69) Super Sunday, 2/19: 6:00
AM and After… “Because We’re Americans?”
The pilot of the great, Black Hawk chopper, Captain Rausch,
circled the One World Mall, desperately peering out onto a vista of desolation,
chaos and fire. He turned to his
co-pilot and Navigator, Lieutenant Mabry, saying…
“Any luck trying
to raise LeeBee?”
“Trying,” Mabry
echoed. “Nothing. Haven’t heard from the local
commander… fella by the name of Capps… since a quarter to five. Parking lot’s full of bogeys… must be five
hundred hostiles ‘round the place and they don’t look too happy…”
“How do you know
they’re hostiles?” Captain Rausch squinted.
A cantaloupe came
arching through the smoke, a bullet pinged off the underside of the chopper,
“Maybe more than we oughta
take on…” Mabry considered.
Rausch glanced
back into the belly of the Hawk. Ten
fully-armed Screaming Eagles were waiting expectantly, weapons at hand, the
prospect of combat pungent in the air as smoke from the burning mall. He turned back, glancing out the side window,
pointed…
“Looks like a
bunch of people on the roof, I count four… oh shit, there’s all sorts of bogeys
coming through that other door… whattya think?” He lifted binoculars to his eyes.
“Recognize any of those four…” Mabry
questioned.
“Don’t look like ours,” the Captain
deduced. “Might be...”
“Can’t see… they’re
civilians. One of ‘em looks hurt,
might be Sonny if he’s wearing that idiot toupee,” Mabry snorted, derisively,
“… there’s also a woman…”
The Captain licked his lips. “Giga-Grrrl?”
“Not dressed like one.
Might be… we don’t go down there, they gotta
life expectancy of about five minutes…” the Lieutenant guessed.
Captain Rausch made up his mind.
“They might possess information.
We’re goin’ in… open the hatch and have the
boys ready to rumble…”
“If it ain’t Sonny…”
More gunfire pockmarked the Black Hawk...
“We extract what they know and toss ‘em back into Hell. Boo yah!…”
Beneath, Tom, Westy, and Kristi waved
frantically towards the big, black bird with the Screaming Eagles logo as
zombies at the north end of the burning mall fanned out, staggering
forward. Two more sections of roof
collapsed into incandescent flames – the southwest corner above Mad Sam’s
Steakhouse and a smaller section to the north, above where the chocolatíer had provided a delicious grave for Jack Gobelman. As the
Hawk settled down on the middle of the roof, they raced towards the copter; Westy and Tom helping Kristi drag a befuddled David Lee
forward across the melting tar. Rausch
opened his window to face General Westmoreland Soames.
“We’re here to
pick up Big Sonny Sonnenschein…” the Captain said,
Westy shook his head.
“He’s dead. I saw him go…”
“Shit!” Rausch clenched a fist, pounded the
dashboard. “What about Faubourg, Fred Faubourg… big
fellow, suit and tie. Captain Lester
Capps? The Giga-Grrrlz…
Jarlo Knupp?”
More gunfire passed
over their heads.
“Still down
there,” said Tom Eppert. “Maybe. Think some of the girls got out of Giga-Plex, after that…”
He shrugged. Behind them, automatic gunfire erupted as the
Screaming Eagles in the belly of the Hawk returned fire - mowing down the
vanguard of an advancing zombie army.
The remainder, some still clutching their loot, some abandoning it,
scarpered back towards the fiery portal, dodging more sections of roof as they
collapsed. Or not.
“S’a no go, Captain…” Mabry shook his head, “better abort,
and quick. Place is gonna do a World
Trade Center any moment, now!”
“Fuck! OK, we’re aborting…” Rausch turned to his
navigator. “Tell the guys to close the
hatch and hang on…”
“You’re just
gonna leave us here?” Tom protested.
“You’re not gonna let us on?”
“Why?”
Kristi Chaine reached into her purse for a badge that she held
against the window. “Because I am
Manager of the Research Division, Federal Communications Commission, and, since
Mr. Cooth also perished recently, acting FCC
Manager? Which makes Mr. Lee, here,
interim Research Manager. We’re
important people…”
“Because we’re
Americans?” Westy added, as David rubbed a smear of
blood from his head and blinked…
“Citizens?” Tom
appealed…
“Well… alright,
Lou, give ‘em a minute, only the government personnel – you others can’t get
in, no ride…” the pilot warned Kristi, “better leave those two lame-os behind and I’ll forget that part about the FCC…”
“We’re not leaving anyone behind…” Kristi disagreed, and Tom
and Westy shook their heads in partisan concord.
Pilot and
navigator looked at one another… looked out across the abomination of the desolation…
looked at one another again.
“Stop arguin’, then, and start hustlin’…”
Mabry shot back, then picked up his com, “…hold it on
the door a minute, back there…”
The three
survivors dragged David around to the side of the Hawk where two Screaming Eagles
pulled him into the copter. As the
others exchanged fire with the last of the howling zombies, Tom and Westy pushed Kristi up then vaulted into the belly of the
bird as it lifted off… seconds before the entire midsection of the One World
Mall collapsed into a pit of fire and screaming, cursing looters. Rolling across the floor of the Hawk, clothes
in scorched tatters and head bleeding profusely, David looked up, asking
Kristi…
“So… you wanna catch the game at my place tonight?”
And, as the One
World Mall imploded entirely, flames knifing through the first pink and purple
shadows of the dawn, the Black Hawk soared off into the night.
¾ ¾ ¾ ¾ ¾ ¾ ¾ ¾ ¾ ¾ ¾
VISIT THESE OTHER GENERISIS SERIAL ABOMINATIONS…
THE GOLDEN DAWN BLACK HELICOPTERS
THE INSURGENCE
of CHAN SANTA CRUZ!