by Tim Miller
"Stop right there soldier boy!" one of them yelled. "I got my rifle pointed right at the back of your head. You're going to get in that Humvee and turn this mess around right now! Or things are going to get ugly."
Chapter 20
Kate skipped through town enjoying the mayhem. Occasionally, someone would resist or try to shoot at them, but they were quickly and easily disposed of. She was enjoying her new trick. She'd turned at least fifteen more clowns from her pussy juice. Kate had no idea such a thing was possible. She also had no idea having so many orgasms in such a short time was possible. Even Mad Maxwell wasn't sure what to make of it. When he watched her turn one poor guy, she couldn't tell if Maxwell was impressed or terrified at her abilities altogether.
Looking down the street, a caravan of military vehicles came rolling into town.
"Look, Maxie, the Army is here!" she said.
"Oh yes. The Army. They have no idea what they are getting into. I'm surprised Jericho hasn't sent a band of goons in yet. They're usually on top of things when we clowns are involved."
"Oh, Jericho Goons! Sounds so scary!"
"Nothing to worry about my dear. As you know, I've handled Jericho many times before."
"Maybe I'll sit on their faces! That could be fun!"
Mad Maxwell rolled his eyes.
"Yes, that would be wonderful," he said.
There was an explosion ahead as smoke rose from a building. They reached a sporting goods store with the windows busted out.
"I think I'm going to find something to change into," Maxwell said. "This prison jumpsuit is a big stuffy." He walked inside as Kate stood on the sidewalk taking everything in. People were screaming in every direction. One of her tiny clowns was on the roof of a car that sped by, swerving in all directions before hitting a utility pole. The driver flew through the windshield and onto the hood where the little clown jumped down and began gnawing on the diver's face.
Mad Maxwell emerged from the store looking much different. He had on a purple hoodie, a pair of jeans and was carrying a baseball bat with several spikes through it. He also had on a pair of purple batting gloves.
"Where did you find a bat like that?"
"Oh, it's just a normal bat. I made some of my special modifications. This all feels much more comfortable." He said.
While she wasn't afraid of Mad Maxwell, in his new clothes, he looked even more terrifying.
"At least now I can join in on the festivities," he said while giving the bat a swing. "Yeah, this should be fun." He ran across the street where a man and his wife were trying to get into a building. Maxwell swung the bat and planted a spike into the top of the man's skull. The woman screamed as the man's body slumped to the ground, but the spike was caught in his head. Maxwell put his foot on the man's head as he pulled trying to work the bat free.
It finally came free as the women continued screaming.
"Shut up already!" he yelled as he smashed her in the face, the spike going through her forehead. The blow silenced her for good as the bat came free more easily this time. He looked at Kate and nodded.
"I guess it works a little too well," he said.
"That was cool Maxie. Too bad you killed him. I could have turned him too!"
"Why don't you turn some more girls? We could use more girl clowns."
"I don't want another girl! Why? You tired of me already?"
"Never my darling. Just thought you could use some lady-friends. You know, girl chat, slumber parties and such."
"Oh no. That's all lamo! This is a real party!"
Before he could reply, the sound of helicopters boomed from overhead. Looking up there was a fleet of them heading toward Odessa. Kate counted at least ten of them.
"Is that the Jericho guys?" she asked.
"It appears so. I guess they aren't messing around this time."
"What should we do?"
"Simple! Make more clowns!"
They both laughed as they ran down the street and into a residential neighborhood. They went from house to house; Maxwell would attack the families in each home as Kate proceeded to sit on their faces until she was satisfied. This time it didn't matter who it was. Men, women, children and even elderly folks. By the time they were done along the street, there were clowns of all ages and sizes. One elderly woman clown hobbled around with her walker.
When they reached the last house, a man stood on the porch with a shotgun, opening fire on the clowns. Before either of them could react, the old clown came running up, her walker over her head and bashed the man over the head with her walker. The man went down as he dropped the shotgun while the old clown was descending on him, tearing him to shreds. Overhead, the helicopters were getting closer. One was coming in to land just behind some houses. Mad Maxwell began walking in that direction.
