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God's Mulligans 2
Chapter 8 - Give me a Beer

Chapter 8 - Give me a Beer

They walked down the street looking through abandoned cars, hoping someone had left their keys in the ignition; They weren’t sure what they would do if they found one, since if you were able to get a car through the traffic, no one would have abandoned theirs. But no one had left their keys in the ignition, because that’s not what people do. Even if their car blew up on the side of the road and they were never coming back for it, they would never leave their keys in the ignition. There are two reasons for this. One. That would require taking the key off the key ring and that seems like a hassle they just don’t want to deal with. Two. Just because they don’t want it anymore doesn’t mean that they want anyone else to have it, either.

The guys were good and screwed.

In the distance, they could hear gunfire. They had been hearing it all day, and had even actively had to avoid it. But now they had to get to the other side of the city and the sound called to them.

Hopefully, the soldiers could hook them up with a ride, be it chopper or whatever. Hell, right now, Straight would take going double on a vespa. These damn flip flops were killing his feet. He started leading the way into the fire.

“Uh, you sure you want to go that way?” Dago asked.

“I’m thinking that’s the only way were going to get where we need to go.”

“Why? Were you thinking we needed to get ass raped by the grim reaper’s scythe?” Dago asked.

“I’m not saying we rush in there, guns blazing, but we should check it out. They might have vehicles we could use.”

“Does this mean I get my gun back?” Mulligan asked.

“We really don’t need a vehicle. I’ve been checking out this map and I think our destination is a lot closer than we originally thought. Probably only a mile or two. Just seems longer because of all the blocks,” Dago said.

“Is that a no on the gun?” Mulligan asked.

“I just want to remind everyone that I’m going to be pretty useless in a fight,” Rauzchek said.

Straight tossed him back a pitying glance. “Hopefully they’ll have those alien bastards dead and done by the time we get there.”

“So, no gun?” Mulligan asked.

“No. No gun, Mulligan. Not yet,” Straight replied.

“That’s probably for the best. Ratty doesn’t like guns,” Mulligan said.

“Whose Ratty?” Straight asked.

“He’s the puppet I killed.”

Dago stopped and turned around. “Mulligan, when was the last time you took your meds?”

“The last time you told me to.”

Dago tried to run the math in his head, but with everything going on, it was hard to keep track of the specific times, but it seemed a little early for Mulligan to take his meds again. But he knew that stress could cause him to burn through the meds faster.

“Hey, Mulligan. Are you seeing anything?”

“No. I’m single, but I ain’t fucking you.”

Dago closed his eyes as he dug the palm of his hand into his temple. “I didn’t ask if you were seeing anybody. I asked if you were seeing… You know what? Just… Are you seeing this puppet now?”

“No, I just told you I’m not seeing anyone, and I would never fuck a puppet. That’s how you get muppets.”

“No, Not…” Dago looked Straight. “Can you help me?”

Straight shrugged in response.

“Mulligan can you see,” Straight paused and then restarted. “Do you see the puppet around here?”

Mulligan pointed to a trash can across the street.

A look of shock came over Ratty’s face who had been hiding in the trash can.

“He’s over there,” Mulligan said.

“Snitches get stitches,” Ratty said, flipping Mulligan the bird.

“You should take another dose Mulligan,” Dago said.

“Okay,” Mulligan replied, as he hit his med button. “Bye Ratty,” Mulligan said to the figment of his imagination, giving it a little wave of his hand.

Ratty replied by pantomiming sucking a dick and then faded away.

“Better?” Dago asked.

Mulligan nodded. It wasn’t better. It was boring, but it was probably for the best.

Straight put up a fist to signal them to stop as they came around the corner.

“What is it,” asked Dago.

“Look,” replied Straight, pointing down the street.

“What are we looking at,” asked Rauzchek, just before noticing a spark of light at the tip of a cannon, the cannon of a tank like vehicle. It had a bulbous body and a short, fat cannon that hung over the wide end of the tank. The light at its top grew in size. They gaped in awe as it erupted from the tip. The ball of light arched through the air over the abandoned traffic, moving slow enough for those in its path to detect it but too fast for them to get out of its way. It came down with a splash, disintegrating everything it touched on the impact. For a second, Straight thought they were using the machine to clear the streets.

Then he saw movement beyond the perimeter of the explosion. It was soldiers, or that was his best guess. He figured civilians would be running from the action, not toward it.

“Hey, can one of you see if you can get them on the radio?”

Mulligan was the first to act. “Hey guys, what’s up?”

Mulligan looked up at Straight. “They want to know who this is.”

“Tell them…”

“It’s me, Mulligan,” he said, turning slightly away as he did so. He turned back to Straight. “I just told them it’s me.”

“Rauzchek, can you see if you can get them?” Straight asked.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Me too? Ya, he’s my favorite Pokemon, but that’s a weird thing to bring up right now. Aren’t you guys fighting? Oh, ME WHO. Sorry. It’s me Mulligan.

“Mulligan, clear the line,” Rauzchek said over the radio.

“Okay. I’ve got to go. Nice talking to you. Oh, looks like one of your guys got blown up. You there? Hello? You there?” Mulligan looked at Straight. “He hung up.”

Then he heard the screams. They all heard the screams and a few shots of gunfire as the screams died down. Then silence. They stood there for a moment, hoping, praying that the gunfire would start up again, that someone had survived.

“What are we doing?” asked Mulligan. “Are we waiting for them to respawn?”

“I think we need to get out of here,” Straight said.

“I second that,” Dago agreed.

“Fucking-A,” Rauzchek added.

“I think we should get one of those tanks!” Mulligan said.

“Okay. Good luck with that.” Straight said.

“We could just ask them.” Mulligan pointed toward the aliens. “They probably know where to get one.”

“I’m sure they do, Mulligan, but it’s not like we can just go out and buy one. And they’re just not going to give us one.” Straight said.

“You don’t know if you don’t ask,” said Mulligan.

Straight turned and began walking in the other direction.“I’m pretty sure I do. Dago, you want to pull out that map and see where we need to go?”

“Already on it,” Dago said, holding the map in front of himself. “Which way was Emases st.?”

“That way,” Straight said, pointing.

“That’s what I thought,” Dago said, spinning around and checking the map before rotating it in his hands. “Uh, I think we’re going the wrong way.”

Straight stopped. “Please don’t tell me that we’ve been walking the wrong way this whole time?”

“I really don’t want to see that cum soaked hobo again,” Rauzchek said.

“I didn’t mean to kill him.” Mulligan said, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.

“Of course you didn’t. No one’s blaming you for that,” Straight said, shooting a glance at Rauzchek that said, thanks a lot asshole. “That could have been anyone of us.”

Rauzchek wanted to comment but was torn between, hey you just shot your hot load into him before he could do it to you, and has anyone seen the movie Puppet Master? But didn’t think either one of those comments would go over very well.

“It’s not like that. It’s worse,” Dago said, throwing a thumb in the alien tank’s direction. “I’m pretty sure we have to go that way.”

“No,” said Straight.

“Yup,” replied Dago.

Straight shook his head. “We’re not even close to the water.”

“Thats what I thought, but look,” he said, pointing between two buildings. In the distance, they could see a structure that resembled something between an observation tower and a fair ride with swings.

Dago held out the map, pointing to a section. “I thought they had just drawn a dick on the map, but look. There it is, a giant dick. And if we came from here,” he pointed to Emases st. “The bridge has to be right there,” he said, moving his finger to the bridge on the map then to the location if front of them. “We just can’t see it or the river because of the buildings.

Straight held out his hand, “Let me see.”

Dago handed him the map.

Straight looked it over, matching up the landmarks with their location. After a minute he replied, “Fuck.” He slammed the map down, crumpling it beneath his grasp. “That can’t be the only way. There has to be a way around,” he said, bringing the map back to his face.

“According to the map, that’s the only one for miles.”

“Fuck,” Straight repeated.

“We should try and get down to the water. There might be a boat or some other way to get across,” Rauzchek offered.

“Good idea. Let’s do it.” Straight said crossing the street making sure to stay low as not to be seen.

Dago and Rauzchek followed, using the cars as cover. Straight looked back and Mulligan was strolling across the road, like a drunk tourist in Vegas.

“Mulligan! Get down.”

“Why? The tanks gone.”

“Because,” Straight screeched in a whisper.

“Because, why?” asked Mulligan.

“We’re looking for pennies,” Dago said.

“Ooh, Pennies!” Mulligan dropped to the ground. “I don’t see any.”

“Ya. Straight’s hoarding them all. You better catch up if you want to get some,” Dago said.

Mulligan picked up his pace, scurrying across the street, his allotropic armor sounding like a clean up brigade following a parade of Clydesdales.

Straight pinched his eyes shut and dragged a hand across his face. It would have been less noticeable letting Mulligan walk across the street, he thought as he shambled to his feet, having made it safely across the street, and into the cover of the ally.

“I still don’t see any,” Mulligan said, getting to his feet and following Straight.

“Sorry, buddy. I got them all,” Straight said over his shoulder as he continued on down the alley.

