laughed off the idea of water-driven vehicles. But at six-thousand degrees Celsius, water breaks down into its two component parts hydrogen and oxygen, two highly combustible gases. So the only trick was finding an alloy that could withstand six or seven thousand degrees to make engines out of. Then it was dead easy to make water-burning engines. Of course, the power companies stalled for centuries until no one could afford electricity anymore. So the car manufacturers went it alone and started making water-burning cars. Ending a thousand-year conspiracy between the car manufacturers and the power companies."

"And you've got one of these car things?" asked Natalie.

"Not personally. But my bosses, whom you just shot dead, do. Two in fact. A sedan, and a minibus. The sedan's big enough to take all of us. But for your sisters and any other girls we find, we'll need the minibus."

"So the minibus it is," said Derrin, as they reluctantly followed D'Arcy through the warehouse, where they found nine more girls.

"We'd better drop them off first," said Nat, explaining about their setup in Lonsdale Street.


After dropping the girls off in the basement, they filled the vehicle's fuel tank with water from a hose and then filled a water tank under three of the rear seats.

"For drinking water," explained D'Arcy, He showed them how to crank a small pump, to get the water flowing out of a chrome tap.

Then, finally, they set off in the white minibus for Glen Iris.


Dominic Alexander lived in a three-storey mansion on Brunswick Street New Glen Iris.

As they approached the mansion they heard roaring, then six Nan leapt out of the surrounding foliage and began chasing them. Although the Nan were unlikely to be able to catch the vehicle, Derrin opened the rear door of the bus and used the pellet gun to shoot down two of them. In the process scaring off the other four. Who shrieked their rage at the departing vehicle even as they stopped chasing it.

"Hopefully that will keep them away for a while," said Derrin, closing the rear door.

Stopping at the gate, D'Arcy and Derrin got out. D'Arcy pressed an intercom button on the bluestone brick fence and introduced himself, before saying:

"I've come to claim the reward for the three teenagers giving you all that static."

"You killed them?" asked Dominic Alexander over the com.

"No, I captured them. Thought you might like to kill the man personally. Also, the two girls are lookers, so I thought you might want to sell them on."

"Good work," said Dominic.

There was a metallic whine, then the metal gates swung open.

Returning to the Minibus, they drove through. As they stopped D'Arcy said:

"We can't just kill Alexander. We have to kill all of his staff too. Or else they could tell that I helped you lot."

"Fair enough," said Derrin.

"If all goes well, there a five grand bonus in it for you, D'Arcy," said Nat: "We got it from George MacDonald."

"You killed Old Smuck Donald?" asked D'Arcy.

"No the Nan obligingly did that. But we took his money afterward."

"Okay, you can rely on me. Dominic Alexander pays well, but he doesn't hand out five grand bonuses."

They had to go through a similar routine to get into a vast games room, complete with a full-sized pool table, marble floors, and mahogany chairs and drinks cabinet.

Behind the drinks cabinet, almost the size of an old pub counter stood a tall, dark-haired man with a large scar down the left side of his face. He was dressed impeccably in a white dress suit.

"So these the three brats that have caused me so much trouble," said Dominic Alexander, looking over Derrin, Holly, and Nat.

"That's us," said Derrin proudly.

The two girls had their hands folded behind their backs so that Alexander could not see the point-thirty-eight handguns they carried.

"Good work, D'Arcy. How do you want payment?"

"In girls," said D'Arcy as they had arranged.

"Antonio take him to the girls. He can have five. Now more than three under ten years old."

"Yes, boss," said Antonio, a hulk of a man, leading D'Arcy upstairs to where the girls were kept on the first storey.

"All that trouble you've caused me, just to get yourselves killed," said Dominic Alexander. Then to Holly: "Although, you I'll keep for my own use, Red."

Holding up the pellet gun, Derrin said: "She's my girlfriend. And she doesn't like being called Red."

Dominic Alexander laughed and said: "A pellet gun. Jesus, I haven't seen one of those since the last Nan War. We lost, in case you're not up on recent history."

Then, without pause, he raised a point-forty-five and shot Derrin twice in the chest at point-blank range.

Derrin managed to fire the pellet gun even as he fell backward, but the pellet went well wide shattering a wall-sized crystal mirror behind Alexander.

"Bastard!" said Dominic Alexander: "I inherited that mirror from my old man."

As he looked back at them Nat shot him four times with her handgun. While shrieking, Holly raced to help Derrin.


On the next storey, Antonio led D'Arcy into a pink-walled room filled with nearly fifty girls aged five to seventeen.

"You can take five. Not all young ones."

"No ... I think I'll take them all," said D'Arcy.

"But the boss said..."

D'Arcy raised his point-forty-five and shot Antonio in the head twice.

As the girls started to scream, D'Arcy shouted: "Calm down, we're here to rescue you."

"Who's here to wreckcue us?" demanded feisty seven-year-old blonde Talia Coleman.

"Natalie, Holly, Derrin, and me."

"Who's Derrin?" asked Petra, a twelve-year-old ravenette walking across to Talia.

"Holly's boyfriend," explained D'Arcy.

"Tolly doesn't have a boyfwend," insisted Talia.