"Where ya going, Maxie?"
"I'm going to welcome our friends!"
Chapter 21
Nolan looked out the window at what appeared to be World War 3 happening before his eyes. There were gunfights and explosions along with so many clowns running around tearing people apart. He hadn't counted inside the convention center, but it would appear there were dozens of clowns now. Were they turning people into clowns? A few were wearing police uniforms. That was simply unsettling.
He'd seen a caravan of Army vehicles roll in earlier but no movement from them since other than increased gunfire as some random soldiers ran around shooting. Before long, he saw clowns dressed as soldiers. Sitting around in this hotel waiting for the clowns to come after them wasn't his first choice either. Part of him was still fuming that Damien insisted on staying instead of getting them both to the Midland airport. Nolan walked away from the main door and down the hallway. From there he looked out the window from the back door.
In the parking lot, there was a pickup truck with the engine running. The driver was hanging dead half out of the cab with his head split open. The truck was only maybe twenty feet from the door. Looking around as best he could, there were no clowns in the immediate area. It was time to make another run for it. It worked for him last time. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes, counted to three and burst through the door.
He reached the truck without incident. The hard part would be moving the driver's body. He grabbed a leg and pulled, but the man was heavy and barely budged. Using both hands to grab each leg, he pulled them both until the man's body flipped backward out of the cab. There was blood all over the inside, but he had to tune that out. Closing the door he put the truck in drive and sped out of the parking lot.
He wasn't far down the road when a group of clowns was in the middle of the road chasing a woman around. She was screaming as they took turns ripping her clothes from her. Nolan wasn't sure what to do as he couldn't go back the other way. Instead he stomped on the gas and sped up crashing into the two clowns. One went airborne, flipping through the air and landing off to the side. The smaller one exploded as the truck struck him head on. The woman fell to the ground as Nolan kept speeding by. In his rearview mirror he saw her sitting there looking around. The clown who had flown through the air, slowly began moving.
His first thought was to keep going, but instead he stepped on the brakes and threw the truck into reverse. He stopped next to the woman and opened the passenger door as the clown was making its way to its feet near the driver's side.
"Come on!" Nolan said. "Get in!"
The woman climbed in and closed the door as he pulled forward and backed over the clown. He put it in drive and ran over the clown again as he sped away.
"Hi," he said. "I'm Nolan."
"Hey. I'm Debra. Thank you."
"Sure. Those things are fucking evil," Nolan said.
"So where are we going?"
"As far away from here as possible."
He looked over at Debra, who was holding the rags that used to be her shirt over her body. Besides that, she only had on a pair of panties and some tennis shoes. She was around his age and was probably quite attractive w
hen not having just been assaulted by a group of evil clowns. At the moment, her hair was sticking out all over, and her face looked like she'd been beaten.
"Are you ok?" he asked. "Looks like they did a number on you."
"I'll live if that's what you mean."
"Just be glad they didn't rape you. I've seen that happen. It's pretty hideous, and you'd be dead."
"What are those things?"
"All I know is, they're clowns and not human. Beyond that, I have no idea. They took over the horror convention at the convention center. I saw them rape a bunch of women and minutes later baby clowns came ripping their way out of the women's stomachs."
"Jesus Christ."
"Yeah. It's pretty fucked up."
"What do they want?"
"I don't know. They're clowns. They seem pretty content just causing mayhem."
They drove in silence as a group of helicopters began flying overhead. One of the helicopters began to set down on the road about a hundred feet in front of them.
"Oh no. What the fuck?" he asked. He wasn't sure if they were Army or what. They were black and had no markings. They looked like Blackhawk helicopters from what he'd seen on TV. He pulled the truck to a stop as several men dressed in tactical gear jumped out. They all wore helmets, dark goggles and wore large packs. They surrounded the pickup and ordered them both out. They did as they were ordered, Nolan had his hands up, but Debra continued hugging her shirt to her body.
