“It’s a Cracker! Shoot it!”
This I will remember always.
Hehe... I did that accidentally at first, but I thought it would be funny if I left it in there.
Also, moar story (7-1/2-PAGE-WARNING):
Chapter 5: Casualties
The remaining thirteen civilians and seven Brawlers were seated comfortably in this airplane, supplies placed towards the plane’s rear. Civilians were glad to have a time of peace to lay down their weapons, converse, and relax. Some took the time to sit down and get to the know the much-more-powerful Brawlers that accompanied them. The only civilian talking to Spawner, though, was Cindy: a civilian that worked with Spawner as the plane’s pilot. She used to be a commercial pilot for the St. Quimby Sub-Sec Inner-City Airport when Brawl City wasn’t a mess. Spawner listened intently as she explained to him the controls of the huge contraption while flying it.
“And that’s pretty much the essentials there,” Cindy finished up. “Really, that’s all you absolutely have to know to fly a plane.”
“Huh...” Spawner said in a bit of wonder. “It actually sounds a lot easier than you would think.”
“Yeah, it SOUNDS easy. Wait until you actually get behind the wheel of one of these bad boys!”
“How about I get in there now?” Spawner said. Soon after, he playfully tried to push Cindy away from the planes controls and get his grubby hands on the wheel. Spawner chuckled a bit as he did so, while Cindy was protesting in a joking type of tone.
“Stop that! Hey! Quit it! Now, back off you big galoot!” she said, eventually pushing him off. Spawner still laughed as he stepped back from Cindy and stood behind her seat.
“Oh, boy... you ever gonna let me fly this thing? I mean, I made it after all...”
“Yeah, but you don’t have a freaking clue how to operate it. Now why don’t you go back there and harass someone else for a change!”
“Alright, fine!” shouted Spawner as he headed to the cockpit’s door, obvious sarcasm in his voice. “I’ll just head back here, seeing as you don’t want me around anymore! Hmph!”
“Oh, shut it, you big drama queen!” Cindy said as Spawner exited. She glanced behind her to see the cockpit door swivel shut. A smile spread across her face as she continued driving.
“What was the fuss in there?” Ray asked, sitting in one of the jet’s seats.
“Nothing. We’re just poking fun is all.” Spawner said somewhat enthusiastically.
Rialto started to mutter something under his breath.
“Spawner and Cindy sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G...”
A blushing Spawner punched Rialto in the shoulder.
“Hey... shut up.”
“Hey, that’s what it seems like!” Rialto happily commented. “You guys have been like a pair of love-sick puppies ever since you got here!”
“I hate agreeing with Rialto, but that’s actually quite true.” Rageblood added from behind a copy of
Red October.
“You... you guys are just reading to far into it.” Spawner said in an effort to defend himself.
“Yeah-huh,” Rialto kept insisting. “Whaaaaaaatever.”
The plane’s seats started filling with laughter. Spawner looked to the floor, trying to hide his reddened face. Rialto leaned over and nudged the embarrassed Spawner’s arm.
“Hey, hey! No problems, Spawner! I’m just messing with-”
A thunderous boom and a shake rattled the whole plane. Civilians and Brawlers fell out of their seats. Spawner struggled to stay up on his two feet. Immediately after the plane steadied itself, Spawner was quick to run back to the cockpit to see Cindy. Brawlers crowded behind him at the doorway.
“Cindy!” Spawner shouted, hands bracing the doorway. “What was that?!”
Cindy was busy fidgeting with the plane’s console’s various knobs and buttons.
“Something hit us hard!” she announced, not looking back to Spawner. “It damaged an engine pretty good! I’m doing everything I can to keep her steady!”
“You keep doing that,” Rageblood almost ordered. “I guess we’re going up top! Let’s go guys!”
Rageblood turned around and shoved a grenade into his rifle’s launcher. He was first to reach the plane’s emergency exit. He picked up a leg and kicked the door open. Wind nearly sucked Rageblood out of the open doorway, as it did for a couple of other Brawlers. Civilians clung to their possessions and chairs to avoid having anything sucked out of the new airway. Without a word, Rageblood leaped out of the plane, zipped along the sky, caught the edge of the plane’s right wing, and climbed up to the top of the fuselage. Soon after that, Rialto, Spawner, and Ray followed. Amira was the last to exit, but she turned to Spike and Beachroller before leaving.