"She does now." Taking the large photos from his coat pocket, he looked at them for a moment, then said: "You two must be Petra and Talia."

"Dat's white," agreed Talia.

"Are there any more employees in the house at the moment."

"Three more goons..." started Petra as a door opened and three men, built like gorillas in suits raced into the room.

"Relax, boys, it's me," said D'Arcy. Just before he shot them all.

"There's also a cook lady and a gardener," said another girl.

"We might let them live for now," said D'Arcy: "Okay girls, follow me. We've got a minibus to take you all to freedom."


Downstairs they found Holly and Natalie trying to staunch the bleeding on Derrin's chest.

"Shit, where's Alexander?" asked D'Arcy.

"Down there," said Nat pointing to where the racketeer had fallen behind the large bar.

Walking across, D'Arcy fired a single shot into Dominic Alexander's head then picked up an ancient-looking telephone.

"What's dat?" asked Talia.

"An ancient Field Telephone. They used it during the Nan Wars. If I can get it to work, I know a great doctor in this area." He started furiously turning a small lever on the wooden base of the phone before managing with some difficulty to get through to Dr. Jason Robinson."


Half an hour later Dr, Robinson had arrived and had begun operating as best he could upon Derrin.

"Can you get the bullets out?" asked Holly tearfully.

"Not a chance, they're in too deep. I'd only kill him for sure if I tried digging that deep. But I can fix him up so he'll recover in time."

"So you're your just gonna leave the bullets in him, Doc?" asked D'Arcy.

"Yes, but in twelve or fifteen years he could develop what will look like two large nipples on his back. That will be the bullets having worked themselves through him. Call me back at that time, and I'll be able to remove them at that time."

"So, is it safe to move him?" asked Natalie.

"Not for at least a month," said the doctor: "Till then he'll have to sleep down here. We can move a mattress for him to sleep on, on the floor down here. The question is the staff, will they help out?"

"The only staff here are a cook and a gardener, according to the girls," explained D'Arcy.

"What happened to Dominic's thugs."

"He happen to dem," said Talia pointing at D'Arcy.

"I couldn't risk them identifying me to whoever takes over the organisation," he explained.

"Well, I ain't gonna waste any tears over those goons," said the doctor/

"Me neiva," said Talia, making them all laugh.

"What about us?" asked one of the liberated girls.

"We've got temporary accommodation for you in Lonsdale Street, New Melbourne," said Natalie. She went on to explain about the food stocks they had located in the basement of George MacDonald's business rooms.

"Ooh Chocowait," said Talia.

"About two years' supply by our best guess," said Holly without looking around from where she was still holding Derrin's right hand.

"So who's coming to Lonsdale Street with me?" asked Natalie.

All of the girls put up their hands. Except Holly:

"I'm staying here with Derrin."

"I'll stay until he's well enough to move," said Dr. Robinson.

"I'd better go too, just to see the girls safely inside," said D'Arcy: "Will you lot be all right here, for a couple of hours, till we get back? If we leave some guns with you."

"Sure thing," said Holly.


At the Lonsdale Street hideout, Natalie said: "Petra you'll have to look after the stray girls till we find homes for them."

"Okey dokey," said the ravenette.

"Don't worry, every day or so Holly or I will be back to see if you're okay."

"Probably you," said Petra: "I doubt that Holly will leave his bedside till Derrin is back on his feet."

"Dat's for sure," agreed Talia.

"And we'd better take some supplies back with us," said D'Arcy: "In case the cook won't feed us."

"Good thinking," said Natalie: "And we'd better top up the fuel tank on the minibus to be on the safe side."

"How do you get fuel for that thing?" asked Petra.

"It runs on water," explained D'Arcy. He went on to tell of the thousand-year conspiracy the oil companies had engaged in to stop the world know how practical water-burning cars are.


The round trip to Lonsdale Street, then back to Glen Iris took almost three hours.

They carried two boxes of foodstuffs into the house, only to find that the cook, a bosomy matronly woman of forty-five or so, had made them chicken soup and lamb chops to eat.

"I'm paid to feed whoever's here, and I don't care who I feed," she explained practically.

"Any major problems?" asked Doctor Robinson.

"Other than having to shoot a couple more of the Nan, nothing," said Natalie.

"Ah," said the doctor a little guiltily: "Maybe it's time I unburdened myself and told you exactly what the Nan are."

"Are they aliens?" asked Holly, lying on the mattress on the floor, next to Derrin Baiotto.

"No, they're not aliens. They're..."


Late January - 15,454 AD

During their travels, Derrin, Holly, and Natalie had slaughtered a number of child slavers, which left them with a small harem of underage girls, whom they had transported to a location in Lonsdale Street, New Melbourne, in the Coleman girls' former boss's workrooms. Where they had discovered a veritable cornucopia of foodstuffs and household goods that George MacDonald had bought and sold on the black market.

With nowhere else to take the girls, until managing to find homes for them, they had taken them to this warehouse, along with twelve-year-old ravenette Petra Coleman to look after them. D'Arcy Clover, a tall, athletic man in his early fifties, or Natalie visited the girls every day, from their temporary base in New Glen Iris.

