Three men in blue teal outfits. They step threw high tech hallways past various high level personnel. Video cameras track them as they approach a large metal sliding 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 blond 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 inventor 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 emergancy 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. "Where am I?" ,she said , her voice full of sleep and confusion. Clara sat up and looked around at the night desert , her memory rapidly returned and she frowned. She fished out a cigerette to start her day. Then a soda , there was two each left , and a long dry way to go. They walked on and on as the temperature slowly rose. The next soda round went two and a half hours later , the couple was tired and parched already. Sweat poured off of them , makeing clothes cling to fine gym hardend bodies. Clara's nipples stood out due to the soaked shirt , nice shaped nipples , real award winner material. Then they could hear a vehicle comeing from ahead , a vehcile! They gaathered by the road and waited. A old rusted out pickup came down the road , they waved to it and it slowed and stopped. A forty something year old man with wild faded brown hair and a beard grinned at the couple. "You two look thirtsty!" , said the voice behind the grin. "Yeah , our car broke down a few miles back" , croaked Smiffden through a leathery throat. "Well I don't have enought gas to go to town , but my cabins just five miles from here , a cold beer for the mister , and maybe some sweet tea for the ladies" ,. the grey eyed man offered. He looked like he had spent his life bakeing in the desert. The couple nodded thier heads and climbed inside the old clanking truck. Clara took the outside window side edge and lit up a cigerette. The truck was bumpy and smelled of stale beer farts.The truck looked like it had been kicked around for thirty years , neither Smiff or Clara thought it would actually make it to the man's shack. Smiffden gazed at the dashboard , the speedometer , gas guage and in fact everything on the dash was out of order. "How are you gonna get gas to the truck if you don't have enough to get to town?", Smiffden asked the man. "A gas truck goes by every four months to till my tank" , the man explained. "And how long till the next fill?" , Smiff pressed.
"About three weeks" , the man grinned , like it was an exciteing thing to have happen. The man broke into a spasm of coughing and nearly left the road before regaining himself and driveing on. After about four miles the truck bumped off the road onto what appeared to be a unused dirt road that had mostly been taken back by the desert. Smiffden and Clara began getting a little paranoid at this point. "Nother fifteen minutes and we'll be there!" , the man promised. On the truck bumped at one point passing a van that was burned out and laying on it's side. Smiff and Clara looked at eachother alarmed but said nothing. They came within sight of the shack , a leaning wreck of brittle looking wood. Endless stones formed a three foot wall on each side of the road , dude must have spent years makeing it. A locked gas tank on a rusted metal frame tower stood in the front yard. The man pulled into the yard beside an older more rusted out truck that looked about fifteen years dead . He twisted and removed the key and the enigine knocked sputtered and died. "My names Ed Finduncle , at your service" , the man held out a hand for Smiffden to shake. Smiff shook the man's hand and about had his hand crushed in the process. A painfull grip designed to show off dude's superior strength. But why was that nessicery? Everyone got out of the truck and stood again on the desert ground. Clara whipped out a cig and lighter as fast as a gun fighter. The smoke seemed to irritate Ed , his eyes redend and he stepped back from his looming handshake with her. "Come on in for a cold drink!" , said Ed. Smiffden and Clara followed him into his dark tiney home. Three nineteen seventies era fans blew the hot air about the place. Ed went over to the refrigerator and opened it up. Clara caught a glimpse of things wrapped in foil and lots of drinks , from what little the big man didn't block. Ed spun around with a cold pepsi and a golden Montana long neck for Smiffden. The couple smiled and accepted their gifts , popping top pulling cap and drinking. The cold drinks seemed like heaven to the couple and they smiled to eachother. "So what do you do for a liveing Mr. Finduncle?" , asked Smiff after he had finished two thirds of his beer. "I gather up relics from the desert and sell them. You know , arrow heads , old automoble parts , old west doo dads." Ed sipped his own beer , another Golden Montana , he belched lowly. "How many people do you normally see travaling through here" , Clara asked the man with a voice age reversed from the cold drink , no more croaking crackleing talk fro her. "I'd say someone drives by here on an average of once every other day to a maximum of two passers by a day". Ed stared at Clara while talking now , a rather lustfull stare. "Another beer?" , Ed asked. Both Clara and Smiff accepted and smiff caught another glimpse of the foil wrapped things in the foul smelling fridge.
