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Post by God Mike on May 16, 2011 22:57:02 GMT -7
"I don't even have to fly." Mike didn't like this guy. Mr. Viagra didn't like his nickname, and because of that, Mike didn't like him. It was petty, but that was Mike. "I can be co-pilot while your friend Mike here does all the flying. I'll just be there to do the system checks and make sure everything goes right. You don't even have to set me up with supplies afterwards, I'll just up and leave! You'll never see me again unless our paths cross without our knowing!"
This fucker was talking about how inexperienced they were compared to him. He probably didn't mean it as an insult, but Mike still felt insulted. Or maybe he did mean it as an insult! Mike narrowed his eyes at the man. Smooth move, Mr. Viagra... He'd made it so that Mike couldn't tell if he meant to be insulting or not...
"He has a point, Mike." Joe said, making Mike raise an eyebrow and glance at him. "Neither one of us knows how to properly fly a plane as big as that, and he's been trained by the government to do so under far more stressful situations. We can't do everything ourselves, Mike. Especially since you've only had one experience flying a helicopter, probably much, much smaller than a C-130, and you crashed said helicopter. Me, I only know the theory behind it. But Mr. Viagra over there, knows these beasts like the back of his hand. He can get us across the Atlantic, onto a safe airstrip, past flak and missiles, and then we never have to see him again."
"Hey!" Mike protested, glaring at Joe. "I only crashed the helicopter because the instructor was going," Mike, who'd been speaking very quickly, spoke slowly now, as if imitating a slow-mo scene, "aaaaaaand nooooooow, tryyyyy riiisiiiiing aaaaa little mooooore... Iiiii aaaaam soooo fuuuckiiiing booooriiiing..." Reverting back to his normal self, Mike shrugged. "I added that last part."
"And the deal is there; you still fly, he makes sure the plane doesn't malfunction, and if he tries something, we can still slice his throat." Tempting... Very tempting... "I hate it as much as you do, but the facts are there. We can't refuse them, we can't pretend they aren't there like we always try to do. I would personally put two in the back of his head and be done with it, but I want to get over to the Atlantic in one piece and without any new scars."
Mike, childish as ever, stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry at Joe as he holstered his guns. "You can be such a killjoy sometimes. Not wanting any new scars? What is a couple of scars compared to crashing a massive fucking plane into, like, the leaning tower of Piza, or something like that. But fine, we'll do it the boring way, I suppose... Not that there's any fun in that. But if he tries to take control from me, I'm shooting him." Mike looked to Mr. Viagra. "Hear that, Mr. Viagra? Try to take controls from me, and I'll knife you, shoot you, eat you, crap you out, and light you on fire!"
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Post by Generalfoley on May 18, 2011 1:47:26 GMT -7
"You can be such a killjoy sometimes. Not wanting any new scars? What is a couple of scars compared to crashing a massive fucking plane into, like, the leaning tower of Piza, or something like that. But fine, we'll do it the boring way, I suppose... Not that there's any fun in that. But if he tries to take control from me, I'm shooting him."
Joe nodded. He was fine with that. Joe looked over at Vincent, who, while irked by the threat, was smiling like a madman. Well, technically, he was a madman, but that wasn't the point. The man was thankful he was alive, that much was clear. Joe looked at his back with serious yet weary eyes, the bags under them showing themselves once again. Joe looked up, and felt water pound his face. He almost forgot it was raining. Joe looked back at the hanger and covered his eyes with his goggles, grabbing his boonie hat out of the Jeep. He placed it on his head, and walked into the hanger.
He looked around and saw Vincent near the C-130, a massive beast with wings. Joe somewhat ignored the plane, still in an unnoticed awe, but walked over to Vincent, who was unloading various supplies from a variety of old and eaten away wooden crates. Joe looked back up at the C-130, and wandered toward the door.
By god, it was just as fuckin' huge on the inside as it was on the outside. Joe looked around and climbed up the stairs leading to the cockpit, a slight grin growing on his face. The young Irishman took a seat in the navigator/electronics section, analyzing the various buttons and knobs and switches and so forth. He was rather confident that he could fly this if one of their two pilots went to sleep or was knocked out. Or if they were dead. That was a perfectly distinct possibility.
Joe looked around and found the release for the back doors, and pulled on it, so that they could get the Jeep in and lock it down. The sound of pneumatic pistons was music to Joe's ears as he walked down the steps and out toward the back of the plane, seeing if they had not only enough room, but to see if they had everything they needed.
Joe walked out the back of the still opening ramp, and around the plane. Joe tossed the keys to Mike as he walked towards the Jeep. He took out his rifle, unfolding the stock, and motioned to Mike with his head.
"I'm going to see if there's anything we can use in the other hangers, like fuel. Keep an eye on Mr. Viagra, will ya?" Joe hoped Mike would keep calling Vincent that for the rest of eternity. Mr. Viagra... Why didn't he think of that?
"I still take offense to that name!" Joe heard Vincent shout out of the hanger. He shouted back, "Stop being a pussy about it!" Joe walked over to a nearby hanger, and flattened himself against the wall beside the door. Taking a deep breath, Joe whirled around and kicked the door down, aiming down his rifle.
