Zero floored it, the tires burning a hot smoke as the powerful V8 thundered in his Charger. Then just as quickly, he slammed on the breaks, screeching echoing off the buildings. At this intersection, he could turn right, head home and forget about it. “No, I feel the obligation, the obligation for acceleration!” Zero spun the wheel left, and headed to destiny.
The Charger purred like a tiger cat on the prowl, and Zero looked for his first stop. It had only been a week since the signal came down, and the unmasking of the prune faces everywhere. Chaos reigned, and now They were trying to retake control. They were gathering downtown, and somebody needed to stop them.
The Charger glided down the asphalt like butter on warm banana bread, and Zero pulled off into Danny’s Surplus. He would get what he needed here. He slid out the door, and strode in like a colossus, “Its the apportioned hour!”
Danny, behind the counter, replied, “Well, say hello to my small number of acquaintances.”
Zero looked over them, for some reason Danny called his large number of firearms his friends, which confused Zero. No matter, he would make his selections. Two Beretta M9’s, one A300 Tactical and a AC-556 lay before him, chosen to clean the streets. But something was missing.
“Dan Boy, you got to have more!”
“I have more, and don’t call me Dan Boy.”
Danny led Zero to the back, and pulled a switch. A wall opened, and the choirs of angels belted out their voices to heaven.
“If it fires bullets, I will take it.”
Danny pulled the M60 off the rack, and set it before Zero. Two duffel bags filled with bullets joined them, and Danny totaled it up on his cash register. “Cash, check or charge?”
Zero looked at the price, “I’ll return.” He walked out to his car, grabbed his check book, and wrote it for the full amount. Then he collected his instruments and once again the Charger roared to life. A burn of rubber, and he was on his way to destiny.
Zero spotted them down the street, already forming up in ranks to march down the pavement. He prepared himself, a word to God for his aim to be true, and he put on his aviators. He revved the Charger, and pressed the pedal all the way down. The lion of the V8 roared in the concrete jungle, and Zero spun the wheel. The Charger spun and drifted right up to the crowd of prune faces, causing them to jump back.
Zero sprung out of his chariot, folded down his seat, and removed the M60. “I’ve come here kick ass and chew Big League Chew, and I’m all out of Big League.” The prune faces stood bewildered, and then the gun spoke.
Fire poured out of its barrel, spraying death into the prune faces. He stitched a weave of slaughter amongst them, cutting down the invaders with as much precision as the commandos ever could. Zero artfully avoided striking down humans, cleaving two prune faces who tried to take a woman and her baby as a shield. His bullets cut their foul flesh, leaving her and her child unharmed. “If you shoot them, they will go.” She nodded, and ran for safety.
Zero turned his attention back to the prune faces. After scything down dozens of them, the rest started to draw guns and started to shoot back. He laughed, and the M60 spat again, death screaming out of it to claim the enemies of America.
Two of the prunes emerged out of alley, and tried to jump Zero, and take the M60 away from him. He laughed and struck one of them with his fist in the mouth, putting the creature on the ground. The other tried to bite him with its ugly jaws, clamping down around his forearm. He spun around, and the prune dropped off, and bounced up to face Zero, who pulled one of his pistols out. “Yip pie-ki-aye, alien scum!” Zero pulled the trigger, and the prune dropped.
He holstered the pistol immediately, and with the M60 free, resumed his work. The prunes were not good shots, and more of them died with each pass, but Zero began to feel exposed. There were more prunes here than he anticipated. More were pouring out of the buildings nearby, and he was nearly out of ammo for the M60. It would be time to switch to a smaller weapon.
He dropped the M60, and took up the rifle. He shouldered the bags with the rest of the ammo, and advanced. The prunes didn’t learn, their ricochets coming near him, but each shot of his claimed another of them. Zero spun behind vehicles and into doorways to reload. Many of the shops were infested with prunes, and Zero had to duck and weave to avoid their ferocious attacks. Those who got too close he stunned them with a chop to the throat, or a strike to the knee, and finished it with a pistol or rifle shot.
The sun touched the horizon when the street was finally clear of them. Their corpses were stacked like cordwood, their black blood clogging the storm sewers. Before him lay the news station, their stronghold. The rest would be inside, waiting for him.
Zero calmly walked to the doors, and checked his rifle. He had less than two clips left, so he readied his shotgun. Plenty of shells for the work ahead.
He pushed open the door with the rifle barrel, to three prunes standing before him. The two on the sides rushed forward, and Zero dispatched them with two shots a piece. The third, a towering hulking beast, stood with a Bowie knife drawn, smiling. Zero grinned back, “Have you ever danced with a demon by the bright sunlight?”
