Here's some new stuff, I hope you guys like it




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My child arrived just the other day
He came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talkin' 'fore I knew it, and as he grew
He'd say "I'm gonna be like you dad
You know I'm gonna be like you"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home dad?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then



“That's it?” The youth asked frantically, as he paced the interior of the small bedroom.

“That's what it says.” The other replied, indicating the 'End of File' cursor that blinked with an irrefutable logic at the bottom of the small screen. “See?”

“But that, that, that blows Brahmin!” As the first youth gazed in denial at the sceen. “I mean.. this really sucks, Aaron.” Looking over the object again. “Are you sure there aren't anymore files in here somewhere.” Turning the device over in his hands “A secret button or something somewhere?”

Aaron grabbed it back. “[censored]'s sake Tom, you'll break it further. I only just got the audio to playback.” As he checked for any harm done. “It was my dad's, remember?” He added, in a softer tone.

“Yeah, sorry 'bout that.” Tom apologized, “But I mean, we still don't know anything! We don't know what happened to your mom -except of course that she survived since we just saw her an hour ago, we don't know what happened to your dad later on, with your uncle Carl..” Tom took Aaron dramatically by the arms, “Dude, we don't know anything!” Aaron grabbed his friend back and together they yelled in well rehearsed form “Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh, we're guuurlz!!”

A radio on a bed stand stopped in the middle of the song and the dj broke through; “Zow-wee, my cool cats and all my home dawgs out there in radio land, this is your Blitzener, the bizzer, the man who can, knows it like a radar scan.. from waay up top in my caddy shack, sending out the vibe.. we are now passing what once was the fabu-phalliscious golden Gate bridge -which isn't golden, it's painted red, so none of you mother [censored]ers go jumping over board in the hope that it's real gold, it ain't!”

A large shuttered window opened out onto a narrow balcony past the bed. The balcony ran for ten meters or so along the outside of the tower, crude but effectively welded to the side. Aaron had the window open and was already half way out. “C'mon Tom, we're higher up than Blitzener,” indicating that the twin towers that rose out of the Flying Dutchman's cargo holds were taller than the Cryslus Memorial tower that we should be able to have a great view.” Tom looked out onto the balcony with a look of trepidation creeping over his face.

“I dunno Aaron.. you sure it's safe?”

Aaron jumped up and down a few times, they balcony swaying slightly downward. “Yes, it safe. It's always safe. It was safe the last time you were out here, and it's safe now, see?” Cautiously, his friend climbed halfway out, Aaron withholding the urge to grab Tom and scare him, once had been enough.

“You're not going to freak me out, are you?”

Aaron held his hands up in defense “I'm cool, I promise.” as his friend climbed out further onto the balcony. While Tom seated himself, Aaron dived back inside to retrieve their snacks -left over from his birthday three days earlier. “Well..?” Aaron asked once they were finally sitting, soda's and chips at the ready.

“It's an okay view.” Tom muttered.

“What??” Aaron cupped his ear like an elderly person, “Wazzat sonny. Ya gots to speak up into my hearin' thingy, cuz I'm deaf like..”

Tom was grinning at Aaron's antics; “IT”S BLOODY BEAUTIFUL UP HERE!!”

A window opened and a female face in her twenties stuck out, looking for the source of the noise. Her gaze quickly fell upon the two youths.

“Ah, there you are. Get in here and wash up -oh, hello Thomas, I didn't know you were still here.”

“Rather here than my place, ma'am.” Tom replied “I think my mum hates me.”

“Well you're welcome to stay as long as you wish, I'll get word down to the Hunger Donner and let them know.” She wagged a finger at him quasi seriously. “But if I get any Wanderers or Warriors knocking at the door, I'm sending them straight to you.” Her head disappearing before it popped back out. “And wash up too. Honestly, where you kids find dirt and grim in those quantities on a steel ship is beyond me.”

“It's a talent.” Aaron retorted.


My son turned ten just the other day
He said, "Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on let's play
Can you teach me to throw", I said "Not today
I got a lot to do", he said, "That's ok"
And he walked away but his smile never dimmed
And said, "I'm gonna be like him, yeah
You know I'm gonna be like him"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home son?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then


“Mom?”

“Yes dear, what is it.” Knowing that tone of voice she set set her fork down and looked over the finishing bits of birthday cake that had served as desert, again. “you can have the last piece of cake if our guest doesn't want it.” Tom looked at Aaron, head bobbing.

“I'm having it.” He stated. Aaron waved it off, shaking his head.

“No, that's not it. And sure, he can have it.” Winking at his mom, “You know how they only eat seaweed and crab cakes once a week.” referring to the mutated horseshoe crabs called mirelurks that were cultivated on board in captivity as a renewable food source.

His mother brushed away her son's joke, but Tom chimed in through mouthfuls of birthday cake. “It's the truth Mrs. A., all my mum makes is seaweed stew for my dad, who loves it for some odd reason.” He shuddered, “Actually, almost everyone in our house hate my mums cooking, except my dad.” She was laughing now as he continued, “That's why we can always be found at either the Hungry Donner or M'here.”

“Anyway” Aaron finally continued, “I was wondering..”

“Yes?”

“Well, you know dad's old pip unit you gave me for my birthday?”

“She was there, remember?” Tom made face palm gestures in between bites. Aaron shot daggers at him.

“Right, thanks Tom, eat your cake.” And to his mother again, “Well uhh.., as it turns out I could get some of it working again.” His mom looked up.

“Really?”

“Yeah, old stuff from you and dad, nothing gross or anything.” He put in quickly, “But uhh, enough to wonder what happened back then, you know, where uncle Carl might be.” And after a quick glace at his friend, “and uhh, maybe what happened to dad.” he added quietly. His mother, finished with her plate, wiped her mouth and stood to put it with the rest of the dishes. Aaron looked at his friend as she walked the few feet to the kitchen, Tom only shrugged in mid munch.

As Celeste walked back from the kitchen she thought carefully about what she wanted to say. She knew this could happen -he had his fathers gift for tinkering with stuff, and so she knew what she wanted to say.

“Your father left five years ago,” she looked at him as she stood by the table, “and uncle Carl has been out there searching for him all this time.” They never really talked about it before, but Aaron was fast becoming a person old enough to have these questions, so she took a deep breath, “And he hasn't found a trace of your father, nor has anyone seen him, or heard from him.”

Aaron was shaking his head. This wasn't what he wanted to hear. This wasn't what he wanted to ask his mother about.

“As much as I love your father, I'm afraid he's probably-”

“Noooo! You lying!!” Aaron was in tears. What the hell, could she just listen for a second? “He's not dead! He's not!! He's out there, and these tapes, these tapes say so!” Grabbing the pip unit from the table, Aaron stormed up the stairs where the door to his room slammed shut, loudly.

Tom sat at the table still, wondering if he could ask for another soda.



Excusing himself from the kitchen, Tom ventured back up stair where sounds from the radio floated through the open door to his friends room. He could hear Blitzener giving the weather report for the bay area -sunny with a chance of showers of acid rain, and the UV-B count was a whopping 52 for today, so remember that sunblock, kiddies!

“Hey...” Edging it slightly further ajar, Tom poked his head inside cautiously. “It's the cavalry, don't shoot.” He eyed Aaron who lay sprawled out on his bed, slowly turning the pip unit over on the bed.

“Sorry 'bout that.” Aaron was still toying with the pip unit in his hands.

“Yeah well, I just talked to your mom, and convinced her to let you stay at my place this week while she's gone.”

“Seaweed stew all week? No thanks.” Although they both knew Aaron enjoyed staying with tom's family. There were always so many people about, not dulls ville like up here in the towers. Of course, extra prodding never hurt.

“It's either that or Princess Stomper. She's looking after the place while your mom's gone.” Tom commented as he pretended to be looking at some unnoticed detail in a poster hanging on the wall.

“Seaweed stew.. love it, it's my favorite, yum. And your family aren't the worst on board to be with by the way.” Aaron jumped up, comically over dramatizing his grabbing a bag and looking for stuff to pack.

“That's because you can escape, lucky sod. I'm serving a life sentence, remember? And Jenny's acting mental again..”

“I'll live.”

“With any luck, my mum will be so busy spoiling you, she'll completely forget about abusing me.”

“Great, we both win.”

“Soo.., you really think the answer to what happened to your dad is on that thing?”

“Gotta be.. or at least tell me something about what happened to him.”

“Well, what I said earlier about not knowing anything-”

“The truth hurts, huh?”

“Ha ha, dork. No, what I meant was.. we do know something! Lots actually.”

“How so?”

