Episode 10

As Snipe drove our truck, I racked my brain for spider knowledge. Speaking out loud as the facts surfaced. Being best friends and having performed together for so long, I was able to talk in short hand.

“Multi-faceted eyes, nearly impossible to sneak up on.”

“Great strength, RV’s too big, but could probably left the truck.”

“Super fast, but you already saw that.”

“They can sense things through the hairs on their legs and body.”

“Exoskeleton, the ‘skin’ is its skeleton. Cut it enough and it will bleed out. No clotting ability.”

Snipe spoke up, “We have already ran into two kinds of spiders what if we find others?”

“The info I just went through is the basics for all kinds. The difference will be their mode of attack and whether they are poisonous or not.” I answered.

“What kinds can we expect to find?” He asked

“That’s impossible to say,” I said. “ The two species we have already encountered aren’t indigenous and should not be here.”

“What kind would normally inhabit the area?” Snipe continued his recon of my brain.

He has known me long enough to know that asking me questions is the best way to get the Manic part of my brain to kick into overtime. He was all business now. The joking and kidding were gone. I searched the files of my mind, “Wolf Spiders. Daddy Long Legs, fangs are too small to bite at normal size. No idea if a giant size could bite. They also attack Black Widows. Oh, Black Windows, usually like dark warm places, very tough webs, they eat their old webs to make a new one.”

I kept rattling off facts as they came to me. “Daddy Long Legs don’t eat their webs that’s why they are so messy around a house. Wolf Spiders are aggressive their bite causes swelling like an ant sting at normal size, probably worse with a giant size, allergic reaction would probably kill.”

When I was on a manic roll, the info came rolling out in a ping pong mish mash. No particular order, bouncing around from one subject to another then back again.

Snipe knows the manic me and can keep up. He also knows of the down sides of my Bi-polar powers.

Bi-polar disorder used to be called Manic Depressive. A simplified description is an energy drink. If a person drinks an energy drink they get a burst of energy and can go beyond the norm, but afterwards they crash and are exhausted.

Another way of seeing it is like a spinning top. A spinning top that flies fast and smooth. As it gains speed it can conquer anything in its path, but at some point, it spins so fast that it loses controls and crashes.

Snipe has been with me when I have spun fast and created great things. He has also been there for me when I crashed and tried to jump off this ride we call life. Some people live their entire life without ever finding such a friend. I am blessed.

Now, I don’t bring this up to have people feel sorry for me, but to let them know I don’t have any cool super powers of the mind. Being manic does have it’s advantages, but it sometimes makes you do stupid things you regret later. Later, when you have crashed, and are depressed, the stupid things that the ‘manic’ you did, or said, keep bouncing in your brain as you plan ways to kill yourself.

Manic also means you get self-absorbed and wonder way off subject.

Spiders.

I kept talking, ”Wondering.” I paused to help Snipe know I was switching gears. “If spiders have become super sized, what’s to say other insects haven’t also?”

“Such as?” Snipe asked.

“In the forest there are hundreds of type of beetles, some with huge mandibles that if giant sized, would make that Trap Door Spider look like a cute little puppy. Carpenter Ants which are huge for an ant. Velvety Tree ants, aggressive biter. Fire Ants, painful sting that causes pustules.”

Suddenly, in front of us Scott and Kathy’s truck slid sideways across the road as smoke rose from the brakes of their truck and trailer.

Snipe slammed on the brakes and we skidded to halt just inches before striking the trailer.

I braced for impact, just knowing that there was no way Robert could stop the RV in time.

The impact never came.

I looked through the back window of the truck to see Robert behind the wheel of his huge RV, a big smile spread across his face.

I should have known anybody who could navigate that huge land yacht through a small Faire site could make it stop on a dime.

As I looked at Robert I saw the smile on his face disappear only to be replaced by a look of astonishment.

We turned and looked out the front of the truck.

The toy hauler was no longer attached to the Hardwick’s vehicle.

It was now held high above the Highway in the front legs of a humongous creature that looked like a great big, very fat, ant. It came equipped with some large, nasty looking mandibles and a mondo sized stinger.

“What the?” Snipe nearly shouted.

Still in information mode, I answered as a matter of fact, “Jerusalem Cricket, very powerful, extremely aggressive.”

Snipe and I jumped out of the Sonoma.

Everyone else piled out of their vehicles too.

The huge Jerusalem Cricket flung the toy hauler to the ground. The trailer burst open at the seams on impact.

“Oh, HELL no!” Scott said. He stood tall, and with a pistol in each hand, walked straight at the humungous insect.

“Honey, be careful.” Kathy called out in a calm voice.

The voice she used sounded out of place. It had a June Cleaver tone to it. “Ward, you need to talk to the Beaver, Take out the trash, and by the way, giant monsters from hell just ate Eddie Haskell.”

Robert yelled out, “It’s a giant Potato Bug!”

Snipe looked at me questioningly, “ I thought you said it was a Jerusalem Cricket.”

“It’s the same thing.” I shouted.

“It doesn’t look like a potato.” Snipe quipped.

“It’s just a name!” I said as I too started firing my weapon at the Beast.

The creatures exoskeleton was extremely thick and the shot gun pellets just seemed to bounce off.

Snipe steadied his rifle on the hood of our truck, “I mean it doesn’t even look like a cricket.”

The rounds from Robert and the ladies weapons were a little more effective than those of my shot gun. Fractures could be seen forming on the Bug’s “skin.”

Kathy used the hood of her truck for cover as she unloaded her 45’s on the creature that was now threatening her husband. They did little but annoy the creature.

The sound of Trey’s SKS, rumbled like thunder through the mountains. The 7.62 NATO rounds piercing the Cricket’s hard outer shell.

Snipe looked up at the needles of the surrounding Pines.

Then adjusted the dials on his scope. “ Who names these things anyway?” Bang. One of the antennae flew off. “ I mean is it like a job?” Bang. The other antennae disappeared. “’Cause if it is. I could do better.”

The shock from the loss of the antennae caused the creature to become disoriented.

It became more aggressive and began to move toward Kathy.

This was not an acceptable situation to Scott. He ran to the back of the destroyed toy hauler and picked up a dirt bike.

Now we have all heard the story of the woman who was able to lift a car off of her injured child.

Adrenalin can help you do amazing things.

Well, evidently if your wife is in danger adrenalin kicks in.

Big time.

Holding the motorcycle by the seat and handle bars. Scott made two revolutions then launched the bike at the head of the Giant.

The composite eyes of the creature allowed it to see the bike coming and so was able to catch it in it’s mouth.

Bang! Snipe shot a hole in the gas tank.

If you have ever watched ‘Mythbusters’, you know that shooting a gas tank won’t make it explode.

Scott pulled a slender silver cylinder about the size of a magic marker from the side pocket of his black fatigue pants. Holding it in his fist he broke the top off with his thumb.

A red hissing flame ignited.

Scott tossed the hand flare in an underhanded arc that made contact with the fuel of the bike.

A loud explosion and a small mushroom cloud of black smoke ensued.

Scott ran over and hugged Kathy.

“I mean, Why not call it “Big Fat Ant?”” Snipe asked

“Let it go.” I said, “Let It Go.”

We all returned to our vehicles and continued the journey. Minus the toy hauler.

We had traveled for about 30 minutes when the Hardwick’s pulled over into a turnout.

The rest of us followed suit.

Scott and Kathy exited their truck.

Snipe and I got out of ours, and Trey came out of the RV.

“What’s up?” Trey asked as we all gathered at the lead vehicle.

“ We have to switch drivers.” Kathy said.

“My shoulders are killing me,” Scott said in a strained voice. “I must have pulled something when I threw the bike.”

“Now that the adrenalin has worn off, you are feeling the consequences of you actions.” Snipe said.

“This is the consequences of my actions.” Scott answered and gave Kathy a light kiss.

“Awwwww.” Trey, Snipe and I said in unison.

“Trey,” Snipe said, “Get a plastic bag and some ice out of the ice chest in the back of our truck.”

“I’m on it.” Trey said and sprinted to the Sonoma.

Snipe continued, to Scott, “Good thing you stopped. If we ice it down now, you should be good to go by the time we reach Tahoe”

I noticed beads of sweat on Snipes forehead.

“You Okay?” I asked.

“I think the dog bite may be getting infected. I feel like I might have a fever and the wound is pounding like a son of a bitch.” Snipe said as he tenderly rubbed the bitten hand.

“Anything I can do to help?” I asked.

Snipe answered, “You can drive. I’ll take a couple of aspirins and fix an ice pack of my own.”

We patched up the walking wounded as best we could and once again, headed up the hill.

Once we were back on the road.

“You gonna be okay?” I asked Snipe, who was wrapping his arms around himself like he might be getting a chill.

“Once we get to Valhalla, we’ll find Med. 1 and see if he has something in his med kit that can help.” He answered.

Snipe is an EMT himself and is going to school to become a Physicians Assistant. So I trusted his self diagnosis.

The trek to Tahoe was a frightening journey. The webs grew thicker on the trees as we got closer to our destination. More than once we stopped and waited as some giant beastie or another crossed the thoroughfare. At one point we even saw a deer wrapped in webbing being hauled into the upper branches of a Ponderosa Pine by a wolf spider.

Episode 7

Our friends had arrived.

Scott and Kathy got out of the Truck.

If you have ever seen Disney’s ‘Three Musketeers’, the character of Porthos

looks just like Scott. The sound of their voices are nearly the same, as is their

sense of humor. It’s uncanny. Scott was wearing the riot gear from his job as a corrections officer. Complete with sidearms.