"How long of a walk into town is it?" , asked Smiff. "Well , with the uphill climbs , and heat and the constant curves in the road , I'd say go would have a day and a half , if you walk fourteen hours a day" , Ed considered. "That is if you survive the intence sun and the human prediters that hang out in this lawless desert!" , Ed laughed. "Huh?" , grunted Smiff and Clara on cue. "Yeah the killers of the desert , sometimes they come out and hunt for people in the cities , but more often in the desert itself , because it's so easy there" , said Ed with a twinkle in his eyes. "Bodys are found every year in the desert". "Well we better get a move on then" , said Smiff before gulping down the rest of his beer bottle. "Yeah , lets go get started" , Clara agreed. "But you haven't finsihed your beer, lady" , Said Ed. Clara tipped it up and chugged it. The brew went to her head and she felt suddenly tipsy. As the couple began backing out with tingleing spider sences Ed grinned and said " Surely you could use some lunch , all that walkin hour after hour is hard work , builds an appitite". Ed manorevered himself to block thier exit. "Now listen man , we really need to go , and we are not hungry at all , we pigged out along the way on all our snacks we had brought along" , Smiff lied. "Yes we get going, this is more of a delay than we can afford at this point", Said Clara. "Alright then, can I bum a cigerette before you go?", Ed asked Clara. "Sure", Clara handed him one, looking kinda unhappy to be doing so, but whatever gets them out of here without furthur delay, o k . Clara handed the creepy man a cig, and he put it in his shirt pocket. "And one more thing, to walk through the desert during the day is pretty much a form of suicide, the heat will bake you dryer than old leather", Ed informed them with a grin. "Well maybe we should hang out here till nitefall", reasoned Clara's stupid man.
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.
Ronald Juliet Glenn seethed with confused hatred, he hated the weather men of Kansas, he knew they were polluting the rivers. The cable man stole his pills, and Ronald didn't even have cable, how unfair! Somebody had to pay, he found the phone book, took off all his clothes. spank his own butt and held his nose, he opened to a random page to find who deserved to feel his rage. His finger rested on an ad for Neil's auto service, foreign and domestic, it claimed. Ronald jotted down the address and phone number and grinned like a devil boy on dope. He called the number, it place had been open three minutes, they were ready for his complaint. "Hello Neil's auto, this is Ricardo, how may I help you?". "You can fuck off and die you ant shit!" , Ronald said focuseing all his hatred into it, then he slammed down the phone. That felt good, late tonite he is going to pay the business a visit, see what damage he can do.
Mack sent a check to Rush Limbaugh, forty five dollars from a fan, to keep up the good fight. Mack felt good about doing the right thing, he will feel more self rightous when he harrasses that faggot at work tommorow. That faggot should go suck an explodeing dick, let his head dissolve in red running fluid, running down the wall. Mack worked at the mint packing mint, but his co worker was a fudge packer. Mack gathered up a couple beers from the fridge. Some people would only grab one beer at a time, pussys. Two beers, then if need be and trip for two more, etc. Mack had a video tape collection covering hours of footage about the war. He wished he had started this a couple of wars ago. At least he will be ready for the next war of arabs comeing soon. A nice big balony cheese, pickles, lettuce and lots of mayo on plain white bread sandwich, yum yum.
James Miles watched the neighborhood with field glasses and at night, his high tech night vision goggles. He had his home broken into once but would never again. Never.