“Don't you see?” Tom walked over reaching for the pip unit. Aaron handed it to him cautiously with Tom making reassuring gestures. “Here look.” Pushing the replay button and skimming to the end. “Listen, your dad talks about everyone he knew back then, many of whom live either here on board, or on the Minnow.”

“And we can find 'em..” Aaron clued in.

“Yeah..” Tom nodded.

“And get them to tell about my dad..” Aaron continued. “By any means possible.”

“I can do irritating very well.” Tom ventured happily, knowing things would start happening soon. With Aaron, things usually did.

“We'll need that.” Aaron mentioned towards Tom's self acknowledged social skills while throwing some things into a duffle bag for the stay.

“What we need, is to get outta here before princess Stomper gets here.. honestly, as mutants go, she scares me.”

Aaron, having grown up a while on the farm with his uncle Archie -a nine foot, 800 pnd mutant followed everywhere by a pack of wasteland dogs he called his family, wasn't too phased by mutants as Tom was. But the princess was a ok, if somewhat over protective.

“She's okay, as long as you don't have to share a room with her, she snores like a chainsaw and a bullhorn had a love child together, and then beat it to death.

Back down stairs, Celeste was finishing up with the dishes, rinsing them with rain water from a bucket Aaron had drawn from the reservoir earlier. Rinsing with the semi salt water from the taps was vile, and left a the dishes tasting salty. Putting the plates away, she heard the boy laughing up stairs, she stopped and catching a glimpse of herself reflected in the plates surface, realized the time that had passed.

Five years.


Well, he came home from college just the other day
So much like a man I just had to say
"Son, I'm proud of you, can you sit for a while?"
He shook his head and said with a smile
"What I'd really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys
See you later, can I have them please?"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home son?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then





“Then what, uncle Acky?”

“Uhh.., lemme sees 'ere.. uhh... errr.. 'ang on, der's some big wordy bits 'ere..”

The stairs to the attic were dark, the door shut. Inside, light came from the window at the far end, as well as small shafts of light from a structure at the other end, in the corner, behind some boxes was a crude barricade built from planks and cardboard, with a sign written in crayon over a tiny doorway,

'timothy's fort'
'No Gurls!!'

Next to it was a taped note that read

'& Aaron to!'

sticking out of the fort's doorway were a set of massively over sized feet trailing two hugely muscled legs, that both disappeared into the fort, the beam from a flashlight struggling to fit though the occupied doorway, and escape further into the attic proper.

Looking closer inside the fort, the rest of the muscled body was crammed into the fort as much as it would fit -which wasn't much considering the other occupant, a much smaller occupant, who was currently badgering his uncle for the rest of the story.

“And den Grognak says to da dragun 'Aaaaaarrrrhggggllll!!!' and den stomps it in 'is 'ead. See? 'ere on dis page, see?”

“Then what?”

“Uhhm..., err.. it sayz and den Grognak took da trr-eyeble guurl to 'is place and uhh, did fings wit her.”

“What things?” Inquisitively he asked. Archie wasn't sure himself, but the suggestions scratched at something deep within him, something nearly forgotten with time.

Uhhmm, it don't say” Looking at the last page, “But prolly she gets swanky new cloths an' stuff cuz 'ere at the end he's takin' her old stuff off of her, and den it ends.” he put the comic down. “Guurlz likes dem swanky stuff.”

“Pfft.. guurls.. blech!”

“And what, exactly, do you to gentlemen have against girls? I'm a girl to ya know?” Came a voice from out in the attic.

“Hey mom! You're not allowed in here!!” A trap door in the roof of the fort opened up, and an irritated six year old's face popped out. “No guurlz!”

“Well, this girl is telling the two of you to wash up for dinner, and Archie, Lunk was in the vegetable garden again. Do whatever it is you do with them, and please keep that dog out of there.”

A muffled “yes ma'am” emitted from the fort. Aaron's head ducked back in, and then popped back out again, all smiles.

“Sokay mom, we'll take care of it!” Then disappeared again.

Well okay.. dinner in five minutes.” Leaving the attic unsure whether this could be classified as a success, or failure in parenting..

As she came down the stairs, she heard the dogs bark outside in excitement, and a voice from outside as well amidst the tumult.

“Okay, okay.. here, here.. Hi ya big guy, how ya doin' then? Yeesss, good boy.., geez how many of you does Archie have? Yes, yes, I have some snacks.. here guys have fun.. I smell real food anyway.”

Outside in front of the porch, surrounded by dogs of all sizes, each trying harder to greet the newcomer, who was obviously a friend.

“Carl!?”

“Hey there sweet cheeks, hubby home yet?” As he tried in vain to dislodge himself from the pack.

Celeste now looked concerned. “I thought he was with you.”


I've long since retired, my son's moved away
I called him up just the other day
I said, "I'd like to see you if you don't mind"
He said, "I'd love to, Dad, if I can find the time
You see my new job's a hassle and kids have the flu
But it's sure nice talking to you, Dad
It's been sure nice talking to you"

And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me
He'd grown up just like me
My boy was just like me

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home son?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then

First, Andy, welcome to the Forums!!!

Next....OMG....is this ANOTHER version of Memories????

AFTER WRITING 600 PLUS PAGES AND 400,000 WORDS OF THE OLD "MEMORIES" ...YOU HAVE THE STRENGTH TO DO A TOTAL REWRITE OF IT AGAIN????


Excuse me while I go look for a bridge to jump off...


*splash*

Yeah Andy! And welcome!! Are you re-writing, not just transferring? GAAAAH !!! Where is that bridge? ** SPLASH !!! **


[mALX drowned, clutching a copy of "Memories" and frantically reading as she went down ...]

Wecome to posting your story here! An interesting idea to juxtapose that song into an interestingly delivered history.

It's not a re-write.. it's set five years into the future after the events of the last book, now written from the point of view of my son, who's now eleven and lives on board the Flying Dutchman with his mom, Celeste.
Andy and Carl are missing in action, Andy more so than Carl (because I have honestly no idea whats happened to me in the story... me thinks aliens)


the golden gate is in San Fransisco.. DON'T DROWN IN IT!!


Ooooh praise.. I's do loves praise I does..


Off to type even more!!!!

and with no 200 post limit, I'm gonna comment the hell outta this

You gave us a good start to a new piece. The characters of Aaron and Tom really jump to life as real, breathing people. Likewise with their families around them. The 'No Gurls!!' was priceless! It reminds me of when I was little.

Are you looking for criticisms? Some people are, some are not. There is certainly no problem if not.

It’s nice to know that Harry Chapin survived the divergence in the timeline, at least as far as lending his lyrics to this absorbing first chapter. Hi Andy. Destri. I enjoyed reading this very much. I am a bit put off now because I have to go all the way back to the BGS forums in order to find out what happened to Carl and, um, you in the first Memories! Serves me right for not visiting the Fallout Fan Fic section more often.

Thank you
criticize away.. I'll let you know when you're getting mean
I already have a bucket load for myself.. I wanted the balcony scene between Tom and Aaron to be more.. uhh more.
And the transition to the Farm house five years earlier might have been done in a wiser fashion..
Not to mention explaining to my mom what a pip unit was

Hi Destri, thanks
I'll save you a tip and blab a bit.. you won't find out what happened in the last Memories.. the reader is as much in the dark about what happened as the kids are. Now they're gonna go and try to find out what happened, the reader finds out at the same time.. and maybe I'll figure out by then what's happened to them as well

my 'structured plotline' needs to be viewed with very squinty eyes, and a couple of martini's.. and even then I'm kinda lost still.

See, (uh-oh, here we go..) I'm taking existing storylines -or segments from existing storylines.. or structures.. I dunno.., and weaving them together -I hope, into a unique story of my own.

Confused? I am

I should warn all readers that my dear friend Old Andy is an writer of EPIC proportions, and his characters are larger than life, who wander in and out of the story which jumps forwards and backwards in time and space and the fascinatingly weird musings of his character's imaginations ... think Charles Dickens meets Jack Kerouac meets James Joyce.

I found some misspelling/grammar errors. I cannot remember them all, but here were a few:

“Hey..” Edging the door slightly ajar,
You had either one period too many, or one not enough, depending one what you were going for there.

It's the Calvary
In this context, you want cavalry, which are the guys on horses. Calvary is the place Christ was crucified, or pictures and sculptures depicting it.

The biggest thing I saw though was head-hopping. Down toward the end where Tom and Aaron are talking about Princess Stomper (great use of a forum name btw. ), the scene starts out from Tom's point of view. Then Celeste turns up, and as she washes the dishes with salt water (ick), we are firmly inside her head, as she is hearing the boys upstairs and realizing that 5 years has passed.