“Guys, you’re best with up close fighting! You should stay here and help out in case Blobs pop up in the doorway!”
Spike and Beachroller looked around to see civilians prepping themselves for battle. It was obvious that Spike and Beachroller were questioning Amira’s suggestion.
“Yeah, okay! Sure!” Spike shouted over the rushing wind. Beachroller had a glare of disapproval. No more words spoken, Amira pulled out her pistol and jumped out of the plane.
Spike turned to look down at Beachroller.
“This guys will be fine without us, don’t you think?”
Beachroller yipped in his Yorkie-like yelps. Spike grinned a bit and headed to the open door.
“Hey, wait!” a civilian shouted. “Are-are-aren’t you gonna help us here?!”
“Hey, you’ll do fine!” Spike shouted back. “You guys are tougher than you think. Besides, the worst we’ll get up here is Eaglets, so just kick some ass here!”
Beachroller gave a yipe of approval. Spike soon after took Beachroller under his arm and followed the other Brawlers. Beachroller still under his arm, Spike used his sharp claws to scale the side of the plane’s torso. When he got there, he and Beachroller observed Ray, Rageblood, and Amira shooting at the sky with their typical weaponry. In the distance, Rialto flew alongside and tackled at Blobs in the air himself, while Spawner was shooting up with a gatling turrent he created atop of the plane.
Spike called it perfectly: Eaglets. These were huge bird-like Blobs with heads filled with rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth (as was usually the Blob custom). Out of their mouths, the tentacles that they called “tongues” wriggled freely like snakes. They had twenty-foot wingspans, and the clawed talons at the end of their long legs were each the size of four bowling balls clustered together. The term “Eaglets” was actually a pun on words. These guys weren’t anything of the sort. Really, they were gooey, fully-grown eagles on an unholy amount of steroids. They were fast, mean, smart, and suicidal. Eaglets were most notably known for their kamikaze charges. But this only made it easier for Brawlers or civilians to fight. The Eaglets could withstand as much melee damage as a Pulper, but their resistance to projectiles was just about non-existant. Too bad they were also good at dodging.
The one thing Spike didn’t call, though, which was probably giving the Brawlers so much trouble, were two clones flying with the flock of Eaglets. Up in the sky, alongside about eight of the bird monsters, were imposter versions of Angelface and Warhawk.
As Spike let Beachroller down to the roof of the plane, they heard the squak of an Eaglet’s dying breath. Amira kept shooting at the rest of the Eaglets. She momentarily glanced at Spike and Beachroller, but was back to fighting. She did a double-take to look back at them.
“Guys!” Amira shouted, ceasing fire. “I thought you were gonna guard the civilians!”
“Pssh! They got it covered!” Spike waved her off. “Eaglets are sinch!”
Rageblood back up and stopped firing his assault rifle to speak to Spike.
“Yeah? Well what the fuck about those clones up there?!”
Beachroller yelped as loud as his tiny voicebox would allow him. Spike looked down with a grin of malice. He picked Beachroller back up, and Beachroller curled up in his hands.
“Rialto!” Spike said to the annoying pest that distracted Eaglets and the clones. “Heads up!”
Spike took a couple steps forward on the plane’s rushing body and chucked Beachroller as hard as he could at the hoard of Blobs. The fact that the plane was rushing in the other direction at hundreds of miles an hour seemed to help speed up the little ball of iron-plating.
*WHACK!!!*The clone of Warhawk let out a blood-curtling cry when Beachroller slammed into him square in the jaw. It plummeted to the ground from the impact, along with Beachroller. Rialto apparently got the message from Spike, because he was rushing down to scoop up the falling Beachroller. He held Beachroller in one arm as one might do with a baby, blasted the Warhawk clone with radiation, and flew back to the plane. Rialto beat his wings as hard as he could to catch up with the plane and drop Beachroller back off into Spike’s hands.
“That might hold him off for a while!” Rialto shouted to Spike.
Unfortunately, it didn’t. The Warhawk clone was back in the game soon after, this time a lot more pissed off. One good thing that came out of Beachroller’s attack was that it drew an Eaglet into a suicide dive. Ray was quick enough to launch a Sunburst shot into its noggin and drop it the the ground far below.
