Three men in blue teal outfits. They step threw high tech hallways past varyous high level personel. Video cameras track them as they approach a large metal slideing bolt of a door. Captain Taylor Hanneck, the leader of the first six month moon orbit on a solar powered ship no less. Taylor is a tall crew cut blonde with steel blue eyes. He makes loads of money and he wears expensive scents from all across the known universe. Beside him struts Tom Evans, almost as tall as Hannack. Tom was a real heart throb football hero in high school before he took a job with the space lab. Behind them is Paul Shrek a thin nervous looking man with receding black hair. Paul reeks of tobacco and his mind is a thousand worried elsewheres.
They walk into a large room as the door automatically opens for them. Here they meet the sinister looking Brent Mirk. Brent wrings his hands, they are thickly coated with vasoline. Seated beside Mirk is Professer Dawson Wells, a famous space designer and the inventer of the cordless extintion cord. Brent scowls at the forms he holds in his hands. "You where all hoping for a nice mission on mars but instead its going to be a emerancy mission out to space station 23".
Smiffden Orlots drove down the silent highway with his wife Clara. Country music twanged from the stock stereo. Clara lit up another ciggy , long happy drags , she seemed so content when she smoked , like an old indian stareing at the road through a white woman's eyes. As long you she smoked the world could burn away to nothing and she would just stare ahead in contentment. Smiff didn't know if he should love her or punch her. They were crossing the moaning desert , it took up a vast part of new Nevada. Smifiden used to read western gunboy novels that used this desert as a back drop , mostly because the indians belived it to be haunted by evil spirits. They had not seen another car on the road for six hours . We've heard country music for the last two hours , how about some classical for awhile?" , Clara asked. "Classical sucks" , Smiffden told her firmly , he then turned up the radio a couple nothces. "Oh , is that because classicists don't fuck cows?" , inquired Clara with a smirk.But Smiff couldn't hear her , he was Jammin to Davis Froth , a new ex model from calirfornea now turned country and western sensation. "Mess with us it's a bomb up your ass!" , Smiff sang along merrily. Clara wondered again why she married this man , must be the sixty g he pulls in a year , that and his awesome cock , very pretty , it should put out a country record. Clara lit up yet another cigerette and disapeared in smoke. As they ascended a steep rolling hill the car began to sputter , it died and the car rolled backwards to the bottem of the hilll. "Fuck" , said Smiff. Without the air condiitioner the car instantly began to heat up. Smiffden got out and checked under the hood. Clara changed the radio over to a classical station and Bach's harpsicord prelude number 322 and a half began playing. She grinned a little at this and didn't even light up a ciggy just yet. Smiffden knew it was bad , the engine had melted from the desert heat , it was all flattend and droopy. "Fucking fuck" , Smiff said. Sweat was rolling off Clara by now , the radio broke into local news. More murdered bodies found in the desert , the twelve and thirteenth so far this year. A virus out break at a near by indian reservaton leaves ten dead so far , and thirty seriously ill. No rain expected for another three weeks. Smiff went to her window and frowned at her shakeing his head.
"Were fucked" , he updated her. "fucked?" , she repeated testing the implications of that in her head. "fucked". he confirmed. They got cold drinks from the cooler , a golden montana beer for Smiffden , and Grape winterberry soda for Clara. They decide the only thing to do is start walking. Smiffden holds the cooler and Clara brings a couple cases of cigerettes for the day and a half if no one comes down that road sort of a walk. Smiff bummed a cig off his wife and smoked it with trembling hands. It was one hundred degrees out and very dry. Along thier walk they find beside the road a dryed up husk of a baby someone had thrown out , looks like it crawled a little ways before death took it. They said nothing , just threw their cigerettes into the sand and then moved on grimly. It took Clara thirty five minutes to pull out another ciggy , she lit it and puffed deeply. "Nice fuckin vacation honey , I'm glad you insisted on crossing the desert to go gambling our retirement away rather than to Colorado to hang in a beautifull mountaintop cabin. That would have sucked!" , Clara said sarcastically. "Fuck off" , he countered. Smiff went over to the center of the road for a piss on the yellow line. She hated him even as she gazed at his fantastic penis. What an alpha male asshole , sometimes she wished she was with some faggoty sensitive guy , even if he would make a fourth of what Smiffden pulls in , and fuck like an automaton. They walked on in silence for three more hours , then then took a break and drank another soda each. Clara lit up two ciggys while they rested and offered Smiff none.Then they got up and started walking again , deeper and deeper accross the legendary moaning desert , they could even hear the wind comeing up. Soon they would hear the voice like wails it made spooking the indians so long ago. The couple glared at each other every now and then but still said nothing. They walked three more hours and evening was setting in."Maybe we should find some sort of shelter and sleep before it gets too dark to see anything" , Smiff subjested. "Sure , lets have a soda and get started" , Clara agreed. They each fished out a soda from the melted ice in the cooler , they were getting real low of soad by now and it didn't look good. "Hell , lets sleep close as we can to the road , maybe even on it" , was Smiff's new idea. "Whatever" , Clara said pleasantly as she lit up her evening fix. She blew smoke high into the desert air as she nursed from the warm cola can. They lay on the shoulder , of the road , too tired and sunburned to make "love". They slept for seven hours , no insects disturbed them , a half dried out turtle came by and sniffed Smiffden's shoes and then moved on.Smiff woke up and had a soda , he nabbed one of Clara's cigs and smoked it. He waited twenty minutes after finishing the smoke and then shook her awake.
