by Mark Tufo
“Why you?” Brian asked.
“Why me what?” I asked him back.
“Why’d they send you on this little mission?” he asked.
“I volunteered. On reflection that doesn’t seem too bright now.”
“Understatement, my man. Any idea how long your ‘friend’ might take?”
Brian fell into me as a giant explosion rocked our shed and the compound as a whole.
“It’d be safe to say now,” I said as I regained my balance and opened the door a bit farther. Guards were scurrying about, looking for the new threat. Some had not left their posts but they seemed distracted. “You ready?” I asked Brian as I shoved some more rounds into my pistol.
“Well, I do have ‘to die’ on my bucket list.”
“I think we’ll get along fabulously,” I told him.
Brian took down two guards. I was able to kill one with my less than climactic weapon. I was having blue beam envy.
“Do we keep pressing the attack?” Brian asked as the guards rallied.
“Not sure if we’ll get another opportunity!” I shouted over the din.
I was a few shots left of running out of bullets in my magazine. I had to get one of the alien weapons before it was time to reload. Blue streaks came off to our right side and into the exposed flanks of the alien guards. They were caught in a small crossfire.
“Way to go, Dee,” I said as we hid behind some pallets. I quickly shoved rounds into the magazine.
Brian kept up a withering assault. The aliens still seemed reluctant to shoot our way, but did not hesitate to shoot in the direction from where Dee’s shots were ringing out.
Dee’s shots were becoming less and less frequent as they began to pin him down. “We’ve got to help my friend.”
“Did you just say ‘friend’?” Brian asked.
“It’s complicated.”
“You will tell me later.”
“I will. Promise.” I stood up and was staring straight down the giant barrel of one of those stupid ray guns, but the guard didn’t fire. He had me dead to rights and yet I lived. “This is going to hurt you way more than it’s going to hurt me,” I told the guard as I blasted him twice with my heavy rounds.
“They’re not shooting!” Brian said excitedly as he kept mowing the guards down.
“I’ve noticed that before,” I said, ducking down to reload. “They won’t do much of anything without orders.”
“Sucks for them!” he yelled, still blasting away. He had moved away from our hidey-hole and was heading right for the guards who looked as stunned as I felt.
They started backing up, almost falling over themselves in a rush to get away from the crazy hu-man advancing on them.
“We might be puny!” Brian shouted, “but we’re not stupid!” He blazed away.
“Got you a gun!” he said turning back toward me.
“Well, fuck this,” I said sticking the half-filled pistol back into its holster. I jumped up and ran to meet him. “In for a dime, in for a dollar,” I said almost like a prayer.
I grabbed the rifle, my heart crushing violently against my rib cage and looked up to truly get an idea of the predicament we were in. It was not an enviable position. A small wall of still functioning Genogerian guards were in front of us and they had backed up, but they were not in total retreat mode. We were also in the open with clear firing lanes from us to at least three guard towers. There had to have been at least fifty or sixty weapons pointed at us, yet we stood.
“Spindler, let’s go!” I yelled. The uneasy detente did not break.
“Is it safe?” I heard him whimper.
“Sure!” I answered.
“That’s kind of mean,” Brian said between heavy breaths.
“Don’t worry, he’s kind of a dick.”
Spindler came out of the shed, followed by a couple of kids who couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve, a middle aged couple, and a young woman.
“This a good idea, putting everyone out here like this?” Brian asked. He kept his rifle at the ready.
“Sure.”
“That’s the same answer you gave Spindler.”
“I know,” I said, looking around for Dee. I could hear the high-pitched whine of fighters as they streaked to our position. I looked up as death approached.
“What now?” Brian asked holding his ground.
If the fighter had serial numbers I would have been able to read them as it bore down.
“Will they fire so close to their own kind?” Brian asked.
“They give about as much a shit for the Genogerians as they do about us,” I replied.
“I take it these are Genogerians then?” Brian asked, clearly confused. “What else is there?”
“There are two classes, the smaller Progerians run the show and they’re usually a different color.”
“Oh I thought he was just old. The commandant I mean, I saw him the first day I got here.”
The Genos were still not firing but we might as well have had a ‘drop bomb here’ sign on us. The guards were backing up, they knew what was going to happen.
“We’re fucked,” I said just as vapor trails came from left to right above our location. The fighter that was bearing down on us so diligently was now in a full out scramble to pull up as three stinger missiles, shot from the ground, sought purchase.
“We’ve got to go!” I yelled to Brian, pulling his sleeve, he was so intent on watching the missiles he was missing our opportunity. “Dude, where do you think all those parts are going to rain down if those missiles hit!” I screamed.
He pulled his gaze away to look at me, the light of recognition dawned. “We’ve got to go!” he yelled like it was his idea.
Spindler was half in and half out of the shed. “We’re leaving, Spindler. I’ll shoot you if I have to,” I yelled at him. We were three quarters across the compound when the percussion from the missile impact threw us all to the ground. Been a long time since I ate dirt, now I remembered why it wasn’t on my diet.
A large green hand wrapped around my arm and jerked me to my feet.
