My Private Global War, Part Fourteen

Updated on November 4, 2019
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Mike is a long-time supporter of procrastination and enjoys doing as often as he can.

A Mission

The General gave us a mission. We needed to get to Atlanta just in case his daughter needed help. I wanted to look for the kids, but he had this faith in Jenny that was unstoppable. He told us we should meet up with Doctor Faith Saunders, and she would help us with the weapon. Goody had this look on his face; I think it was fear. Saunders was once Doctor Faith Saunders Goody, his fourth wife. The one he didn’t mention when we first met. If she were anything like his other four wives, she would be a Brainiac supermodel with bad eyesight. Goody looked like a blonde Marty Feldman, but he somehow married five beautiful insanely smart women. It’s like in those sitcoms were the dumpy man is married to an attractive woman or how that Dax Shepard guy married Kristen Bell.



We left the uniforms back in the bunker, thinking about how they would draw the wrong kind of attention. If we were looking for unusual military, then others were doing the same, and let’s say we didn’t look very military. This was most likely a good idea. We drove for about nine miles before a wave of geese went overhead. A shot rang out than another. Whoever was shooting wasn’t aiming for the geese, but a few of the floating balls among the geese. When the balls went down, the geese scattered. They knew what they were doing. We turned around a corner past a few homes built into a hill with no signs of life. Over the next hill, we saw them — a bright orange Humvee. The kind of orange I would have bought for Browns games. There were two men with 50-caliber Berrett Rifles. They were in uniform but not any uniform I recognized, black slacks, gray shirt with a maroon beret. A flag on their arms was divided evenly between blue and red, with one white star in the middle.

Bigotry

They waved us down, and we stopped because of those rifles. The guy looked us over, staring first at the jeep then at Diana. The first man who I’m calling Bubba said, “why you look like that there, Natalie Portman.” The other man let’s call him Jeb said, “I hope she isn’t. That Portman’s a Jew, and we don’t need any of them around here.” Diana wears a Star of David her grandmother had when she was a child in a concentration camp in Poland. It was all that was left of her mother’s family. She kept it hidden in a place that must have been very uncomfortable. In her life, she never met up with such bigotry. She had more than one fellow scientist dismiss her for her age or sex, but no one had said anything about her religion. The star was tucked in her shirt. First, they wanted to search the Jeep, then us. Bubba wanted to take us in while Jeb wanted to deal with us. Yes, another me-shaped hole.



A call came over their radio, calling them in. Bubba told them about us, and the possibility Diana was Jewish. The voice over the radio told them to come back and leave us alone. The voice said, “don’t worry about killing them one at a time when the President has a plan to end them all in one go.” I felt ashamed I didn’t say anything. I know that it wouldn’t have helped, and Diana had said as much, but still staring into the face of evil made me rethink what pure evil was. Jeb took my sidearm, and Bubba took a roll of aluminum foil, why I don’t know or want to know……...OK, maybe I do. They didn’t search for very long, and they didn’t find our rifles. While they searched, Diana looked at the radios they had seeing the frequency. They left us, and we went listening to them and the others.

Listening In

At first, communication was simple. Whoever Bubba and Jeb were working for had them searching for survivors. We enjoyed listening to Bubba and Jeb down dressed for shooting the alien balls……… Alien balls. I need to grow up. The voice over the radio said, “we don’t shoot our allies.” From there, the radio communication was mainly sightings of the alien balls…... and the boxes. From what we could tell, they thought the coming Aliens were coming to cleanse the earth of the unclean and guess who that was supposed to be. That's right, a ship full of alien Nazis. We are sure they are wrong, but more on that real soon. We went on passing dead deer. About an hour after we met with Bubba and Jeb, they changed their frequency, and we lost our ability to listen.



We headed south until we came to the Uwharrie National Forest. We found a shed big enough to hide the Jeep and spent the night inside. When we woke, we heard something outside; there had to be three hundred identical deer. An alien orb was hovering over one deer. Another larger sphere split into two, and in the middle was the skeleton of a deer. We watched as the deer was built from the inside out. The process took three minutes and was just as gross as it sounds. We counted at least ten of the orbs, and each of them was making a copy of the deer the small sphere was scanning. The aliens were rebuilding their deer army, and we were right in the middle of their staging ground. If the deer could smell us, then they didn’t see us as a threat, and after a full day of cloning new deer, the aliens and deer left heading west.

The Fence

We left the national forest into farm country with open fields. Somewhere around the border between North and South Carolina, we came across a strange style of palisade made from steel posts with thick barbs and barbed wire strung between them. The fencing looked new, but something like this would have taken planning. I mean, someone had to build all the steel posts. We passed another of those red and blue flags with one star. Next to it was a sign saying, “From the ashes, we will build our utopia, on the bones of our enemies, we will build our future.” Another sign said, “All hail, President Boon. Savior of the New America.” The fence went on for miles until it turned away from the road. Diana took pictures of as much as we could see. She noted the latitude and longitude of where the fence started and where it cut away from the road. Oh yeah, we had to take the road with the fence on one side and all the signs saying, “Minefield stay away” on the other.



Sometime around us passing that palisade, we picked up a tail. Our pursuers were using a mix of all-terrain vehicles and small drones, and I mean tiny. One of the drones was no bigger than a swallow, the European kind, not the African. It had landed on the soft roof of the Jeep and became both a tracking and listening device. We went over a bridge, and this is when the bird drone thing came to life and tried to get in front of us. I say tried because it had damaged itself and fell away onto the ground. I saw something fall and not thinking about it. I stopped and went to see what it was. Think of a black box with four arms and rotors coming out from the corners, with no feathers or coconuts. We looked around and saw a dune buggy like vehicle about a mile behind us. Using binoculars, we could see the gray and black uniforms, the strange flag, and, most of all, the twin 50-caliber machineguns mounted on the top. We knew we couldn’t out four-wheel-drive them or even outrun them. What we could do is try and evade them.

© 2019 Michael Collins aka Lakemoron

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