At that moment, the fake Angelface came up alongside the plane. Her wings flapped casually as she raced alongside the jet. At some moments, it looked like she was gliding at the jet’s speed. Rageblood and Amira started firing immediately after seeing the clone. Spawner, after turning his turrent, fired with them. Bullets tore at and took chunks out of its imitated flesh.
Despite having in insane barrage of bullets -and now Sunbolt arrows too-, the Angelface clone drifted closer and closer to the plane. The clone kept on drifting closer until it was directly above the plane. Brawlers looked on horrified, mentally creating plans, when the Angelface clone used Angelface’s actual powers. Its wings grew out wide, and formed a protective ball around the clone’s body. Behind this ball of fake feathers, the clone was regenerating to fill the bullet holes throughout its body. The clone dropped down and plopped its feet onto the top of the fuselage, still hiding behind the indestructible pair of wings. Brawlers shot at the clone to try and bring it down, but to no avail. Spike and Beachroller repeated their teamed attack again and again and again, but they had just as much effect as the bullets and arrow shots. From behind the gigantic wings, they could hear the fake Angelface snarl and hiss in hostility. Not only that, but while the Brawlers were preoccupied, another Eaglet shook the plane and nearly knocked off the Brawlers with a suicide dive. Plus, the Warhawk clone was now firing razor-sharp feathers from its huge wings. And another Eaglet hit.
“Aw, fuck it!” Rageblood called. Now incredibly angry, Rageblood decided to forget about the Angelface imposter marching towards them and hit the Eaglets. It’s a good thing, too, because another one was about to smash into the plane. Naturally, it was shot down.
Then the new version of Angelface had enough. It unfurled its wings at an angle that completely blocked off Spawner’s shots. Its eyeless face glared at Rageblood and snarled some shrill yell that would easily make children cry. Fists flying, the clone of Angelface rushed at Rageblood.
Then,
slam! One moment, the clone of Angelface was there. The next, it wasn’t. Rageblood looked left to see Rialto rushing away from the plane, a purple Angelface in his grasp. Of in the distance, flying to the left and behind the plane, Rageblood could see bursts of flame and green radiation shots emitting from Rialto as he clutched on to the Angelface clone. But to his dismay, Rageblood also saw an Eaglet crash into Rialto, forcing him to release the damaged Angelface clone. As Rialto steadied himself from the Eaglet’s attack, another slammed into him. Then another. And another. And another. Finally, Rialto dropped to the ground like a stone.
Rageblood stood dumbfounded as he watched his teammate for nine months fall to the ground. A Brawler that has become a close friend over time, a Brawler that fought alongside him for what seemed like a lifetime, a Brawler that Rageblood had shared secrets with and grew close to was now sinking to his doom. And Rageblood knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. Regretfully, and his mind clouded with anguish and worry, Rageblood turned away from his friend and kept on fighting.
But lo and behold, another tragedy! Rageblood fought away another Eaglet when the Warhawk clone decided to use Warhawk’s other ability: weather control. Up ahead of the jet, a storm cloud suddenly emerged from the Void’s nothingness. From the blackened clouds of gloom, thunder was loud and booming, and lighting jumped out like a sparkler flame.
“Oh, well ain’t this
JUST PEACHY?!?!” Amira shouted in frustration after noticing the storm cloud.
“Well, this was all your idea!” shouted Ray from the middle of a wind blowing at him.
“Awwwwwww! Shut the hell up and keep shooting!”
Ray turned back to the fight and ducked in the nick of time to dodge an attacking Eaglet. Amira looked in his direction to see the Eaglet now charging at her. The surprise knocked her back, but she fired off a bullet that blasted the Eaglet off course. It barrel-rolled over and over to the front of the jet. It started to nose dive once it passed the jet’s nose, and a hit from a lightning bolt vaporized the immense Blob.
But it’s probably safe to say that trying to keep your balance on top of a cruising learjet isn’t easy, especially when there’s a group of monsters that decided to attack you while you were doing so. When the Eaglet’s pass knocked Amira off of her feet, it took away all of the balance she had on top of that plane, too. With no footing left and nothing to grab on to, Amira started to slide off.
“Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn!