On the 3rd of March, they were getting ready to drive to Lonsdale Street, when they heard screaming from outside the mansion which was their temporary base.

"What the Hell?" cried Holly. Who had spent the last couple of weeks nursing her injured boyfriend, Derrin, assisting Doctor Jason Robinson, a tall thin redheaded man in his early sixties.

"That sounds like Thompson?" said the cook, Martha, a bosomy matronly woman of forty-five or so.

"The gardener?" asked Natalie.

She and D'Arcy checked that their handguns were loaded, then raced toward the front door. They typed in the code to raise the cast-iron shutters outside the door, then raced outside into the lush, well-kept garden...

Where they saw the tall, but age-bent gardener, Tommy Thompson being attacked by three two-and-a-half metre tall, bear-like Nan.

One of the Nan ripped Tommy's left arm right out of its shoulder. Making the gardener scream even louder as his life's blood gushed from the damaged socket.

Raising his Smith and Wesson S&W500, D'Arcy fired three times killing the Nan that was still holding the severed arm -- intending to eat it while the gardener bled to death.

The second and third Nan spun round to shriek in rage at Natalie and D'Arcy for interrupting their meal.

Natalie opened fire upon one of the bear-like creatures with a Smith & Wesson Model 457 point-four-five-seven magnum semi-automatic pistol.

The Nan roared its rage at the seventeen-year-old brunette, at first seeming impervious to the gunfire. But as Natalie emptied the chamber into the creature, it roared one last time, then fell face down on the lawn ... dead.

The third Nan started toward them at a run. But three shots from D'Arcy's Smith and Wesson S&W500 stopped the monster in its tracks. Its final vocal sound was more of a squeak, than a roar, as it also fell dead, face forward onto the grass.

Running across to Thompson, D'Arcy said: "Grab his arm, and give me a hand getting him into the mansion."

Racing to do as instructed, trying not to be squeamish, the brunette grabbed the arm, then grabbed the gardener by the right arm. Leaving D'Arcy to try to staunch the flow of blood from his shoulder, with his jacket. Then between them, they half dragged, half carried the man back into the mansion. Careful to lower the cast-iron shutters behind them.

"What happ...?" began Jason Robinson.

Then, ignoring the screams of Martha the cook, who dropped the pile of Wedgewood fine bone china that she was carrying, the doctor raced across to see what he could do for the gardener.

"Is it serious?" asked Holly, still snuggling next to her boyfriend, black youth Derrin Baiotto.

"It's always serious when you have an arm ripped off at the shoulder," said Jason, drawing a huffy silence from the redhead.

"Can ... can you reattach it?" asked Martha, starting to pick up the shards of the expensive crockery that she had dropped. Just grateful that her former employer was dead so that he couldn't kill her -- his main punishment for employees who angered him.

"Not a chance," said Jason Robinson: "If hospitals were still operating, and I had a full staff to assist, there'd be a better than even chance. But as it is, the best I can hope to do is staunch the bleeding and try to keep him from dying."

Although Thompson had passed out from shock by then, Jason showed Natalie how to apply an anæsthetic drip. Then the doctor went to work upon saving the gardener's life.

It took a couple of hours to fix the shoulder as much as possible, without the use of hospital facilities. But finally, they had done all that they could for the man.

Then with Martha's help, they brought another mattress down from the first floor for Tommy Thompson to lie upon until he either recovered or died.

"At least it was his left arm he lost," said Holly.

"He was left-handed," said Martha, making Holly blush from embarrassment.

Damn! I can't ever get it right! thought Holly, snuggling up for comfort to her boyfriend, Derrin.

"Another worry," said Natalie: "Is that the Nan have now managed to get into the gardens surrounding this place."

"We'll have to try to find out how," said D'Arcy: "Till now the three-metre tall yellow brick fences, topped with barbed wire and electrified gates have been enough to keep them out. It also means I'll have to go with you, Nat, when you go to Lonsdale Street each day. You had to empty your 457 magnum into it, to stop one of the Nan. If you encountered two or more by yourself, you wouldn't stand a chance."

"Good thinking," said Derrin. He took the opportunity to place his right hand on Holly's shapely backside as she snuggled up to him.


After lunch, except for Tommy, who was still unconscious, Natalie and D'Arcy finally set out for Lonsdale Street. Arriving there just in time.

Checking that they weren't being followed by any Nan, they exited the water-driven minibus and entered the foyer of Nat's late boss's premises. Making certain to bring down and lock into place the steel-mesh shutters to stop any Nan from following them into the building. With over a hundred young girls in the basement, they had to be even more careful than normal.


A few minutes later Natalie and D'Arcy entered the basement, to find twelve-year-old Petra, one of Nat's younger sisters pointing her point-thirty-eight snub-nosed revolver at three burly men. Standing just outside the basement, they had managed to open a large loading bay door, by punching in the access code on the outside.

"What gives?" demanded Natalie, pointing the Smith and Wesson 457 at them.

"We collect girls and junk from George MacDonald on a regular basis," explained one of the men. Who looked barely more human than the Nan.

"MacDonald is dead!" explained D'Arcy.

"So we heard," said a second of the goons.