Mack Tobes grinded his teeth in rage, damn those french babies, drinking milk that should be given to decent american babies. We should go to iraaq, and kill all the adults there to avenge pearl harber. He washed his guts with another beer , all the while his teeth made that nasty grinding sound. Mack knew the only solution was to kill everyone who was not american, thats what Jesus would want. He would go there and smash the sand nigs himself if he wasn't manager of slurpy treats and tire service He cheered for the home team and hated who ever the media and Rush Limbuagh told him to hate.
World war three came and went in a quick flash. Three weeks of tension and prepareing for a war that burst out and killed nearly the entire human race. The radiation melted some places while germ warfare and chemcals made other places unlivable. At the end of two days of all out warfare an airplane carrying two hundred people went down onto a tropical island. Most of the passengers where dead , or died within two days of the wreck. Five people survived on the island. What they didn't know , but maybe suspected deep in their hearts was they where the last five.
Tessie Harth. A collage white girl whose parents sent her away on the plane hoping she may survive the insane war. Hair of blonde , cool green eyes. Full lips and skinny body. Small breasts under tight cotten shirt.
Mindy Clish. A thrity year old generation x-er. Hangs out at raves has brilliantly dyed red hair and black mock leather pants. She had dreams that the end was near and saw her self burning screaming. She fled on this plane ride.
Paul Caine. Ex marine, Paul fought in the gulf war and came out with no permanant damage and a attitude. He sat next to Tessie on the plane ride. Talking her up with self condidant smiles , trying to touch her legs. She resisted his seduction attempts and had no phone number to give him. If that even mattered now. But Paul was far from giving up. She was his.
Beth Eckors. Yet another white girl. This one kinda cute in a shy intellectual way. A young scientist with a cute ass. Paul had talked to her also and gotten her cell phone number. The phones went down during the blasting attacks though. Beth thought Caine might be worth a shag but then she would thrown him away as soon as he annoys her. And that couldn't take long.
Ted Akten. A serial killer with a heart of stone. He was coming down this way smuggling the last of his drugs up his ass. He eyed Pual suspiciously from the very start.
So there they where with not much more than some airplane peanuts and varyous drinks to salvage and remind them of civaliation. Paul let it be known right off that he was the boss. He then bragged for twenty minutes about his war heroism and how he was born to lead. Beth seemed to be buying it , but everyone else looked suspicous. In his heart Paul had never known such joy. Lots of fine pussy to rock at night and the leadership of his own island. He subjested they search for the body of the spy marshall , for he would have a gun or other weapon. All agreed , although some for thier own reasons to give it a search. They Took the plane apart looking round. They combed the beach , the trees , they swam and waded. Most found only sharp jagged steel and body parts. Ted found the gun. He aimed it at Caine and pulled the trigger. But the trigger wouldn't pull. Some fingerprint match-up safety device was installed on it. He was going to need the guard's finger for this one. Ted put the gun in his pocket and searched the guard furthur. A high powered stun gun! Very nice. He swam around awhile longer but never had a witnesslesss chance to zap Caine and drown him while he was stunned. So Ted came up finally waving the hand gun. He had concealed the stun gun and hoped some one could hack the hand gun and then he could get his hands on it. Everyone rushed over to Ted who smiled his best "I'm making my effort for the group" smile. Pual reached out and snatched it from Ted's hand.