When it comes to point of view in third person, you need to stick with one point of view character, and present the scene from that person's view. So only write what that person sees, feels, thinks, knows, etc... If you want to change to another pov character that is fine. But you need to clearly end the scene before you do, and then start a new scene from the pov of the new character. Like the way you have been putting the ++++++ signs in to show scene changes. Not doing that is extremely disorienting for the reader.

If it helps, think of your writing as a movie. You only have one camera, and one microphone. They are both installed in your pov character's head. So the reader only sees through their eyes and other senses, and only knows what they know.

You just shaved 400,000 words off my life. Thanks!


So what you’re saying is we’re On the Road with Mr. Micawber carrying a portmanteau, while the Artful Dodger plays at being purposefully elusive?

Yup, Destri. That's EXACTLY what I meant.

I'm really good at artfully dodging macabre port-o-potty thingies while on the road.. it's called not sleeping behind the wheel.


anywho

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“'Kay mom, we're outta here!” duffel bag shouldered Aaron jumped the banister onto the stairs and then bounced the rest of the way down, dropping his bag with practiced throw beside the stairs, landing neatly on his feet. Tom took the long way, starting at the top of the stairs, and going down them one by one.

“You're like a bloody jumping thing, one of those animals that jumps a lot.” He commented dryly.

“Big horn mountain sheep?” Aaron stood leaning casually against a support beam.

“Yeah.. one of them, I s'pose. Never seen one before, but apparently they can jump up and down the side of mountains... that's you that is!”

Aaron grinned at his friends remarks “Well, when you live in the towers, you either learn free running, or love stairs.” Then, looking around the room. “Mom?”

“Up here!” The voice coming from his mothers room. Tom, who had only made it halfway down, simply turned and walked back upstairs, while Aaron now grudgingly climbed up behind him. “There are, of course moments, where taking the slow route can be less work.”

“I believe in maximized gain from minimal effort.” Tom proudly declared over him shoulder, “Course my mum says I'm lazy as sin..” The door to Celeste's room was open slightly, so Tom just walked in; “He'll be right up Mrs. A., once he's- yikes!”

“Thomas!!” Celeste had her flame retardant flight suit on, a one piece job that zipped up the front. Celeste never wore anything underneath except panties, and with the suit still open down past her belly, the view had been something any warm blooded eleven year old stops and stares at.

“Hey I-” Tom, bug eyed at the view of his best friends mother with a frontal cleavage going down way to far, he spun on the spot and tried desperately to retrace his steps, in such colliding with Aaron coming through the door behind him.

“What? Oh.. whoops, sorry mom.” Aaron saw his mom just spin away towards her cabinet. That and Tom's complexion told the whole story.

“Sorry Mrs A..” Tom sided past Aaron and disappeared guiltily into the shadows beyond the room.

“That's uhh, okay boys. I, just uhh, thought you both, well it sounded like you were still downstairs.” flight suit now decently fastened, she picked up her holster and slipping her arms into the straps, then secured a sizable automatic in place, along with extra clips. She looked up, into the eyes of her son, who stood smiling back, full of love.

“Right then.” Getting the last business out of the way. “I'll be gone for a week- ten days at the most.” Aaron knew already where his mom was headed for, she was ferrying high-rollers from Ka-chinga towers on the Minnow to New Vegas, for a week of adult indulgence, that also as an eleven year old, he truly couldn't fathom the appeal of.

“You're flying 'em in on Serenity?” He asked, the south African built vertibird being by far his most favorite vehicle in or above the fleet.., as well as captain Davey's BRB 9000 of course, which was mega cool, as well as uncle Danny's Hal powerboat.. and the wanderers as well as the Warriors each had a dozen or so jetski's, which were rad as hell -although his mom had strictly forbidden him to ride them alone. But Serenity was definitely his favorite.

Definitely.

“No.” She stated, finalizing her flight bag for the trip “Grounded on a count of Daniel needing it himself.”

“Is it me, or is uncle Danny getting uppity?”

“Don't talk like that about him.” Pointing an accusing finger, “You should be grateful, he helped us out a lot when we first came a board.” In doing so, Celeste noticed the time. “and I'll be grateful if I can get onto the flight deck on time, so can we move this along, sweetheart”

“Yeah, I know. But is he?”

“Your uncle Daniel is..,” Celeste chose her words carefully, as she checked herself in the mirror. “A very busy man these days with the affairs of the ships senate committee.” Finished, she grabbed her things ready to go. “He does represent the most wealthy people on the ship these days.”

“I liked it better when he was representing the Dutchman.” As the two walked downstairs together, “Old prune face is letting this place rot.” His mom stopped on the stairs.

“Aaron?!” That didn't sound like her son. Aaron kept descending the stairs to where Tom stood waiting, and turned.

“Well, it's what everyone is saying mom.” Tom nodded in agreement, having heard everything from 'prune face' onward. Desperate to get past the awkward moment from earlier, he added his two cts worth.

“Is true Mrs A., things were a lot better around here when Mr. Dee was still representing for us over on the Minnow. Old Mister Howell doesn't seem to take much interest in us” Aaron started naming things, over emphasizing it using his fingers as counters.

“Numero uno: -your words- inflation. You said it yourself that everything was getting more and more expensive and hard-to-get.. hmm? Numero two-o.. uhh, whatever. -your words again- services. How many brown outs a week do we get up here? Not to mention have the time I turn on the faucet there's no water up here -and I'm talking salt water, okay.” Nodding, Tom helped interject.

“That's numero three-o” Smiling smug as Aaron continued.

“Geez the last time we had even semi working drink water up is.., what? A month ago, mom?” Aaron had his arms outreached, and let them fall to his side, his head fell. Celeste came down the rest of the stairs, and patted her son on the head, and hugged him. Tom felt a moment of jealousy as Aaron was pulled in a tight hug.

“Ooooh.., it's so terrible, we should all just jump over board now, huh?” And ruffled his hair, as Aaron tried ducking the assault.

“Naah, don't. Blitzener said not to because the golden gate bridge isn't really golden, just painted red.” Smiling, “We'd look like total chumps if we jumped now.” punctuating the 'now'. Reaching safety -i.e., more than an arm length from his mom, he turned adding; “If we wanted to save ourselves pain and misery, we should've jumped before we ate those gross rat burgers you cooked!”

Celeste stopped cold under the insults to her cooking, squinting, hand on one hip and pointing a loaded finger of reason, “Really? Rat burgers, huh? Then why, Mr. Anderson, did you eat three of them? Hmm??”

“I was being polite.”

Yuk.

She was so gonna get him.

“And Tom here,” Who was already holding his hands up in a defensive leave-me-outta-this stance, was grabbed by Celeste who threw an arm around the boy, “If my cooking is sooo bad,” Inching around the furniture, her captive in tow, “Why on earth did this strapping young gentleman put away so much of it? Hmm, smarty pant, riddle me that one.”

“Simple.” Making sure Aaron was keeping the table strategically placed between him and his mom, “Tom's the politest person on this ship. Hell, he even say he thinks you're pretty! HA!”

“Aww., that's so sweet of you Thomas.” giving him a sudden hug and kiss on his head before letting go. Then she turned to the business at hand.

“But, as FOR YOU..” Celeste dove over the table, sure she would get the drop on her son.

The door buzzer rang, and since mother and son were engaged in a steeple race around the house, squeals of laughter ensuing, Tom opened the door and stared into the face of HATE.

It was tattoo'ed on Princess Stompers forehead.

“Ermm.. uhhh.. hi.., princess.” Tom croaked barely audible, as all the happiness from earlier drained away in an instant from Tom's face, as well as a sizable portion of the blood that circulated in it.

There stood, fully filling the frame of the door, and having to duck to get in, seven and a half feet, and nearly seven hundred pounds -she would tell you it was a bit over six, of female mutant. And a good friend of Aaron's mother.

She bent over closer to tom, eying him from mere inches away. “Yous a Beasly boy?”

“uh-huh..” He squirmed. If Tom could have, he would have climbed inside himself, dug a hole deep within himself, to finally climb in, pull a big massive rock over himself, and hid. As it was, he hoped he wouldn't faint. The princess gruffed a snort of indifference,

“Where Mrs. Si-si at?!” Which to anyone, meant Celeste.

“Follow the noise.” Weakly pointing a finger in the direction of upstairs where bouts of hysterical laughter were intermixed with words like 'You hate my cooking do you??' and 'TICKLE DEATH!!'. Tom shrugged in a they're-mental-what-can-you-do fashion that wasn't lost to the princess.