The creature looked confused, and Zero shot him in the forehead. It landed on the ground with a thud. He moved past the corpses, and into the general foyer of the building. They were waiting. A hail of gunfire enveloped Zero, the bullets cutting holes in his clothing as they whistled to strike the glass behind him. After a volley, they stopped, and Zero stood tall, “Go ahead, make my afternoon.”
He heard them change their magazines, and Zero struck back. He fired short bursts of rounds, claiming a creature with each, until the rifle was dry. He then swung the A300, and resumed his work. Click Click Boom. Click Click Boom. Click Click Boom.
A prune rushed him, trying to close the distance. Zero took it center mass, the rag-doll flying backward with the strike of the shotgun’s blast. More entered the room, more than Zero ever thought infested his fair city. He fired and fired, ducked down behind the front desk’s granite top to reload and to wait out their return volleys.
Zero crawled to the elevator, deciding that he needed to cut the head off first. Time to head to the top. He pressed the call button, and the door opened, with a clip board carrying prune cowering inside. "Excuse me, is that your chin, or did an F-150 park on your face?" It tried to run away, but as the elevator doors closed he swung the A300 over his shoulders and took in it down with one blast.
The elevator climbed the stories quickly after Zero pressed the button for the top. The doors opened, and Zero exited. He proceeded down a corridor, and turned the corner quickly, running into a blonde woman, who threw the papers she was carrying up into the air. She startled Zero, and he slipped backward. Before he could get up, doors on each side of the hall opened, and many prunes came out, and pummeled Zero as he lay prone.
****
Zero found himself tied to a chair, his arms bound, and his mouth gagged. Blood ran down from a cut on his forehead, and his shirt had been completely destroyed in the scuffle. The room was pitch black, except for a line on the floor in front of him.
He strained against the bonds, flexing his muscles to loosen the rope. He could feel that they missed his second pistol, placed inside his ankle holster. Zero struggled, the ties burning his skin, until he heard voices outside, and then the door opened.
A prune entered, along with a human man. The prune grimaced, and the man walked over to Zero and loosened the gag. “No need to keep this on, nobody is coming for you.”
The prune grabbed a chair, flipped it around and sat with the back to the side, leaning against it. “Quite a lot of trouble you caused.”
Zero spit out blood, “They can bill me.”
The man laughed, and the prune looked worried. “Why did you do it? What did you think you would accomplish other than ruining your life? You think your way of life is worth it?”
Zero smirked, “Prune… your Mickey Mouse is one big stupid DOPE!”
The prune shook its head, clearing not understanding. “Well, with that there isn’t much to do. I’d say its been nice, but you don’t have many moments left.”
Zero let a trickle of a smile out, "All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain, time for you to die." The prune looked confused again, and then Zero flexed once more. There was then just enough room to drop the bonds, and he reached in one quick motion for his holdout. The pistol was out before either of the others could react. He pulled the trigger.
Zero stood and leveled the gun at the man. He held up his hands, clearly not wanting to fight, “I’m not messing with the bull, I don’t want to get the horns!” Zero motioned for the man to lead him out, and they headed out of the dark office, and down the unlit hall.
Zero looked around for roof access, and didn’t find it. “Take me to the choppah!” He instructed the man, and he quickly led him to the stairs. It was time to go.
Up and up they went, two more floors until they reached the door that said roof access. The man opened it, and there was the news chopper sitting there, ready to fly.
The man dropped to his knees, and clasped his hands together, “Please, please man, take me with you. I have been trapped here since the signal came down. They...they are all running scared. Some of them want to fight humans openly, some want to leave, others think that they just take over. I don’t wanna be here when it all goes down. You gotta take me man!”
Zero shook his head, “Dead or alive, you aren’t coming with me.” With that, Zero got in the chopper, and took off.
He cruised low through the buildings, to confuse and evade any who were following him. Below, he could see other proud Americans dismantling the barricades and taking out the prune trash. His heart swelled with satisfaction that he wasn’t alone in deciding to clean up the streets.
“I’m never getting too old for this shit.”
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We gotta get the Charger back. It's not over by a long shot.
Jim
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Of course not. Like any great 80's action hero, his car is family. And nothing is badass like the Charger. A 90's sequel is in order definitely.
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One man army.
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Yes, in the spirit of nada, matrix, and all those 80's action heroes we all love. Thanks for reading
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Hello Victor,
This is obviously an amazing writeup. I can tell you've put a lot of efforts into this. Fantastic!
Have you been able publish any book?
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