"Any clowns in your vehicle?" one of the men asked.
"No, there's a bunch just down the road. I ran a couple over. We're headed to Midland to get out of here. To the airport."
"Negative, the town is quarantined." The man said.
"Quarantined? Why?"
"Some of the clowns may be carrying a deadly virus. No one leaves until we get them contained."
"Bullshit. You can't keep us here." Nolan opened the door to the truck, but the man grabbed him and threw him to the ground. Before he could get to his feet, the man pointed his gun at the truck, and that's when Nolan realized it wasn't a gun at all. It was a flamethrower. A long plume of fire came from the weapon, consuming the pickup. Nolan sat by and watched the truck vanish in flames, along with his hope of escape.
Chapter 22
"You're making a mistake fellas," Col. Goldbrick said. "We're here to help. No one wants to take over your town except for these clowns, whoever they are."
"You just shut the hell up and put your sidearm there on the ground," one of the men said.
"Don't move!" A voice called out. Looking up ahead, several of Goldbrick's rangers were walking toward them with their rifles pointed at the men. This was turning into a standoff that was not going to end well.
"You don't move or your Colonel is dead!" one of the men called out.
"I'm going to count to three," the Ranger sergeant said. "If you don't stand down, we will open fire. One! Two!"
Just as he said two, Goldbrick closed his eyes and dropped to the ground. The sergeant yelled "Three!" as gunfire erupted around him. He rolled to his right underneath the Humvee as bodies fell around him. In a matter of seconds, it was over. A pair of boots walked up to the Humvee as the man knelt down. It was the sergeant.
"You ok Colonel? All clear."
Goldbrick climbed out from under the Humvee and got to his feet. There were several dead men lying around with rifles next to them. Goldbrick shook his head. It was unfortunate, but no amount of spending weekend playing soldier and shooting beer cans would prepare someone for one of his Army Rangers. They were professional soldiers, the best in the world. Only problem was, now they just had a U.S. Army engagement of United States citizens on American soil. He didn't even want to begin to think how he'd explain all this.
Before he could think any further, a shot rang out as blood sprayed from the sergeant's neck while the man collapsed. Another shot went out as Goldbrick climbed back into the Humvee and stepped on the gas. The shots were coming from a building. These kooks had a sniper in place. He only got a block or two down the road as a group of small clowns ran out into the road. He swerved to avoid them but drove right over two of them.
This was the closest he'd seen the clowns. Their faces looked twisted and mutated. Not like any clowns he'd ever seen. It was as if those were their actual faces and not just makeup. What the hell was going on? He turned around and drove over the other two clowns. This time he stopped and got out, holding his pistol at the ready and examined the creatures. Most of their heads had been run over; to it was hard to make out their faces.
Just down the street, he heard more gunfire, screaming and even an explosion. His Rangers had also made contact. Hopefully, they were wiping these things out. He climbed back into the Humvee and drove toward the firefight. As he rounded the block, he wasn't prepared for what he saw. Bodies of his Rangers were lying throughout the street. Clowns were pulling the heads off some of the bodies. One group of Rangers was running away and firing while a pair of clowns closed in on them. In a few quick steps, the clowns were on the men's backs. One tore the soldier's head off as if it was picking up a bowling ball.
"Mother of God," Goldbrick said as he backed up and turned the Humvee around. The rest of his men were in another part of town, hopefully faring better. He didn't count the bodies, but there were close to a hundred. The clowns had torn through them as if they were rag dolls. What was worse, being shot didn't even seem to bother them.
Just overhead a fleet of Blackhawk helicopters came flying in. These weren't his. They were black and unmarked. One touched town at a parking lot a block ahead. He pulled over and watched as a group of men in black tactical gear came filing out. A group of clowns ran up to the men, but the men sprayed them with flamethrowers. The clowns were engulfed in plumes of fire and fell to the ground as the soldiers continued advancing. They made their way down the street. It wasn't long before they were coming up on Goldbrick and his Humvee. He decided to see who these guys worked for. They obviously knew how to handle the clowns.