Kathy has always reminded me of a young Maureen O’Hara. Her flowing red hair, bright smile and independent attitude made her a joy to have around. Kathy was dressed in the Kevlar outfit that she had received in during our last adventure in Vegas. She was also equipped with matching 45’s on her hips.

From the RV, ‘The Frying Dutchman‘, exited Robert the Hair. His tall thin frame covered head to toe in leather. His long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. He was carrying his twin Uzi 9mm’s in a shoulder rig.

Rellie followed him. At five foot nothing and dress in Kevlar, 45’s strapped to her hips, she gave new meaning to the saying, ‘Dynamite comes in small packages.

After Rellie was Kathy’s assistant Raven. Raven is also a good friend of ours. She’s a small wisp of a woman with a big attitude and red hair. Red hair and all that that entails.

Raven hadn’t been with us during the great Zombie uprising so she didn’t have a Kevlar

Outfit. For her own safety, Robert had encased her in leather and Scott had

Equipped her with his ankle gun, a 38 special.

Lastly stepping out of the RV was Trey the Professional Showoff.

His long black hair flowed from under his black leather top hat. Trey’s top hat was like mine, sans the skull and crossbones headband. He was dressed in a black full-length canvas duster, black pants, black shirt, and black boots. His SKS carbine slung over his shoulder and at his hip was his signature bullwhip.

Because whips aren’t just cool-they’re sexy.

Snipe and I really felt underdressed. Here we stood in the middle of the KFC parking lot.

Snipe wearing shorts, his Disney’s ‘The Incredibles’ Jersey and a ball cap. I was in jeans, my ‘keep looking I might do a trick.’ T-shirt and my leather top hat complete with skull and crossbones headband. Snipe and I both were wearing matching ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ Crocs. Again, don’t ask.

Scott and Kathy opened up their Toy hauler. Inside were a couple of ‘quads’ and two dirt bikes. While they began to unload them. Snipe reached into the box that was in the back of our truck and got out the leather gear that he had worn when we had fought the zombies in Vegas. He changed into the leather and strapped on his 1911 custom handgun that he had also stashed in the crate.

I took off the Crocs and put on my high leather boots. I changed in to my black t-shirt with a large portrait of ‘Marvin the Martian’ covering the front. Incase you’re wondering, Hey we’re Rennies. We’re used to changing our clothes in parking lots.

“The webs that you described to us seem to be spreading their way up the mountain” Scott commented as we finished suiting up.

“If they keep spreading, they will soon overtake Valhalla,” Kathy said.

“Since the Strangeness seems to start here lets take a look around and do some recon, “Snipe said, “That way we might learn a bit more about what we are up against.”

Kathy and Scott got on the ‘quads.’

Snipe and Trey were on the dirt bikes.

Robert, Rellie, Raven and I loaded into the ‘Dutchman’.

We cautiously moved out of the Parking lot. Trey and Snipe side by side in the lead. Followed by Kathy and Scott, with the ‘Dutchman’ following closely behind.

We slowly made our way through the silent streets.

Eyes wide, senses at their peek we traveled up and down the streets. The slight breeze made an eerie whistling sound through the webs that hung on the trees and trailed from eve to eve, house to house. We rounded a corner and were beginning to enter the area known as ‘Old Town‘. It was called old town because it kept the western, mining town look. As we made our way down the Avenue, we took notice of what seemed to be a pile of rubbish in the middle of the road.

Everyone came to a halt. Scott dismounted the quad and moved forward to investigate.

When he was just about on top of the pile, it flew up into the air. From underneath the pile sprang a huge hairy spider. It was built like a tarantula. It had large furry legs that ended with little hooks that it was now using to grapple with Scott, keeping his arms entangled so he could get to his weapon. The giant bug was trying to pull Scott toward the two huge, venom-dripping fangs that protruded from its mouth.

“Trap door Spider” I yelled as I exited the RV followed closely by the others.

Kathy was already off her quad and reaching for her sidearm. The Spider sensed her movement. Its abdomen curled underneath, a stream of rope sized sticky webbing encased Kathy, and she fell to the pavement. Unable to fight the beast’s enormous strength, Scott struggled with all his might as he was pulled, inch by inch, closer to the poisonous fangs.

Snipe and Trey, jumped off the dirt bikes, and circled around opposite sides of the giant.

Try as they may, they couldn’t get a clear shot because of Scott. Snipe yelled and ran toward the spider. With its attention on Snipe, Trey pulled his whip.

“Crack” the sound of the leather coil breaking the sound barrier echoed through the silent streets.

“Ouch!” Scot cried as the whip encircled his torso.

“Now!” Trey yelled as he pulled Scott free.

The following moments were filled with very loud booming sounds and the strong smell of cordite permeated the air as Robert, Rellie, Raven, and myself, blew the spider into itty bitty tiny little spider bits.

Once the creature had been squished like, the bug that is was. Scott ran to Kathy and cut her out of the web cocoon.

While Scott was helping Kathy to her feet, we all heard Robert yell, “Heads Up!”

We looked around to find that from other camouflaged heaps more Trap Door Spiders were emerging.

Why didn’t we notice them before? You ask.

Hello! Camouflage.

“Move! Move! Move!” Scott and Snipe yelled in unison.

I Looked at Robert, we just smiled and yelled,” Duh! Duh!, Duh!” as we ran back to the RV.

With everyone back inside, and the rest all mounted up on their respective vehicles. We made great haste back to the KFC parking lot. Once there, the off road vehicles were quickly loaded back into the toy hauler. While we loaded we could hear a ‘chittering’ sound that kept getting louder and louder. Everyone jumped into the vehicles they had arrived in and we headed out of town.

When we got to the freeway on-ramp we were surprised to discovered that the passage was blocked be a huge web net. This was perplexing. A web here would suggest more than just “spider” intelligence.

If you have ever touched webbing that was made by a normal sized spider, you know that it is extremely strong. Now imagine that strength multiplied over a thousand times. There was no way we were going to plow through this road block of insect design.

I grabbed my cell phone and speed dialed Trey.

“My brother from another mother.” Trey answered.

“Trey,” I said, “That webbing is too strong to ram through, but most webs are extremely flammable.”

“I’m on it.” Trey said.

A second latter we saw Trey exit the RV. In his hand was a container of Kingston Lighter Fuel. Trey brought the fuel up to his mouth and took a big swig. Then from his pocket he produced a Zippo lighter, flipped the silver cap back and spun the flint wheel with his thumb.

The wick ignited.

Trey brought the Zippo up to his mouth and blew the fuel out in a fine mist which dutifully caught fire.

Trey Cromwell, Professional Show-off, and human flame thrower.

The web road block was engulf in flames and went up like the Hindenburg.

We blasted through the flaming mass and started our journey to Tahoe and Valhalla.

Scott and Kathy were in the lead. Followed by Snipe and I in the Sonoma. Robert and the rest of the group brought up the rear in the “Dutchman.”

As we traveled up the freeway. Scott informed us by cell phone, that the webbing he and Kathy had noticed on the way down the hill, had gained a lot of ground in the short time they had been with us in Placerville.

If the monster spider invasion was moving this fast there was a very good chance that the faire site would be overrun by the time we arrived.

Episode 4

We walked over to where the body of the spider lay. Let me rephrase that. The body parts of the spider lay. The legs each appeared to be close to three foot in length, segmented and hairy.

“Check it out.” Snipe said. “The hairs on the legs are serrated.”

“That is to help it climb and hold onto things,” I answered. “It wouldn’t mean

much if they were regular size, but being this huge, those serrations could slice

you up pretty good if they got a hold of you.”

“I guess I lucked out” Snipe said.

“Why ’cause it didn’t get a hold of you?” I asked.

“Well that, and the fact that I have my very own Bug Man with me.” Snipe

answered.

Snipe was referring to the fact that for the last ten years I had been a

professional in the field of pest control. In fact I have a Branch 2 licenses from the state of California. I have to study, have to complete on going education in identification, proper chemical use, safety blah, blah, blah.

Meanwhile back to the spider.

Some of the legs were blown off and the abdomen had a hole blown through it.

It was the markings on the back that caused me concern though.

“Crap.” I said.

“What’s wrong?” Snipe asked.

I picked a stick up off the ground and used it as a pointer.

“See these markings.” I said, as I traced the pattern on the spiders back.

“Just looks like a design to me.” Snipe said.

” That’s because the spider is so big, now start backing away as you look at it.

Then you will see what it would look like if the bug was normal size.”

Snipe began to back away. Eyes still focused on the giant insect.

“Wait, I see something, “Snipe said, “It looks like a violin.”

“That’s what I see too, and it’s not a good thing.” I commented.

I continued the spider identification lesson, “The markings mean that this is what

folks in the Midwest would call a “Fiddle Back Spider” also known as “The Brown

Recluse”.

Snipe just stared at me.

“Do you know what this means?” I asked.

“That we have found a giant spider of Latino descent that happens to enjoy

music, preferably from a group with a large string section?” he questioned.

“No!” I exclaimed. “The Brown Recluse is one of the most dangerous spiders in

the U.S. At normal size the bite of the Fiddle Back is very painful and has fast

acting, skin rotting, effects. People have been known to lose extremities and

even limbs after receiving a bite from a Brown Recluse.”

“Okay, Big Spider. Bad.” Snipe said.

“Some more things,” I continued, “The Brown Recluse is not native to California.

Our climate is not a good habitat for them. They are native to the mid-west. Any

Fiddle Backs found in our state usually hitchhiked on produce trucks or some

other interstate transportation.”