“Miss me?” Dee asked, smiling.
Brian was scrambling, trying to get his rifle up from under him.
“Whoa-whoa, he’s with me!” I shouted to Brian. “He’s the friend I was telling you about.”
“Michael, I think your use of English is not as good as you presume it to be. I believe it would be more correct to say that you are with me,” Drababan said.
“You should have been a New Yorker, Dee. They always tend to take their sarcasm too far. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Spindler had passed out or been knocked out when he struck the ground, Dee grabbed him around the belt and hoisted him up as if he weighed no more than a gallon of milk.
Molten metal showered around us. More than one guard was crushed under the twisted metal. We were rapidly moving away from the carnage but still bits would come uncomfortably close to us.
“We must hurry, Michael!” Dee said running in half strides. Brian was barely keeping up with him at full speed and I was hanging back a bit trying to urge an older couple on, a young woman and two boys were half way between me and Dee. “The remaining fighters are preparing to launch bombs!”
Even order-less Genogerian guards must have had the ability for self-preservation, they scattered in every direction. I heard multiple firearms begin to chatter away as the guards came into the opposing fields of fire. I had a good idea who it was and I would thank him eternally when I got back to the Hill.
“Come on!” I urged the couple for the third time.
“Can’t… make… it,” the man said clutching his side. “Go, Gloria,” he said to his wife.
“I’d rather… die here with… you, Vern,” she panted out. “Young man… go,” Gloria told me.
“Alright, Mrs. Banks.” Vern heaved. “It’s me and you.” He smiled.
Shit. I was stuck, there wasn’t much I could do to urge them on, and to stay
was my death too. Dee once again saved the day, he came back, threw Spindler over his shoulder like he was a sack of flour, dropped his rifle and reached down to grab the couple. They shrank away at first, but I told them that I was with him and it would be alright. Dee nodded at me.
He wrapped his powerful arms around their mid-sections, somehow tenderly not making pudding out of their innards and turned and began to run again. The added weight slowed him down a bit, but I still was struggling to keep up. The unmistakable sound of a massive projectile falling through the sky helped me to find a faster gear. I grabbed the running woman’s arm and we moved as fast as we could.
Dee had caught up to the two boys and Brian, who was busy using the barrel of his rifle to pry open a storm drain. Dee quickly put Spindler down and stuck a claw into an opening and ripped the heavy metal circle from its resting place. My fillings were beginning to vibrate from the humming of the bomb. Brian went down the hole first. Dee unceremoniously dropped Spindler in and then gently eased the older woman and man down. His rapid come-hither movements with his arm were an unnecessary incentive for me and the girl to get moving. We were close to salvation when the ground bounced. We were sent a good two feet into the air from the impact of the alien detonation, the only thing that saved us was the vibration propelling us forward. Dee grabbed us mid flight and like he was dunking a basketball, threw us into the hole.
I had the presence of mind to wonder what the good of this maneuver was; as soon as his giant ass came down he would crush us. Dee’s huge arms came within inches of the side of my face as he fell through the hole. He was snout to nose with me and I couldn’t even begin to describe how uncomfortable a feeling that was.
I would have made some quip, but the explosion sucked all the air from my lungs, so much so I thought perhaps Dee had landed on me after all. Dee was being pulled up from the back blast, I anchored myself and grabbed his arm although I didn’t know what my weight was going to do to help. Brian dove from the far wall and jumped onto Dee’s back, I didn't know if it would help or not, in the end it seemed that the accumulated weight had the desired effect however it still left his massive jaw directly in front of me.
A small fact I had not known up until that time, without air, there is no sound. I was aware that the woman next to me was in a full throated scream when we headed down the shaft but that was cut off the moment Dee landed. Who knew—it was probably me screaming but it’s much easier to write it this way after I’ve had some time to look at it subjectively.
As air rushed back in to fill the void, the woman next to me once again had fuel for her lungs.
“Are you hurt?” I yelled, trying to get through her shock.
She kept going for a few seconds more before she began to shake her head from side to side. “I don’t… th-think so,” she said hesitantly as she sat up.
“Everybody else?” I asked with a general question.
“Thank you,” Dee told Brian as he half stood up in the small enclosure.
Spindler was still out cold. The old man was rubbing a growing knot on the top of his head, but seemed no worse for wear; his wife was looking over him cautiously. One of the two boys just kept touching Dee’s legs.
“He doesn’t feel fishy,” the one with darker hair told his friend.
“His arm is bent funny,” the other said, looking down at Spindler.
“Aw crap, it’s broken, he’s going to blame me for this,” I said, standing up.
“I tried to catch him,” Brian said, but the bomb knocked me off my feet. Missed him by about a foot.
“Are you a dragon?” the first boy asked Dee, still rubbing his leg. “You feel like you got scales.”
“We need to splint his arm before we get moving again,” I said, looking in some of the debris in the drain that would be straight and strong enough.
“Where exactly are we going?” Gloria asked.
“The only place we can,” I answered her vaguely. I found a piece of wood that suspiciously looked like in a previous life it had been part of a cane. I ignored that.