"Well, as his second-in-charge," lied Nat: "I'm claiming ownership of all of Old Smuck Donald's stuff."

"Okay," said the goon. Although his look suggested that they had intended to clean out MacDonald's warehouse: "But we've still got a worksheet for thirty girls, and a hundred boxes of foodstuffs."

He held up the worksheet so that Natalie could read it.

Instead, she shot him twice in the chest right through the pink worksheet. Which made the other two goons reach for concealed weapons. But not fast enough to stop D'Arcy from gunning down both of them.

Hearing squeals from the back of the canvass-covered truck, D'Arcy pulled it aside, to reveal the contents:

"More girls," said Petra.

Eleven more girls, plus a couple of dozen boxes of condensed milk, baked beans, and assorted one-point-three kilogramme bags of lollies.

"Come on out, girls," said D'Arcy: "We're the good guys..."

"And gals," added Natalie.

Looking hesitant at first ... finally, the girls allowed D'Arcy and Natalie to help them down from the back of the truck.

"More girls," complained seven-year-old blonde Talia (the youngest of the four Coleman sisters): "Have hiff we don't have heenuff!"

"You won't mind when you see what they brought with them," said Natalie, as they started to unload the boxes of lollies.

"Wollies!" cried Talia, trying to grab a whole box for herself. Although Petra took it first, saying:

"I'll mete the lollies out as sweets after meals, like always."

"We've just had wunch," pointed out Talia.

"Okay, follow me," said Petra, leading the girls back into the basement.

Leaving Natalie and D'Arcy to unload the supplies from the truck.

"What'll we do with the truck?" asked Natalie, when they had finished.

"Keep it, if no one comes to claim it," suggested D'Arcy: "We can always use it to transport Derrin back here when he's recovered enough."

"In the meantime, we need to reset the password on the control panel," said Nat: "So we won't have any more of Old Smuck Donald's cronies turning up and letting themselves in."

She took MacDonald's wallet out of her shirt pocket and started trying all of the numbers/codes she found on business cards in the wallet.

After more than an hour and God knows how many attempts, Nat finally found the right series of numbers, to allow her to access the control panel and change the password.

They gave the new password to Petra, then refilled the minibus's fuel tank with water before starting back for New Glen Iris. Taking with them a single box of lollies.

"What's in it?" asked D'Arcy driving the bus.

"Chocolate-coated aniseed rings."

"Yummy."

"They're also Talia's favourites. So don't tell her, in case we took the only box."

"My lips are sealed. Or at least they will be once you fill my mouth with some of those aniseed rings."


They had to shoot dead two more Nan to get back into the mansion, where they told what had happened.

"Ooh chocolate-coated aniseed rings," said Holly: "Tal's favourite."

"Yeah, so don't tell her we got them," said D'Arcy.


The next day, armed to the hilt, D'Arcy and Natalie set out after breakfast to try to find out how the Nan had managed to invade the grounds of the Glen Iris Mansion. After walking more than a kilometre around the perimeter, they found the answer:

An eighteen-wheeler had been driven through a section of the fence, allowing access. Not that it had done the ram-raiders any good, since their skeletons lay in the grass within a few metres of the truck.

"Stupid bastards only managed to get themselves killed," said D'Arcy.

"So how do we fix it?" asked Nat.

"Damned if I know. Driving the truck outside would only make the gap wider. And unfortunately, we don't have any bricklayers or stone or steel masons on tap to make repairs. Even if we could trust the Nan not to push the new part over before the mortar had set."

"So, we just have to stay alert, and kill any Nan we find on the grounds?"

"That's about it," agreed D'Arcy. Leading the way back to the mansion.

Where they found two Nan hammering on the steel shutters outside the front door.

"Surprise," said D'Arcy. Before shooting one of them in the back with the Smith and Wesson 500.

The second Nan turned around and roared at them in rage.

So Natalie emptied the chamber of the S&W457 into it.

Inside, they told the others of their discovery.

"So what will you do?" asked Jason Robinson: "You still have to make daily trips back to Lonsdale Street, to stop the young girls from panicking."

"Be ready to shoot them down, whenever you go out," suggested Derrin: "And make sure to stick close together for security."


The next morning, after breakfast, they got the chance to test out the theory. When they raised the cast-iron shutters to get out, they found two large, nearly three-metres tall, Nan waiting for them.

Growling in anger, the larger Nan stepped forward, and then D'Arcy shot it in the head twice with the S&W500.

As the first Nan fell over backward, the second started forward. Only to be shot in the chest twice by Natalie.

Growling without stopping the Nan started toward the brunette. Only to be shot twice in the heart by D'Arcy.

"Hey, leave one for me," protested Natalie.

"It's not a day at the shooting gallery," called Derrin.

Nat and D'Arcy started out. Needing the help of Martha and Jason to pull the two Nan corpses back outside, so that they could close the cast-iron shutters behind them.


Late March - 15,454 AD.

It was now a month since Natalie, Holly, Derrin, and D'Arcy had returned from New Glen Iris to their hideaway and storeroom in Lonsdale Street, New Melbourne.

Taking with them Tommy Thompson, the Gardener, and Martha Jones, the cook.