Shit! MOTHER FUCK!!!"she accidentally swore as she flailed her arms to try to grab on to something.
Despite her busy arms and fingers trying to cling desperately to the jet’s smooth body, Amira kept on slipping down the fuselage’s slippery slope. Fear flooded into her golden eyes as water filled an ocean. Her teeth gritted in frustration. Amira’s eyes darted all over and around her in an inaudible plea for help. As she looked around, her eyes caught glimpse of her handgun skidding away past her and falling to the Void’s pure-white ground.
The rest of the Brawlers were running as fast as they could on this huge missile of an aircraft to reach Amira and pull her back up. As they headed her direction, they all almost fell off with her when an Eaglet rammed into the learjet yet again. Now smoke started billowing to form a smogging trail behind them. This was enough to knock Amira off of the fuselage. She bumped her way to the bottom of the plane’s body, but was now barely clinging to the edge of the right wing, ready to go at any minute.
Ray’s face twisted in the most angry form anyone could imagine. He snarled and turned away from Amira and face the remaining Blobs.
“Gah-DAMNIT!!!” he shouted as if the Blobs would listen. “
GIVE US A BREAK!!! JUST LEAVE US THE FUCK ALONE!!!!! WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LEAVE US ALONE?!?!?!" He took off towards the plane’s tail, firing off as many Sunbolt shots as he could at once. He suddenly remembered Spawner’s turrent, which was now unoccupied. Ray jumped over to that and fired up at the remaining Eaglets and the Warhawk clone, yelling some sort of war cry as loud as his lungs would allow.
Rageblood, Spike, Spawner, and Beachroller jumped down to the plane’s wing. Spike was the first to scoop up Amira’s hand and pull her towards him. Rageblood and Spawner were close behind, pulling on the back of Spike. Beachroller, though he was much smaller than the rest, was using his teeth to pulled on a Brawler’s pant leg and help out the effort as a whole. Off in the distance, Ray could be heard firing the turrent’s bullets and shouting various threats to the Blobs tailing them. Lucky for them, the jet had yet to be hit by any lighting. Civilians, weapons in hand, were watching out their windows in suspense to see Brawlers pulling on the ragdoll that the wind had made Amira into.
Amira, too shocked for words, stared helplessly at the Brawlers that were pulling her away from the grips of gravity. They strained as they tried to hold on to Amira and step back to give her a place to stand. At the plane’s smooth surface, though, it was tough to stay in step in 200-mile-an-hour winds while keeping 130 pounds of flesh from flying into oblivion. They had managed to gain some steps back at pulling Amira to safety. Amira, though, finally took a look at the feet of Spike, Rageblood, Spawner, and Beachroller. That’s when she noticed that, really, they were losing more progress than they were gaining. For every two steps they pulled her back, the wind was bring them three feet closer to flying away. Amira went straight from horrified to determined.
“If we keep this up, we’re all done!” Amira shouted.
“What was that?!” Spike shouted back between grunts of muscle power.
But Amira didn’t answer. A stern look about her face, she yanked her hand out of Spike’s grasp. Spike looked horrified, shouting and reaching out for Amira, once he realized that she had slipped away. Soon, the rest of the Brawlers had a look that showed they were questioning the fate of Amira as she was whisked away. Amira’s last hope, the open doorway on the plane’s side, was lost when she tried grabbing for it, but missed. Head over foot, she spun away in 360-degree loops.
Before she could hit the plane’s tail, the Warhawk clone decided to pay Amira a visit. It flew up next to the plane as the Angelface clone did before, and grasped to the back of her head. The fake Warhawk had a roar that sounded mostly like gurgling spit. Amira’s head in hand, the clone slammed Amira’s face into the plane’s side one, two, three times. The first smash made a fairly-large dent, and each following hit made the dent even larger. The only reason the Warhawk clone didn’t smash in Amira again was because that her bloody frame had turned around and clocked the clone in the head. After that, Amira and the clone had a wrestling match that went far under the jet, past the Brawlers’ sight, and all the way to the ground. Off in the distance, Brawlers could see that the Angelface clone had followed Amira and the Warhawk clone as they fell farther and farther.
“That’s right! That’s right, bitch!” Ray shouted at the turrent. “You don’t freaking mess with us!”