Brian took his shirt off and was ripping it into strips so I would have something to tie the splint with.
“Would you rather I set it?” Dee asked. “Or wait until we get back and your surgeons can do it?”
“There are no such things as dragon doctors,” the first boy said.
“You look tasty,” Dee said to the small boy. The kid was not deterred.
“Please don’t eat my brother, mister,” the older boy said to Drababan. “He’s all the family I have left.” A small tear formed in his eye.
“He was kidding,” I said to the boy. “Tell him you were kidding, Dee.”
Dee was still looking down at the small boy who was now trying to pinch Dee’s calf.
“Can you fly?” the small boy asked.
“No, but I chew real well,” Dee said making sure to flash all his teeth. I thought the old woman was going to swoon.
“Kid, what’s your name?” I asked the older brother.
“Blake,” he responded, never taking his eyes off of Dee.
“Blake, could you please get your brother away from my friend?” I asked.
“He’s… he’s your friend?” Blake asked, shuffling slowly forward to get his brother.
“It really gets old trying to explain this, but yes, he saved my life. Of course, just before that he was trying to kill me, but then he saved me.”
“That doesn’t make much sense, mister,” Blake said, finally grabbing his brother by the arm.
“None of it really does."
The boy looked at me like grown-ups were just about the weirdest thing on the planet. Besides the Genogerians and the Progerians, I guess we were.
"What's your brother's name?" I asked Blake, his impish brother was pinching Dee's calf.
"Jeffrey." Blake answered.
No sound could be heard topside and except for the occasional heavy breathing and moans from Spindler not much was happening down here, either. Dee and I were busy hastily fixing Spindler’s broken wing before he came to. Brian had ascended the stairs to check out what was going on topside.
“Holy shit, everything’s gone.”
I paused to look up at him. He was a shadow framed by a blazing sun.
“Not as bad as the city devastations. About five hundred yards across has been leveled,” he continued.
“I hope Dennis is alright,” I added.
“He shot the missiles?” Dee asked as he carefully realigned the bones in Spindler’s arm.
“Yes. You’re pretty good at that,” I told him.
“I practiced on myself,” he answered, never stopping what he was doing.
I didn’t ask for elaboration, I didn’t want to know.
“I see movement on the far side. Can’t tell who or what it is,” Brian said as he prudently came back down the ladder a few rungs.
“How far past our hiding spot do we need to get before we get back under cover?” I asked Brian.
There were still two fighters out there and my guess was that they had nothing better to do than to look for survivors and eradicate that problem.
“At least a hundred yards,” Brian stated, realizing how difficult a journey that was going to be.
I looked to the pipes that led away from this collection point. I had no idea where they went and the biggest wasn’t much more than sixteen inches in diameter. The boys would fit if they crawled. Even if I thought I could fit, I would have not gone because Dee would not be able to get in. At least that’s what I told myself—you can add claustrophobia to my list of idiosyncrasies.
“He’s waking,” Dee said. There was some bone on bone grinding as Dee moved Spindler's arm about and then the best way I can describe it there was a ‘click’ like two Lego’s being snapped into place. “Apply the splint, Michael,” Dee said, making sure to keep Spindler’s arm still.
Spindler’s head was moving slightly from side to side. I could tell he was struggling to come up from t
he depths of unconsciousness.
I had no sooner tied the last knot holding the splint in place when Spindler’s eyes fluttered open. I’m not sure who he was more chagrined to have staring over him, me or Dee. I could see the scream forming on his lips.
“Your arm is broken. My big friend here has set it and we’ve splinted it. You’re fine for now.”
He saved us all a lot of trouble by passing out again.
“That was fortuitous,” Dee said looking over at me.
“You’re really getting good at this,” I told him.
Brian was staring straight up. “Those fighters are still lurking around.”
“Dammit, Dee, any idea how long they’ll stay?”
“Not long, they are arrogant enough to think nothing could have survived.”
“Probably because nothing usually does,” the old man said.
I could only nod in agreement.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE - Mike Journal Entry 20
The fighters were out of sight within a half an hour. We waited a solid hour before emerging from the ground like reborn mole men. Dirty and bruised, we made our way across what was once considered the center of Dedham and which had now been reduced to something akin to a 1920s Kansas dust bowl scene.
Jeffrey rode atop Dee’s broad shoulders, barely able to spread his legs far enough apart to get them around his neck. “I can see everything up here!” Jeffrey exclaimed excitedly.
"Shush." I said to Jeffrey, he paid me absolutely no attention as he figured correctly that I couldn't reach him from where I stood.
His brother looked slightly jealous, but his fear of Dee would not allow him to ask for the ride his brother had begged for.
“Hey, Dee, looks like there is plenty of room up there.” I said.
“Michael, I have already told you that I am not carrying you on my shoulders,” Dee replied.
Spindler had finally awakened and screamed until Dee put him down. Can’t say I blame him, either. Dee had been carrying him like a football, tucked up under his arm.
Spindler was pale with pain, but surprisingly he never complained. I guess he figured if he bitched, Dee would just start carrying him again whether he wanted to be or not.
