by Javan Bonds
I grinned like a child on Christmas day. I squeezed his shoulder and nearly hugged him. “That’s great, man! I wish we had more of them.”
He smiled and shrugged. I knew what he was thinking. We have a shitload of rifles, they would be enough. I guess that’s true, but only the rifles we captured from the military are equipped with grenade launchers. It would be preferable to have a broadside of sixteen pounders.
The caravel was outfitted with only one cannon and it was pointing out the back. Sure, the crew fired a few fireworks out of the thing as the boat left some ports. But I don’t think it was capable of launching anything beyond sparkling balls of powder. There was no denying that the genius of Gene Stanley could modify a bottle rocket launcher to shoot ICBMs with some dental floss and a Band-Aid. I was just not going to be the first to shoot the damn thing. I’d watch him do it and see if he blew his hand off.
Dr. George was the next to shake my hand. He offered, “The pastor is bringing steaks shortly.”
Steak as the last meal we would be eating besides fish? Fuck yes! We were beating Crow’s bland variety of unseasoned fish topped with fish and with a side of fish for what could be years. I thanked The Screenwriter that we were getting something good at our farewell party. The only thing missing was pizza or Dr. Pepper.
☠☠☠
Everyone sat down to eat. I asked the doctor, “You ready to go save Hermann?”
At his questioning look, I chuckled. “I mean, Von Spiegel.”
Come on, you know his first name’s got to be Hermann, Fritz, or Heinrich. He’s German! It’s kind of like Muslims. We know they are all named Mohammed or Sayed! Does that make me racist? I really don’t care. Wait a minute. Why would it be racist to make fun of Muslims but perfectly okay to make fun of white Europeans? Not all Muslims are Arab. You’re the racist here!
I made my way over to Hammer and her girlfriend. Before I could speak, the former pawnshop owner beat me to it. “Sarah said you win. She will go.”
I looked at her, confused. Eventually, my face cracked with a huge smile. I win! Shouldn’t “The Eye of the Tiger” be playing in the background? I wasn’t even trying. Until now, I would almost guarantee I would lose almost every argument I had with The Love Interest for the rest of my life. This victory was a complete surprise. If all I have to do to come out on top in a debate with her is to barely hold back tears before disappearing and getting wasted, I think I’ll win every argument. Wait, this is some kind of reverse psychology or something, right? I have no idea how, but she’s going to prove to me that I actually did not win the argument. After that, she’ll cut my penis off and staple it to my forehead.
I was almost afraid to ask. “So where’s she at?”
The Expert gestured in the direction of the stairs. “She’s down in your room. I don’t know if she’s coming up to eat or not.”
I don’t know why my first impulse was that she had killed herself and I should rush downstairs. What the fuck is wrong with me? She could be waiting to murder me! I should stay on the main deck and enjoy what could possibly be my last meal. I’m not a complete asshole I was at least thinking about her because of my passionate emotions and all that shit. Maybe I will get some brownie points by taking a steak down to her later.
☠☠☠
The food and the fellowship made me feel stronger and better concerning my rash decision-making. I was about to run off like a stupid teenager. All of us could possibly get raped and eaten. In that order.
As the party broke up, my father came to both of his children to shake our hands. “Mo, Easy, take care of yourselves – and each other.”
I tried to lighten the mood. As I laughed, I slapped my brother on the shoulder. “When he gets bit, I’ll be sure to put him down quick.”
Easy snickered and returned the slap on my shoulder. He nearly broke several bones and ruptured organs. “I might just put you down even before you get bit!”
My father laughed and attempted to wrangle up our mother. She cried and hugged every crew member several times before finally coming to us. “You boys will come back and everything will be okay, she spoke with knowing finality.
My father basically had to haul her off the boat. They, Hunter, the two Phantoms not accompanying us on this mission, and the Williamson clan made their way down the gangplank. Now I would have to go endure a throttling by the woman of my dreams. Then maybe we could start the voyage.