A Jumper leaped out at him, and Joe fired several times as he shouted in surprise. Knocked to the ground, Joe stopped the Jumper from taking a bite out of him by holding up his rifle, the ghoul's ferocious maw chomping on it. Aw, man, and he had just re-purposed it!
"Mike!" Joe shouted as he punched the Jumper in the side of the head. No good, only made it angrier. "A little help!" Then Joe got an idea. Not exactly a smart idea, but an idea none the less. Joe took out a flash-bang grenade that they had saved from that store in Vegas, pulling out the pin. Just as the Jumper's powerful jaws crushed the remains of his rifle, Joe shoved the flash-bang into it's mouth, and kicked it's chest, hard. Scrambling away as fast as he could, Joe was brought to his knees by the bang from such close range.
"Owwww," Joe groaned as he picked himself up. "Not my smartest idea."
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Post by God Mike on May 18, 2011 2:40:58 GMT -7
Mike easily caught the keys thrown to him and got into the Jeep, starting her up. "I'm going to see if there's anything we can use in the other hangers, like fuel. Keep an eye on Mr. Viagra, will ya?" Mike nodded and hummed happily as he started up the Jeep and drove it into the hangar, gaping at the sight of the massive plane that he was gonna fly. This was gonna be so fucking boss! Mike couldn't help but laugh in excitement as he saw it.
Backing up the ramp in the back of the plane, he parked it and made sure to strap it down, pocketing the keys and then rushing into the cockpit. Cackling, Mike sat down in the pilot's seat and grabbed the yoke, grinning like a Cheshire cat. He found a headset nearby and put them on, over his hood.
"This is Redbird, target sighted..." he muttered into the mike with a coarse voice. Now, Mike started making airplane noises, along with swishing noises as he pulled and turned the yoke. "Engaging!" Mike started shaking the yoke as he gave off his impression of gunfire, his eyes widening when he heard what sounded like real gunfire. "Wow, awesome, I'm like that Police Academy dude. I can make real sound effects!"
"Mike!" he heard Joe shout in the distance. Maybe that gunfire wasn't just Mike's awesome sound effects? Throwing himself out of the pilot's seat, Mike rushed out of the cockpit, and out the door, jumping to the ground. "A little help!" Had Mr. Viagra done something?
Rushing off, Mike ran in the direction he'd heard Joe's voices coming from, and spotted him, just in time to see Joe kick a Jumped off of him. "Joe!" Mike yelled as he pulled one of his guns, taking aim as the Jumped turned its head toward Mike, giving off a shriek. It was, however, cut off, as a bright flash erupted from its mouth, along with a deafening bang.
Mike stumbled back, blinded, and tripped on his own feet. "Fuck!" Mike yelled out as his back slammed into his back. His vision started clearing, just in time for him to grab a hold of the neck of the Jumper, which apparently decided that Mike would make a better meal. Its face was just a few inches away from Mike's, and its breath was almost enough to make Mike vomit.
His arms were getting weaker as the Jumper pushed and pushed against him. This was getting dangerous! He couldn't risk reaching for his guns. One arm wouldn't be enough to hold that freak back! Holding one hand against the freak's forehead and one under its jaw, Mike decided to put his ninja training to good use and reached up with his legs, wrapping them around its neck.
Mike had learned from Miyagi fifteen different ways to break a mans neck. This was one of them! Mike twisted. However, where there should have been a snap, there was... nothing... Mike had only a few seconds to go wide-eyed, before the Jumper pulled back, flinging Mike with it and sending him flying away. Giving off a startled cry, Mike slammed into the asphalted runway, groaning in the rain as he lay on his stomach.
"Ow..."
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Post by Generalfoley on May 19, 2011 17:17:29 GMT -7
Joe blinked as hard as he could several times. The bang had caused a persistent ringing in his ears, causing him to lose some of his balance. He tried to look around, but his world was swirling. Then something occurred to him. Mike was there. And so was the Jumper. Joe tried to yell out a warning, but all that came out was a gasp for air. Joe's world stopped swirling long enough for him to see Mike struggling with the Jumper.
Joe reached for his holster, having some difficulty pulling the pistol out. Damn grenade-induced Vertigo. Joe tried to aim at the Jumper, but it was moving too much for him to get a clear shot in this condition. But then the Jumper leaped off Mike, who screamed as he was taken with it before hitting the wall, allowing Joe to take a breath of relief. Until it landed on him again.
"Fuckin' eh!" Joe yelled as he kept the creature away. Joe felt a sharp crushing pain in his leg as one of the Jumper's legs started to press down on his own, crushing the bone beneath. His arms were burning from the effort of keeping the undead beast from devouring him. As he kept the creature's maw away from his face, Joe's brain started to rush through his memories, almost on instinct, to try and find a memory that he could use against the Jumper, analyzing each moment, each adrenaline filled second. He arrived at the most recent memory of the Jumper, when he punched it in the face. As his mind analyzed the memory, Joe's eyes widened as a revelation hit him.
