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God's Mulligans 2
Chapter 10 - My kingdom for an arm

Chapter 10 - My kingdom for an arm

Rauzchek was looking over the edge of the railing when the cries of the snail-like-alien alerted them to the two bikes heading out from the top of the bridge. Straight spit out his beer.

“Fuck, I think they spotted him.”

Rauzchek’s eyes cast a look of nervousness and doubt as he glanced from the bikes to the guys.

Straight waved him over.

Rauzchek nodded and headed back towards them, his panic causing him to move even slower than on his way over to the railing.

Straight’s waving accelerated as he tried to hurry Rauzchek. If he had been spotted, sneaking back wasn’t going to do any good. They needed to prepare for a fight.

Rauzchek picked up his pace, moving towards them like a bowling ball on legs.

Straight shook his head while Dago drew his rifle and moved to the other end of the alley, covering the rear.

“Get the fuck over here,” Straight said, over exaggerating his come here gesture.

Rauzchek gave up his creeping and bolted toward them, still managing to stay low.

“Mulligan, grab the beer,” Dago said, getting to his feet.

“How about a gun?” Mulligan asked.

“What?” Dago said.

“Can I have a gun?”

“Just grab the fucking cooler.”

Straight grabbed his rifle. “You see anybody coming?”

“Nope, we’re clear,” replied Dago.

Rauzchek rushed over to them, out of breath from stress more than exertion. “What’s going on? Are they coming?”

“Not yet, but get ready,” Straight said.

“I’ve got eyes on,” Dago said.

“Are they headed this way?” Straight asked.

“No, they’re just kinda hanging out in the intersection.”

“Do you think they know we’re here?”

“I don’t think so. They’re just walking around. They don’t look like they’re expecting a bullet in the head or anything.”

“Good.” Straight turned to Rauzchek, “What did you see out there.

“Nothing,” Rauzchek replied.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing, man. It’s just concrete, all the way down to the water, as far as the eye can see.”

“Fuck. We need to get to the other side.”

“Looks like were taking the bridge,” Mulligan said, pumping his fist.

Straight threw a finger in Mulligan’s face, “You’re not getting a gun.”

Mulligan’s mood instantly sank, a frown washing over his usual chipper demeanor.

Dago broke the silence. “A couple of those aliens have hover-cycles. They kinds look like those things we escaped on back when we saved Mulligan from the mother-ship. Except smaller and without the enclosed cab. Even if we don’t take the bridge, those things might be nice for getting around town.

“How many,” Straight asked.

“Just two that I can see, but if those big bastards can fit on there, we should be able to ride two per bike.”

“Any sign of that weird looking tank?” Straight asked.

“You mean the flaccid penis tank? Nope. No sign of it.”

“What, a penis tank? I wanna see!” Mulligan said, rushing towards them.

Straight held out a hand to stop him. “It’s not there, and you already saw it. Remember when it killed those soldiers?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Mulligan, slinking back into the shadows.

“You guys really think that thing looks like a flaccid penis?” Rauzchek asked.

“Ya, it looks exactly like a flaccid penis resting comfortably on a pair of testicle pillows,” Dago said.

Rauzchek tried to peer around Dago. “I mean maybe, but don’t you think the penis part is a bit small?”

Dago shot a glance back at him. “Oh, shit. I forgot we were in the company of Long Dong Silver Kong.”

“I’m just saying it’s unrealistic.”

“I’m more interested in why their weapons all resemble human genitalia, when as far as I can tell they don’t even have penises,” Straight said, effectively cutting off Rauzchek and Dago’s conversation.

“If they’re anything like the lizards back home, they probably have a hemipenis. A penis so awesome that Dodge named a motor after it,” Dago said.

Rauzchek started to say something.

Straight put up a hand and shook his head. “Don’t. Just don’t. Whatever you were going to say, just let it go. If you get Dago started on penis, he’ll never stop.”

Dago shrugged, “I know a lot about penis.”

“I wasn’t talking about that,” Straight said with a smirk.

It took Dago a second to back track their conversation and process what straight had said. “Fuck, you. That was one time. Two times.”

Straight held up three fingers.

“Okay, three times.”

“That I know of.”

“That you know of,” Dago added, not catching Straight’s implication.

“Four!”

“Fuck you Mulligan. Stay out of this,” Dago said.

Straight smiled.

“What are we talking about?” Mulligan asked, turning to Rauzchek.

“No idea.”

An awkward moment of silence passed between them.

Mulligan’s meds made him itchy. He didn’t like silence or standing around. So he did neither “You guy want to watch me count to five? I’m pretty good,” he said, bouncing on his heels.

“Maybe later Mulligan. First, we need to get those cycles. Any ideas?” Straight asked, looking around the corner at the aliens.

“We could ask them,” Mulligan said.

“I don’t think that’s going to work, buddy,” Straight replied.

“You won’t know until you ask.”

“Those bikes are just sitting there. What do you think the odds are of a grab and go?” Dago asked, taking another sip of his beer.

“Where did you get the beer?” asked Rauzchek.

“Hobo stash,” Dago replied.

“I think we’re going to have to take out those aliens,” Straight said.

“You do that and you’re going to be drawing down the fire of that big, sorry, little dick gun,” Dago said, tossing a glance at Rauzchek.

“Hey, I’m not here to judge,” Rauzchek said, throwing up his hands. “You call it what you want. Besides, I hear that size doesn’t really matter. Not that I would know anything about that. That seems more like your expertise.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Fuck, you. If you want to see whose bigger, we can whip ‘em out right now,” Dago yelled, undoing the knot in his Bermuda shorts.

“You two knock it the fuck off,” Straight said.

“You’re just lucky I’m wearing an ape suite, or I’d show you whose bigger,” Rauzchek jeered.

“Seriously, you two assholes are going to get us killed if you don’t knock your shit off,” Straight said, putting himself between the two.

Dago shoved a finger in Rauzchek’s face. “This douchebag started it.”

“Hey, I was just busting your chops, you…” Before Rauzchek could finish his train of thought that he had so meticulously plucked from the air, Straight cut in.

“Dago, your dick is out.”

Dago looked down in shock. His dick was poking above his waist band like a prairie gopher. With a flick of his waist and a quick pull of the cord, he had it sealed in with the expertise of a pro who had used that same move to escape enraged lovers and police in the park.

“Sorry about that.”

“That’s four,” Straight replied.

“Five,” shouted Mulligan. Luckily, Mulligan’s com system had muted the yell to keep from blowing his external speaker. Still, the yell was loud enough that the other ducked from fright.

“Jesus Christ, Mulligan. Keep it down.” Straight cried.

Dago looked around the corner to see if it had drawn any unwanted attention.

“I don’t know why you guys always get to count and I can’t.”

“We weren’t counting,” Straight replied, exasperated. “And even if we were, you need to keep your voice down.” Straight turned toward Dago. “Did they hear us?”

“I don’t think so. They seem to be just rambling around.”

“Do you think we could get one off by itself and take it out without the others noticing?”

“It’s possible. I guess,” Dago replied.

“Okay. Dago, you’re with me. Mulligan and Rauzchek, you stay back and cover us. We’re going to get a closer look.

“Do you think that’s a good idea,” Dago said, nodding toward the odd two out.

Straight glanced at them. Rauzchek only had one arm and was limited to the use of a pistol, while Mulligan was currently limited to finger guns and pew pew sounds. He turned back toward Dago. “I think it will be fine. I’m hoping we won’t need backup.”

“I meant leaving Rauzchek to watch Mulligan,” Dago said.

“Fuck. good point,” Straight replied. Leaving an unruly Mulligan with an inexperienced sitter was asking for trouble. Trouble that could get him and Dago caught in the cross-fire. “Okay. Rauzchek, you’re with me. Dago, you stay back here with Mulligan and watch our six.

Dago nodded. It wasn’t what he wanted to do, but it was the smart call.

Straight motioned Rauzchek to follow as he headed deep into the jungle of abandoned cars. Rauzchek headed after him, keeping his pistol on his side so that he could use his one free and only hand to steady himself against the cars as he hunkered amongst them. They continued until they were only a few cars away from the small alien with eye stalks. From him or her, it was a vast ocean to the next target.

The small alien let out a series of cackles that Straight couldn’t understand. Another alien in the distance yelled back. “I don’t care. Keep looking. The management isn’t going to let us leave until we find something. I don’t care if it’s a toe or an eye, some part of those soldiers had to survive.”

If they wanted body parts, Straight had an idea. He looked to Rauzchek. Fuck, he didn’t have the cooler with him. He scanned the area and realized he couldn’t see Dago from this location. He looked back toward the alien, watching it through the windows of the cars. When the alien turned his or her back to him, Straight seized the opportunity to stand up, make eye contact with Dago, and motion him over, before retreating to safety like a creature from a whack a mole game.

“What the fuck does he want?” Dago said under his breath.

I think he wants us to come over there,” Mulligan replied.

Dago sighed and took the last pull off his beer before setting down on the dumpster. “Come on, Mulligan, we’ve got some bitches to save,” he said, slinging the cooler over his shoulder.

“Like the kind I can pet and hug, or the kind that gave you chlamydia?”

“I guess we’ll have to go find out,” Dago said, maneuvering Mulligan, keeping a hand on his back to press him down and keep him low.

“Okay,” Mulligan replied.

After maneuvering around a few vehicles, they could see Straight ahead. Then he saw the alien. Dago took cover behind a car, jerking Mulligan in behind him to keep from getting detected. From there, they took cover on the other side of the cars, where Dago took the lead, keeping an eye open for alien activity while constantly monitoring Mulligan to keep him low and quiet.

“Holy shit. Took you guys long enough,” Straight said as they finally came near. “What were you doing back there?”

“I was trying to fit my dick in your mom’s ass. Seems like twelve at a time is her max.” Dago said.

“I love your guy camaraderie in the face of danger,” Rauzchek said as they turned to look at him. “Not, really. I’d prefer to not get killed over a your mom joke.”

Dago ignored him as his eyes fell back on Straight. “So, what’s going on, man?”

“Well, I had a plan, but you guys took so long getting here it’s kinda fucked now.”

“What’s that,” Dago asked.

Straight threw a thumb over his shoulder at the aliens, “These guys are looking for residual DNA of those soldiers, and I heard them say they can’t leave until they find some.

“And?” Dago asked with suspicion.

“Oh!” snapped Rauzchek. “I think I see where this is going. Looks like you dodged a bullet,” He said, slapping Dago on the back. “Or should I say load!”

“Actually, I was going to give them Rauzchek’s arm.”

“What?” cried Rauzchek.

“Look man, they find some DNA, they leave, we cross the bridge. Your arm is a small sacrifice for our lives.”

Dago shook his head. “I don’t know man, that seems a bit drastic.”

“Thank you, Dago” Rauzchek said.

“We could just use a finger.” Mulligan said.

“How would we cut it off?” Dago asked.

“What the fuck. Why are we even talking about this?” Rauzchek asked.

“Look, I’m sorry, but the chances of us getting to someone that can re-attach your arm in time is slim to none,” Straight said.

“Fuck you. How about you cut off your own arm and use it?”

“Uh, because yours is already cut off and there’s no reason for both of us to lose an arm. But none of that matters because they’re too far away to do it now, anyway.”

“I bet I could make it with a hand,” Mulligan said, opening the chest.

Dago slammed the lid back shut. “If we can’t cut off a finger, how the hell are we going to cut off a hand?

“Shit, I think they heard that,” Straight said, ducking back behind the car. “They’re all coming this way.”

“Okay, maybe we can’t cut that hand off, but that one is still fair game,” Dago said, pointing to Rauzchek’s still attached hand.

“Fuck you. I’d like to see you cut it off.”

“We don’t have to cut it off we just have to put a hole in your glove and let your suit do the rest,” Dago said.

Rauzchek grabbed his pistol before they could react. “How about I put a hole in you and see how you like it?”

Dago and Straight’s hands went up, signaling surrender.

“Look, man. Now is not the best time for this. Those aliens are getting damn close, and if we can use your severed arm to save us, you, me, and Dago are going to have to use our guns, and that is going to put us all in danger.

“You’re not using my arm,” he said, jerking the gun from Dago to Straight.

“Okay. Okay. That’s fine but me and Dago will have to get our weapons,” Straight said, reaching back for his rifle.

Rauzchek thrust the gun forward, “Don’t fucking move, man.”

His training had taught him to overcome a lot of basic instincts, but it had also instilled a fear of bucking authority, which led to the stupid mistake of thrusting the gun forward.

Straight was a split second away from knocking the gun to the side, taking this bitch out, and then going after the aliens. Then an object went flying over their heads that drew all of their attention as it landed unseen with a meaty thud.

“What the fuck was that?” asked Rauzchek.

“Umm. Not your arm,” Mulligan said, the ice chest open in front of him.

Rauzchek's eyes went from Mulligan to the aliens who were at full attention, not only investigating the object but the direction from which it came.

