“Will you just find me some?” Bruce asked reaching over and opening an ammo can.
Letting out a sigh, “Sure thing, Dad,” Steve told him. “You need to call Base. The mommas want a word with you.”
“I haven’t done anything!” Bruce yelled out in defense.
“Shit Dad, I’m just relaying the message, don’t bite my head off! My wife does that enough,” Steve snapped.
Laughing, “Tonya is nothing but a sweetheart,” Bruce said.
“Never said she wasn’t,” Steve replied. “But when she’s mad, holy shit! I want to run and hide.”
Pulling off his vest, Bruce let it drop to the floor. “You find a good hiding spot, you let me know,” Bruce said.
“Maybe,” Steve chuckled. “You’re ready.”
Hearing clicks in his helmet, Bruce reached up and pushed the transmit bar, “Base, this is Big Daddy.”
“About fucking time you called!” Angela shouted.
Taking a deep breath, “I’ve been busy,” Bruce answered.
“Yeah, we watched,” Angela popped off. “What the hell do you have Jake doing?”
“I’ll tell you when we land.”
“Ah, how about now?” Angela snapped.
“Woman!” Bruce shouted and fifteen hundred miles away, Angela jumped. “I’ll tell you when we land!”
“Um, okay, Bruce,” Angela replied meekly, making Bruce feel like shit. “I’m sorry if I made you mad.”
“No, Little Foot, I just can’t say. I’ll tell you when we get home,” Bruce told her. “I need you to tell Red to find Sandy. I have some stuff I need them to read for me.”
“I can read,” Angela told him.
“Not this you can’t,” Bruce shot back. “It’s force equations about molecular and atomic mass.”
Hearing that, Angela almost dropped the mic. “Stephanie and Sandy will be waiting when you land,” Angela replied quickly.
Laughing, “Is that all you wanted me to call for?” he asked.
“No, just wanted to tell you how proud we were that you didn’t do anything crazy,” she replied with joy.
Not sure how to take that, Bruce looked over at Gene who was asleep, then over to Ted and Carl who both had on flight helmets and were laughing. “So, I get a gold star or something?” Bruce asked.
“I’m thinking something better,” Angela chuckled.
Smiling as he leaned his head back, “See you in a few hours, Little Foot,” Bruce said, letting the transmit bar go.
“Took a chance, popping off at her like that,” Ted told him over the intercom.
Shaking his head, “I’m not in the mood,” Bruce warned, leaning over and grabbing the briefcase from Patrick. He had only glanced at the folders inside and knew it was way over his head, and just the idea it was over his head pissed him off making him want to understand it. Opening the case, he pulled out a folder, closed the case, and used it as a desk.
Taking a breath, he opened the folder, looking at the first page of equations. A big black finger pointed at one equation, “That’s chemistry,” Gene said beside him.
“Yes, more precisely, it’s stoichiometry,” Bruce corrected with a grin, he could do stoichiometry.
Leaning back and looking at the paper, “Just know I had to learn that shit in college,” Gene mumbled. “Have no idea what that other shit is, I don’t see many numbers and an ass load of symbols and Greek letters. Sorry, but I have a problem adding symbols and letters.”
Pointing at the equations across from the first one then down the page, “That is atomic force microscopy, atomic force equations, atomic wave equation, and this last one is quantum mathematic formulas,” Bruce said. “The lay person would say nanotechnology.”
“Shit, I’m a lay person and I say chicken scratch,” Gene said looking at the paper. “You can interpret that?”
Looking up with a shocked expression, “Hell no,” Bruce said. “I may know what they look like, but without a calculator, a pencil, and a shit load of paper, I can barely work my way through the basics of any of them, except stoichiometry.”
“Better than me,” Gene admitted. “What do you ‘think’ all that is?”
Studying the page, Bruce leafed through the stack, finding the same equations but with different values. “I’m just guessing, but it looks like they were going through the periodic table, comparing different elements to something.”
Laughing, Gene patted Bruce’s back, “That’s another reason I always liked you. You’re smarter than you let on.”
“Gene, I already said I wasn’t in the mood,” Bruce said, trying to work through the equations to get a better idea what was going on.