20
Located
THE CREATURE HAD run basically nonstop until it could see the target out in the water. Though unsure what had brought on the compulsion to search for this bulky shape, why the monster had any clue where to look, or even what it would do when the target was reached, the floating figure was now in the female’s line of sight. Nothing could lower its excitement at the achievement of this goal. The peevie was aware that while not by much, it was more than the average naked cannibal. There was no particular sense of superiority to others, it simply knew that it had a goal to achieve, something more than the animalistic urgings of the rest of the packs. This one didn’t want to merely survive, it was hunting a specific target for reasons other than only to feed. The reasons could not be realized, but there were reasons.
There were only brief pauses in the journey to eat a small animal or drink from a pond. Every other available fiber of being was focused on finding this thing. The blue, yellow-eyed monster began pacing, trying to figure out how it would get across the water as the shape began moving and turned to directly face this one.
Was this a creature? Was it able to see? The peevie was about to retreat into the darkness when it started moving. The female backed up as the beast came within a few hundred yards of its current position and turned to the right. This creature was waterborne and perhaps could not move on dry land.
Distracted from the female, the waterborne animal began moving further down the river as if it had completely forgotten it had just seen a peevie that actively sought the destruction of it and the unnatural beings inside. The peevie formerly known as Warden Slice almost screeched in frustration when the monster did not come for her on land. The naked animal decided the thing would need to be followed until it came to dry land so it could be attacked. The peevie’s mouth watered. Eventually the victor would be blue. The female would never be able to forget the only reason it had raced hundreds of miles. It would never tire until the demise of Ezekiel Collins.
21
Mo Journal Entry 5
I BEGAN MY trek downstairs. I was about to possibly be murdered by the love of my life. I stood at my door trying to decide on how to enter. Should I simply go in? Maybe I should just open the door and step back in case there was a booby-trap. As much as I joke about it, I didn’t seriously think she would physically harm me. I was still having a hard time shaking off the mental image of Sarah hanging by her neck from a rope tied to the ceiling fan. The room doesn’t even have a ceiling fan! I was going to be pissed at her if she had killed herself over an argument with some pathetic loser that was completely unworthy of being in a relationship with her.
I finally opened the door. I paused when discovering no bucket of mayonnaise falling onto my head. There was no fist coming into contact with my jaw. I was not even greeted by a dead and mutilated girlfriend hanging from a noose.
I walked into the room. She was nowhere to be seen. “Sarah?”
I set the plate of leftovers on the chest. I moved to the foot of the bed and was about to sit. Perhaps she had gone to use the restroom or something. A figure suddenly tackled me onto the bed. Without even seeing my attacker, I was willing to bet it was a gimp. I hope he uses lubrication before he penetrates me.
I was thankful my presumed rapist was not a slack-jawed yokel or a big, hairy, black guy. It was, surprisingly, The Love Interest. I just knew it had to be a crazy gay rapist that snuck onto the boat unnoticed with the sole intent of making me squeal like a pig. She forced me to endure the roughest intercourse I have ever experienced. I’ve never
been one of those people that like my sex to hurt, but if this is her way of apologizing and telling me that she was wrong, I think we need to argue more.
Because this is not erotica I’m not going to detail our explicit sexual foray. Instead, I think I’m going to go back to something I just mentioned and am sure you would much rather read. It’s on my mind, so I’ll fill you in on my hate for mayonnaise.
☠☠☠
There are few things nastier than the evil known as mayonnaise. It beats black olives by a mile in its ungodly vileness. Put all the delicious peppers and mushrooms on a pizza you can fit onto it then drop one slice of a black olive on the pie. That’s the only thing I will taste: It destroys everything it touches. It’s kinda like the edible equivalent of a peevie, just not blue and covered in shit. Actually, I don’t know which one I would choose.