"No point staying in that mausoleum, when you can both be useful in looking after the young girls," said Nat.

"Well, Martha can help out cooking meals for them, but what can a one-armed gardener do?" asked Tommy.

"For the next few weeks nothing, until you've recovered more," said Natalie: "But another month or two down the track, you can help out with looking after the younger girls."

"When the rest of us have reached the point of wanting to scream from looking after little girls," said Holly.

"Hey!" protested Talia and some of the other young girls.

"Sorry, but it's true," said the redhead, refusing to back down.

"Hey, I think today's Good Friday," said Petra, to change the subject.

"I don't suppose there are any chocolate Easter Eggs in the boxes of supplies?" asked Natalie.

"No. Dey all got Heeten," said Talia.

"Why am I not surprised?" said Holly, making everyone except Talia laugh.


Leaving Martha and Tommy at Lonsdale Street to look after the young girls, Derrin, D'Arcy, and the four Coleman girls returned to their main base at Collins Street.

They set up a small camp bed for D'Arcy to sleep in, in the dining room-cum-kitchen-cum-lounge room, while Holly and Derrin shared one of the two king-single beds in the bedroom, and Natalie, Petra, and Talia shared the other bed.

"Hey, how come we got three to a bed, and dey only got two?" demanded seven-year-old Talia.

"Trust me, you don't want to share a bed with Holly and Derrin when their humping and grunting is going on," said Natalie: "It's hard enough sleeping with them in the same room."

"What's humpity bumpin'?" asked the little blonde girl.

Petra and Nat both rushed to cover her ears with their hands.

"Oh, somfin my widdle ears shouldn't hear," said Talia.

"Trust me, no one should have to hear it," said Natalie.

"I'm just grateful that I'm sleeping out here," said D'Arcy.

"I wish I were too," said Natalie.

"Well, she did kill her old boyfriend a month back," teased Holly: "So if D'Arcy is ready to share his cot, she's available."

"Firstly, that Nan which Derrin and I killed was not my boyfriend ... he was merely hunting me. Secondly, even if I were interested in starting a relationship at the moment ... that cot isn't big enough for two."

"Well, she was diplomatic, so I'm not offended," said D'Arcy, making them all laugh.

Stretching wide, Holly said: "Well, I guess it's time for Derrin and I to get to bed."

"Hits not heeven seven a qwock yet," said Talia.

"Trust me, just pray that they've finished and are sound asleep before any of us feel like going to bed," said Natalie.

"Have we got anything to block out the sound of them?" asked Petra.

"We can watch TV?" suggested Nat.

"How?" asked D'Arcy: "Even the emergency broadcasts stopped yonks back."

"Yes, but we've got a dozen different USB drives laden with stuff that we can watch, and our generator provides enough electricity for the lights and to watch up to two hours of TV a day," said Natalie. She switched on the generator, then cranked the handle, before she turned on the thirty-inch TV, which only gave a static hiss. Until she plugged in a large fifteen-hundred-gigabyte drive and said: "Right what should we watch?"

"Something very loud," said Petra.

"World's Stupidest Stuntman Hepisodes," cried Talia. To D'Arcy: "I specially love de hepisode where de German broke tried jumping a motortrike from one buildin' to 'nother, and halmost castigated himself ... whatever dat means."

"She means castrated," explained Petra: "And anything to drown out moany and boney."

They selected it on the USB drive and began to watch the ninety-minute episode. Before finally risking going off to bed.


The next morning, over a breakfast of Wheat Bix, skim milk, tea or coffee, they discussed their next options:

"First things first ... all the girls," said Derrin. They now had over a hundred young girls whom they had rescued from child-sex traders: "We can't keep them all, there's not enough room in the Lonsdale Street premises. We need more room for them."

"There is the plaza," said Natalie.

She went on to explain about the plaza where they had got the pellet gun from. Near the corner of Swanston and Lonsdale Streets.

"In which there are two Nan. One possibly still alive," pointed out Holly.

"So Derrin and I go check it out, shooting the second Nan, if it is still alive," offered D'Arcy.

So after breakfast, Derrin and D'Arcy went down to the plaza. Using a key borrowed from Natalie, they unlocked a small control panel and then started the steel mesh shutters up into the ceiling.

Just inside the plaza doorway, they found a rancid long-dead Nan, plus another one further into the foyer area.

"We'll have to move them outside, before bringing the girls here," said D'Arcy.

"How?" asked Derrin: "They must weigh a tonne each."

"This used to be a shopping plaza, so they should have some kind of lifting equipment designed for carrying big crates of stuff. Let's find a way down to the basement."

It took them twenty minutes to find lifting equipment capable of handling a Nan corpse, then another twenty minutes to get the equipment up the non-operational travellator to the foyer level. It then took another forty-five minutes to dump the two Nan corpses, plus the skeletal remains of Bertie (an old friend of Holly and Nat who had been killed by Nan two months earlier) out the back of the plaza.

Then the two men did a floor-by-floor search of the plaza, tricky with the sagging travellators not working. To ensure that there were no more Nan or other dangers in the multi-storeyed shopping plaza.

"There should be some way to get the damned travellators working if the shutters work," said D'Arcy as they slogged up them.