“Ask Patrick,” Gene said pointing across the chopper.
“I will later,” Bruce mumbled, dragging his finger across the page.
“Ted, put a helmet on the geek,” Gene said over the intercom. Ted got up, moving to the flight chief and brought back a helmet, putting it on Patrick. “Patrick, what is with all the equations?”
Patrick’s mouth started moving and Ted slapped his leg and showed him the talk bar. “Those are attempts to figure out why europium is so deadly to them and the other compounds we tried aren’t,” he answered.
“Patrick,” Bruce said looking up. “Shut up, I’m working it out.”
“Sorry, he asked,” Patrick said sitting back.
Glancing over at Bruce, Gene smiled, “Don’t worry about him, Patrick, Bruce doesn’t like to not understand something.”
“Hey, dickhead!” Bruce shouted looking up. “You have no idea how hard it’s been trying to learn this stupid shit! I’ve tried since I met Stephanie because everyone else in the house had a basic understanding, except me. This shit is representing stuff too small for this many calculations! Anything that fucking small should have tiny fucking numbers!”
“Well, you know more than ninety-nine percent do, if you know that much,” Patrick said across from them. Bruce slowly turned glaring at him and Patrick held up his hands, “But you’re right. Stephanie will understand them quickly.”
Closing the folder, Bruce carefully put it back, “I think I want to be president and pass a law saying you can’t use mathematics that I don’t understand,” Bruce said and Carl slid out of his seat laughing, crashing to the floor.
Trying not to laugh too hard, “Bruce, you can act so juvenile sometimes,” Gene chuckled.
“Buffy would agree with me,” Bruce said leaning back. “Last week, Stephanie had her doing pushups for not understanding differential geometry. When Buffy asked me for help, all I could do was look at the piece of paper, willing it to fly away.”
The laughter died on Gene’s lips, “What the hell is differential geometry?”
“Combination of differential and integral calculus, linear, and multilinear algebra,” Bruce answered, glancing out the window to see the world outside getting brighter.
Across the chopper bay, Ted jumped up, “You’re not supposed to combine mathematics, and one area of mathematics definitely shouldn’t have more than one name. Algebra is algebra and calculus is calculus, that’s it.”
Lifting his chin up and leaning forward, “Hate to tell you this, but each is broken into many different branches,” Bruce told him.
“And Stephanie’s making Buffy learn it?” Ted asked.
Nodding, “She’s been doing really well so far,” Bruce admitted. “If I would’ve been Buffy, I would’ve run away when Stephanie started calculus.”
Ted looked back at Carl, “We need to get that girl out so she can have some fun.”
“The movie theater is open in Hope now. Let’s take our girls and Buffy to the movies,” Carl offered.
Liking that, Ted sat back down, “That sounds good,” he smiled. “If that stalker Marty shows up, he swims with the gators.”
Staring at the two with no emotion on his face, “Guys, she is a girl. Don’t try to kill boys just because they want to talk to her,” Bruce told them.
“Men, rem
ember what I told you,” Gene growled. Ted and Carl sat up straight in their seats.
“Yes, sir,” the both shouted.
Shaking his head, “Don’t try my patience,” Gene said sitting back. “If the time comes, I’ll let you teach the little stalker a lesson.”
Both smiled and shouted, “Yes, sir!”
Not wanting to get into that and seeing it was brighter outside, Bruce walked over to the portside window and leaned over the mini gun. All the helicopters were spread out across the sky and it seemed like there were hundreds, instead of the eighty-four. “That makes a statement,” he chuckled.
“Shit Dad, you should’ve seen it when Mack had all the choppers in Base fly last month. Six hundred and twelve. It looked like we were invading earth,” Steve laughed over the intercom.
“Where the hell was I at?” Bruce shouted.
“Killing blues on the Arkansas border,” Steve answered. “But don’t worry, we had another three hundred or so brought in and Mack’s getting them up to speed, and he said he’s going to do it again.”
“I damn well better be there for that one,” Bruce whined. “Steve, put me on air traffic radio.”
“You got it,” Steve said and Bruce heard clicks in his earphones.