“Okay, Bad big spider has unsafe traveling skills.” Snipe said, soaking in the

info.

“Thirdly,” I said, “It is called a ‘Recluse’ for a reason. As dangerous as the

spider is, it is normally very shy, and hides in dark places like wood piles and

junk piles. This one was out in the open and aggressive.”

As we stood there, we finally became aware of the utter silence of the

surrounding town.

There was no movement except for a loose piece of paper that rode a slight

breeze down the sidewalk. The silence was suddenly broken by the theme from ‘Poltergeist’ as my cell phone rang.

“Hello this is Steve.” I answered.

Trey was on the other end. He had already asked us to pick him up some carrots

and some Diet Coke with lime before I could get him to shut up.

I quickly explained what was going on.

Trey asked me to hold on a second. Through the phone I heard the voices of

other folks that I knew. Then another voice came over the phone.

“Steve, This is Scott.” Scott Hardwick spoke. “Trey and a group of us are at our

encampment. Hang tight. We’re on our way.”

Trey, and Scott’s wife Kathy had been with us in February when we had fought our way from Yuma, through Vegas and eventually to Area 51, during the big Zombie uprising. We knew they would come loaded for bear.

I closed the cell and told Snipe what had transpired over the phone. We decided since we were already here, the best place to hold up would be

KFC. Who knows, we may even find some tasty, crunchy, deep fried treats.

We walked back to the front door of the restaurant. We checked the door and

found it unlocked. We entered with our weapons at the ready. The building was silent. Everything was set out as if they were ready for business and no one came. All the stations were prepped, full and ready. There were tasty, crunchy, golden morsels of manna from heaven in the warmers.

It all appeared so strange…and yet so familiar at the same time.

Snipe and I looked at each other. “You don’t think?” Snipe asked.

“No Way.” I said.

We headed for the walk-in freezer. We entered and began to move all the stock away from the rear wall. Once that was done I pressed my ear against the wall. I pushed the side of my head hard against the metal wall and strained to hear the sounds of ABBA.

“Crap” I said.

“What, no ABBA?” Snipe replied.

“It’s worse than that.” I said.

“How?”

“I think my head is frozen to the wall.”

Snipe went to get a glass of warm water.

The silver metal was freezing cold against my cheek.

“Pat?”

Nothing.

“Snipe”

Nothing.

“Hello! Anybody”

Nothing.

“It’s not funny anymore.”

I tenderly try to pull my frozen cheek away from the cold metal wall. Nope, not going to happen.

Suddenly the room lit up like there had been a flash of lightening. My butt cheeks clinched as I prepared for the worst. Then in front of my face appeared a small rectangular object. With a little three inch screen. To my terror, on the screen was a picture of me stuck to the wall.

Snipe made that little kid laugh of his as he pulled the camera back.

“Kodak camera, $390. Gas for trip, $85. Picture of your best friend stuck to a wall that you are going to post on Myspace. Priceless.”

After he was done laughing and was sure that I had cooled down. He finally

poured warm water between my face and the wall.

“‘Bout time.” I said, “What took you so long?”

Still trying to catch his breath, “It took me a minute to find the camera. Then

when I was coming back this big ass dog showed up.”

He showed me his hand. He had it wrapped up in a towel. The dog had bitten

him pretty good. We went over to the sink and cleaned it up. We then looked for, and found a first aid kit in the kitchen. I put some disinfectant on the wound then wrapped a gauze bandage around it.

We went back to the warmers, procured some chicken, and then sat in the dinning room snaking on legs. I prefer the extra crunchy.

While we waited for our friends to arrive we peered out the windows. We could see large webs spanning from tree to tree and from building to building.

We saw Snipe’s dog skulking behind some parked cars. It looked like a German Sheppard hybrid to me. It was pretty big. If you ask me he was lucky to get off with just the bite on the hand.

Eventually we heard the sound of vehicles and into view drove a truck pulling a toy hauler. Behind the toy hauler drove a beat up looking RV.

The smell of French fries filled the air.

Prologue

It was after hours at the last Renaissance Faire of the season. My friends and I were sitting around a fire pit. We had just finished our dinner and were settling down for an evening of storytelling and reminiscing.

At a previous Faire I had told a story of Zombies attacking a Renaissance Faire. Some of the listeners played a part in the tale.

On this chilly November night, as my friends sat in folding chairs wrapped in warm blankets and cloaks, sipping their drinks. They looked to me and smiled.

“Tell us a story Uncle Teeb.

It was a little after 5:30 in the morning, the first weekend in June. I got up and got dressed. I kissed my sleeping wife on the forehead and went outside.

It was a beautiful cool morning. The false dawn painted yellow, red and orange hues across the sky as the sun started its journey over the Sierra Nevada Mountains to my East.

I took a deep breath of the cool morning air and stretched, loosening up my muscles. I wasn’t in too bad of shape for a 48 year old, but I was noticing a stiffness that hadn’t been there five years ago, and it wasn’t the cool ’Hey Baby, How you doing.’ kind of stiffness either.

I punched the code into the numeric pad and my garage door noisily opened.

While the door slowly rose, I dropped the tailgate down on my old Sonoma.

I turned around and peered into my garage. The equipment and gear that I used as a performer at Renaissance Faires was piled up ready to go. Behind the pile was a very messy garage. I winced at the site knowing that when I got back home from my trip I was going to catch hell. My wife had asked me to organize everything before I left and I had procrastinated.

If I made good money at the show I may be able to buy my way out of a severe tongue-lashing.

I started packing my gear into the truck.

Tent.

Check.

Clothes and Costumes.

Check.

Sleeping bags.

Check.

Chairs.

Check.

Ice Chest full of food and “drink.”

Check, Check.

Magic show.

Check.

Inflatable Flamingos.

Check. Don’t ask.

Everything important was packed and I was off to Valhalla.

Now in case you’re not into Renaissance Faires, I don’t want you to think I was on my way to the Viking Happy Hunting ground.

You see my name is Steve, and I am one-half of the comedy magic team of “Myth & Magic”. Valhalla is the name of a Faire near Lake Tahoe.

So now that I had all my things packed, I headed to the home of my best friend and partner in magic, Patrick ‘Snipe’ Reule.

Now Pat and I are a ‘Mutt and Jeff’ looking team. For those of you reading who are much younger than myself. That means we have different body types. While I am nearly six foot tall and average in size. Snipe is about 5’8” or 5’9” and built like a tank. To look at him you wouldn’t think he wasn’t very fast, but you’d be wrong. I was witness when a drunk made that mistake once. The guy had more alcohol than brains, and more mouth than vocabulary. He also had more bravado than technique. The drunk took a swing at Snipe, and from a flatfooted stance Snipe went all ‘Billy Jack’ and kicked the guy upside the head.

‘Billy Jack’ is a 70’s pop-culture reference. Google it.

However, I digress.

When I arrived at Snipes house, he had all his stuff piled up on the sidewalk and was waiting for me.

“Why is everything out here?” I asked.

Snipe answered, “I promised my wife I would have the garage cleaned up before I left. She looked in last night around 10:30. Noticing that it was still in disarray, she explained to me that my future happiness, not to mention my ability to father children, rested in a clean garage. I just finished.”

Inside I cringed at the foreshadowing his words held for my eventual return home.

He threw in his sleeping bag, his duffle full of clothes and a wooden crate I hadn’t seen before.

“What’s with the crate?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said.

Therefore, I didn’t.

We were off to Tahoe.

After nearly three hours on the road, we made our usual pee pee stop at a Truck Stop in Ripon we had become familiar with over the years.

While we were there we got a call from our buddy Trey the Professional

Show-off. He was already at Tahoe and he let us know that some of our other friends had also arrived. Like Kathy and Scott Hardwick. Kathy sold jewelry in her booth, ‘Much Ado About Something‘. Her Husband Scott was taking some time off from being a correctional officer. Robert of ‘Leather Mystics’ was there in his bio-diesel RV which he had christened ‘The Frying Dutchman‘. All of Northwinds Security, and assorted other friends were also in attendance.

We left Ripon and headed North on Hwy 99. Traffic was your usual Friday morning work commute. It slowed down every now and then but it wasn’t too bad.

We soon arrived at our turn off and headed East. We drove through the rolling hills joking and singing with the radio for a while. When we got tired of singing we listened to a new CD by Neidfyre. ( Mel’s music is the official sound track of Night Terrors)

When we turned on to Grant Line Rd. and headed North again, we noticed dark grey clouds gathering at the base of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Since it was the time of year when it can be 110 degrees in the valley and yet there could still be snow on the ground at Tahoe, we thought nothing of it.

We drove through the Sacramento area close to the area where Fair Oaks Faire is held and caught Hwy 50 east to Reno/Tahoe. We had been on the road awhile and were beginning to get a wee bit hungry.

We decided to stop in Placerville and go to KFC. We planed to get the official Travel food of “Myth & Magic“. Bucket O’ Legs. My mouth began to water just thinking of the golden fried goodness that we would soon be partaking.

After we had been on the road for a little over four hours we started up the winding Highway into the mountains toward Placerville.

I have always liked Placerville. It reminded me of the small mining towns that my Grandfather had grown up in the Smokey Mountains. Like Big Stone Gap, and Imboden.

The pace a bit slower, the folks friendly.

As the Truck wound its way higher and higher up the mountain the low clouds seemed almost fog-like as the air grew cooler and the sunshine was dimmed.

Snipe noticed what looked like huge spider webs hanging like Spanish moss from the trees. It also hung from the light poles that lined the freeway.