"There was stuff down in the basement," said Derrin: "Maybe there's a generator down there?"

"If it's water-powered, like the minibus, everything is swinging, to quote Eddie Cochran."

"Who the Hell is he?" asked Derrin.

"Some classical musician from æons ago," said D'Arcy: "Used to be massive in the British world I think. Not so much in the U.S.A."

On the second storey, they found a Beds R' Us store, with dozens of beds, complete with mattresses, for the rescued girls to sleep on.

"They've even got pillows, sheets, and blankets," said D'Arcy opening a walk-in cupboard to show Derrin.

"Okay, then let's go check on the generator," said Derrin: "Then we can start moving the girls in here."

Down in the basement, they noticed a number of grubby-looking machines. Mostly no more than thigh height. However, there were a couple of much larger machines. One with an array of red, green, and yellow lights on it. Two of the green lights were flashing.

"I think this is what powers the steel shutters," said D'Arcy: "Nat's friend, old Bertie, must have kept it going."

"But what does it run on?"

Looking around the machine for a few minutes, D'Arcy gently tugged and pressed various parts. Finally, he said:

"There's a hose pipe running into the wall, with a couple of spare fixtures for emergencies. So hopefully that means it's water-powered."

"Then why aren't the travellators, or lights working?"

"Give me a mo," said D'Arcy.

Picking up an ancient-looking manual, which was chained to the machine, he began skimming through it. After nearly forty minutes, he began flicking switches on the generator, still referring to the manual from time to time.

"Try one of the light switches," said D'Arcy.

Derrin did as instructed, without any result.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't know," said D'Arcy.

He read through the manual more carefully for another half an hour, checking the machine from time to time.

Finally, he said: "Not enough water is getting through."

He stepped across to the hose fitting on the wall, and with difficulty began to turn it.

"The tap was almost turned off. Guess old Bertie only needed enough power for the shutters."

After a few moments, they heard a roaring whooshing as the fuel tank of the generator began to fill. Followed by a whoomp sound a minute or so later, indicating that the tank was full and had stopped taking water.

"Okay, try the light again."

Derrin flicked the switch. There was a flickering of the fluorescent globes for a few seconds, then the lights came on.

"Let there be light!" said Derrin.

"And there was light," said D'Arcy: "Now, let's go see if we can get the travellators going."

Walking upstairs to the foyer area, they went over toward the travellators. Neither was going, but they each had flashing green lights on the black control panels.

After reading the tiny golden writing on one of the panels, D'Arcy flicked a switch and then pressed a couple of buttons. And with a grinding of the mechanism, the travellator started moving upwards.

"Now if only we'd thought to do this before we nearly knackered ourselves walking up them earlier," said Derrin.

"Better late than never," said D'Arcy going across to the other travellator. Which he soon had moving downwards. This time with much less mechanical groaning than the first one.

Switching both travellators off, D'Arcy said: "I think it's time for us to be making tracks."

"Before the girls make the mistake of coming looking for us," agreed Derrin.


Outside the shopping plaza, the two men saw a young brunette walking toward them.

"Natalie?" called D'Arcy.

Startled, the girl stopped. Then screamed as two Nan started across Lonsdale Street toward her.

Taking out his point four-five-seven magnum revolver, D'Arcy said: "Fancy some target practice, Derrin?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," said Derrin, taking out the S&W500.

Racing toward the terrified girl, the two men started shouting to attract the attention of the two two-and-a-half-metre-tall bear-like Nan.

Growling in rage, the Nan changed direction, allowing the girl to run away as they charged the two men.

The two creatures got within four metres before Derrin and D'Arcy opened fire upon them. Their handguns boomed almost like cannons as they shot down the two Nan. Which fell face down on the bitumen path, less than a metre from the two men.

"Well, the point thirty-eights might not stop those monsters," said Derrin: "But we know that these two will."

"That's something," agreed D'Arcy, as they started back up Lonsdale Street.


The rest of the day, with rest breaks and meal breaks they moved the one-hundred and seven girls to the plaza. Having to take them in groups of no more than six or seven at a time, in case they were set upon by Nan. The last thing they needed was a hundred-plus girls running off squealing in a dozen different directions, making themselves easy prey for the Nan, and almost impossible for Derrin and the others to find again.

They also took several crates of food from the storage room at Lonsdale Street. Although they had managed to find some canned foodstuffs on the third and fourth storeys of the shopping plaza.

"Is it safe in here?" asked a tall, thin thirteen-year-old strawberry-blonde, Tiffany Waterman.

"Sure is Tiff," said D'Arcy: "Derrin and I spent a couple of hours checking all six storeys."

"Which would have been Hell if the travellators had been working," said Derrin: "Without it, it was whatever is worse than Hell."

"Being paralysed with a group of Nan charging toward you," suggested Holly. Making most of the rescued girls squeal in terror: "Sorry!"

"Fortunately, we've got them working now," said D'Arcy, going across to switch the up-travellator on.

"We'll come back tomorrow and every day or two, to see how you're getting on," promised Natalie as they headed back outside. Leaving Martha and Tommy to look after the young girls.

"Tea time coming up soon," promised Martha as she went to start preparing their food.