Mayonnaise is even more similar to zombie shit. They share nearly the same texture and stink up the immediate area. The color is the only hint you are not looking at a jar full of excrement. When the dumbass at the Burger King drive-through puts mayonnaise on my damn cheeseburger after I specifically tell him not to, I would rather follow a sewage truck down a bumpy road with my mouth open.
All condiments would be preferable to this satanic version of rotten egg whites. Except horseradish and coleslaw, which is mayonnaise-based. Ketchup kicks ass. Mustard is pretty good. Any kind of hot sauce or ranch dressing makes anything better. All kinds of cheese are good. Pickles go on anything. You can even cook an egg and top it with anything; I’ll eat the hell out of it. Nothing is as vomit-inducing as a jar of creamy, white feces.
I wonder which would be worse. A hamburger splashed with mayonnaise or soaked in the ass-butter of peevies. If I was hungry, I would rather wipe out the turd gap of a cannibal nudist with my burger than get it anywhere near a sprinkling of the noxious spread called mayonnaise. Yes, I know I’d get infected. It would be worth not having to suffer through another burger covered in the white goop.
☠☠☠
I forced myself to get out of bed and get some clothes on. It took me a minute to realize my most recent escapade had not taken much longer than half an hour. I know you made the joke about getting in and out too quickly. I’m the one getting laid here, so kiss my ass.
All I had to do was call Gene on the radio. I don’t know why the hell I felt the need to go to the deck to wave at absolutely no one that came to see us off. There were no crying farewells. No children could be seen ready to follow us from shore. I guess I just would not be satisfied without seeing how unloved I truly am.
I stood near the ship’s wheel, happy to be off. The Tech stood with a joystick in his hand, waiting for my command. Really, he seriously wired the engine to a fucking joystick? He continued staring at me, patiently waiting for my order.
I dropped my head into my hands. I knew what he wanted. Looking up, I threw my fingers forward. “Engage!”
The Dungeon Master smiled from ear to ear. He directed the ship like it was Mechwarrior. “Aye aye, Cap’n!”
We were now bound for the open seas. Two small motorboats tied on shorelines to the back of the Cora were our only backups if we were to somehow sink the boat. I’ve never really checked to see if we have life rafts on board. If we have life vests I have no clue where they are. Shit! As much of a pussy as I am, you’d think I would take an insignificant amount of time to locate the emergency supplies in the event we were forced to abandon ship. But that would require putting forth some effort and get in the way of my laziness. Not going to happen!
☠☠☠
I grabbed onto the rail. “Whoa! I think this is déjà vu!”
The Tech seemed worried. “What do you mean?”
I spoke in my best impression of a stoner. “I feel like I’ve been here before, man!”
He exaggerated a sigh. Of course I had been to the Guntersville Dam. Everyone in the county had been to this hydroelectric dam more than once in their lives. I looked down to scream at my sister-in-law about opening the locks when I saw that she and her enraged husband were already coming this way. Oh shit. What now?
“I told you to take us south!” my brother bellowed.
I looked at him, confused. “I am, dammit!”
“You fucking liar! We’re going north.”
I clicked my tongue. I’m sure Easy knew the dam was north of Guntersville, but he had not been on the deck and wouldn’t know where we were. “Did Gene give you a compass?”
Easy looked offended. “I don’t need a compass!” He pointed to the sun.
Oh! I see now. As I explained, Guntersville is at the bottom of a “V” in the Tennessee River. I thought he knew this.
I attempted to explain without sounding too condescending. “We have to go north before the river turns south. I’m not fucking with you, man. Go look at the map again if you don’t believe me.”
Mr. Clean stopped huffing and puffing. He relented. “Fine.” Then he turned to his wife. “Baby, can you go open the dam?”
She nodded and both were off. This area was guarded and clear of peevies, but it was always best to have a superhero at your side as a bodyguard.
☠☠☠
The Cora traveled up the river for a few boring hours. We finally came to a very notable landmark. Brown’s Ferry Nuclear Power Plant.