“You could have saved some for me.

“There wasn’t very many.”

“Still,” Mulligan said with a harrumph.

“You want half of mine?” Straight asked.

Mulligan nodded vigorously, realized Straight couldn’t see him and said, “Yes, please.”

“Okay, but you’ll have to let me carry them because you don’t have any pockets. Sound good?”

Mulligan nodded a little slower, sad that he didn’t have pockets.

As they came to the end of the alley, they also came to the end of their cover. After that was a great expanse of open territory leading to a railing that overlooked the river they could now see. But the question was, were there boats on the other side of the railing, and it was too high to tell from their location. Unfortunately, the bridge was to their right, and it arched high above the river, giving the aliens and the tank that were nestled at its peak a nice aerial view of the surrounding area.

“Now what?” Dago asked.

Straight stood a little taller, almost trying to peer over the railing from his location. “We need someone to see what’s on the other side of that rail. Rauzchek, you’re up.”

“What? Why me?” Rauzchek asked.

“Because you’re the only one that can do this. Me and Dago will stand out like soar thumbs in our Hawaiian shirts and flip-flops. Plus, you have enhanced vision with your helmet and you can see further than us.”

“I only have one fucking arm. Why can’t Mulligan do it?”

Straight stared back at him, his right eyebrow cocked.

“Ya. Okay,” Rauzchek relented. “Fuck,” he said as he prepared himself to cross the great divide.

“Leave the cooler here,” Dago said.

Rauzchek looked back at him, tilting his head to the side.

“That red on the cooler will draw attention,” Dago clarified.

Rauzchek nodded and hoisted the strap over his head, handing it to Dago, who took it from him gently.

“Just keep tight and low. You’ll look more like equipment that way.” Straight said.

“Ya,” Rauzchek replied nervously.

“Just take your time. Were not in a hurry here. It doesn’t do us any good if you get hurt out there. Okay?”

Rauzchek nodded.

“Like I said, slow and steady.” Straight gave him a little slap on the back.

Rauzchek took a deep breath exhaled as he started his journey across the concrete wasteland. A few steps in and Rauzchek was looking back as Straight for confirmation that he was doing okay.

Straight visually scolded him, motioning him to keep his eyes forward. Rauzchek nodded almost imperceptibly before gulping back his fears and moving toward his goal.

After a few more moments, it was clear that Rauzchek had his fear under control. Dago reached into the cooler and offered a beer to Straight. Straight took it without thinking. With the sound of the twist top releasing its pressure, Straight came to a realization. “When did you get beers?”

“I grabbed them back at the grocery store,” Dago said, cracking his own and taking a swig.

“I’ll take one too,” Mulligan said.

“Dago hesitated and then said fuck it, handing Mulligan a beer. He’d figure it out.

Mulligan took the beer, twisted the cap off and brought it to his mouth. It clunked off his visor. Dago reached over and tapped bottles with Mulligan, who still had his suspended pre-sip.

“Cheers,” Dago said.

“Oh, man. This is fucking cruel. I can hold it in my hand, but I can’t put it in my mouth.'

“I hear what you’re coming from. I used to think the same thing every time I took a piss,” Dago said, taking another sip of his beer.

“Speaking of that, do you have any of these that don’t taste like hooker piss?” Straight said, waggling his half empty bottle.

“Fuck you. I like it.

“Ya. I figured you would.”

“Kinda glad I can’t taste it now,” Mulligan said, examining the bottle. “Hey, what’s the difference between Dago’s mom and a truck stop bathroom?”

“Fuck you. I just gave you a beer. Don’t talk about my whore mom.”

“Fine. What’s the difference between Rauzchek’s mom and a truck stop bathroom?

Straight took another sip, forcing it down. “I don’t know, what?”

“When you get done pissing in the bathroom, it doesn’t beg for more.”

Dago chuckled and replied with, “Nice.”

Mulligan tipped his beer to them in appreciation before realizing he couldn’t take a drink. Their attention turned to Rauzchek, who was still creeping across the distance, his knees tucked into his shoulders, his arms wrapping around his legs for support, as he waddled across the great distance. He looked like an obese reject from the lolly pop guild. Well, across between that and a washing machine on tilt.

“Looks like this is going to take a while. Might as well get comfortable,” Straight said, sitting down on the ground and leaning his back against the building.

Dago sat beside him. “At least we’ve got beer,” he said, pulling out another one.

Straight pointed toward the cooler. “Please tell me his arm is at least in there.”

“Ya, it’s in there. The guy at the shop wasn’t going to let me leave without it.”