Back out in Swanston Street, Holly said: "You know this is only a stop-gap fix?"

"Yes," said Nat: "But what can we do for a long time fix?"

"Take them back home," suggested D'Arcy.

"But many of them were sold to child slavers by their own parents."

"But not all," said D'Arcy: "And the ones that were, might have been sold by one or two of their family, without the rest knowing."

"So what do we do?" asked Derrin: "Slaughter the ones who sold them, then ask the other family members to take them back."

"Sounds good to me," said Petra.

"Me too," said Natalie and Holly together.

Shrugging, Derrin said: "Well, as long as we all agree."


Over the next day couple of days, they took home twenty-seven girls who had been kidnapped without their family's involvement.

Then the following day, they started with Tiffany, the attractive strawberry blonde.

"My mother and brother Pete sold me when the rest weren't home," said Tiffany: "I'm sure the others didn't know."

"Well, let's go find out," said D'Arcy.


Half an hour later they were standing outside the small blue-painted door, of what had once been a nightclub decades earlier.

They hammered on the door with the pellet gun, for which they now only had four pellets left.

"What is it," asked a fat redheaded woman of fifty or do," after opening the door to them.

"That your Mum?" asked Derrin pointing the W&S500 at her.

"No!" shouted Tiffany: "That's my Auntie Vera." Then as an equally fat fifty-something blonde walked past behind Vera, Tiffany said: "That's my bloody Mum."

"Tiffany, what happened to you?" asked Vera: "We've been worried sick."

"Mum and Pete sold me to child slavers," explained the strawberry blonde.

"Those bastards," said Vera, hugging Tiffany to her enormous bosom.

"Pardon us," said D'Arcy as they pushed past her into the refurbished pub. To the shock of the insiders seated around a round table with a vinyl tablecloth: "We've brought Tiffany back."

"What?" asked the shocked blonde, dropping a skillet she was frying eggs in on a large wood-burning fire.

"Tiffany sends her loathe," said Natalie.

Then Nat and Derrin both shot the blonde in the head.

"What the Hell?" asked a fat dark-haired man standing.

"Is one of you her brother Pete?" asked Holly.

"Why?" asked the fat man.

"He and the trollop sold Tiffany to child slavers," explained Natalie.

"Jesus," said the fat man: "Poor Tiff, my little..."

Then at the sound of footsteps, they looked around and saw a tall, thin, raven-haired youth approach from the Little Russell Street side of the house.

"That's the bastard, now," said the fat man.

As Nat, Holly, Derrin, Petra, and D'Arcy all aimed their weapons at him, the youth dropped a leather backpack he had been carrying, spun around, and raced back through the badly lit lounge room-cum-foyer of the converted nightclub.

They fired half a dozen shots at him, missing in the poor light, then chased after the fleeing youth as he exited into Little Russell Street.

As they reached the doorway, they could hear his fleeing footsteps, so knew that he had not stopped to ambush them.

They finally reached the door, turned left, and started running after the youth who, however, was fast on his feet and was rapidly putting distance between himself and his pursuers.

"He'll get away if we don't shoot him soon!" cried Holly.

They stopped to take careful aim at the gangly youth when suddenly he stopped and turned to run back toward them. Just before two three-metre tall, bear-like Nan raced forward and grabbed the now screaming youth.

"What'll we do?" asked Petra.

"Nothing ... Nan gotta eat too," said D'Arcy.

So the five people backed slowly away as the two Nan started to rip Pete limb from limb.

"Help me!" shrieked the youth as the Nan ripped his legs out of their sockets.

The two Nan looked at the small crowd of watchers for a moment. Then when the five people backed away further, they turned back to rip Pete's arms from their sockets, enjoying the feeling of his hot blood squirting across them.

"No!" shrieked the limbless torso and head, that had recently been a young man.

Ignoring Pete, the two Nan greedily consumed the flesh and muscle off his limbs, before cracking open the bones to suck out the juicy marrow. Then moved across to start ripping pieces and organs away from his living torso. Until one ripped away his heart and the youth finally stopped screaming, as he died. Finally, they split open his skull and began to chew away his now lifeless brain.

When they had finally finished eating, the two Nan shrieked once at the five watchers. Then, bellies full, they turned and ran off down Little Russell Street.

"I think our work here is done," said D'Arcy. Before turning to lead them down Little Russell Street in the opposite direction to the Nan.


"Who's next?" asked Natalie, when they returned to the shopping plaza in Swanston Street.

Three little brunette girls, obviously triplets, put up their hands. After confirming that they were sisters, Natalie said:

"Okay, sweeties, come with us."

Nat, Holly, and Petra each picked up one of the little girls to carry them since they had to walk all the way up to and past Flagstaff Gardens.


This time it was a yellow-painted two-up two-down hovel they lived in. When they hammered on the door, a tall, obese man with greasy hair opened the door.

"What the fuck?" he said, his eyes almost popping out of his head as he saw the three little girls.

"Dat's him," said one of the girls pointing at the obese man: "He sold us when da west of how fambly was hout."

Derrin shot the man dead, then they walked into the ground floor lounge room, where five people had stopped watching DVDs to stare at them.