“OI!!” She bellowed over Tom's head, “I'M 'ERE!!!”

Not much later, the boys were on their way, Tom's ears still ringing.

Once safely out of earshot and bounding down the stairwell, tom felt that certain things needed to be cleared up between him and his good friend. Things that shouldn't stay unresolved between best buds.

“Your mum's a serious MILF, you do know that don't you?” Aaron ducked as is assaulted by cootie’s.

“Aw man, that's my mom your talking about. I live with her, remember?” As if that answered everything there was to say on the matter.

“I know.., must be brilliant.” Tom had a far away gaze in his eyes. “Coming out of the bed room.. going into the showers.. coming out of the shower and going into the bedroom... maybe accidentally dropping the towel.. 'oh sweetheart, could you pick that up for me? Never mind, I'll just bend over and grab it myself'-” Aaron whacked his friend in the chest.

“Dude, one more word and it's knuckle sandwich Tuesday, yeah?” Back and the here and now, Tom's thoughts to a turn for the more practical.

“You think your mum would adopt me?” Aaron blinked at his friend seemingly serious question.

“I know my mum wouldn't bat an eyelid at swapping out me for you.. she adores you.”

“Mom says it's because I have charm.” Aaron gloated kindheartedly. “Sokay though, I could teach you.” Bounding down half a flight at a time, his friend in a slower, and safer pursuit.

As Tom descended the stairs to another landing, he slowed even further, lost in contemplation. As if with each step further he reached a deeper conclusion in the train of thought.

“Hey,” Speaking to his friend, “We have to start at the beginning when you arrived on board.” And following his own logic, “So how did you guys actually arrive on board? Cuz it probably has to do with everything.”

“Captain Davey's BRB.., I told you that once, didn't I.” Aaron didn't understand.

“Yeah, yeah. But before that. What happened that made you guys come aboard in the first place.” Aaron just blinked. That wasn't a fun time to remember for him. And it certainly wasn't one he'd talked about. He slumped on a chair which was in the corner, resting his elbows on his knees. Tom sat on the stairs.




They were all sitting at the table on the porch, on account of the weather still being so nice this far into the year. Celeste, Aaron, Archie and Carl were finishing up their plates, enjoying the early evening.

“Archie, stop feeding them at the table, you know it only spoils them.” Celeste remarked in between bites as another piece of meat fell into the waiting jaws of his lead dog Ivy, a healthy animal and alpha female of the pack ever since her mate, the then alpha male of the pack died a few years earlier. For awhile Archie had thought that Gonzo would have been her new mate, and rise to alpha male. But Gonzo rested in his grave, reshly dug by the old oak tree, next to the family grave of the Vanderkamps, all looking down from the hillside peacefully.

“Can I be done now?” A fidgety six year old asked. “Pweeeeeessse..” Batting his eyelids for good measure. Normally, as any good mother will attest to, Celeste was able to ignore the insurmountable assault of cuteness that her son could unleash at the drop of a hat. Normally that is, but Carl, and then Archie came to the boys defense, and under their conbinded effort, she swayed, faltered, and finally caved in.

“You didn't eat your veggie's”

“He ate most of them, Celsete. C'mon, it's nice weather, let his play.”

“He et most of my udder sandwich earlier too, he did.”

“It's 'ate' Archie, and if he wasn't feeding half of it to Ivy, like you are.. yes, I saw that.”

Carl dug into his bag he had next to him, “Check it out, squirt.” Pulling what looked to be a toy raygun out.

“Whoa.. cool!”

“That isn't real, is it?” Aaron mom asked slightly worried that if it was, it was already too late. Carl gave a reassuring nod.

“Okay, look, before I give this to you, you have to understand a few things.” Googly eyed, Aaron just nodded.

-How to get the complete and undecided attention of any six year old boy: hold a cool looking gun in front of them.

“This, is a sonic repulsor, hand model. Picked it up north off of a guy who certainly didn't have any use for it anymore. It's nonlethal, meaning it won't kill anything, just make them wish they were somewhere else.” Pointing the the various dials and settings. “safety, trigger -of course, this is where the battery goes, and this is the amplitude adjustment controls.” Looking at Aaron to see whether he was taking it all in. He was. “Lowest setting just tickles, on two or three it gets really uncomfortable. Level five is where wild animals will just start to run away, and will force a grown man to lose their lunch violently, as well as needing a change of undies.” Aaron grinned at the last bit, took the weapon while thanking him and eying his mother whether it was okay, but Celeste held quiet.

“Let's go boys!” Running down the hill, three quarters of the pack running happily after him, Aaron making 'pew-pew' sounds. Carl smiled as the boys dissapeared, turned to see a rather annoyed woman across from him.

“Whaa..” Shrugging his shoulders innocently.

“If I mysteriously contract a case of diarrhea for no appearnt reason,” Pointing after her son, “I'm taking that thing,” then pointing at Carl, “hunting you down and shoving it in your pants on auto-fire, Carl Johnson!”

Carl didn't think it wise to point out it was only made for single shot use. Archie was looking at something insignificant on the porch ceiling, seemingly a lot smaller than he was. So Carl did what his friend had taught him once.

Smile like a scared monkey, and pray.

Added a bit to the top of the paragraph, so that the perspective now floats from Celeste down stairs, to Tom and Aaron up stairs and then back down where she's doing dishes.. better so?

Excusing himself from the kitchen, Tom ventured back up stair where sounds from the radio floated through the open door to his friends room. He could hear Blitzener giving the weather report for the bay area -sunny with a chance of showers of acid rain, and the UV-B count was a whopping 52 for today, so remember that sunblock, kiddies!

“Hey...” Edging it slightly further ajar, Tom poked his head inside cautiously. “It's the cavalry, don't shoot.” He eyed Aaron who lay sprawled out on his bed, slowly turning the pip unit over on the bed.

So Celeste really was pregnant? That kind of got dropped in the original, I wasn't sure at the conclusion if she was or wasn't! (of course, enough time had not passed to know for sure before you ABSCONDED with the rest of the story, lol. Glad you are bringing it here !!) Awesome Write !!!

So even after the bombs fall Las Vegas remains the adult playground. Is it the allure of the strip or the assets of the buxom Celeste that keep people lining up for the trip? I think it is safe to assume that they aren’t willing to go for the pleasure of sharing Princess Stomper’s company for a week - ten days at the most.

A few small nits:

This one has a change of tense in the middle of a sentence. Might I suggest ‘slipped.’

I can’t tell if this was done on purpose. If so, please disregard the suggestion that ‘account’ is the word you are looking for.

thx malx I'm glad you're one of the readers.. but yeah, the whole preggo thing might need to be re-addressed in the original with a few more hints.

thx as well Destri I'll get on those goofs and fix 'em.., and uhhm, of course I did that on purpose!

did what on purpose?




enjoy.. hope this doesn't get confus- err.. ferget I said anything
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“You have it with you?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, in my bag.” Patting his duffel, grinning. “Mom thinks I broke it and was thrown out last year.” Tom nodded. Knowledge of the sonic repulsor was on a need to know basis -meaning keeping it away from the adults, probably a good idea to keep Jenny out of the loop, the way she blabbed everything. Hmm, also..

“Better not tell Lydia 'bout it either then. You know how she gets.” Mentioning Jasmine's daughter sparked an idea in Aaron. One that his friend noted with trepidation. “Oh.., you're not thinking of..”

But Aaron was already nodding, “We gotta see where Lyd's at.” Tom was face palming himself for mentioning her,

“Oh god why? She so annoying!”

“You said it yourself, there might be secret playback function or files I haven't found yet.” Guessing he hadn't won his friend over yet. “In which case she'll find 'em way faster than we ever could.”

“I know, but she is *so* annoying!” Aaron knew he had Tom won over, the last prod was for saving face purposes only.

“But she's a genius.”

“Yeah.., annoyingly so!” As Aaron's friend finally caved in, his expression set to continued annoyance.

“Glad you're on board,” Aaron beamed, clasping an arm around his buddy, “We'll ask her mom down in CJ's where she is.” as they marched down another flight. Tom picked up the conversation again.

“So, you weren't actually there when it happened then?” Trying to picture the events in his mind.

“Nope.” Aaron shook his head, then explained further. “There was a brook that ran close by the farm house, and I was hoping to find some baby scorpions or something to try out the repulsor on.”

“Then what?”

“Well, gunfire first. Lots of it, all coming from the direction of the house. I had maybe twenty of my uncles dogs with me, half of which ran straight back towards where the shooting was.”

“You didn't?”