Ronald waited till midnight, passing the time with a bottle of whiskey and a couple cups of steaming coffee. He was ready for revenge, the key nutriant of the spirit. What keeps souls healthy, what makes the world go round. He took a drive down to Neil's auto and pulled up into a near by side street. Ronald got out with a couple items clutched in his arms. In black clothes and moveing stealthily he planted the explosive device under the new Patriot car, a six seater, with build in g p s and solor powdered air conditioning to keep the car tolerable when parked all day at work. He snuck out of there tittering to himself, this should hurt business a bit around two p m tommorow. He drove back home, fixed a hot chocolate and went to sleep smileing. He woke up eight a m the next morning. It was going to be a good day today, he could feel it. It drank a glass of orange juice, and washed it down with a slice of buttered toast. Mack had to get a new tire today, he was driveing on a donut sytle spare and it didn't make him look very successfull. Appearance is everything after all.He drank a couple of beers for a mild buzz and drove to Neil's auto listening to country music on the radio. Mack went threw the Mcdonald's drive through and got rewarded with a big mac, a large coke and some hot salty frys. He ate a few of the frys as he finished his drive, nice, salted grease makes the tummy happy.
James Miles worked at the airport, he didn't like it anymore. They still allowed arabs and hippys to get on planes, even after sept 11. Fools! He wanted a security job, he could tell all those lowlife insects to go away, no flight for them. he could search the hippys and sieze their drugs, replaceing the drugs with prison terms.
Mack checked the stereo clock, 1:49, he pulled into the lot.
James ate a sourbread and baloni sandwich with loads of mayo. He had a smoke and a pepsi. It just made sense to James to kick out all colored people from America, including the native americans. Just keep the people that belong here and things would go much smoother.
Mack parked his ride and walked around the lot, checking out the new wheels, all shiny and bright.
Ronald got in his car and headed down to the car place, he wanted to see it happen, to be driving by as that car explodes into a scorching fireball, spreading glass and metal fragments in every direction. The first time he cruised slowly by the place on niacin street nothing happened, the lot had about three customers wandering about checking out the cars. Ronald rounded the block for a second drive by. This time as he drove it happend! A sudden deep bass explosion , a sound wave like being punched.
James slept in on his day off, he had stayed up late last night, watching for bad people. He was nearly rocked out of his bed by the explosion. He jumped to his feet, what the hell was that? He ran outside in his spider man pajammas. Their was smoke riseing from the car dealship down the street.
As Mack was looking at a 2003 patriot, with lots of gold and silver designs along with it's trademark red white and blue their was a deafening explosion behind him, the force of it smacked him hard face first into the driver side window. Debre cut him as he fell to the pavement. He heard someone crying out in pain as he lay there, hurt and confused. He heard flames and he backed away, still deaf and semi-conscious.
Ronald pulled on some faded jeans,put on his don't mess with the U S shirt and ran over there. He could here someone crying out in pain, maybe he could get there in time to catch whoever has done this.
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.
"As your leader I shall use this gun to defend the island from enemies", Paul explained. "Who made you our dictator?" , asked Ted , already knowing that Paul has to die and if possible with as much pain and humiliation as fits. Both men kept checking out Tessie , she was soaking wet, the white cotten shirt mostly see through , they could easily make out her nipples, from close enough they could make out bumps and pebbles of raised nipple flesh. These men were hard and throbbig. Both with nine and a half ince weapons in thier pants. "What now?" , Mendy asked. "Lets search the island before dark , Mendy , you go with Ted here and you two go with me and we can find the best shelter and if anyone else is on the island" , Paul told everyone. "Sure whatever your fucking highness" , Ted said salutteing him with a extended finger. The two stared coldly at each other for a few seconds then Ted motioned for Mindy to follow him. He found it more convient to ahve only one tag along becuase he needed to rescue his dope from his ass real soon and needed the most privacy he could get.
Paul toyed with the gun, trying to fiqure out how to get around the finger print mechanism. Beth walked beside him, and Tessie was a bit behind them, self consciouss by now of all the stares her small bra-less breasts were getting. Beth was getting kinda friendly with him, the two of them dominated the conversation, Tessie was quiet in the background. Paul pointed out varyous berrys and leaves that he thought might be edible. He talked with bold authority and subconscioussly his voice had increased in volume and dropped in pitch. "What do you think is happening out there in the world?", asked Beth. "America is kicking ass and takeing names, we will soon re-establish order and it's going to be a new order. A militery government under constant martial law, the best is yet to come", Paul said dreamily. Beth patted his shoulder and said "Some dream".Paul smiled a wide warm "we're all Americans here" smile.