"Sugar! Spice! Honey!" cried a tall thin brunette racing forward to snatch the three little girls up.

"Don't tell me that's their names?" asked Holly.

"Dat's us," answered Honey.

"Your stepdad said you'd been taken by the Nan," said their mother.

"No, he sold us for a towzand dollars, to swavers," said Spice.

"That pig," said the woman.

"Well, we'll leave you all to get re-acquainted," said Derrin. Then to D'Arcy: "Help me to pull Shit out into the streets."

"Shit?" asked D'Arcy.

"Well if they're Sugar, Spice, and Honey..."

"That makes him Shit!" Holly finished for him, making them all laugh.

"Exactly," said Derrin, as they dragged the obese corpse out into the middle of the road.

"Seems a waste," said Petra: "Hopefully some Nan will come along to scoff him down before he goes cold."

As she spoke, they saw three hulking Nan in the distance heading in their direction.

"Waste not, want not!" said Petra, making them all laugh.

"I think that's our cue to leave," said Natalie.


The next couple of girls whom they tried to take home, they discovered that their families had moved. Without leaving their new address. And a couple of other families they found had been massacred by the Nan. But gradually they managed to deliver back to grateful families most of the girls, leaving themselves with twenty-seven that they could not find homes for. Finishing up a few days before ANZAC Day.

"So we gonna celebrate the departed soldiers?" asked Derrin.

"What for?" asked Natalie, ever the pragmatist: "They failed us in the Nan wars. Letting those monsters take over the planet."

"So what do we do now to amuse ourselves?" asked D'Arcy.

"I know what Derrin and I can do, now that he's much better," said Holly.

"Okay, then, what do we do so that we don't have to hear Holly and Derrin amusing each other?" asked Petra.

"We could always spend our time hunting down the Nan," suggested Nat.

"The entire armies, navies, air forces, coast guards, marines, etc., of the whole world, weren't able to erase the Nan," reminded D'Arcy: "So what chance will we have?"

"Well, we know Dominic Alexander's network of child slavers is still working," said Petra: "After they tried to half-inch our supplies a while back. So how about we try to wipe out some more of them."

"Well, we've still got George MacDonald's lists of names and addresses of his contacts," said Derrin.

"We barely got through half of them before," said Natalie.

"But there were only three of you then," said D'Arcy: "With me and Petra helping, there are now five of us."

"You realise we'll probably be adding to our supply of rescued girls if we go back to hunting down more child slavers?" asked Holly.

"So," said Nat shrugging: "That'll give us something else to do: taking them back to their families again."

"Okay, I suppose," agreed Holly, less enthusiastic than the others.


A week or so later they were just starting out when Petra called: "Wake up Holly! Your country needs you!"

"Sorry," apologised the redhead: "I was just remembering what Jason Robinson told us a couple of months ago."

"About the origins of the Nan?" asked Derrin.

"Yes," said Holly:


Mid-February 15,454 A.D.

"Are they aliens?" asked Holly.

"No, they're not aliens. They're throwbacks!"

"Throwbacks?" asked Derrin, not understanding.

"According to the scientists, the moment when we changed from mere hominids, if you like proto-humans, was when climate change forced Homo habilis to change from an all-fruit and vegetable diet to eating meat. Within ten thousand years his brain had doubled in size, so that he became the first of our ancestors to be able to think. And to speak in real words, rather than just making monkey gibberish sounds as our previous ancestors had done.

"After Homo habilis came Homo rudolfensis, Homo erectus, Homo antecessor, Homo heidelbergensis, Homo floresiensis, Homo neanderthalensis (the Neanderthals) and the most recently discovered Homo naledi. Before finally there came along Homo Sapiens, the thinking man. Although technically from Homo habilis onwards all of our ancestors could think.

"Then in the second half of the twentieth century certain fanatics calling themselves Vegetarians and the most extreme Vegans, started to say that eating meat was murder. They ignored the fact that our ape and monkey relatives also ate meat. And also that whole species of animals would have been extinct by the middle ages if we weren't breeding them to eat: cows, pigs, chickens. Without us breeding them for meat, milk, cheese, butter, eggs, etc., all of those species, plus many others would be extinct.

"But the main problem was devolution!"

"Diva who now?" asked Holly.

"Devolution," explained Jason Robinson: "Negative evolution, or reverse evolution. Evolution doesn't always go forward, it can go backward. For instance in Germany in the 1930s along came a brutal group of sadistic genocidal maniacs, the Nazis. The Nazis believed that they were a great evolutionary leap. And they probably were. But not a leap forward, but rather a devolutionary leap backward, into something far less human than Homo sapiens. Not back to Homo Habilis, but to something I like to call Homo brutalis, the brutal man. Something completely lacking in conscience, in the soul, in any kind of human decency. Something with no knowledge of morality, or of right or wrong.

"The vegetarian and vegan loonies did the same thing. After twelve thousand years or more, they devolved, degenerated if you like into what scientists, when there still were any scientists, called Neo Neanderthals, or Nan for short. Ironically Nan are vicious meat eaters, not inane vegetarians or Vegans like their feeble-minded ancestors!"

THE END
© Copyright 2025 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia