"Mule," the giant of an old Green Beret cooed, "you never cease to amaze me."

"Never try Big Beefy."

Big Beefy and I are part of the Old Guard, our own little E-4 Mafia. BB got his name for his temper in basic since he had beef with almost anyone he didn't know. Now he trains the Minutemen and teases me saying that I pushed to hard. Normally I'd jab that all his Minutemen got saved by me but that's something to say over a good night's drink.

My son was driving the USS Miseria with me, Big Beefy, a blonde girl codenamed Robbin and two dozen armed survivors. A short wave radio cackled on. Good thing I got my tongue lashing in person, the person on the other end of the radio started,

"Osiris 117 Whiskey, Category 5 Fog was spotted coming in when the armor was obtained. Keep those gas masks handy and watch out for Anomalies. Over."

My son responded, "Copy, did you say Cat 5? Over."

"Affirmative, over and out."

Someone in our group exclaimed a curse and a cacophony of anxious chatter started in the vehicle. Category 5 is like a freakin' hurricane with enough of the Fogged to be a real problem. Hell, there might even be the Deathless, zombie manhunters that live up to their name. I spoke over them with a strong voice,

"Shut your cum-dumpsters and listen up! Look out for strange electric arcs or orbs and pay attention to the wind. After we get through this bag of dicks we'll send some of ya to the Padre, Madre or the Dick Smith while the rest of us will be screwing dorm hoes-" I gestured to Robbin, "except any ladies aboard, but I'm sure you don't have any problems with the guys, you ladies are no 4-10-4's that's for sure."

Most of my speech went right over everyone's heads until Robbin said with a chilling smirk,

"Dorm hoes or guys will be fine."

"Christ," I muttered into the following awkward silence, "aren't you GAF buttercup."

"Dad!"

"What? She's a BAM for sure!"

"Yep," Big Beefy agreed, "Jane Wayne in the flesh."

"Dad!" He said with a little more steel.

"Son, you're suffering from Rectal Cranial Inversion. I know you got a girl already-"

"Strays on the road!"

"I call the Ma Deuce." BB uttered, clambering up to the MG.

"Drop 'em with the M2 BB." I said.

Moments later the thunking of a large caliber gun and dropping bodies filled our ears. Stupid Strays, rather have them any day over Foggies or the Fogged though, all strays do is walk around and moan like a virgin having a bloody orgasm. I casually put shells into my magazines manually before the next fight. Once done I offered the ammo to our lovely crew and tossed the box back. Robbin was rubbing a slab of meat on her arrowheads and I asked,

"Robbin," I flicked my head towards the arrows, "what cha' doin'?"

She held up the meat with pride, proclaiming, "This? This is meat from the Fogged. An arrow coated in this and shot into an enemy's chest and they might as well have breathed in the Fog and turned."

"How fast do you shoot?"

"I'm top of my class with three arrows per second. Been using the bow since I was old enough, was one when Hurricane Miseria hit."

She passed the meat around for the bow users of the group to poison their arrows as well. Wayne was quiet as he drove slowly, normally it was a five minute drive but we were hoping to creep up on them off the highway. Going down Grenta Rd, turning off on Pat Nash Drive past the Ballparks of America and then onward towards Highway 76. Then the short wave cackled again.

"Hostiles are long past the Promised Land and are downtown. The Railway Gang is facing resistance, refugees are on the old scenic train route. Over."

As if in response a train horn blew in the distance. Wayne wasted no time picking up the radio.

"Is Cara with them?"

There was static and then an older voice, Eastwood, replied, "Mule not teach you to think with your head and not your pants boy? Over."

"Just tell me!"

At this point I reached over and carefully took the radio from him. He kept his glower on the road when I playfully jabbed at Eastwood,

"I knew you talked trash when I wasn't looking." Then I added, "Humor him, and is the fish hatchery intact? Over."

"She's been unseen, and they didn't seem to know that we were in the Shepherd of the Hills Fish Hatchery. Our primary food supply is safe. Over."

I could hear my son's grip tighten on the wheel.

"Thanks, over and out."

"Sixty seconds." Wayne said.

I put my boonie hat on my head and attached my 40 mike-mike onto my HK expertly. I kept my M26 on my side via shoulder strap and then readied Wayne's guns. Once we had thirty seconds I said to everyone,

"Alright! Hands off your cocks and your dick beaters onto your socks. Lock and load, in 48-hours tops we'll be heroes and getting screwed, blued and tattooed baby! Twenty seconds and everyone except BB and Wayne on the ground!"