Finally we got to the Placerville exit and pulled into town. Placerville is a small town so we didn’t notice the lack of traffic immediately. We pulled into the parking lot of KFC. We parked the truck, got out and stretched our legs for a bit. Then we started toward the door. I was walking in front of Snipe. I had bought a huge 64 once Mountain Dew in Ripon and it wanted out. It wanted out bad!

When I reached for the entrance something slammed into my back and smashed me into the door. My glasses flew off and when I tried to turn around to see what had hit me, I found I couldn’t move. It was as if I were glued to the door.

Then I heard what I could only describe as a skittering sound.

Then I heard the tailgate of my truck open.

Then I heard Snipe yell, “EEYA!”

Then I heard a sound like boards breaking.

Then I heard a sound like a shotgun, but I heard it 12 times in rapid succession

Episode 3

I struggled against the gooey glop that held me to the door. I struggled even harder as I heard footsteps crunching on the asphalt, approaching from behind Me.

‘Snick,’ the glop fell away from me as Snipe sliced it away with his ‘Cold Steel’ pocket knife. (“Cold Steel” the official bladed weapons of ‘Knight Terrors’)

As the strange goop hit the pavement with a wet sounding splat, a thought ran Through my head, “I wonder what it would be like to have product placement in a Written story.”

Sorry, being Bi-polar, thoughts just rush through my head at the strangest times.

Sometimes it’s drive-by genius, other times its Maniacal Mayhem.

However, I digress.

As I turned around, I saw Snipe. Slung over his shoulder was his Sniper rifle. In His hands was one of the coolest things I have every seen. It was a shotgun, but not your ordinary everyday shotgun. Hell no, this shotgun had a large drum like magazine attach to the underside.

Snipe held it out to me.

A tear came to my eye.

“It’s, it’s beautiful.” I whispered. My voice catching in my throat.

“It’s a full auto shotgun.” Snipe said.

I lovingly caressed the short riot length barrel of my new toy.

Snipe slugged me hard square on the chin.

“Ow! What the hell?” I exclaimed.

“Had to break you out of it,” Snipe said, ” You sounded Like you were going to go all ‘Broke back’ on me.”

“I’m good.” I said, ” So what attacked me?”

” As close as I can tell,” Snipe answered, ” It was a Giant Spider.”

“A what?” I asked

“Spider, you know, arachnophobia and all that.” Snipe answered.

Snipe explained that as I had been walking to the KFC door, he had stooped down to tie his shoe. As he did he heard a ‘Thwipping’ sound from the far side of the truck. He then heard and saw me hit and become attached to the door. He stayed low, and waited for whatever it was to move, and sure enough it did. He told me he nearly said bad words as the spider crept past him on its way to what it probably felt would be a free lunch. He then busted open the wooden crate he had been so secretive about and produced the ‘Shotgun From Hell’ then thoroughly dispatched the eight legged giant to the aforementioned place of fire and brimstone.

‘Sweet!’

Episode 31

Bill or rather, ‘Fry Cook 1’, had sent the directions to Area 51 to the on board navigation systems of the Hummers.

We flew through the streets of Vegas, guns blazing and tires squealing.

The Mini guns tore the ‘Deaders’ to pieces, making the journey much easier then it had been in Roberts RV.

Soon we were past the city limits. Without the confines of streets and buildings. The undead parade widened out. Soon we were in the dessert.

The beautiful expanse of the clear blue sky full of twinkling stars was an awesome contrast to the mayhem we had witnessed in the last few days.

I paused for a moment, took a deep breath of the clean fresh air and tried to relax my shoulders.

The wind blowing through my hair caused my scalp to sting where my hair had ripped out. All and all it could have been worse

My mind wondered for a bit as we traveled into the darkness.

I have done many events in my short lifetime. In many different places and with many different people. I felt blessed that when the ‘shit’ had it the fan, I was with these people.

We traveled for an hour or so as the western horizon began to brighten with red, orange and yellow hues.

Off in the distance from I could see the silhouette of a razor wire topped fence.

A few more minute past and we came to a high gate.

Done the fence from the gate I could see areas where the ‘Deader’s’ had breeched the fence line from the shear weight of their numbers.

The filed through the openings and paid little attention to us now that they were so close to the otherworldly beacon that beckoned them.

“Just a second.” Snipe said. “ I’ll have this gate open in no time.”

He started exit the Hummer when the thunder of Stevil Mini-gun exploded through the night air.

The locking mechanism of the gate disappeared in a shower of sparks.

“Okay,” Snipe said, “That works too.”

Snipe revved the Hummers engine and plowed through the gate.

We followed closely behind.

On the dashboard navigation system, a flashing red dot highlighted the building we needed to get to.

We flew across the base that the government had insisted was not a reality. The building that we needed to get to was on the far side of a vast open area and appeared to be a bunker of some sort.

It was surrounded by zombies milling about trying to get in.

The sound of their moaning was deafening and had a nearly bowel loosening effect.

As we sped toward the bunker Stevil and I had the Mini-guns a blazing. Wide swaths of the undead turned to gray green mist as the hot steel tore then to shreds.

Robert and Snipe slid the Hummers to a sideways halt right in front of a huge metal door.

Stevil and I kept the zombies at bay as Robert, Snipe and the girls exited the vehicles.

As Snipe went to work on the door’s electronic lock. Robert and the warrior women unleashed as much fire power as they could to keep the ’Deaders’ at bay as Stevil and I jumped down from the Mini’s.

Snipe finally got the door open and we all rushed inside. Once we were all in, Snipe pushed the heavy door shut.

The door closed with an ominous boom that echoed down the halls of the bunker.

It was deathly quite and yet the hairs on the back of my head began to rise. The air was thick with a feeling of foreboding.

“Does this make anyone else think of the ’Under the Mountain Scene’ in ’Lord of the Rings?’

Robert asked.

As if to punctuate his comment, unearthly scream came boiling up from the depths of the complex.

“I’m scared, Mr. Frodo.” I said.

The neither worldly scream that we had just heard, did not, sound like a ‘Deader’. It sounded much bigger.

I looked down the hall and noticed that all the lights were dead. Yet I could see several yards down what should have been a dark hallway.

I heard Robert’s voice, “Holy crap!”

I turned around to see everyone staring at Gypsy. Her eyes were jet black orbs of infinite depth, and her entire body was engulfed in a cold white silver flame.

No one was standing next to her because, hey, I’m sorry, It was really freaky.

“Gyp’, You Okay?” Snipe asked attentively.

Her voice sounded far away and yet as crystal clear as a silver bell, “I am quite well Patrick.”

“Oooookay then,” Snipe said, “We had better get moving.”

“What about that, That thing we just heard?” Stevil asked.

“We’ll kill that Zombie when we come to it.” Snipe answered.

“It sounded like that huge creature from the Lord of the Rings.” Robert said. “The Rancor.”

“The Rancor, was the pit creature in ’The Empire Strikes Back.” Trey corrected.

Snipe spoke up, “If you two are done geeking out, we need to get moving. Besides there is no use scaring ourselves. I’m sure we can find something to do that for us.”

We traveled down the hallway. Our way illuminated by the glow of Gypsy’s flames.

At the end of the hall was an elevator, and because there was no power in the building, was just nothing but a box on a wire.

Near the elevator door we found another door. This one was marked ’Stairs’.

We open the door and entered the stairway. On the wall was the number 23 painted in bright orange numbers.

“Crap!” Stevil said.

“Why crap?” I asked.

Stevil answered “23 means 23 floors and since we are at ground level. That means that there are 23 floors below us.”

When we looked down the center of the stair well we could see the stair winding down, round and round down into the darkness.

Then from below we heard growling.

Then a sound like running on cement.

The sounds were growing louder.

I looked over the railing and down. What I saw was an abomination.

Coming up the stairway with cat like speed and the agility of a spider monkey, was a creature the size of a small pony. It had huge paws for feet and large pointy claws at the ends of its arms. It head looked like a cross between a lion and a shark. Feline shaped and a massive amount of pointy teeth. It had no fur and its skin had the appearance of burnt flesh. The muscles underneath that flesh would have put a body builder on Venice Beach to shame.

Stevil stepped to the front of the group, shot gun at the ready. He waited for the creature to round the stairs.

The creature had a different idea and leapt over the handrail and bound up the center of the stairwell, covering the distance between us in two mighty leaps.

It swung back onto the stairs right behind Stevil.

Stevil swung around and started to bring his weapon up.

The creature was faster and swatted Stevil away as if he were an annoying insect.

The blow of the Creature was so strong that it lifted Stevil off his feet and sent him flying into a nearby wall.

We are heard a loud crack as Stevil’s head came into contact with the unforgiving concrete wall. A trial of bright red blood stained the wall as Stevil’s body slid to the floor and lay in a crumpled heap.

The rest of us unleashed everything we had on the creature.

All of us, except for Snipe.

Snipe leapt at the beast. All around him, bullets were striking, but he didn’t seem to notice of even care.

Snipe moved to strike the creature high in the face. The creature move its great apelike arms to grab Snipe.

Snipe dropped to the ground and with the loudest yell I have ever heard, delivered a sweeping kick to the things ankles.

The creatures feet come off the ground.

The force of our shots started it flipping head first over the railing.

Snipe grabbed its feet and gave soul wrenching yell of anger and anguish and shoved it the rest of the way over.

I looked over the railing and watched as the creature flip tail over tea kettle, gaining speed until it vanish from sight.

A few seconds later we all heard a wet, deep, smacking sound. Like a watermelon hitting the pavement.

