He had read how it was explained that it was simply a sign of aging. The little specks were shadows cast by strands of the vitreous, the gel-like filling that keeps your eye round. The vitreous shrinks over time, becoming stringy in the process. These strings start to cast shadows that you see as black spots. He called them floaters and had noticed that they had started happening a few months ago. It was just a minor nuisance. He thought that it might be related to the amount of spirits that he currently imbibed, maybe it was the onset of diabetes, but he smiled and quickly rejected those thoughts. But the black dot that he saw now wasn't a problem with his eyes. The road stretched before him and disappeared on the western horizon. Every mile it was intersected by a dirt road that ran north and south. He had not come far past the last crossroad. He squinted his eyes and although it was almost a mile in the distance, he thought that he saw movement at the next intersection. They plodded along and as they drew closer he confirmed to himself that it was a figure of a person walking back and forth across the road. He got a bad feeling about this. He thought that it could be one of the "Abettors" assigned to capture any who might decide that "paradise" wasn't for them. Off to his right there was an expanse of hay field. It had recently been cut and scores of large round bales wrapped in plastic dotted the field. He pulled Fireball's head to the right and they started weaving their way through the large hay bales. His intention was to cut at an angle across the field and come out on the road that ran north, avoiding whoever it was on the road ahead. He kept his eyes on the intersection as they went winding their way through the field. He thought that they were about halfway across the field when he noticed the figures coming north on the road. There were two of them and they were riding bicycles. He felt that this was going to be trouble. He was sure now that they were "Abettors", two goons who fanatically enforced the dictates of the "Seers". He reached inside his bib overalls and grasped the .45. There was no way, he thought, that he would be turned back. "Let's see how serious these boys are old girl, they won't be flogging me with a hydraulic hose tonight" he whispered to Fireball. He thumbed down the safety, pulled back the slide and released it. It snapped forward. A round of Gold Dot 230 grain hollow point slid smoothly into the chamber. There were six more in the magazine. It had belonged to his father. His father carried it when he was in Laos, training Hmong in operations against the NVA. He had carried it in Yusufiyah, and other areas in what they called the "Triangle of Death". It had never failed him. He tucked it back inside his overalls. The two men had positioned themselves on the road to intercept him. He decided to confront them. As he drew near the road, he sized the two up quickly. He assumed the oldest looking one was the leader. He looked to be early forties, crew cut, about two forty, muscular. The other maybe mid twenties, tall, athletic, muscle shirt, cocky look on his face. The leader approached him smiling and said, "Hello comrade..and where might you be headed this fine day?" He looked the man square in the eye and replied, " Well, I'm headed northwest a ways more...I'm going to see if I can find something other to eat besides stewed swiss chard and boiled horse meat. Now if you boys don't mind, I'll just be on my way ". The older man chuckled, "Well, I can't fault you for that!" ..but then his tone changed and the smile faded from his face. "Friend, you've gone as far as you're going to go today. Now you can either turn around and head back to the camp or we're going to pull you off this old nag and drag your sorry ass back...what's It going to be? " He paused a bit, looked up to the sky, then said darkly, "I think I'll oblige you to give it a try" The man snickered and came around on his left side. He had roughly grabbed Fireball by the bosal which startled her. He moved closer and reached to grab him. In one smooth motion he leaned back, cocked his leg and snapped out a vicious kick that caught the man flush on the nose. It made a crackling sound like smashing a zip lock bag filled with water and peanut brittle with a solo cup. The man went down in a heap, spluttering bright red blood and spitting teeth. The younger man had come around on his right side. The excitement had frightened Fireball and she reared up and pivoted to the right. As she came down her pie plate sized hoof slammed across the young man's cuneiform bones on his right foot. It made a noticeable crunching sound. He fell to the ground, grasping his leg and howling in pain. He guessed that he wasn't quite as athletic as he appeared to be. Fireball lunged forward knocking the bicycles over. Before he could calm her, she had stepped on both front wheels crushing the rims and bending the spokes. By that time the older man had gotten to his knees. The younger man had sat up and pulled off his boot and sock. Tears and snot were dripping down his face. The foot was already swelling and turning purple. He drew his .45 smoothly from his overalls and waited long enough to assure himself that they had both noticed it. "Looks like both you boys will be walking home tonight"..he said calmly.." Now this here is a Colt .45 model 1911. Her name is "Ventilator." Now what I want you boys to do is take your boots off, tie them together and toss them up to me. Then you can start walking home. And if you dont , old "Ventilator" is going to start talking, and if I have to put a round through one of your knees, you boys just might miss dinner tonight". The old man glared at him. "We're going to get you for this you squirrel headed bastard". "Now listen up lickspittle"..he said.. "You tell your overlords that I'm resigning from the burial team. You'll most likely find their fat asses in a hot tub with a glass of Brut. Now throw them boots up here and get walking." When they had done what he said he tossed the old man the plastic gallon jug of water and the can of peaches. "Don't try to come after me boys"..he said. "..next time somebody might get hurt". He turned Fireball's head, tucked the .45 back in his overalls and headed north down the road. After a couple of minutes he looked back over his shoulder. He could see the two "Abettors" hobbling south on the road, supporting each other. The bicycles lay in the middle of the road. "They'll be a while getting back"..he thought. "Well old girl...you make me proud" he said as he patted her neck. Fireball shook her head and mane. It was about six more miles to Antler.