“Flight team this is Bruce. My chopper is going to break away, so no cause for alarm. Continue on to Base and we will meet you there,” Bruce called out.
Getting several acknowledgments, Stephanie’s voice roared over the radio, “What the hell are you about to do?!”
“Little Red, don’t start,” Bruce said, stepping away from the window. “I need to see something.”
“You’re over Kentucky! What on earth do you need to see?!” she yelled.
“I don’t know what bug crawled up yours and Angela’s ass today, but you two need to kill it,” Bruce snapped. “I have to see something and that’s the end of discussion!”
“You-,” Stephanie yelled as Bruce turned off the radio in his helmet.
“Steve, shut the radio off and don’t answer calls,” Bruce said over the intercom.
“Uh, Dad? We still have to land there and they’ll be waiting,” Steve warned. “I’m married, and that means my wife will side with them.”
“Right now, I don’t give a shit,” Bruce said grabbing his SCAR. “When do we refuel?”
“About to now,” Steve called back.
“Tell them we’re first, then head to Knoxville and find me some blues,” Bruce said sitting down.
As Steve moved to the front of the formation to the tankers, Gene leaned over, “Boy, they are pregnant and will whoop your ass,” he said with bulging eyes. Bruce just locked him in a cold stare. After a few minutes, Gene held up his hands, not able to tolerate the stare anymore. “Don’t come crying to me when they shoot you in the knee and take your balls.”
Laying his head back, Bruce closed his eyes, feeling the bump as Steve latched onto the fueling probe. The next thing Bruce felt was a tap on his shoulder, “Bruce, Knoxville is just ahead,” Ted said standing over him.
Looking at his watch and seeing he’d only dozed for an hour, Bruce got up, walking to the port side gunners window again. “Steve, hover near a bridge, but make sure those super smurfs can’t jump on us,” Bruce said, grabbing an ammo can and pushing it over near the window with his foot.
Slowly, the giant chopper descended and the details started emerging from the city. “I’m going to hover by that interstate bridge near downtown,” Steve called out.
Flying slowly forward, blues started filling the roads below them, running to keep up. When they neared downtown, they had a substantial horde below them and Steve dropped down till he was a hundred yards from the bridge but still above it. “Hold for a second, Steve,” Bruce called out, looking for a lone blue as the bridge quickly filled up.
As the chopper hovered over the Tennessee River with its nose aimed at the bridge, Bruce spotted a lone blue on the bank. Lifting his rifle to his shoulder and figuring the blue was close to three hundred meters, he aimed center mass and squeezed the trigger. The water right in front of the blue splashed when the round hit. Adjusting his aim, Bruce squeezed the trigger again and saw the bullet hit the blue in the right hip.
The blue turned slightly with the impact and opened its mouth to continue to roar but stopped as it swayed on its feet. Looking down at its hip, the blue collapsed. “Fuck me with a midget,” Bruce mumbled lowering his rifle.
“Put the port side to the bridge and bring us even with the bridge,” Bruce called out, bringing up his rifle. The chopper slowly rotated and Bruce saw the mass of blues roaring and clawing the air at the chopper. Picking out a target, Bruce squeezed the trigger, watching the bullet hit a blue in the chest.
As Bruce watched, it fell down, as did two behind it. Lowering the barrel, Bruce smiled and lifted it back up to start rapid firing into the horde. Everyone inside watched as a pocket of blues fell down dead with only one magazine of bullets. None of Bruce’s shots hit a head, and everyone had witnessed the amount of damage a blue could take before dying.
Ejecting the empty magazine, “Daddy has a new fucking toy! That midget can fuck me with a broom!” Bruce yelled with a grin, slamming in a new magazine. The pocket he’d created was filled again as he started sending hate downrange.
The others on the chopper watched in amazement as Bruce once again, wiped out a pocket of blues with one magazine. “What the fuck are you shooting them with?” Steve yelled over the intercom.
“Magic fucking bullets baby!” Bruce shouted, ejecting the magazine. “Find me a midget and a bicycle to fuck me all night long!” he hollered, letting out a rebel yell and slamming in a new magazine.