Snipe stooped down and retrieved Stevil’s fallen shot gun then turn back to look at the rest of us. “ Come on. We have work to do.”

Snipe led the way down the stairs.

As we descended, Stevil’s vacant eye’s watched us pass.

We traveled down the winding staircase in silent determination. The realization that one of us had fallen weighed heavily on each of our hearts and minds.

I took my place at the rear of the column. Snipe was in the lead, then Robert, then the ladies.

“What are we going to tell him?” Robert asked Snipe.

“What?” Snipe said.

Robert answered, ” What are we going to tell Ding. We told him we would watch out for his dad.”

Snipe just looked at Robert. Eyes wet, lip trembling. He said nothing. He just turned and continued down the stairs.

As we continued downward I called out the numbers painted on the wall, as floor by floor, their value decreased by one.

Finally the stairs came to an end.

Observation.

Going down stairs is easier than going up.

That being said. If you go down 23 floors of steps…your legs still hurt like a bitch.

Stepping off the stairs and into the room we saw a large vault like door on one wall, the door to the non-working elevator on another and an oozing mass of goo in the center of the floor.

Snipe sniffed deep and long and hawked with a wrenched throaty sound, ensuring that the loogie would be vast and thick.

Snipe walked to the oozing mass in the floor and spit dead center.

“Fuck You!” Snipe shouted.

He then unzipped his pants and proceeded to piss on the remains of the creature that had kill his best friend.

Robert walked up next to Snipe and reacted in kind.

Steve was my friend also and I knew he would like this kind of send off so I whipped it out and let flow also.

The Girls just stared at our testosterone laden bonding ritual.

“Ah.. we’re with you in spirit.” Kathy said.

Rellie just stared dumbstruck, “I didn’t think it was THAT cold in here.”

Gypsy drifted over to the huge vault like door. Her hair danced in a wind that was experienced by no one else. Silver flames danced from fingertip to finger tip.

There were no whites to her eyes, the sockets were fill with black orbs of infinite depth. Like small universes filled with bright silver shooting stars.

We all went to the vault door.

Robert spoke, “Gypsy, are you…?”

“It is nearly time to rest.” She said with a smile.

I took a step back, Gypsy’s my friend and all but this was really getting weird, and if you take into account all the things that had happened in the last few days you can understand that I had just about reached my weird quota.

Snipe checked to se if the door had been left open. No use being shown up by the women twice in one adventure, but it was locked. It had a numeric pad and a tumbler style combination dial lock.

Snipe made quick work of the numeric pad, but when it came to the combination dial, he just scratched his head.

Now let me say that I am not a huge fan of old movies. Yet as a child there was one that I would watch whenever I could.

It starred Tony Curtis in what I consider to be his best role ever, ” Houdini!”

Houdini is probably the best know escape artist of all time. In fact in my “Show-off Show” I pay tribute to my hero by escaping from a straitjacket.

What a lot of folks don’t know is that my youthful study of Houdini lead me to learn the secrets of lock picking and safe cracking.

It wasn’t until later in my performing career that I realized escaping from a safe, although very manly and cool, involved carting around a VERY heavy prop. Thus the straitjacket.

So with the voice of my childhood hero whispering in my ear, I went to work on the combination dial.

Eyes closed I concentrated on my finger tips.

In old movies, the guy always puts his ear to the door of the safe and listens. In reality, with training, you can feel the tumblers with you fingertips.

The dial was top notch and smooth, so I had to proceed very slowly. Finally after a few minutes that had seemed like hours, I heard and felt a click.

Snipe and Robert began to turn the massive wheel on the door.

I made sure I had a full magazine in my SKS, with two more in easy reach.

Rellie and Kathy had their weapons poised at the spot where the door would crack open.

Gypsy stood at the center point of where the opening would be once the vault door had finished it’s journey.

Her hair had turned silver white. She held her chin high, arms outstretched, silver white bolts of power crackling and arching from palm to palm.

The Vault door slowly and smoothly swung open.

Beyond the door was a large room. From the looks of the equipment strewn about the floor it was a lab of some kind.

It was quiet. In the center of the room, suspended by a web of throbbing human flesh, was the meteor.

“Balance must be restored.” Gypsies said in a far away voice not her own.

Gypsy slowly moved into the room.

Across the room low to the floor I saw a flash of movement low to the ground.

“Snipe!” I called out.

“Saw it!” Snipe said as he stepped into the room brandishing Stevil’s shotgun.

Robert followed him in, and Uzi in each hand.

Snipe and Robert stepped in front of Gypsy and stood shoulder to shoulder.

Kathy, Rellie and I took the hint and completed the protective circle around Gypsy.

I was in the rear walking backward and Kathy and Rellie were on opposite shoulders.

We traveled deeper into the room. What had earlier just been a flash at the corner of my vision now came fully into view.

Creatures the size of large hounds scurried behind the desks and workstations of the lab.

One jump up onto a work table. it was hairless and had a long pointed nose and huge mouth full of sharp looking teeth, a squat body and a long furless tail.

“Oh my God,” Said Rellie, “They’re Lab rats!”

Once she had said it her description rang true.

The sounds of their scurrying began to surround us.

More and more of the creatures began to jump up on desks and work stations. Although none were as large as the first one they were dangerous looking none the less.

The First one, whom I will call “Ben”, was looking from table to table as the number of new rat began to grow.

As they arrived they kept watching “Ben” as if waiting for a signal.

We were watching the rodent creatures so intently that we nearly missed a rather freaky manifestation, as faces began to appear on the webs of flesh that held up the meteor.

The faces spoke in voices that sounded like a choir of out of tune violins, “Child of Jesu and Gaia, we have no reason for conflict, join with us and know the cosmic peace.”

Gypsy answered back in a voice that rang true like the most perfect of duets. As her mouth moved masculine and female voices uttered forth in the excellent of harmonies,” Soul Eater, our children are not for thee. Release them now and go your way.”

The Soul Eater spoke again and the rodents began to get agitated, “Your time has past. You gave your children choice and they choose Chaos. I will bring them order.”

The Power in Gypsy spoke, “You bring them slavery!”

Gypsy raised her hands high. Silver white energy pulsed from the earth up her body and arched across her outstretched palms.

From the center of the arch, a bolt of power flowed forth and engulfed the Meteor.

The faces in the web of flesh screamed in anger, pain and agony.

The sound that emitted from the faces was so horrible, so sorrowful, that we all nearly dropped to our knees in despair.

Imagine the most sorrowful feelings you have ever had in your life.

The time you didn’t get the job.

The death of a beloved pet.

The death of a relationship.

The death of a loved one.

Multiply that crushing sorrow you felt by a thousand, and you will be able to understand just a portion of the impact those fiendish faces of flesh were having upon our souls.

The emotional pain we felt tore through our souls like a chain saw through tissue paper.

In the overwhelming despair, we each ‘knew‘ suicide was our only answer.

The Souls Eater laughed.

“Kill Them!” It shouted.

The giant rats leapt at us.

The huge rat that I had named ‘Ben’, launched itself at Robert and Snipe. It was closely followed by two slightly smaller rodents.

In a circle around us the other rodents screamed a high pitched squeal, and with teeth bared and razor like claws raised, they joined the fray.

Now some folks might think that once we were in a near suicidal frame of mind, that we would be easy pickings.

EEEEEE wrong answer!

As a buddy of mine who had not only been to the deep pits of depression, but was a tour guide there with his own shovel, had once told me.

“Offing yourself is about taking control. When you get attacked, no matter how depressed you are, you fight back because someone is taking control away from you again, and that just pisses you off.”

And we…..were being attacked.

Snipe let loose with the shotgun and a fireball exploded from the double barreled dealer of destruction and tore ‘Ben’ in half in mid leap.

Looking like Keanu Reeves in the ‘Matrix’, just taller and with better hair, Robert cut the two smaller rodents in half with 9mm hollow point round bursting from the twin Uzi’s.

Gypsy kept moving toward the meteor as Rellie and Kathy dealt death to the rodents as they leapt at Gypsy. The rodent exploded in mid flight as the warrior women shot them out of the air like clay pigeons.

I did my best to keep us from being surrounded, the deafening report of the SKS spewing destruction with each and every shot I took.

Finally we arrived at the Meteor.

Gypsy reached up and placed both hands on the space rock. The silver light about her burning even brighter.

The web of flesh that held the rock aloft began to bubble and decay.

The light that surrounded Gypsy grew even brighter.

The rodents no longer attacked but rolled and squirmed about the floor as if having seizures.

The light exploded and we felt but did not hear a deep thump.

Then there was darkness……

When we awoke.

The rats were healed and back to normal.

The flesh web was gone.

The meteor was gone.

Gypsy was gone.

Thinking that she might be hurt we began searching the lab, but there was not a trace of our friend.

For a moment we just stared at each other stunned.

Then we heard a familiar voice from the doorway.

“Where the hell are we and how’d we get here?” Steve said.

Snipe just ran up to him and gave him a bear hug as the rest of us just patted him on the back and wrapped our arms around each other in a group hug.

“Well?” Steve said to me.

“No freakin’ clue.” I said.

The End

Bill or rather, ‘Fry Cook 1’, had sent the directions to Area 51 to the on board navigation systems of the Hummers. 

We flew through the streets of Vegas, guns blazing and tires squealing. 

The Mini guns tore the ‘Deaders’ to pieces, making the journey much easier then it had been in Roberts RV. 

Soon we were past the city limits.  Without the confines of streets and buildings.  The undead parade widened out.  Soon we were in the dessert. 