“Nuh-uh.. mom and dad always said if there was trouble at the house, to hunker down andwait it out until someone came calling for me.”

“Is that what you did?”

“I kind of sort of did, but the shooting and then the explosions kept getting louder, so I kept moving down the stream, away from the house, until I was further than I had ever been before, but I could still hear the shooting going on, only less of it.” Aaron stopped a second as he told the rest. “Until a bunch of really loud explosions, like uhh.., like if the ship were to explode -that loud, and I hauled out of there with some of the dogs chasing me. When I stopped, I didn't know where I was anymore.”

“Wow.”




Not wanting to catch up to the boys -nosy mom implied all over that notion, but on the clock to get to the flight deck none the less, Celeste took the less traveled 'back' stairs down the tower, that ran for the most part down along the outside of the building to the top of CJ's, from where she'd take the elevator the rest of the way. Having instructed princess Stomper on things for while she was away -best damn home defense on board, and with Jasmine notified to bring food from the club up to her every night, since the princess's idea of food preparation consisted of; kill the food, eat the food, and pick out the bits of fur from ones teeth after.

And she'd sleep down stairs on the roll out futon they had. Celeste smiled at being on top of her game, especially when rush flights like these really pushed the envelope of parental planning. Thank god Tom had offered for Aaron to stay the week -mental note to thank the Beasley's with something nice when she got back. Chuckling at the forlorn reaction of Thomas to her not-entirely-PG13 exposure she presented to him, it obviously wouldn't do for Mags and Arthur.. or at least Mags.

Laughing at herself Celeste took in the spectacular view that the back stairs provided as she descended further, as it made it's own way over roofs and around corners downward. Having passed the remains of the once majestic Golden Gate Bridge, she could now clearly see the ruins that were once the San Francisco skyline.

Smaller buildings that ran from the docks up Colt hill, giving way to ruined tenant apartments further on. As they rounded Alcatraz island she saw were the smaller buildings gave way to the larger ruins of the old business district, empty shells of an industry no longer practiced on a global scale.

With the sun setting west of the Presidio, lights were coming on here and there among the ruins of the city. From Blitzener's radio updates and news reports he had started broadcasting specifically about the bay area while they were still sailing up the coast, she was aware that there were different villages and communities scattered through out the ruins. There were the 'Chi', or 'She', or something living in what used to be the Chinese district of the city, and were supposedly descendants from either the district itself, or invaders from the war. Whatever the story, they probably had great chow mien.

Passing by Alcatraz island from what seemed only a few meters, she could see various individuals running about along the old jail wall and in the guard towers. Instinctively she froze against the wall, realizing how exposed she was on the outer stairway, and that those guard towers were only a couple hundred meters away at most, that if anyone decided to take a potshot at her, they'd probably hit her as well with any luck.

And all she had was a holstered Sig 226 ED, and even though it was chambered for the heftier forty caliber round as apposed to the standard nine millimeter, there was no way she would be doing anything but wasting ammo if she tried shooting back. Not to mention the 'ED' stood for elite dark, and having a tactical light would only make it easier to be seen.

“Waaahh!! Look out lady!”

“Last on down is a barge dweller!”

“Gang way!”

“Comin' through! Oh hi, Mrs. Anderson, s'cuse us.”

The four youths scampered on past Celeste and further down the stairs out of sight, whooping it up as they went past. One was definitely the Vious boy, Mitch, who's family had the entire top of the tower, and what had to be his entourage with him. She recognized Oliver Verdraai -the one who had taken the time to notice her, a boy of Aaron's age who lived somewhere a few floor up. As for the other three, they were like Yoko on Lennon -a bad influence that couldn't end right.

Leaving her to recover from her might heart attack she stood slightly swaying on the stairs. 'You ain't no teenager no more, sweetie.' came the thought, followed closely by 'Damn kids.'

Cornering the tower and again in relative safety, Celeste re-holstered her sidearm that she had drawn without thinking during the ruckus. It was said that the old island penitentiary was home to a less than reputable savaging crew who's business practices bordered on that of the blatantly illegitimate.

Crossing the sky bridge connecting the two part of CJ's in the middle of both towers, Celeste saw her son and his friend sitting at the night club's bar, talking with Jasmine. Aaron was toying with his father's old personal information processor, while Tom was eating again. Smiling at his appetite, she turned and headed back to tower one, deciding to leave the boys further alone with their freedom and take that elevator down to the Newark docks located directly beneath it in the cargo hold.

“He's probably asking where Lydia is.” She spoke to herself out loud with waiting for the elevator to arrive. It was a no-brainer considering how bright Jasmine's daughter was, especially in matters technical. Who knows, maybe she could get something useful out of the broken unit which would help clarify things, but Celeste had conditioned herself against hope, knowing it was easier to deal with, and thus survive the routine of day to day living without thinking too much.

Waiting for the elevator car, she had time to think.



“Now that my son is safely out of earshot,” Celeste began, wiping her mouth and carefully refolding the linen napkin before placing back on the porch table and looking Carl dead on. “Where the hell is his father?” Archie thought now a good time to clean off the table, and then maybe run out the back kitchen door, and hide. Miss Celeste had a way of looking really, really cross at you which made anything feel small, guilty and morbidly ashamed at whatever it was she was angry about. Even his brother -who was way smarter than him, and married to her, admitted that; 'When she gets mad, I goes fishin'. Archie was wondering as he took the dishes in where he'd seen his fishingpole and tackle box lately.

“Uhm.., not here?” Carl however, seemed impervious to all manner of woman's wrath, as long as physical pain wasn't involved. Seeing he was immanently close to that very experience judging by Celeste's gaze, he added quickly, “We kinda got split up.”

“Where 'split up' did you kinda get?” Her irritation and anxiety barely contained.

“Just outside of Pittsburg. Thing got a little confusing so we split up to cover more ground, and agreed that if we missed each other to meet back here.”

“Pittsburg?!” Celeste was trying to catch up to current events, having not spoken to Andy since he left for Megaton. “What the hamster were the two of you doing gallivanting through hamster cave Pittsburg?!?!” While losing her cool about it in the process.

Carl's eyebrow went up at the word 'gallivanting', but now was not the time for humorous interjection, nor would it have likely been appreciated. “Uhh, we were following up on a lead? Which led us to looking in, uhh...” Carl looked away for a second. This wasn't easy to discuss around Celeste. “We first traced Marcus back to Baltimore, and found that the church was up and running again. Only now it was led by that freak Marcus.” This was where Celeste started going white. “There we found out initially that 'you-know-who' had upped and moved his shop to New York -except that turned out to be a dead end in more ways than one,” Carl paused a moment, then added; “But did lead us to Pittsburg finally.”

“Is *he* still alive?” Was all she could muster hoarsely. The emphasis on 'he' left no doubt to whom she was referring. Carl debated the question visibly.

“Uuh, maybe.., kinda doubtful actually. I mean, if he is, then 'not much' would fit best I think. We pretty much leveled the place.” Carl ended with a weak grin. Celeste had her arms folded over her chest like she did with Aaron when he lost a shoe.

“Start at the beginning and tell me what happened.” Carl leaned back and re-lit his stogie, not sure where the beginning was anymore.

“Err.., you mean start with us getting to Baltimore?” Wondering whether that was a good place to jump in with the re-cap.

“Is it long?” Her face said patience wasn't on the menu anymore.

“A bit.” Carl confessed, going over the events of the past few weeks.

“Then start at the end and work your way to the beginning.”




Rain and hail stones plastered against Serenity's cockpit windshield, reducing the Doppler read out to near nothing. Lightening split across the sky, making it for a brief moment also easier to just look out of the window instead of watching the instruments. Maria sat behind Serenity's controls, debating with the ship AI in Spanish the various actions they could take as turbulence buffeted the craft.

A red indicator flashed briefly, Maria pointed and Danny nodded that he'd seen it as well.

“First marker.” He mentioned to his wife. “I'll go tell the boys.” Maria looked over as Daniel stood out of his seat, grabbing his cuff briefly.

“Tell them; Vaya con dios, amigos.” He heard his wife say as he made his way rear.

Go with God, friends.

Daniel stuck his head out pilots area and held a thumbs up and a hand at full stop. We were six minutes from our drop in point and finalizing our gear and the institute power armour we'd be jumping in. Over the headset I clearly heard his distinct south African drawl as he looked at us for conformation. We both nodded that we had.

“How fast are we moving?” I asked back over the intercom.

“A tad under mach one.” And after asking our altitude, 'a hair over eight thousand meters' he looked at me. “You sure you want to do this?” He looked worried.