He climbed out of the vehicle as the men approached. He put his hands in the air as they approached. One of the men stopped a few feet in front of him.
"Identify yourself," the man said.
"Colonel Hal Goldbrick. United States Army. We were doing exercises nearby when we saw an explosion. Who are you guys?"
"Private security," the man said.
"Who do you work for? You guys have military gear and operating on U.S. soil. You mercenaries? You guys from Blackstone?"
Blackstone was a private security company who had been hired by the government to send civilian operatives to Iraq and Afghanistan. They were known for not following or even having any rules of engagement. They'd been quiet in recent years, but no telling what they'd been up to. This whole thing was too far out there even for Goldbrick to handle.
"That is irrelevant. How many of you are there?" the man asked again.
"I'm not telling you that. Not sure what you think you're doing, but you don't hold an Army colonel at gun point. Now I'm going to lower my arms. Who is your commanding officer? Or who is in charge? Let me speak to them."
"Negative Colonel. Stay right where you are. I'd suggest you get in your Humvee and turn around. Pretend like you were never here and never saw us."
"Or what? Who are you guys? I've lost men here. I'm not turning around and leaving. These fucking weird ass clowns are all over. You guys seem to know how to take them out. We can help each other."
"Negative," the man said. "We work alone. So you're not leaving then?"
"No, I'm not. I'll just follow along behind you guys and see if I can find any of my men who survived."
"Can't do that Colonel, sorry," the man said as he squeezed the trigger on his flamethrower. Before Goldbrick could react he was covered in fire. During his lifetime, he'd been outside in extreme heat. He'd burned his hand on a grill and even walked on hot coals once as a dare. None of those things compared to the pain he felt now with fire licking his skin along h
is face, hands, arms and back.
He fell to the ground and tried to roll out the flames, but it did no good. Flesh on his face and neck popped and sizzled. He wanted to throw up as the smell of his own burning skin hit his nose. The heat on his head was unbearable. He wanted just to go to sleep and not feel anymore. That became easier as his eyeballs each burst from inside his skull. Everything was black as he felt the fluid from his eyes sizzling along his cheeks. Thankfully, his mind went shortly after his vision. Colonel Goldbrick was K.I.A.
Chapter 23
Kate stood next to Maxwell as they watched the helicopter land.
"Wait until they get out," Maxwell said, but Kate wasn't about to just stand there while these Jericho mercenaries got comfortable. She took off at a dead run and with her speed, was inside the helicopter in a matter of seconds. She ripped one of the men's Adam's apple right from his throat. Blood sprayed inside the helicopter as the other men struggled. One fired the flamethrower next to her head, but missed, igniting one of his fellow mercenaries.
Kate pushed the man in flames out of the helicopter as the aircraft began taking off again. Soon they were hundreds of feet in the air. She heard someone laughing as she threw another mercenary out, watching him fall to his death. Just beneath her, Maxwell had grabbed on to the edge of the helicopter and was pulling himself up. She pulled him the rest of the way in when he promptly kicked another mercenary out of the aircraft.
Another one pointed his flamethrower at her, but she punched him and removed it from his back before throwing him out. Soon it was just the two of them in the back of the helicopter. Kate walked to the front, now with the flamethrower on her back and leaned into the pilot.
"Hey sweetie!" she said. The pilot looked at her in horror as she stood over him. "Take us back to downtown ok? If not I'll have to set you on fire. I'm not worried about crashing. The crash won't kill me. Thank you, dear!" The pilot nodded quickly as she turned and winked at Mad Maxwell. Within a few minutes, they had arrived downtown. There were several groups of mercenaries marching through town firing flamethrowers at clowns and anyone else that got in their way. Buildings and cars nearby were on fire as the men advanced.