The beautiful expanse of the clear blue sky full of twinkling stars was an awesome contrast to the mayhem we had witnessed in the last few days. 

I paused for a moment, took a deep breath of the clean fresh air and tried to relax my shoulders. 

The wind blowing through my hair caused my scalp to sting where my hair had ripped out.  All and all it could have been worse  

My mind wondered for a bit as we traveled into the darkness. 

I have done many events in my short lifetime.  In many different places and with many different people.  I felt blessed that when the ‘shit’ had it the fan, I was with these people. 

We traveled for an hour or so as the western horizon began to brighten with red, orange and yellow hues. 

Off in the distance from I could see the silhouette of a razor wire  topped fence. 

A few more minute past and we came to a high gate. 

Done the fence from the gate I could see areas where the ‘Deader’s’ had breeched the fence line from the shear weight of their numbers. 

The filed through the openings and paid little attention to us now that they were so close to the otherworldly beacon that beckoned them. 

“Just a second.” Snipe said. “ I’ll have this gate open in no time.” 

He started exit the Hummer when the thunder of Stevil Mini-gun exploded through the night air. 

The locking mechanism of the gate disappeared in a shower of sparks. 

“Okay,” Snipe said, “That works too.” 

Snipe revved the Hummers engine and plowed through the gate. 

We followed closely behind. 

On the dashboard navigation system, a flashing red dot highlighted the building we needed to get to. 

We flew across the base that the government had insisted was not a reality.  The building that we needed to get to was on the far side of a vast open area and appeared to be a bunker of some sort. 

It was surrounded by zombies milling about trying to get in.The sound of their moaning was deafening and had a nearly bowel loosening effect. 

As we sped toward the bunker Stevil and I had the Mini-guns a blazing.  Wide swaths of the undead turned to gray green mist as the hot steel tore then to shreds. 

Robert and Snipe slid the Hummers to a sideways halt right in front of a huge metal door. 

Stevil and I kept the zombies at bay as Robert, Snipe and the girls exited the vehicles. 

As Snipe went to work on the door’s electronic lock.  Robert and the warrior women unleashed as much fire power as they could to  keep the ’Deaders’ at bay as Stevil and I jumped down from the Mini’s. 

Snipe finally got the door open and we all rushed inside.  Once we were all in, Snipe pushed the heavy door shut. 

The door closed with an ominous boom that echoed down the halls of the bunker. 

It was deathly quite and yet the hairs on the back of my head began to rise.  The air was thick with a feeling of foreboding. 

“Does this make anyone else think of the ’Under the Mountain Scene’ in ’Lord of the Rings?’ Robert asked. 

As if to punctuate his comment, unearthly scream came boiling up from the depths of the complex. 

“I’m scared, Mr. Frodo.” I said. 

Episode 32 

The neither worldly scream that we had just heard, did not, sound like a ‘Deader’.  It sounded much bigger. 

I looked down the hall and noticed that all the lights were dead.  Yet I could see several yards down what should have been a dark hallway. 

I heard Robert’s voice, “Holy crap!” 

I turned around to see everyone staring at Gypsy.  Her eyes were jet black orbs of infinite depth, and her entire body was engulfed in a cold white silver flame. 

No one was standing next to her because, hey, I’m sorry, It was really freaky. “Gyp’, You Okay?” Snipe asked attentively. 

Her voice sounded far away and yet as crystal clear as a silver bell, “I am quite well Patrick.” 

“Oooookay then,” Snipe said, “We had better get moving.” 

“What about that, That thing we just heard?” Stevil asked. 

“We’ll kill that Zombie when we come to it.” Snipe answered. 

“It sounded like that huge creature from the Lord of the Rings.” Robert said.  “The Rancor.” 

“The Rancor, was the pit creature in ’The Empire Strikes Back.” Trey corrected. 

Snipe spoke up, “If you two are done geeking out, we need to get moving.  Besides there is no use scaring ourselves.  I’m sure we can find something to do that for us.” 

We traveled down the hallway.  Our way illuminated by the glow of Gypsy’s flames. 

At the end of the hall was an elevator, and because there was no power in the building, was just nothing but a box on a wire. 

Near the elevator door we found another door.  This one was marked ’Stairs’. 

We open the door and entered the stairway.  On the wall was the number 23 painted in bright orange numbers. 

“Crap!” Stevil said. 

“Why crap?” I asked. 

Stevil answered “23 means 23 floors and since we are at ground level.  That means that there are 23 floors below us.” 

When we looked down the center of the stair well we could see the stair winding down, round and round down into the darkness. 

Then from below we heard growling.  

Then a sound like running on cement. 

The sounds were growing louder. 

I looked over the railing and down.  What I saw was an abomination. 

Coming up the stairway with cat like speed and the agility of a spider monkey, was a creature the size of a small pony.  It had huge paws for feet and large pointy claws at the ends of its arms.  It head looked like a cross between a lion and a shark.  Feline shaped and a massive amount of pointy teeth.  It had no fur and its skin had the appearance of burnt flesh.  The muscles underneath that flesh would have put a body builder on Venice Beach to shame. 

Stevil stepped to the front of the group, shot gun at the ready.  He waited for the creature to round the stairs. 

The creature had a different idea and leapt over the handrail and bound up the center of the stairwell, covering the distance between us in two mighty leaps. 

It swung back onto the stairs right behind Stevil. 

Stevil swung around and started to bring his weapon up. 

The creature was faster and swatted Stevil away as if he were an annoying insect. 

The blow of the Creature was so strong that it lifted Stevil off his feet and sent him flying into a nearby wall. 

We are heard a loud crack as Stevil’s head came into contact with the unforgiving concrete wall.  A trial of bright red blood stained the wall as Stevil’s body slid to the floor and lay in a crumpled heap. 

The rest of us unleashed everything we had on the creature. 

All of us, except for Snipe. 

Snipe leapt at the beast.  All around him, bullets were striking, but he didn’t seem to notice of even care. 

Snipe moved to strike the creature high in the face.  The creature move its great apelike arms to grab Snipe. 

Snipe dropped to the ground and with the loudest yell I have ever heard, delivered  a sweeping kick to the things ankles. 

The creatures feet come off the ground. 

The force of our shots started it flipping head first over the railing. 

Snipe grabbed its feet and gave soul wrenching yell of anger and anguish and shoved it the rest of the way over. 

I looked over the railing and watched as the creature flip tail over tea kettle, gaining speed until it vanish from sight. 

A few seconds later we all heard a wet, deep, smacking sound.  Like a watermelon hitting the pavement. 

Snipe stooped down and retrieved Stevil’s fallen shot gun then turn back to look at the rest of us. “ Come on.  We have work to do.” 

Snipe led the way down the stairs. 

As we descended, Stevil’s vacant eye’s watched us pass. 

Scotch.

I smelled scotch.

Good Scotch, and ……..gun oil?

Although my head pounded like a drunken drum circle at faire, I risked opening my eyes.

I was on a cot. Stevil was sitting next to me. He had one of those tin cups that is used for camping. The smell of the scotch was wafting from the cup.

“Look who’s awake.” Stevil said.

“How long have I been out?” I asked.

“Long enough”

“That Scotch?”

“Yup”

I reached out for the cup. Stevil smiled and downed it.

“You may have a concussion, Scotch would not be good for you. I, on the other hand, am in a distressed state, because of my deep caring and sensitive nature. Scotch would be very, very good for me.” He said.

“Bastard.” I whispered, “Where are we?”

” The Gun Shop.” Stevil answered.

I set up and took a look around. There was guns and camping equipment everywhere. Not just your normal “sporting good” guns, but also the “Cutting edge in Chaos Guns”.

“How’d we get here?” I asked.

Stevil answered, “You, were carried. I frolicked. The girls pranced. Robert and Snipe sneaked…Hey Delta! How did you get here.”

In unison the Deltas yell out, “Sir, we scampered, Sir!.

I smiled, “You guys practiced that, huh?”

Stevil smile real big back, “Yeah, Thought you might need a laugh.”

I sat up and Stevil explained that after I had been knocked unconscious the Deltas made a makeshift carrier. There was nearly no trouble at all as they traveled the rest of the way to the Gun Shop.

When we had arrived they found the camping equipment, made me comfortable, then went exploring the shop.

“Where is everyone?” I asked.

“Well, I’m watching over you, Robert and the ladies are shopping for any food and replenishing ammo, Delta is securing the perimeter, and Snipe, Snipe walked off into a section labeled Long Range Weapons and Scopes. I think there was a tear in his eye. He might have been sporting wood too, but I didn’t look too close.”

Just then Snipe re-entered the room.

“You’ll never believe what I found.” Snipe said.

He had a smile pasted to his face, a twinkle in his eye.”

“Oh shit,” I said, “You’re glowing”

“That’s just gross.” Stevil’s said.

Robert’s voice came over the headset, ”Snipe.”

“Go ahead.” Snipe answered.

“Come to the North side of the Building,” Robert said, “You’re gonna love this.”

“On our way.” Snipe answered.

Stevil, Snipe and I made our way through the camping gear, guns and the freeze dried foods until we reached the North side of the store and met up with Robert and the girls.

Robert was standing in front of a huge roll up door.

The ladies were off to the side. They had set up some folding chairs and a table.

The girls were kicking back, sipping port from plastic goblets, snacking on little squares of dark chocolate, and smoking some clove cigarettes.

“Where’d you get the chocolate?” Stevil asked.

Gypsy held up a box labeled “S’MORE’s Kit”, and continued to sip port from the plastic goblet.

“OOO! Can I have the Marshmallows?” Stevil asked.