“No.” Exiting a perfectly well functioning aircraft during flight went against every instinct of self preservation. That unfortunately didn't change the fact that this was the best way in. “What about you Carl, you want to do this?”

“Hell no! I want pie!”

“Sorry Danny, Carl wants pie so I guess we're going back”

Daniel shook his head at the nonsense, “If you need us, don't call this time!” And added. “We'll set down outside of-” Checking the readout on his own wrist unit, “Right here.” Pushing a button next to the screen, my pip unit buzzed briefly, “I've uploaded the map markers” I nodded. So did Carl. “Good luck, mate.” I winked as I fastened the suits faceplate and donned my helmet, securing it snugly in place.

Last recheck of my gear, then double checking Carl's, then Carl finally double checking me. Making sure everything we needed or wanted was on us or with us, because once out the door, there was no; 'Oops, I forget something... mind if just go back and ge- oh dear, I'm falling through the air, there goes the day..'

With our helmets on, I used the internal comm system while giving him a last once over, “So, waddaya thinks, bro?” Moving my hand back and forth before his face “Tracking.” He followed my hand with his head, and suddenly the shoulder mount began to follow the head -and my hand, in tandem.

“I think I'd rather have pie.” He mentioned glum as I checked both lateral and vertical movement, which was fine. “Also, and I'm only saying this in the spirit of being absolutely honest with you, I'm not sure the suits were ever built with this in mind.”

“We'll soon find out, won't we? Arms up.” In no time I was satisfied that he had everything with him that was suppose to be there.

“Yeah, but look Andy, -tracking, we are talking about what says in the user manual 'limited and above all temporary glide capabilities' quote / unquote.”

“You actually read that thing.. geez. I skimmed.”

“I'm serious man, they were made for assaulting off of buildings, rooftops, low flying aircraft. Not this jazz.”

“it also says 'tactical atmospheric vertical enveloping capable'.., uhh somewhere in the middle.”

“I thought you said you skimmed it?”

“I did, the middle bit.” And then reassuring. “We'll be fine. We drop in, he won't know what hit him -literally, and basically we keep hitting him- the place- and anything else until it's all dead.”

Honestly, when plans are this simple, I can't help but be upbeat. Sure, in New york we took one in the gut hard. But the whole facility had been nothing but an elaborate trap from the start, and we could count our stars that we only took so few casualties as we did. Still, I didn't blame anyone for not wanting to continue aside from us two Carl and me. And Danny of course, who was willing to provide the necessary transport and all too often needed close-air ground support, or medi-evac, or both.

“One minute boys, going black out and opening rear ramp now.” Which indeed began sliding downward and open, as the cabin lights were extinguished and replaced by a red tactical light above the rear ramp. Wind rushed in whipping around straps and assorted cargo netting while we took our places facing the stormy night sky.

“I still can't swim.” Carl noted dryly.

“Sokay, we're not landing in water.” I retorted cheerfully.

The light went from red to green, Carl mentioned something about being scammed again, and seemingly in slow motion, I let myself fall forward out of the screaming craft flying through the night sky, and into the pelting rain.

Hey, don't worry ol' Andee! I'm still reading every new post you put up!

Your stream of consciousness style of writing is difficult to follow, but enjoyable nonetheless. I've had fun getting reacquainted with Celeste and Princess Stomper and Carl and my favorite - Archie! Also I loved meeting the boys Tom and Aaron. I can't wait to see what kind of trouble they get themselves into.

thanks, it's gonna be fun





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In free fall, you have a few necessities in life you have to keep an eye on, little things, the ones that don't really take up any time at all, but need to be monitored occasionally non the less, and can be dealt with in the way one watches the road while contemplating ones destination. Other than that, one is free to reflect on matters and enjoy the view for as long as it lasts.

The little things, like altitude, which was eight thousand meters and diminishing rapidly, my drop speed, which was over a hundred kph, climbing steadily, and if the manual was anything to go by would hit terminal at a hundred and twenty kph, together made it possible to roughly estimate the duration of the free fall, and the time one had to contemplate the deeper philosophies of plummeting towards earth.

About four minutes.

Give or take. The wind gradient was..., well, all over the place actually thanks to the storm. But we wanted the storm since it would play havoc with any early warning detection sensors that were down there.

Internal guidance was showing some problems, but they were mainly due to the doppler radar having to deal with the storm. read out on the heads up display certainly wasn't helpful -a uniform gray mist across the screen. A weak 3D over lay was projected up on the visor, which would get stronger as the guidance processor received more useful information from the doppler read out, something that was sure to happen as the ground got closer.

Currently the only thing showing up on the Doppler as a solid contact was a large object closing fast from above and slightly behind me. Obviously it was Carl so I keyed the suits comms.

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!”

Collision indicators bleeped red momentarily as he screamed past. I didn't need the display to see him tumbling downward, barely missing me.

“Level out!” I barked into the mike, “Spread out flat and adjust until you're horizontal!” Pulling my arms inward I dropped downward into a nosedive, using both the Doppler display as well as visual to zero in on him, noting my rapidly increasing drop speed go beyond the 'safe terminal velocity maximum'.

“Can't.. level.. out.” Came though over the comms system. “My adjusters are jammed... somehow. The ventral nozzles on my right arm are clogged and I'm tumbling over two axles.” He sounded worried.

“I'll be right there, buddy.” As my proximity readings dropped to tens of meters from Carl, I opened my arms out a little and pulled in my legs, to thrust them forward as I changed position from a nosedive to coming in feet first. The last thing I wanted was to get kicked in the head while approaching him. “Ready in three.., two.., and...”

Carl was still complaining on how he had never liked the idea from the start.





“I don't like it.”

We followed the truck with Celeste and the others in it all the way from DC up to Baltimore, before losing the trail briefly amongst the downtown ruins. That's when we doubled back to where we left Shak and Smiley at the front gates to Zion, having decided to ask the locals directions as well as what they maybe knew.

They knew plenty.

Two hours later we were perched up within the ruins of an old office building observing the compound, twenty five Zulu warriors from the Zion nation, armed for bear and eager to make a kill.

Carl looked up from the scope and over at me. I was still looking through the binoculars but could feel his questioning eyes on me. The entire area that the compound consisted of wasn't small. Three blocks wide with the complete monestary sandwiched in between, but it was at least ten city blocks long from east to west away from the main church buildings and all the way to the old Baltimore Correctional and Behavioral Modification center. That meant a lot of people, with potentially a lot of guns.

“Because one way or the other they used to be brigade, and we don't arbitrarily slaughter our own.” Cutting off his inevitable questioning my reserves to his plan. “Now matter how painted up they've become.” It was the behavioral modification center that had our attention, since it was here that Simba's scouts had seen a truck pull into a few days earlier. This side also had the most security.

“You know they'll kill you in an instant, don't you?” If Carl's remark had been any drier, he would've evaporated.

Simba, Shak's eldest son of sixteen and a man at that age, spoke quietly from where he lay next to Carl, “Fighting the black clad soldiers without shooting them, while they are very much shooting at us, will be a difficult, but honorable victory.” Carl looked over at the youth, and then back at me. He was shaking his head and mouthing 'No hamster cave way!' to me so as the boy wouldn't see it.

It wouldn't do good to bring back Shak's son in numerous small sized Ziploc baggies along with the rest of the pride. Not to mention Smiley probably wouldn't be so smiley anymore.

“Okay, except that won't do either.” Making sure I didn't accidentally offend the young warrior, I gave the sky a glace. “Besides, the weather sucks so today ain't a good day to die.”

Scooting back from our position a bit to where I could sit up, I scanned around with the binoculars. “what we need is some kind of distraction.” Glancing over at where Carl was sitting, “You don't happen to have that cute outfit with you by any chance, do you?” He was quick to cut that one short. Grinning I scanned the surroundings.

“Hokay.. no need to go into any of that in front of the lad. No nee to ever go into that ever.”

“Looked like you got into it pretty well actually.” I was looking for something near by that would make a suitable bang, yet far enough away to lure the security away long enough.

“As in n.e.v.e.r.”

Simba squatted near the men, puzzled by the lack of understanding to what they referred to. He had been taken aside and told in solemn tone, and no uncertain terms by his father, that these were two of the greatest warriors to live in the wastelands, and that the totems poles that told of their deeds were higher than buildings, carved from the tallest trees that could be found.

“Any chance one of them survived? You know for Celeste of course. What with her gams any rainy day becomes a roll in the day...”

“We're pretty high up, ya know?” Carl was gazing over the edge of the building fifteen stories downward to the curb. “I wonder how high the average human would bounce?”