Straight put his arms down, “Looks like you have a decision to make, fight and die or escape and let them keep the arm.”

Rauzchek gazed out at his lost limb longingly before beating the butt of his pistol against the side of his head, drawing even more attention their way.

“It’s now or never. Time to decide,” Straight said, getting on the balls of his feet, ready to react.

Rauzchek raised his eyes to meet Straight’s and gave a nod. All signs of fear gone. Only his resolute resolve remained. The next moment, he was charging the aliens like some goddamn medieval knight. His pistol dumping all 22 rounds wildly across the battlefield. The aliens returned the fire and a pink penis spike found its home in Rauzchek’s other shoulder, causing his suit to lop off his the arm. He kept running at the enemy with the full intent of kicking some ass, but running is hard when you don’t have any arms to counter balance each stride. He went down hard, landing on his right knee. Pop. There went a leg. He wasn’t sure if he’d been shot or if it was the force of the impact that had torn a hole in the suit. He was too full of rage to care. He kept moving forward like an inch worm as the aliens stood over him with pity in their eyes.

“Just give up, human. It’s over. You have lost.”

Rauzchek looked up at him. As he kicked his leg in the attempt to roll himself over on his back.

“You’re right. It is over. Give up now and I won’t kill you.”

“Human, you have lost all your limbs but one. You are no threat to us.”

“Ya, but the one left is my killing limb. And technically I have two limbs left, but the other is for stabbing the ladies.”

The huge alien shot him in his remaining leg, causing it to pop off. “Now what?”

Rauzchek picked up his head to inspect the damage. “What, this? Your mom’s vagina is a bigger gash than this.”

Under the cover of Rauzchek’s sacrifice, Straight, Dago, and Mulligan had retreated to the safety of a nearby building. The urge to help their comrade had been a strong one, but Rauzchek was fighting for a severed arm in a battle he couldn’t win. Even with their help, what Rauzchek had done was an act of suicide.

“Fuck. That shit was crazy,” Straight said, closing the door behind them. “I can’t believe you threw his arm like that.”

“I didn’t. I told him that.”

Dago grabbed the cooler from Mulligan, ripping open the lid. “Damnit, Mulligan.”

“What?” asked Straight.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that Mulligan threw away my lunch. I mean, thanks for saving us and all. I’m glad to be alive and all, but I’m still kinda pissed that I have nothing to eat.

“I’m sorry,” said Mulligan.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” demanded Straight.

“My summer sausage. Mulligan pitched my sausage and my salad. Mother fucker tossed my salad. Why?”

“To get to your meat.”

“Seriously, what the fuck are you guys talking about?” Straight asked.

“There was no arm,” Dago said.

Straight threw up his arms in resignation, “I give up. I’m lost.”

Dago cringed, sucking air through his teeth before responding, “I never put Rauzchek’s arm in the cooler.

“What?”

“I told you,” Mulligan said.

“There wasn’t room,” Dago said.

“There wasn’t room?” repeated Straight.

“Not after the ice… or the beer.”

“What about the salad and the salami?” asked Straight.

“I figured since there wasn’t room, why not get lunch.”

“You could’ve gotten a bigger cooler.”

“It was the biggest one they had.”

“So, you just left his arm there?” asked Straight.

“Hey, you know as well as me that arm was never getting re-attached. You said so yourself.”

“But you made him carry the cooler around.”

“Hey, that son of a bitch was heavy, and he was happy to do it.”

“Because he thought it had his arm in it.”

“That’s his… You know what? Doesn’t even matter. Even if I had put his arm in there, the story ends the same way.”

Straight was silent for a moment. Dago was right either way Rauzchek would be dead.

“Beer?” Dago offered.

Straight waved it off.

“Last one,” Dago mentioned, holding out the olive branch.

“I’ll take one,” Mulligan said.

Straight nodded in acceptance, reaching out a hand.

“You can’t even drink it,” Dago said, giving the beer to Straight.

“I know. I just wanted to pour some out for Rauzchek.”

Dago hung his head in solace and gave a little nod. He held out his beer to Straight, who held his out also. Their bottles clinked.

“For Mandangilo,” Dago said.

“For Mandangilo,” Straight repeated.

They poured out a little beer for the fallen soldier, but not too much. These were their last beers after all.

“What now,” asked Dago.

“We wait. They got their DNA for whatever nefarious purposes they needed it for. Hopefully they leave.”