Gypsy threw him the box and he fished out a small package of fluffy white goodness.

Snipe took the box from Stevil and pulled out a small waxed package of graham crackers.

“You ladies are set up all fancy, ”Snipe said, ”Did you happen to forget the Armageddon occurring all around us?”

Gypsy answered, “Just because the world is going to hell in a hand basket, does no mean that we should lose our grasp of proper décor…decoor….ediqu…edii…manners and talking good.”

Kathy smiled and held up a large family size bag, “I have Cheee-toes.”

“We are having wine and cheese.” Rellie piped in.

“And Chocolate.” Gypsy said.

“And chocolate.” Rellie said.

“How much wine have you ladies had?” Snipe asked.

Kathy held up three fingers and said, ”Four.”

“Four bottles?” Snipe asked.

The girls shook their heads no.

“Four glasses?” Snipe asked, now more puzzled.

They shook their heads again, and with huge smiles on their faces shouted, ”Boxes!”

“Gentlemen,” Stevil said, ”I present to you, The Wino Warrior Women of the Apocalypse.

“Although they are quite entertaining,” Robert said, “They are not why I called you.”

Robert showed us a numeric code pad near the side of the rolling door.

Snipe pulled out a multi-tool from his pocket and went to work. In just a few moments he had the pad off the wall and had hacked it.

On the far side of the door we could here a motor whirl to life and the door began to lift open.

The only thing that would have made it more impressive is if there had been an angel choir singing as the sight on the other side of the door was revealed to us.

For there on the opposite side of the door were two large black Hum-V’s.

On the top of each was a turret equipped with a mini-gun.

The Garage that they were in had another door on the opposite wall, it’s own fueling station and box after box of ammo stacked against another wall.

Snipe spoke into the headset, “Bill?”

“Yes?” Bill from Flying Skirl answered.

“Not you Bill, the other Bill.” Snipe said.

“’Fry Cook 1’ here.” Bill W. answered.

“Uh Yeah, We found the Hummer.” Snipe said.

“Great!,” Bill answered, “Load them up and proceed to Area 51. Delta will stay behind and secure the gun shop.”

“Roger that,” Snipe spoke into the throat mike. Then to the rest of us. “Trey, take the wine away from the ladies and get them into the vehicles. Robert, make sure that both vehicle are fueled up. Pick which one you want to drive. Stevil and I will load the weapons and extra ammo.”

We all got to work and within an hour our tasks were accomplished.

Robert and Gypsy were in one Hummer with myself on the Mini-gun.

Snipe drove the other with Rellie and Kathy as passengers and Stevil on the ‘Mini’.

We all said our good-byes to the Deltas and then Snipe push the garage door opener button located inside the vehicle.

As the roll-up door slowly opened, Stevil and I blazed away on the Mini’s, opening a path as we rode out into the streets.

As we moved out into the street, we heard the reports of small arms fire from the Deltas, and the sound of the door rolling shut.

“Ow, OW, OW!”

As I began to descend, doomed to become deader dinner. Sharp pain suddenly attacked my scalp. Accompanied by a jolt to my neck and shoulders as my downward journey came to an abrupt end.

As it happened my hair, my long, extremely cool, chick magnet hair, got caught in the rollers when I sneezed.

I was now dangling mere feet above the dirty gnarled uplifted hands of the undead below me.

I was afraid to move around much. Afraid any slieght movement would tear my hair out by its roots and send me plummeting down to become a zombie “Hot Pocket”.

“God why are you testing me”, I thought to my self.

As if by cue a voice came over the headset.

“Test.” It was the voice of Bill W, “Test. Hello. Are we reconnected?”

We were all on the same link so the voice was heard by everyone.

Ding’s voice came over the line. “‘Fry Cook 1′, this is ‘Head Waiter’, it seems we have a situation here. The ‘Ham’ is in the ‘Gravy’. I repeat. The ‘Ham’ is in the ‘Gravy’.”

Bill W’s voice came back, ” ‘Head Waiter’, this is ‘Fry Cook 1′. What is the status of the ‘Gravy’?

“The ‘Gravy’ is thick. I repeat the ‘Gravy’ is thick.” Ding answered.

” ‘Head Waiter’, be prepared if the ‘Ham’ gets too close to the ‘Gravy’ you may have to ‘Fry the Bacon’ ” We heard Bill W’s voice say.

“Could you repeat that last order, ‘Fry Cook’” Ding replied.

“Be prepared to ‘Fry the Bacon’. We cannot risk contamination of the entire meal.” Bill answered.

“HELLO!” I shouted into the headset, ” I can hear you.”

I slowly tried to reach above my head and try to grab the roller rail. As I did I felt the rail above me begin to give a little. I felt the rails begin to bend as felt myself being lowered by my own weight. Soon the rails would reach they’re breaking point and I would plummet the rest of the way down.

“Let me try something.” Stevil said.

He pulled a bright colored shell from his bandolier and placed it in the shotgun. He aimed the barrel at the mass below my feet and fired. A huge cone of flame leapt from the shotgun as the Dragons breath round ignited.

The zombies below me went up like briquettes.

Which was not a good thing, because now instead of just the threat of falling into flesh eating zombies. I now had to worry about being slow cooked, then falling into a mass of Flaming flesh eating zombies, and I don’t mean flaming in a slightly uncomfortable gay way either.

Then I heard a snap.

Then I felt weightless.

Episode 28

I heard a loud crack. Then there was a sharp pain around my chest.

“Oh crap,” I thought to myself, “one of my buddies had shot me so I wouldn’t become ‘Deader’ food.”

“This is it.” I thought.

My life began to pass before my eyes. As the memories flooded through my brain I noticed a NC-17 rating in the lower left hand corner of my minds eye.

Some of my memories were really, really good. Luckily I am young…..so I got to watch them twice.

I was in the second showing of my college years when I was jolted back to reality by Kathy’s voice.

“Trey! You idiot. Hold on to the whip!” She yelled at me.

I looked down and to see that Kathy had used a bullwhip and wrapped it around my chest.

I reached to my belt and noticed my whip was gone. I must have dropped it during all the turmoil and Kathy, being the nice person she is, picked it up for me.

Kathy was being aided by Robert and Snipe as she tried to haul me up.

I held on tightly to my end of the whip so that I wouldn’t just spin off.

There was a ripping sound as the Roller Rail fell past me and took a chunk of my hair along with it.

Then I felt weightless again as I shot up into the air. Having been pulled mightily by Robert and Snipe.

I saw myself shoot over the edge to safety.

I tried to right myself so that I could land on my feet.

That didn’t work.

I heard a cracking sound.

And everything was dark and quite.

As the train smoothly moved down the rail, we all took this short time to rest and try to gather our thoughts.

Everyone checked their weapons and magazines to make sure that they were fully loaded and ready to go.

The Deltas stood in a line and checked each others gear, front and back, in a quick efficient manner.

After I was done checking my gear I killed time studying the route map posted on the car wall.

A bright neon green line marked the path of our conveyance. I put a finger to the map and trace our journey.

“Uh, guys..,” I muttered.

“What’s up?” Ding asked.

“We had better get ready for a for a big reception. According this map. The Station we are headed for is at street level.” I answered.

“Can we stop before we get there?” Robert asked.

“Nope,” Peabody chimed in, ”The train is programmed from the Station. I put us on autopilot to the end of the line. And… the doors will open automatically.”

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Rellie cursed.

Stevil piped up all calm and distant, “No use complaining, Let’s get ready to re-kill these bastards.”

Delta moved without speaking and covered the door on their side of the car. The Rennie moved into position on their side.

Stevil checked his weapon and started to move to stand next to his son.

“Where are you going?” Snipe said. His voice concerned.

“I am going to watch my sons back.” Stevil said. His voice deepened. His eyes boring a hole in his best friend.

Amran shot Snipe a worried glance that his father didn’t see.

“What do you think we are doing here?” Snipe implored, “The Deltas are pros and have that door covered. We have to hold this door to make sure no one sneaks up behind them and literally bites them in the ass. Besides you have the street howitzer.”

Stevil pause, smiled, “ I’m your huckleberry” and moved in to place with the rest of the Rennies.

We all looked out the windows at the mass of ‘Deaders’ below, the sway of they’re shambling strides making them reminiscent of great fields of wheat on a windy day.

The moans of the ‘Deaders’ grew louder as the monorail began it’s decent.

The tension was thick as the car slowed to a stop and the doors “whooshed” open.

What happen next is very hard to describe. There was so much happening all at one time.

I remember the doors opening.

I remember Stevil firing off a ’flachette’ round that blew off the heads of three Zombies in the front and badly shredded another.

I remember hearing Snipes voice shouting, “Move! Move! Stay Tight!”

I remember Roberts long arms reaching over my shoulder, Uzi in hand as he dispatched ’Deaders’ while I reloaded.

I remember Stevil firing and reloading with the speed and dexterity known only to the purveyors of the sleight of hand arts. All the time smiling and yelling, “ You ain’t no Daisy.”

Several times Snipe had to grab Stevil by the belt and pull him back to the group, to keep him from wandering off into whatever scene was running through his damaged mind.

In what was less than a minute, yet seemed like hours, we formed up again with Delta.

Robert, the tallest, could see over most of the throng that surrounded us, “ There’s a ’Mom and Pop’ store to our right. High barred windows.”

“Let’s go for it” Amran cried.

The Delta’s formed a wedge and started driving toward the shop.

The Rennies, no slouches ourselves, formed our own wedge as we walked backward completing a diamond shaped formation.