“Uh-huh. This high? Five meters.” Choosing to ignore the unrealistic nature of Carl's threatening intonation, I further examining the ruins of what had once been the city's Penn station and rail yard.

“Mas'sar, there... look.” Simba was pointing at the correctional center. “Top floor. The golems we have been seeing only behind windows. Never outside.” I adjusted myself and scanned the top floor windows, the laser rangefinder gave it at over seven hundred meters away. The kid had good eyes.

“Carl, you see it?” Holding the spotter scope to his eyes while laying behind it, he focused in on the activity inside.

“Bugs here's been eating all his carrots.” Peering through the scope. “Geez they're tiny.” As he caught sight of the beings behind the windows.

I could make out various sized people behind the grime encrusted windows, non of them larger than what seemed four or five feet -gauging from the relative window size. Stocky built, with large heads but with a strange bobble to their walk that you didn't associate with the way children walked. More in tune with little people.

“He's working with Oompa Loompa's?” As crass as it was, Carl's assessment wasn't far off. It looked for all the world like dwarfs up there.

“Errm.. yeah. We'll deal with the munchkins later.” Shifting back to the train yard. “Carl. See the choo-choo's?” He did.

“Oooohh.., twains.., yaay!” Trains meant loc's, which meant either diesel or nuclear operated, and that meant plenty to blow up. We had our diversion.





“IMPACT!”

My legs clamped around Carl's waist and immediately I was sucked into his tumble, both of us joined at the hip as I held on while we spiraled downward and sideways through the gail.

“For fucks sake, Andy!”

“Gotcha!”

In what was more luck than planning I had clamped Carl at almost the perfect time during his spin, and could easily position myself and get at his suit. To anyone falling beside us it looked like I was riding a wild bucking horsey in a storm.

“Yiiiii-ha! Ride 'em cowboy!” I hollered. Carl, who was less amused, had a few choice words to say about the matter while I went to work on his equipment. I was sure I heard a thank you Dr. Strangelove somewhere in there.

The Praetorian assault suits have as part of their functionality to help stabilize during vertical incursions (ie. falling), large membranes fitted over the torso that take in the air, heat it and then guide it away from the body out of the ventral nozzles that were laid out along the back of the arms and legs during free fall. These nozzles then acted as adjustment thrusters in leveling out the suit and it's occupant and allowing for the deployment of the suits winglets that were much needed to increase their fall ratio.

Praetorian suits were flysuits like normal fitted types since for one the Praetorian armor had the glide capabilities built in as an after thought, where as with others it was a damn high priority.
But the adjustment thrusters were unique to the suits as far as I knew, taking airflow away from the body and after heating it, guiding it back through nozzles that ran along the lower arms and calves of the armor.


To avoid ice forming in the tubes there was a small heating element on the back of the suit, and as irony would have it, a large dirty hail stone had lodged itself, jamming the mechanism.

“Done and done.” I waited until Carl confirmed that everything was back in the green and functioning properly before breaking away for maneuvering space.

Lets fly brother.




“Lets go brother.” Watching as Carl laid the last of the charges in and amongst the train locomotives of Baltimore's Penn station rail yard.

“Are you sure this will lure 'em out long enough?” He asked while rolling out the charge wire behind him to a central radio controlled detonator.

“There's always plan 'B' if you want.” With a pair of wire strippers it was easy work to connect everything up. Then it was just a matter of checking the batteries in the detonator -very embarrassing thing to forget, let me tell you. Do that once and you'll never forget it again in your life. Assuming you live that is.

“You mean jumping in? Like an aerial assault? hamster that noise.”

At the edge of the train yard we were greeted by a waiting Simba, eager to tell us his Zulu warriors were in place and ready before disappearing into the dark once more. After the train yard blew up they were suppose to fall back north along the rubble of interstate eighty three, hopefully luring the security forces ever further away from us.

Carl and I were quietly making our way south when gunfire rang out behind us. It had to be Simba's group, and it had to be serious or they wouldn't have just opened fire like that. We stopped for a moment to listen. As such we never heard them approach.

“Those are the Redemptioners 'and with their cleansing flame shall they cleanse the un-clean until they are deemed less un-clean, and can go forth into the heavens known as only grimy' said He.”

“Waaa?!” I spun first, and nearly took the head off of a young woman, twenty something if that. Her hair was cesnut, and combed straight where it was held together with a simple ribbon. Her simple gray school uniform, complete with pleated shirt and knee high socks, couldn't have been a starker contrast with the surrounding wastes.

“Who, what.. where way ho, hang on..”

“He sees you, as I do, and know that He knows all and can smite you at any second He wants t-”

An then, the sweet girl with the chestnut hair that was held together by a simple bow, exploded.

She just hamster cave blew up, sending Carl and me flying.



Flying, as a word, I always found to be something of a stretch when it came to the Praetorian suits. 'Falling with severe attitude' seemed to fit the bill more accurately I always felt, with the suit having all the flight characteristics of a bath tub full of water, sloshing around in the air.

Thankfully all we had to do was follow the river northwards and hit dirt on the east side of the river and on this side of Mc Kees bridge. At just over two thousand meters we flew past the Ohio river forks, that which gave the city of old it's name 'city of bridges'.

“Ready to knock on the door?” Carl wasn't. He still wanted pie.

I cued a signal on my wrist and somewhere above us Daniel launched Serenity's payload, sixteen self guided air to ground bunker busters with a five second delayed fuse, all homing in on predetermined targets we'd marked earlier while on the ground, dialing them into Serenity's fire control processor using the rangefinder while we scouted the place.

The Doppler beeped excitedly as a cluster of solid contacts emerged high on the outer edge of my scope; dead ahead, falling fast and we were right behind them.


Knock, knock.

Who's there?

Boo.

Boo who?


Yep, it was pain time.

Now this was downright creepy. Yikes! I hope Andy and Carl were wearing heavy-duty armor when the hamster cave hit the fan!

Ya gotta watch out for the forum swear filter. We have a little fun with it here. When we refer to someone as a British boat, it ain't a compliment! SubRosa once did an experiment where she typed in a bunch of dirty words, and some we didn't think was so bad, then hit preview to see what the forum did with them. Makes no sense, and I liked the [censored] we get over at Bethesda better. But sometimes what happens here is quite funny!

Hi, Old Andy! First, thank you for bringing new utility to the already delightful word “hamster.” I know the forum did it, but before now I wasn’t sure what it meant.

I’ll admit to some head-scratching in the very beginning, but I found it easy to follow the transitions in these last two updates. I’ve enjoyed all of the dialog, but the Carl and Andy parts are my favorite. Wow. I am along for the ride, and loving it!!

And, Andee....thank you for making Carl, Archie, and the whole vivid crew born from your imagination live again.

I may not always be able to comment - you know the reason why - but rest assured, I ALWAYS read every post of yours!!!

Thanks Grits I've gone back to std [censored] line... although I might toy with #@$%!!&* and the likes.. dunno


Thanks Dee



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey hey, my my
Rock and roll can never die
There's more to the picture
Than meets the eye.
Hey hey, my my.





“Oh [censored]..., that hurt. I'm gonna feel that in the morning.” And my head was already pounding from lack of sleep, exertion, the trip up here and numerous other forms of stress.

“I'm just glad I can feel.” Carl had picked himself up, and was looking over to where the girl had previously been standing. “Which is more than I can say for her.”

“Christ. All she left was a dent in the planet.” I couldn't believe it. There was a two foot hole in the asphalt where she had stood.

“Yeah.., give a whole new twist to the meaning 'volatile nature'.”

“I was gonna go with 'explosive mood swings' myself.”

“A 'banging personality' maybe?” Carl barely glanced at the crater. we moved onward along the back service road between warehouses packed tight together. Narrow alleyways separated the different buildings, some large enough for two dumpsters side by side, others just wide enough for a single person.

Nerves. It was what was making us crack the jokes. A simple defense measure while the body decides whether shock was gonna move in, stay for the weekend, hog the tv while it drinks all the beer and screws the cat,

“At least we know where she takes her vacations..”

“Yeah, all over Baltimore. Still, she'll go far that girl will.”

Or whether the body was going to tough it out, bottle up all the acquired shock, regret and anguish it had accumulated and deal with it later.

“Yeah, by the looks of it she's gonna go as far as Jersey.” Pulling a smoke from an open packet I had and lighting it, I also held the lighter up to Carl's stogie for a re light. My hands were shaking.

'Later. Definitely deal with it later.'

“Did you see a back pack of any kind?” Trying to focus myself, pushing down the sense of shock to deeper regions, trying to function.