I gripped BB's shoulder and pointed to the compartments where I spoke, whispering, "Extra QCB, and then ammo crates."

I flipped down the sun visor where a mirror was and checked my jack-o-lantern face paint. I smirked at my reflection, kids used to refer to me as Negan and Cpt. Prices' love child when I wasn't listening. Cocking my rifle I hopped off the side of my DUKW and started walking. Robbin got three of her poisoned arrows in her draw hand and followed closely.

The gate had been rammed through with extreme force. That wasn't the first of it, the cement barriers that were set up beyond the gate looked like they were shoved aside by a tank. Even the M2 wouldn't stand a chance against a tank.

Ripley's Believe It or Not was to my right with the Branson Ferris Wheel in the distance. Farther, again on my right, was the old Titanic museum with the Castle of Chaos past that on the left. The walk wasn't long before we heard the sound of a muffled gunshot from Hannah's Maze of Mirrors aka The Castle of Chaos.

I leveled my rifle onto my shoulder, ready for anything, until a glare hit my eye. The glare was a glint of reflected sunlight coming from Ripley's Believe It or Not. There was a shot and the man on my left had blood explode from his head. Shouting that there was a sniper, I wasted no time in shooting my 40mm through the window and blowing him onto the pavement in front of the door.

As if on cue, hostiles took defensive positions behind cars and concrete barriers. I ducked down and dragged my buddy to cover as everyone prepared to engage. Pointing my HK at the man with lead for brains I said,

"If you are hard headed enough to take that then you better start speaking up boy!"

His eyes a few feet from me he whispered, "I-I can't see."

"I can see that, stay down, cuz if you get up I'm assuming you died n' turned or you'll get yourself shot again."

The boy nodded as BB started slinging big boys at the enemy. For whatever reason this reminded me of Hell Week, that part of my SEAL training where I quite actually woke up every day to these sounds. Only difference was the moaning of wounded.

The M2 covered Robbin and her little archery crew so they could creep closer. I followed suit and two enemies had stood up to spray fire at us. To my surprise, Robbin adeptly shot two arrows from her bow in one shot. Once the poison hit their lungs the infection was like anthrax on steroids and they seized up and fell down as men but rose as Freshies.

While the two infected caused chaos the M2 was turning concrete barriers into skipping stones with six to nine shot bursts. Robbin, across from me in cover, also grabbed a Molotov and zip-tied it to an arrow before lighting it. I peeked and noticed two men behind a car and one dragging the sniper from earlier into Ripley's Believe It or Not.

Once the M2 started mulching the car a loud shot echoed from the Titanic and the Ma Deuce stopped. I glanced back at BB and saw him fall back. Robbin peeked and shot her arrow at the two men behind the car and the Molotov lit them ablaze, their skin peeling off like sparks from wood as they screamed. Once Robbin was in cover a lady next to her tried to sneak a shot in. There was a loud crack and the woman's head hit the cement before her body did.

A soldier next me gagged when the woman's face contorted a bit before taking on the glossy look of death. Her body collapsed back, twitched, and then went still. Robbin grabbed the dead girl's foot, dragged the body to her, and proceeded to look for supplies.

This isn't going to be a short gun fight...

In fact, we won't be able to make a big enough dent to start cleaning up downtown at this rate. We lost three of our twenty seven and the M2 is down-

As if taunting my thoughts, I heard Wayne yell out a taunting curse and the M2 started going full cyclic. Blood spat from the Titanic onto the street before Wayne covered our advance. Robbin and the others pushed as I watched my son.

Yes, I am kinda worried about him... but if he doesn't chill he's going to break that friggin' gun and then we'll ALL be screwed!

"Dad!" Wayne shouted and I noticed a figure standing up. The boy who was shot earlier was foaming out the mouth and coming towards me before I unceremoniously iced him. Then there was a hiss and a whistling sound. I turned around and saw as a mortar shell blasted a half dozen of our guys.

The scenes of the screaming and dying distracted me from the sound of a large engine purring to life as an M113 APC Mortar Carrier emerged from a side street. The Green Dragon had enough front armor to withstand the Ma Deuce. Wayne kept shooting but the M113's 50. cal wasn't wanking off either.

"Get over here!" I screamed as small arms fire enveloped and executed the wounded. I peeked and spotted maybe three dozen hostiles. I stepped out of cover and aimed my 40mm at the APC-

Then electricity arced between a streetlight and a yield sign. The wind began to pick up and I cussed.

The Fogstorm is rollin' in...