We got to the door of the Mom & Pop, Gordo quickly jimmied the lock and gained entrance.

Once inside we all nearly collapsed.

“Nice moves out there.” said Rico, “ we learned the diamond formation at ’Banning’. Where did you guys pick it up.

“We, have watched, ’The 300’ at least five times each.” Kathy said with a smile.

“This is Sparta!” The Rennies all shouted.

I got carried away and fired a few rounds into the ceiling, “ Oops, Sorry.”

Amran patted the guys from Delta on the shoulder and motion for them to get moving, “You all take a breather, We will search the building for other exits.”

With that, they exited through some swinging double doors at the back of one of the aisles.

Standing in front of the entrance, Robert said, “Now wha..”

Before he could finish what he was saying, a grey hand, smashed though the Painted glass pane of the door.

Robert tried to jump free but the creature had grabbed a handful of his long trademark hair.

“ow, Ow, OW,” Robert yelled.

The ladies maneuvered into position.

Snipe and I grabbed Robert by his legs and pulled so hard that he was lifted parallel to the ground.

Stevil unplugged the ice machine next to the door and was pushing with all his might.

“I can’t get a shot.” Kathy yelled.

The ice machine slowly began to move as Stevil grunted with effort.

“No Fucking way.” Rellie said, as she just walked up to the door, shoved her arm through the broken glass, placed the barrel of her pistol to the forehead of the ’Deader’ holding Robert , and pulled the trigger.

The ’Deader’ dropped, and as it did it let loose of Robert.

Since Snipe and I were still pulling on his legs. He came flying on top of us.

“Thanks for breaking my fall guys.” Robert said.

We heard a loud grunt.

“Little help!” Stevil said as he continued to push the heavy ice machine in front of the door to block the way.

The three of us, Snipe, Robert and myself jumped up to give him a hand as the ladies dispatched any Zombie that tried to put it’s arm though the broken glass of the door.

Episode 26

Delta called out from the back room that they had found a stair case going to the roof. We followed their lead and went to the top of the building.

On the roof we looked down upon the flowing mass of the dead. The moaning and groaning assaulting our ears like the crooning of the Mormon Undead tabernacle choir.

In the distant we could see the gun shop that was our destination. If we could get across the alleyway to the roof of the next building, we would be able to hop from roof top to roof top and avoid the throngs of undead beneath us.

As we tried to figure out a way across the alley, Stevil and Snipe re-entered the store below.

I checked to see if my whip would reach all the way across so that maybe we could swing across but it was too short.

Delta suggested that they could throw Rellie across then she could tie a rope on to something.

“No way” Rellie said, “Why Me?”

” Because you are Petite, yet powerful.” Peabody answered.

“I’ll show you petite” Rellie said as she stood toe to toe with the young soldier.

As if to break up the argument, we heard a metal banging sound as Snipe and Stevil came up the stairs and dropped four metal roller tracks. The roller tracks were the kind used to unload stock from trucks in to the store rooms of stores. One end would be put in the truck then the tracks are put together like pieces of a slot car track to get the desired length. The product is then set on the track and rolls into the store room and is pulled off at the proper spot.

While everyone just stood around scratching their heads trying to figure out what they were doing. Stevil and Snipe put the tracks together and slid them across the alleyway to the roof across the street.

“Oh hell no.” Robert said, “You don’t expect us to slide across on that flimsy thing do you?”

To be honest Robert had a point. The middle of the make shift slid sagged dangerously in the middle.

Snipe disappear back into the store below.

“I say the Petite one goes first.” Reco said, looking down at Rellie.

“Gypsy’s smaller than me!” Rellie said.

“Dinger’s thin and long and will have better weight placement.” Gypsy piped in.

“Don’t look at me!” I said, “I’m too good looking.”

As this was going on, Snipe returned from below with two large metal baking sheets. He handed one to Stevil, then held the other one to his chest and ran full bore at the Roller Track.

Snipe leapt into the air and landed squarely on the track and like a rocket he slid quickly across the expanse.

Stevil followed right behind him and flew across the rollers.

Stevil’s adrenalin must have been high because when he reached the other side he was airborne as he flew off the other end and hit Snipe square in the chest.

“Thanks for breaking my fall.” Stevil said

Snipe just coughed and tried to get his breath back.

They threw the metal sheets back over to us and we started the exodus across the rollers.

For some reason I was the last to cross.

I held the cool metal sheet against my chest and took a deep breath and pushed off launching myself over the mass of flesh eater below.

I was about two thirds of the way across when calamity happened.

I sneezed.

Now sneezing in itself is not bad.

Sneezing as you’re sliding across small metal rollers and losing you balance above a flesh eating zombie hoard is.

The next thing I knew I was in mid air. From the corner of my eye I could see the Roller Track pass by my head as I started down.

Episode 22

The report of Snipes rifle could be heard above the deafening moans as shot after shot took their toll on the feathery fiends that feasted on our friend.

Ding, Gordo and Peabody’s weapons also added their concussion to the chaotic cadence of calamity reigned down upon the undead.

Just as all hope was lost, Reco came flying up in a cloud of feathers and sparkly stripper dust.

He landed on a cross beam next to Gordo, who immediately began to check him over for wounds.

Reco was about to get a clean bill of health when Gordo discovered a bite sized hole on Reco’s left forearm.

“Shit” Gordo said as he pulled his sidearm and pointed it at his buddy.

“Whoa! Whoa! Wait, check it out.” Reco said pulling back his sleeve to reveal a genuine ‘Leather Mystic’ Bracer. “I found them in the RV and thought they were cool so I put them on.”

“Kevlar, Smevlar” Robert said, “Once again LEATHER saves the day.”

Over the headsets Rellies voice could be heard, “Houston, we have a problem, look down.”

The base of the tower was completely surrounded by zombies. The mass was so large that they were crushing themselves against the tower and the surrounding buildings.

The crushed bodies were forming a ramp of undead flesh that the deaders were beginning to climb.

The Renaissance Raiders rained red hot retribution from the high metal rails as the Deltas formed up on Ding.

From small back pouches on their belts they produced two fragmentation grenades apiece.

Peabody took the monofilament wire from his ‘Fly rod’ and looped it around the pin of each grenade, spacing them approx 25′ apart.

Gordo adjusted the pins so that they would pull easier.

From a leg pouch Reco assembled an M203 grenade launcher and attached it to his M16.

He did it PDQ and ASAP.

“Everyone climb as high as you can.” Ding cried out.

We all scurried higher.

Reco loaded the end grenade into the launcher. Took careful aim, and fired toward the base of the Tower and the swarming mass of Undead the were gathered there.

The grenade flew out the end of the tube with a deep ‘Tooke’ sound. The other grenades on the wire followed strung out like lights on a Christmas strand. The end Grenade nearly reached the ground when the wire ran out of slack. That caused the flying whip of explosives to wrap around the leg of the tower.

Reco pulled the wire taunt and the pins came flying out of their resting places.

In a matter of moments the Deaders below were vaporized. Along with the leg of the tower.

As we climbed higher the tower began to lean, slowly but surely it started to fall toward the ground.

If we could make it to the top, we would land on the other side of the casino and out of harms way.

So climb we did.

Well at least most of us.

Stevil was still unconscious.

The Tower made a deep metallic groan as it slowly began to topple.

The ladies, being much more agile than the guys, bounded gracefully from beam to beam.

Their leather dusters billowing out behind them as they lead the way toward the observation deck that crowned the tower.

Ding and Snipe made eye contact. No words were spoken but they communicated none the less.

Snipe flung the Sniper Rifle to Ding. In the same instant Ding threw his ‘fly rod’ to Snipe.

Ding headed up the Tower.

Snipe shot the ‘Fly rod’ hook at an angle that would allow him to swing down toward Stevil.

I quickly assessed what was going on. So I Slung the SKS over my shoulder and headed to Stevil.

I don’t want to brag but….

Okay, I really do want to brag. I am not called the Professional Showoff for nothing. As the Tower moaned, creaked, shimmied and shook, I bounded from beam to beam like Toby Maguire in Spiderman 1,2,AND 3.

Snipe and I got to Stevil at the same time. We put an arm over each shoulder and ran like hell.

The Tower was no longer vertical, but second by second becoming more horizontal.

We reached the observation deck just as the tower touched the roof of the casino and came to a stop as it went through the roof and ate down the walls.

The sudden stop threw most of us against the heavy metal beams.

The ladies leaped off the falling structure like ninjas. They rolled as they landed and came up shooting.

Soon the few deaders that were in the small side street had been dealt with.

Delta formed a protective perimeter as Snipe and I lowered Stevil to the ground.

Dinger took the canteen from his belt and sprinkled water on his dad’s face.

“Huh, What?” he sputtered.

“You hit your head and knocked yourself out Dae.” Ding said.

“Knocked myself ou….Holy Crap! Who broke the tower?” Stevil said wide eyed.

“OO Rah!” Cried Delta in unison.

We slowly made our way east.

The ladies took point this time, as Delta watched our six.

Robert, Snipe and I helped Stevil, whose legs were still abit wobbly.

When we got to the end of the street we saw the Monorail Station. If was a two story affair. The office and ticket booth on the first story and the train itself up above.

We head for the loading area as Peabody entered the Office and hot wired the Program.

As we reached the landing, the lights of the train flickered to life and the doors slid smoothly open. We all enter followed soon by Peabody. When he was through the door he pressed a button on a little devise in his hand and the door slid shut and the hum of the electric motor could be heard as the monorail started gently down the tracks.

There was music playing, “Only the good die young” by Billy Joel.