But, again, the plane shook violently. The learjet finally met with a lightning bolt from the thunderstorm. Brawlers struggled yet again, to stay up on the plane.
“Amira....” Spike said to himself in shock. Beachroller, Spawner, and Rageblood looked over the edge along with him. Rageblood was the first to snap back in reality.
“Umm... guys!” he reluctantly called, slowly creeping from sadness and fear to alertness and cunning.
“It’s getting too dangerous out here! We gotta get back in the plane!”
“Erm... yeah!” Spike said finally. “I’ll grab Ray!” With that, he used his claws to again climb the side of the plane.
Rageblood scooped up Beachroller in his arms, who sounded a series of depressed whines, and jumped at the plane’s open doorway. Rageblood, weapon on his back and Beachroller in one hand, barely clasped on to the doorway’s edge. With the help of the civilians inside, Rageblood and Beachroller were able to safely make it inside. Next to slam on the inside of the plane was Spawner. Ray seemed to be forced to enter the plane. When he entered, he drifted in far enough to have his back smash into the doorway’s side and tumble to the interior’s floor. Ray wouldn’t get up, either. He crawled along the floor in a fit of depression and a lack of hope. Spike was last to enter, his claws making it much easier to get a hold of the doorway. Once he stood in the plane, he forced Ray to get to his feet and tried to shake him out of his horrid mood.
After the Brawlers return clearly sounded, Cindy clicked on the intercom and yelled her message as loud as she could.
“Brace yourself, everyone! We’re going into a crash landing!”
“You heard the lady!” Spawner yelled to the civilians. “Sit down, shut up, and fasten your seatbelts!” Civilians were quick to do as Spawner asked. Spawner, Rageblood, and Spike fastened themselves into a seat, too. Beachroller and Ray did too, though Spike almost had to force them. Ray was too dumbfounded and sad to even move, and Spike had to sit him down and buckle Ray in himself. Beachroller fought off Spike with hisses and wails that clearly showed off how the little animal was feeling right now.
Outside, the sound of failing plane parts was echoing at a fearful boom. Smoke was starting to clog up both engines and a flaming tail could be seen outside of someone’s window. Up front, sirens and bleeps of failing plane systems sounded all the way back to the passengers. Civilians were fearful in their own ways. Some sat silently and shook uncontrollably, some screamed at the top of their lungs while the jet was heading to the ground, and there were a few that physically appeared normal but their minds were racked with mental stress.
“Get ready! I’m gonna go in as soft as I can, but it’s gonna hurt!” said Cindy’s voice over the intercom.
WHAM!!!The jet hit the ground hard, as Cindy had predicted. The plane shook and its inhabitants shook like a maraca while kicking up dirt and soil as it skidded into the Void’s ground. Still, civilians and Brawlers alike expressed their fear in different ways. Except Ray, who sat emotionless as he shook around wildly.
“Holy crap!” Cindy suddenly sounded from the cockpit.
Rageblood was about to yell to ask what the problem was, but he soon figured it out. Apparently, as the jet was careening along the Void’s floor, it was heading to another Brawler-related area: the Cavern. The plane’s live cargo was quick to feel the effect of the jet jutting straight into the Cavern nose-first. Cindy was running to the back to get away from the plane’s nose, but the jet hit before she could hold on to something, and she flew towards the jet’s tail as the plane forcefully pressed into the bottom of the Cavern.
In the ruined plane, the front crushed past repair, there was silence. The battered plane had no movement in or around it as it shot smoke up into the air. Civilians and Brawlers both were injured, some obviously more than others. But they all were out cold, and all slept deeply as the plane continued its smoke-obsessed idleness. Now, all was still except for the far-off thunderstorm, which was beginning to fade away.
Though the smoke might have been a good thing. A familiar friend drove up to the crashed plane in a red, tattered pickup truck. The paint had chipped away in a number of places, dents were abundant, rust started to take over exhaust pipes and bumpers, and the left door had been replaced with an orange-colored door straight from a different breed of vehicle.
The driver drove up to the edge and parked to step out. He looked down in the Cavern to examine the damage caused, ignoring the huge pillar of smoke right beside him. The impressed driver whistled aloud as he rubbed his bearded chin. Satisfied, the driver skidded down the Cavern’s edge to look for survivors, his halo gleaming in the Void’s sunlight.