The Jumper felt his punch.
Sure, it didn't register the pain aspect of the strike, but it still had a semi-functioning nervous system. It could feel it's meal through touching it. The undead couldn't feel. The had sight, smell, and hearing, but not the sensation of touch. These creatures, these undead Jumpers, they evolved, truly evolved, from normal ghouls.
Joe's fear of the Jumpers grew even more so because of this revelation. And his grip slacked barely, just barely; that was all the Jumper needed. It's jaws started to near Joe's face, it's breath stunk of death, Joe's heart beating faster and faster from fear and pain.
The Jumper's attention quickly turned to the right as it hissed angrily. Joe could see the blood seeping out of the Jumper's ears. Must have been from the flash-bang. A shot rang out, and the Jumper slumped against the young Irishman. The weight of the Jumper knocked the wind out of Joe as he tried to push it off. Vincent came over, a bolt action hunting rifle in his hand as he grinned like the madman he was. He kicked the Jumper's corpse, as Joe could now see the creature's brains splattered across the tarmac.
Vincent pulled Joe up by his shirt as he said, "I think this makes us even for the chair, sport." Joe's eye instinctively twitched at the nickname Vincent had given him when he was younger. The younger Irishman ignored Vincent for the moment as he tried to walk over to Mike's groaning body, but felt great pain in his right leg. He grimaced as he adjusted his footing, his walk turning into a limp. Vincent followed, his rifle at the ready.
Joe arrived at Mike, shifting his weight to his good leg as he held out a hand to help his friend up.
"Thanks, Mike, for helping me out." Joe said. "But we still got our asses kicked, and we had to have Mr. Viagra save us." Joe chuckled. "Imagine what that'll do to our reputation!"
Vincent huffed at the nickname as he kept a lookout for more of the undead.
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Post by God Mike on May 20, 2011 22:34:18 GMT -7
As Mike groaned, he heard a rifle firing, and figured that the Jumper was dead. Good riddance. Mike looked up, to see Joe standing over him, holding out a hand. Mike took it and allowed himself to be helped to his feet. His ribs were killing him.
"Thanks, Mike, for helping me out." Joe said, and Mike grunted as he dusted himself off. "But we still got our asses kicked, and we had to have Mr. Viagra save us. Imagine what that'll do to our reputation!" Hearing that last part, Mike stopped and looked at Joe.
"Do to our reputation? But no one with ever know." Having said that, Mike turned his head to look at Mr. Viagra, narrowing his eyes. "No one... will ever... know..." He hissed as he clutched at his ribs. They were annoying... "Damn, I wish Erik could've made an appearance there... We wouldn't have gotten a figurative butt rape if he had... I'm gonna go sit in the plane..."
Dragging his feet, Mike walked over to his revolver on the ground and picked it up, before holstering it and walking off. He headed into the hangar and walked up the loading ramp of the C-130, past the Zombie Wrecker, and straight into the cockpit, sitting down in the pilot seat.
Calmly, Mike put on the headset one more, and then, grabbing the yoke, started making sound effects. "RA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA!" he tried mimicking machine gun fire, although it just sounded like a childish imitation. "This is Redbird, bogie down! Whoosh!"
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Post by Generalfoley on May 23, 2011 16:59:16 GMT -7
"Do to our reputation? But no one with ever know. No one... will ever... know..." Joe chuckled as Mike walked away, talking about how Erik would've been useful in the fight. As if. Erik would die in the process, no matter how skilled he was. Joe saw Mike try and snap the neck of the Jumper in his moment of clarity, and he remembered the Jumper's head stayed in place. That only added more to Joe's suspicions. Joe limped back to the hanger, with Vincent in tow. The young Irishman bent over to pick up his pistol, and mournfully looked at the busted rifle that had saved his life. Nothing more than splinters, now.
Joe limped over and picked up the former rifle, taking out the surprisingly intact clip. They needed the ammo. Joe limped over to the hanger, his broken rifle in hand. He saw the plane again, a large son-of-a-bitch indeed. He could hear Mike playing with the controls, pretending to be a fighter pilot. Joe shook his head, a smile on his face and a chuckle making it's way through his throat. Mike was still such a kid sometimes. Joe walked around and up the ramp, throwing his broken rifle in the bed of the Jeep.
He felt Vincent's hand on his shoulder before the older man said, "I'm going to fill the plane up before we take off. This is our only stop before we have to land in England." Joe nodded, too tired to question why they were stopping in England. Joe limped up the steps, painfully wincing as he worked his way up to the cockpit. Sighing in relief when he got up, he collapsed into the chair and slumped, stifling a yawn. He looked over to Mike, and then looked over the cockpit windows, showing that Vincent was unscrewing the fueling hose and closing the port. He saw Joe looking out, and grinned, giving him a big thumbs up. Joe gave a slight smile and a tired thumbs up back.
Joe looked back at Mike, and sighed. "Wake me up when you or Mr. Viagra are tired. I'll take up your post, and we'll keep flying." Joe stretched in his chair, and closed his eyes.
And then the nightmares came once again.
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