[The Continuation of Attack of the Mutant-flies (refer back to catch up)]
As we danced in the streets, a new, more evolved form of super-mutant-fly zombies had risen and taken flight. Dyson was among one of the first people to be ripped from the earth and squeezed like a grape during wine season. Screams echoed in my head as they poured in from every direction; the terrified shrieks of countless victims has my ears ringing and mind racing.
|My drawing…what? I never claimed to be good at it lol|
The new form of mutants are juicing the life out of any living thing they come across. They seem to assemble in teams; one for collecting bodies and one for fertilizing and feeding new growth. Unfortunately for the human race, we seem to serve as food, fertilizer and new members of their army. Their system appears to be flawless and at this rate, the world will easily be over run in a matter of days.
|stop laughing so hard at my drawings! hahaha|
The vac-dome sits a few hundred yards away but the area offers very little cover. I run for it anyways. Duck. Dodge. Weave past the obstacles. Jump the hedges and dart inside; shutting the giant door behind me. The hard metal floor is cold and I can hear the thuds as mutants slam the sides. I knew I was more than stoked on fuel but the powerful bug spray was run empty on our previous battle.
I have the power to suck them up but I don’t have a way to kill them, once they’re inside the dome. I’m not sure how much the dome can hold but I have to start somewhere. I’d figure the rest out along the way. I turn the engine over and flip the switches to high. My ears burn from the noise and soon sound left altogether. I could see the doom quickly filling.
The mutants fight madly to fly out of the suctions path but the machines power and the aim of my extension pieces are flawless. The area is starting to clear but the dome is creaking as it begins to reach capacity. I can see bursts of red, like fireworks amongst the dark, as mutants explode under the pressure of one another. This gives me hope for fitting more into the dome before risking its own explosion.
I’ve been driving around for hours, clearing the streets of mutants and lifeless piles of people-goo. The dome has stopped creaking but the cocktail of mushed mutant is starting to ooze from any crack or hole it can possibly escape from. The vac-dome leaves a crimson trail in its tracks. I’ve reached a point of no return and without being sure if all mutants are dead within the machine, I can’t risk dumping it.
Though the mutants have become few and far between – they are still lurking. The vac-dome jerks and sputters to a stop as I notice the gas gauge is beyond empty. Is beyond fumes. I’m stuck in an oversized vacuum full of mutant-mush and I can see the angry family members forming a mob around my now dead ride. There was no way I could leave without being quickly torn apart. I had no defenses left.
For days I sat watching as more mutants gather around the vac-dome: it was as if they were planning an attack. I had killed so much of their army. When they first arrived, they were solely on a mission to grow their numbers but they now seemed merely focused on one thing – the destruction of me. They tried prying the doors, they tried busting the doom and they even tried smoking me out – all attempts were futile.
I had to admit that Dyson/Bissel’s design was flawless. Part of me hated how well it was holding up. I was sleep deprived and losing all hope. I was never going to get out of here and there was no way I could refuel, let alone recharge the slowly fading batteries. One could easily equate this moment to being “Up shit creek without a paddle” as the saying goes.
It was as I lay hopelessly on the floor that I spotted my salvation. It was that moment that I knew exactly how I’d save the world from these mutant bastards. I shut down all power to the vac-dome and hope like hell that I’ll be able to power it back up when the time comes. This seems to excite the mutants, as if they know my time is close to an end – they might be right, but this was still a fight I planned to win.
That night I slept the best I had since this whole mutant-apocalypse began. I awoke to the rising sun with a sense of inner peace. I watched the mutants form into armies that surrounded me. For days the mutants had been coming in from all over but in the last 48 hours I hadn’t seen any new arrivals. Instead I witnessed meeting after meeting as they planned their attack.
By the 72 hours mark, they seemed assured of their plans and ready for a fight. I sat smirking as I watched the armies fully overtook the machine. Within minutes the once sun filled cabin was now cast into an eerie darkness – but my nerves stood strong with faith in my plan. When I felt all armies were in range, I said a silent goodbye, powered-up one last time and reached down for the