This wasn’t the typical nuclear power plant that movies make you think they all look like. There were no giant white cooling silos, just a couple of long buildings housing cooling pools. Most people wouldn’t even know it was a nuclear power plant if it wasn’t for the signs.
I began hearing a beeping. I instinctively looked to my upper left for a Fallout RADs counter. Not finding the traditional HUD display, I turned to Gene. “What the fuck is that?”
“I’m just making sure we’re not in danger.”
I cocked my head. “You have a Geiger counter?”
He held up the device as if it was as common as a cell phone before the collapse of civilization. “Duh.”
He wasn’t panicking. No one on the Cora seemed to be complaining of boiling skin or growing extra appendages. I’m guessing we were okay. Maybe that says something about all those nuclear power plants out west. All the survivalists assumed the eastern half of the United States would be in unlivable nuclear winter for hundreds of years. Regardless, it’s probably a good thing that this is one of only three nuclear power plants in the state. We won’t have to worry about getting attacked by mutants. Wait, Gene already wears X-Men memorabilia! Looks like Al Gore just got bitch slapped by God and nature. I don’t believe humans could possibly kill the world, even on purpose. I suppose if you are inside a nuclear reactor when it fails you would melt to death. But I’ve read Earth Abides. The planet doesn’t need us. The Big George Romero Fan in the Sky just sent a big “fuck you” to all those retards screaming about climate change.
I kept my rifle trained on the facility as we passed. I was happily surprised to see no irradiated zombies like in Day by Day Armageddon, or anything moving at all. The nuclear fallout had seemingly killed the grass and trees surrounding the place. The radiation had apparently dissipated in this short amount of time … either that or Gene slipped some Rad-X in our fish this morning. Does this mean that radiation would not taint a puddle of water for centuries? This brings everything in my life into question.
☠☠☠
Speaking of growing extra appendages, that would really be the only good thing about deadly nuclear radiation minus the dying and stuff. I would want to grow a tail. Think how awesome that would be! You could wipe your butt and not have to wash your hands! Or jerk off while eating a sandwich! Imagine the possibilities.
22
Memoirs of Benji 3
Landers’ Home
I CAN FLY cargo planes and fighter jets and Devin is also capable of flying. While I know how to operate a helicopter, I am not what you would call an expert. Dugan, one of the Marines, used to fly an Apache or something, so he volunteered to sit behind the control
s of this bird.
Dugan, Devin, and seven other men loaded into the chopper to hop over to the Landers’ home. That left me and ten surviving servicemen on the roof. What the hell were we supposed to do while we waited? I guess it’s a good thing we already cleared the hangar. None of them tried, but they wouldn’t have been able to talk me into going into another one. There were no more peevies in this building. I just thank God we didn’t have to deal with any of the damn blunatics.
☠☠☠
I got the story of this mission from Devin when they got back. I’m not sure if I can describe the horror in the same graphic detail he provided, but I will certainly try.
Dugan landed the bird in the open street and the entire group cautiously made our way to the darkened house. When we came to the door, Carmack and Fredericks moved to either side and Carmack tried the door knob. Locked. That can either be a good thing or a bad thing. Carmack placed a minuscule amount of C4 on each hinge before a small pop sounded and the door fell. We could see straight in through the living room into the kitchen.
There was light shining through the small window above the sink. The living room in front and to our right was somewhat darker, and the blinds were closed. I almost threw up when I could smell and see shit covering the entire front room. Not because my stomach is that weak, I just knew what that meant for my family.
I had to choke back tears as I slammed the butt of my rifle through the front window. Broken blinds and shattered glass fell onto the floor. At least now we could be positive the front room was peevie free. We entered, McMurtry and Rundt clearing the small closed-in room.
The unit came to the opening leading to the kitchen. We could see light shining in from the back door of the house in the den to our immediate left. It was obvious the curtain was open in the dining room to the immediate right of the kitchen. That meant only the laundry room coming directly off the dining room and the bedrooms could possibly be infested. Just my fucking luck.