Mindy and Ted walked awhile in awkward silence. "Don't you think that Paul is kinda of a hitleristic asshole?", Ted asked her. "Yes he thinks he owns the world"., said Mindy.
"I need to go off somewhere alone for a bit", said Tessie as she walked into the jungle away from Beth and Paul. Tessie waked a good distance and pulled down her jeans and underwear.
Ted thought he could sence some jealousy in Mindy, jealous that she was asigned to walk with him while the other two were with Pual.
Tessie long a long piss in the woods. She was kinda glad to be away from those two for a bit, before they started frenching in front of her. Paul was a creep and at least he was focuseing on Beth for now. Ted seemed kinda creepy to. she pulled up her pantys and jeans and walked back towards the two. As she approached she saw them kissing, Pual's hands kneeding her ass. Tessie stepped on some twigs to make them snap, Pual and Beth pulled apart, Beth looked half embarrassed, Pual looked like he was laughing inside about what Tessie was missing out on. "It's nice back there, nice land". Tessie told them for something to say. The three walked on awhile in silence. They climbed a gently riseing hill, at it's top they saw a round stone ruin, probaly hundreds of years old.
Ted excused himself and made off by himself into the woods, he extracted four baloons from himself and cleaned up as best he could. He opened one baloon and took a couple sniffs.
"Hey, your the outdoors girl, lead on Tessie", Pual ordered her, so he could get a little closer to Beth, cop a feel or three.
Mindy paced around for a bit, reached into her purse and pulled out a stick of cherry mint gum. Seven sticks left after this one
Paul put a lightly muscled arm around Beth, she snuggled a bit closer. He watched Tessie's round firm ass as she led the walk. Island life is good.
Ted felt no pain, no worry, nothing but joy, a golden shineing joy, and he felt so good, so very good! Then he thought I have a fair supply of good dope and fuck those alpha male worshipping bitches, I can just go off on my own awhile till the goods run out. Maybe sneak up on Alpha male wanna be and snuff his ugly ass, wipeing out half the island's male population.
The island was beautifull, full of colorfull birds and half seen animals that scuddled away from Ted and the ladies as they walked. Ted reached down and cupped Beth's ass. She just smiled as he squeezed.
Mindy waited twenty minutes and chewed a second stick, she was getting impatient. She paced some more and went off a little to the left to relieve herself, She checked her watch, thirty minutes had passed, what the fuck? After thirty five minutes she knew she had to either look for him, or try to find the others. "Ted!", she screamed "Ted where are you?". No answer came, she felt kinda paranoid all the sudden, what if they were not the only ones on the island, what if Ted got killed in the woods? She hurried away, guessing with way to go to find the others. Mindy felt scared, dark what ifs spun in her head. She kept on walking fast, past exotic trees and plants, scaering up pretty blue and orange striped birds. She went up a big slowly raising hill and looked about the island from a fairly high vantage. No sign of anyone.
Beth had her probeing hand down Paul's pants. She massaged his manhood into stiff attention, the helmeted soldier was ready for battle.
Tessie led them to the stone ruin, she seemed facniated by it.
Ted wandered deeper into the woods, lots of furry animals scampered away, with the right weapon one could eat good here. It was nice having some tolerance back, he was still pretty high. Then he saw the log cabin in a clearing, he carefully approached it, it looked deserted. Inside he found the animal chewed remains of a suicide, the gun still clutched in the skelital hand. A couple fingers snapped as Ted pulled it free. He checked it, five rounds remained inside it. "I've got a gun, I've got some really good dope, and theirs some pussy to rape on this island!", he sang to the uncaring world. But lurking deeper in his mind was the worry about what would happen when the dope ran out.