“Nope, and I don't think she was hiding a bomb vest under that blouse.” Carl stated matter-of-fact.

“Glad you took the time to notice.” I smirked.

“I mean, there was a lot going on under that blouse, no questions there. But a suicide vest?” Carl shook his head, “Dude, checking out a woman's rack is second nature to me, like breathing. It's what I do.”

More explosions were heard coming from the train yard behind us. We both looked back in the direction of the fireball rising in the night sky. Carl gave me a glance and I shrugged. With over three hundred meters to our own staging point outside the wall, I certainly hadn't triggered the charges.

“Oh, you think I did that?”

“You have the detonator.”

“I also happen to have exploded girlie all over me! Besides, the safety's still on.”

“I dunno.., maybe it was the explosion?”

“Sure.., a short circuited radio detonation with a two minute time delay, just because.. what? God hates us..” I was thinking more along the lines that Simba had popped the charges manually for some reason.

“Well I uhh.. you maybe. I always kinda thought He liked me-” And that Carl had never been struck by lightening also had to have a reason somewhere.

“ 'They are seeking out the un-clean for redemption by His all merciful love. For He can see all and so shall he-' ”

FUDD!!

FUDD!!

Carl looked over at me, a silenced S&W in his hand, as thin trails of smoke danced whimsically from the barrel. “Whaa..?” The girl dropped slowly to her knees as a crimson cloud of brightly colored blood began to grow on the otherwise stark white blouse she wore, much the same as the other girl had.

“You weren't actually going to wait until she was smite- uhh, smote? Err, Hang on, I know it's not smitten..., it's uhh, anyway, until someone decided to smite her down as well!” Her dead eyes looked up at us, blankly witnessing Carl's grammatical triumph over everyday speech. I was going to comment on the somewhat harsh nature of his preemptive actions, but considering current events, I was actually going to agree with him for once.

Then the dead girlie blew up as well.

With wooziness quickly winning ground from clarity, and consciousness fast on it's way out the door, the one thing that kept going though my mind was how the hell were these girls exploding?


Out of the blue
and into the black
They give you this,
but you pay for that
And once you're gone,
you can't come back
When you're out of the blue
and into the black.





As the warheads impacted beneath us we braced ourselves for our own landings. We came in hard amongst the explosions, I landed first, then felt Carl land rather heavily nearby.

“Oomph..”

Tanks. Officially spelled 'tanc', which stood for TActical Nuclear Capable. The heaviest load out that the Praetorian Powered Armor Assault Suit, and the Institute, had to offer. First the stealth unit was detached, freeing up power that was then rerouted to the shoulder mount, giving the plasma system some serious teeth. Then a truck load of extra armor was stuck on basically everywhere, beefing up vulnerable parts and reinforcing everything else. Of course, all this extra made for an somewhat rougher aerial incursion.

“Dayum but someone's getting fluffy.” Not waiting for a response, I surveying our surroundings. With thermal imaging next to useless with all the heat from the explosions, the low light settings in my helmet equally non functioning and all the smoke, I was reduced to mark one sensors -in other words; I was eyeballing the place. “Not that I didn't just feel that, but where you at?”

“Empty field next to the big chemical pipe building thingy.” Carl was also scanning for any signs of movement. “With emphasis on empty.”

“I'm just north of your pipe building thingy and behind a second building where the pipes go over.” We were in some kind of chemical refinery plant, with the main refinery bit out front a maze of corroded pipes, rusted distillation columns, and different colored transport pipes with peeled paint that sprouted along suspended support struts off to the other buildings.

“Next to the ugly admin building?” Those other buildings -Carl's ugly admin building among them, were set side by side along a service road. Beyond the road was a seriously long production hall that ran the entire length, and on the fall side of that was another production hall, which was even bigger than the first one.

“Uh-huh.” I ran, figuring where ever Carl was, the situation would soon get real interesting.

“'Kay, I'm dead in front of it.” He mentioned while kneeing down as ballistics shield fanned outward from his forearms. The shoulder mount came to life as Carl keyed it's controls, while the plasma weapon charged. In this position with arms raised like a boxer taking a defensive stance, all the extra armor plating and the shields in place, Carl could withstand everything up a direct RPG round.

At that moment gunfire erupted and dirt was kicked up all around Carl's feet, while rounds ricocheted off the armor.

“Obviously an untimely usage of the word 'dead'.., Andy? Things are getting mighty interesting over here, buddy.”

“I'm hauling wazoo as we speak. You okay over there?” The gunfire intensified as I ran along the buildings, careful to stay in the shadows and up against the walls.

“Sokay, I'm fine. I doubt they're packing elephant rounds in there.” He reassured me light hearted.

Ffffft-TONK!

“But they're packing a few .308s for sure.” Although it seemed that Carl's banter was getting a little strained, to say the least.

“Hang in there, I'm all over 'em.” Checking possible avenues of approach as I hurried to the next building.

“Well hells bells, that was the plan, wasn't it? I mean I'm not sucking up all this incoming fire for nothing, right?!?” Make that; Carl's banter was getting seriously strained.

Our plan had been a simple one ,centered around a stratagem call the 'Tom & Jerry', although I suspect it may have once had a more official military term. Hammer and anvil, a rock and a hard place, tactical redeployment along a flanking advance... whatever. In a nut shell, Carl was the bait and acted as a bullet sponge, soaking up incoming fire. Then I, doing my usual sneaky git routine, close on the opposing forces engaging Carl and neutralize them, sneaky like.

Coming around the corner I saw the side of the ugly admin building, with a door, a landing on the first floor leading to the door, and a fire escape that led to the landing. Shouldering my rifle I climbed to the landing in no time and was about to deal with the door and any possible lock situations when it opened towards me and two goons stepped out.

“I hate being the tank.” I could hear Carl mutter over the suits short range communications system. With our helmets, face-plates and everything fully sealed against all known forms of nuclear, biological and chemical agents, I could yell pretty loudly before anyone heard me outside the suit.

“Uh-huh, and you always say you want to be the center of attention.” Waiting for goon number two to exit the door -the first one had turned towards the front of the building where Carl was, I grabbed his rifle by the barrel and cupping the back of his head in my other hand, slammed it into the fire escapes railing before upending him over it and silently onto the ground below.

“Sure, when they're chasing me, all sleazy, intoxicated and bursting with animal lust. But *not* when it's incoming automatic fire!”

Goon number one didn't even hear it at first, what with the gunfire exchange between Carl and whoever was still inside the building making a ruckus. “Be glad of one thing at least.”

As he turned I was more than ready for him, stabbing him in the throat as I pushed him back into and over the railing, pulling my knife free as he fell.

“What then?”

“They aren't chasing you, prim, proper and just bursting.”

I was in.


The king is gone
but he's not forgotten
Is this the story
of a Johnny Rotten
It's better to burn out
than to fade away
The king is gone
but he's not forgotten.





“Andy.. jesus Andy c'mon buddy.. wake up.”

“Where's the toilet mommy, I think I need to potty...”

“Sssht.. they're close by.”

More or reality was swimming into focus, while I was feeling like I'd just gone fifteen rounds against a stubborn tow-truck. Carl's face focused, and I saw him holding up a finger for silence.

So I laid there, silently looking at the rafters above. We were inside somewhere large. I went through basic check list. Everything hurt like hell, but nothing seemed completely busted, except the pounding in my head, which hurt like hell on steroids. And my ribs, still tender from the friendly chat sessions I had with those lovely ladies at the WWCA compound. At least they didn't blow up everywhere.

“We're okay for now.” Having just assessed my own bodily situation and general heath, I filed that one under irony.

“But there are more of those Bursting Betty's out there.” He looked at me. “Can you stand?”

“I'm still laying on the ground.”

“Yeah, but can you stand?”

“Lemme sit for awhile, see how that flies.” As I sat up, my head was indeed flying. Too bad my body was still somewhere on the floor of that warehouse. “Hey, you know what?” I asked, sliding back into a more horizontal position, staring at the rafters again.

“What?” Carl was checking the window again.

“Maybe we should've checked out that church more thoroughly.” All I wanted to do was sleep.


My my, hey hey
Rock and roll is here to stay

Hey hey, my my
Rock and roll can never die!

Holee Shee Yit Andee....



This is CARNAGE in the Andee style! Bursting Boobalicious Bomba Babes (I hope you know what 'bomba' means in Tagalog) Bragaddioc Blusterous Banter, and Rock n Roll to Shok our Souls....


all ah'm gonna a-say is a YEAH YEAH YEAH WOO HOO HOOOOO!!!!

I'm working on it Andy, have just had a bit of a hectic period, lol.