The Legend of Pinkie (© Jesus Riddle Morales) This contribution is part of a series:- 1. The Legend of Pinkie (7-Jan-2006)
| This ultra-violent tale is the last segment in the 'Zombie Bible Anthology'. In they year 2028, a remote-controlled, defense android named 'Pinkie', becomes sentient and goes berserk on the zombie population of the Midwest. | 2. The Legend of Pinkie 2 (11-Jan-2006)
| This is the second part of the 'Legend of Pinkie'. | 3. The Legend Of Pinkie 3 (14-Apr-2006)
| This is the third part of the story 'Legend of Pinkie'. | 4. The Legend Of Pinkie 4 (29-Jan-2007)
| Fourth and final part of the 'Legend of Pinkie'. |
Page 1 Raising Hell
Above the sky of Wichita, Kansas, an entourage of sophisticated air power
was taking flight. Three Dark Falcons, six old Black Hawks, and four Apache
combat helicopters formed triangular flight patterns over the ruined city.
Behind them, nine Air-scooters equipped with fifty-five caliber rounds, and
four Jet-pods complete with long-range flame-throwers, were busy reeking havoc
on a rundown part of the city. Below them, thousands of ghouls ran to
and fro. Some were walkers, some were clickers, and some were runners; whatever
the case, they were all very dangerous and blood hungry as ever. Siting in the
passenger side seat of an old Black Hawk chopper, Vanguard watched as the U.S
Military dealt their fiery blows against the undead mobs below. Vanguard was
not with the army, instead, the CIA ordered him to sit in as an observer. He
was after all, a well-respected member of the most powerful institution on the
planet, namely – the Knight Templars. The CIA had recently taken on these
ultra-violent monks as a substitute, representative militia in U.S borders. After the undead plague ripped apart
civilization, people were forced to live in fragmented societies. The U.S still
kept its basic government intact, but depended heavily on the military to keep
the ever-pressing ghoul scourge at bay. To add more power to their efforts,
they gave legal power for certain organizations to carry arms and raise armies
of their own, as long as they operated as allied organization to the U.S. Among these new and powerful groups were the ‘Agent
Priests’ of the Catholic sects, the ‘Knight Templars’, a religious and military
cult, and the Red Cross, which basically evolved into a single division of
compulsive healing fanatics that regular folk simply called ‘Scabs’. Scabs actually paid no allegiance to anyone,
and much in the same vein as their Red Cross ancestors, this fanatical sect
regularly set forth into the dangerous Dead-zones in search of survivors. They
are a revered and misunderstood group. Apparently, the Red Cross literally bred
and trained new inductees to live a life dedicated as combat medics. To
specialize them further, the division employed no one over four and half feet
tall, and put the pygmy healers through rigorous psychological and medical
training. It’s not really known why these expert healers are stunted in size,
but some say their short stature helps them to maneuver through the massive
rubble of the dead zones and escape undead reanimates by scuttling through
manmade foxholes. Whatever the case, they, like Vanguard’s own group, would
soon find themselves at odds with the U.S army’s hectic war campaign. Currently, Vanguard’s attention was
on the pilot seated next to him. Lieutenant Gray was a tall man with blonde
hair cropped out in a new age military cut. He shouted orders to the other
aircraft behind him like his life depended on it. "Jones – Jones, God damn it, where
were you? I told you stay in restricted airspace. What the hell were you doing,
flying over the ghouls with the biggest tits, or something?" A second later, a voice echoed in on
his com-unit. "Sorry, sir – I took my flight team
over the river to refuel, but we bagged about a hundred of those worm-heads
back there!" "Alright, alright – that’s good for
you, son. I’m glad to see we still got some real damn patriots here, but how’s
it going with those firearms?" "Lieutenant, we got all hell fire
missiles locked and loaded, sir. Where do you want to unload?" Pointing at a huge swarm of ghouls
running rampant around an old barn, Gray gave an order to alienate. "Good God, soldier. Shit, boy, I
thought I told you to flank those bastards on three O’ clock! Oh, well, fuck it
now. Just shove those H Fs’ up their asses! Deploy all hell fires on six O’
clock – near the old barn!" Hearing the Lieutenant’s order,
Vanguard tried to intervene. "Wait, that barn could be filled with
survivors!" Shouted the disheveled knight. "Yeah - well, it could also be filled
with flesh-eating faggots, too. …Or maybe Jim Morrison is in there taking a
shit! …Listen, man – I got orders and I’m aiming to fill them. You were only
sent here to observe, so just bud out of the action and…observe! "Sir?" Replied the flight leader,
awaiting the Lieutenant’s order. "Blow em’ all to hell, Jones – blow em’
all to hell!" [ Continue to page 2 ] |