Standing behind Bruce, Carl’s mouth was hanging open as Bruce opened up again. Mesmerized, Carl would watch a round hit one blue, pass through it into the ones behind, and a line of them would fall down. Sometimes, it was two or three dying with one shot and other times, as many as six.
Dropping the empty magazine, Bruce slammed in another and opened up again, clearing out a pocket as a UAV circled above. Back at Base Hope, the command bunker was silent, seeing only the flash of one gun but a wall of blues falling down and dying outright.
Ejecting his fifth magazine, “Crew chief, drop the back ramp and Steve, point the ass of this beast at the bridge,” Bruce called out laughing. “Care to join me, gentlemen?” he said, looking at Ted, Carl, and Gene.
Everyone dove to an ammo can and slammed in new magazines as the ramp lowered. The four moved back and opened up. Like an invisible hand was moving over the bridge, the blues fell down in waves faster than the horde could fill in the pocket they were creating.
The four started shouting as they replaced magazines and continued firing as the bodies started piling up. Seeing that the ammo can they were using was almost gone, the crew chief moved another one up as the four kept firing.
With smoke pouring off their barrels after the second box, the four dove in the third box the crew chief had opened. Spinning around, the crew chief pulled out his M4 and ejected his magazine, putting in a magazine of magic bullets and joined in.
Nobody was even aiming at specific targets anymore; they were just putting the crosshairs chest high and pulling the trigger. Noticing his barrel was starting to turn white and pouring off smoke, Bruce lowered his rifle, looking down at the six empty ammo cans.
Lifting his head to look at the bridge, the dead were stacked four feet high across all four lanes and the blues weren’t even climbing over them anymore as the pile of dead created a hundred-yard-long gap in the middle of the horde. “Cease fire!” Bruce yelled, seeing that everyone’s weapons were pouring smoke and turning a chalky white.
Hearing the cease fire, Steve rotated the chopper around and gasped, looking at the mound of dead. “Stick a fork up my ass and I’ll take some magic bullets,” he mumbled.
Back at Base, the entire command room was staring with open mouths at the scene. It had taken both Omega and Gamma with heavy we
apons, to do what five shooters had just accomplished in fifteen minutes.
“Son, take us home so I can find me a midget!” Bruce sang out over the intercom. Carefully, Bruce put his rifle on the floor and walked to his seat as the crew chief closed the ramp.
With a last look, Steve pulled up and flew over the city gaining altitude. “I’m finding me a motherfucker selling magic beans,” Steve said to his co-pilot who nodded. “If magic bullets can do that, I want to see what magic beans can do.”
Chapter 4
With Steve flying alone, he opened the massive chopper up and caught up with the attack group just before they reached the base. Setting the chopper down near a group of black SUVs, Steve shut the engines down. “I feel like I’m stuck to this chair,” he grumbled getting up.
Bruce climbed out as the family ran over, “Hey guys,” he smiled.
“What the hell were you shooting at them?” Danny yelled. “That was fucking awesome!”
“Magic bullets,” Bruce smiled as he wrapped her up in a hug.
“I want some magic bullets,” Danny squealed.
“That can be arranged,” Bruce laughed, putting her down as Buffy hobbled over and jumped up in his arms. “Let me guess, you want some magic bullets also?”
“Hell yeah! You weren’t even capping them in the head,” she laughed as he squeezed her then put her down. The twins, with Cade and PJ charging him, Bruce knelt down hugging them in a group.
Seeing the duo coming, Bruce let them go, in case an ass whooping was coming, “I’m a grown man, so don’t try and dictate my movements,” he said with a grimace.
They both lunged hugging him, “We just wanted you home!” Angela cried out.
“Don’t be mad!” Stephanie wailed. Feeling like a dick and knowing he would do whatever it took to make them happy, Bruce just sighed.
Pulling them close, Bruce hugged them hard and let go, smiling at them, “You can take my balls, but I want them back before I go out again.”
“No, they don’t look right on me,” Angela snorted.
“Don’t look at me. I trip over them when I wear them, so you can keep them, Bruce,” Stephanie smiled.
Blue Plague (Book 7): Hope Page 4