Category Archives: Fiction

Tourist Attraction

2016-09-pic-new-enhanced“We’re here, Grandpa,” said Billy as the car came to a stop.

John’s mind was too occupied by the gray ship in the distance to respond to his grandson. The longer John looked at the ship, the bigger the knot in his stomach grew. Hoping not to betray his unease, he spoke to his daughter, Mary, and her husband, Tom. “You know, we can go someplace else. You don’t have to put yourselves out for me.”

“Nonsense,” said Mary. “We’ve been doing a lot on this trip for us. We picked this just for you. Plus, Billy is really excited to see a ship that’s just like the one you served on.”

“Okay,” John said as he undid his seatbelt. “But we don’t have to spend a lot of time here.” He got out of the backseat and followed Billy, Mary, and Tom to the ticket line. After a few minutes, John raised his head and looked at the WWII battleship sitting moored and ready to take on tourists. His thoughts went back to a 1943 naval yard.

Hot standing on the dock waiting for boarding. “John Pulaski reporting for duty.” Salute given and returned.

 “Get onboard, Ski,” said the officer of the day.

As Tom handed him a ticket, John felt as if he were in two places at the same time. “Let’s go, Dad,” said Tom. John and his family started up the ramp to the ship.

Salty air. Cool ocean breeze. Ship underway.

“Oh boy! Look at those guns,” said Billy as they toured the deck.

Sound of enemy aircraft. Sirens wail. “All hands to battle stations!”

“Billy, stand in front of the guns,” said Mary. “I want to take a picture.”

“Okay, Mom.”

Bombs exploding. Metal twisting, jarring.

“Look at this kitchen,” said Tom. “I bet you had some pretty bad meals while you were in the Navy.”

“Uh huh,” replied John.

Smoke filled corridors. Choking, coughing. Climb up the ladder.

“What does that plaque say, Billy?” asked Mary.

“Come and see. It’s really cool.”

Guns firing. “Lead, dammit! Lead!” Blood on the deck.

“Let’s go look at the plane,” said Billy.

Two airplanes down. One to go. It turns. Heading straight in.

“Mary, stand with your father so I can take your picture together.”

More gunfire. Plane is hit. Trailing smoke. “Hit the deck!”

“What’s over there, Billy?”

Bodies in the water. Our guys and theirs. Smell of hot metal and burning flesh.

“It’s getting late,” said Mary. “I want to go to the gift shop before we leave.”

“Okay,” replied Tom. “You ready to go, Dad?”

“Yes.”

“I bet seeing this brought back some memories, eh Dad?”

“A few.” John cleared his throat and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Come on, Billy. Let’s help your mother pick out another snow globe for her collection.”

Hot Blacktop Ch. 15 – Racing Under Caution

road-in-woodsSaint still reeled from Sienna’s departure. She needed the sense knocked into her after the nonsense she threw at him in the garage. Did she really think he was going to give up on her? Saint would set her straight once he found her.

When he moved to find his clothes, his head throbbed but the doctors had cleared him to leave the hospital minutes ago. It only took a few stitches to close up the wound. If Sienna had seen how much blood had come from the small cut, okay not small, she would have been hysterical and thought, he was dying. Now he just needed a ride to find her before she found out what had happened. If she even wanted to be found. He would have called Chris, but his friend was out of town for a meeting with his racing team.

“How goes it Humpty Dumpty?” A familiar voice snickered from the door, as he swung his legs around spotting his pants in the vinyl chair. He looked up as she entered. The face that went with the voice tightened.

“Ha, ha. Very funny, Smarty Pants,” Saint responded with Josephine’s nickname second only to the widely used Jo Jo, in the MOTO circuit.

“You scared the stuffing out of me, Saint.” She scowled her accent, thick with emotion, more than normal.

“I’m fine Jo Jo.” He grabbed his pants and slowly put them on, the push and pull making him queasy.

“Can you take me to the speedway? I need to take care of a few things.” The hospital supplied a scrubs top. Soaked with more blood than he thought possible, his shirt was a lost cause.

“Straight to bed is where you should go, hon.”

“Are you propositioning me Jo Jo?” he quipped trying to lighten the mood.

She blushed a bright pink, wagged her finger at him and said, “I’d smack ya upside your silly head for that one, but then you’d earn another night in this nightmare of a place.” She shivered. What was that all about he wondered. She shook her head coming back from wherever she’d gone. “Come on Humpty. Let’s get.”

“Only if you don’t call me that anymore.” She shook her head and finally smiled again.

Once they arrived, Jo Jo made sure he got in the apartment over the garage, motherly she definitely was, threatening to even tuck Saint into bed. He didn’t have time for her concern even if it was heartfelt. He needed to get to Sienna. She would blame herself for his concussion.

His thoughts were interrupted. “You’ll call me if you need me, right?” Jo Jo asked.

Saint nodded and winced. She took a step forward and he held up a hand to ward her off. “I will Jo Jo. I promise.”

“I’m at the Willmar B & B, like always.”

Once the door shut with a soft snick, he did his best to quickly get changed. He had to steady himself more than a few times to ward off some dizziness. He took a couple painkillers then headed out.

He arrived at Sienna’s in record time to see another vehicle pulled in front of her house. When he saw who it was he was more confused than anything. And then he saw that Sienna’s front door was wide open, remnants of the solid wood door, shattered glass reflected in the moonlight, scattered on the wood plank porch. He ran up the steps ignoring his pounding head only to stop short when Gunner pointed a gun at him. Saints hands went up and his pulse clocked into overdrive. Gunner motioned for him to get behind him when he realized it was Saint. Gunner put a finger to his lips and then with practiced movements aimed his weapon toward the open door and disappeared through it.

“What the hell man!” Saint whispered as the man disappeared through the door. Who the hell was this guy? Saint moved to follow his fear for Sienna gripping him in a choke hold.

“Stay here.” Gunner said as he crossed the threshold just inside the door.

“The fuck I will! He followed the man and sucked in all the air from the room. He walked into a disaster zone.

Gunner’s head swiveled sweeping the area. He moved through the house like he belonged here, which didn’t make any sense. Had he been in Sienna’s house before? When he came back into the living room, Saint finally became unstuck. “Where’s Sienna?” His heart hammered as the struggle that occurred in the room became all too real in his mind. Furniture was upturned, blood splattered the sofa, bullet holes riddled the walls. As he drew a picture of what happened…He just needed her to be okay.

Fueled by his rage, fear and adrenaline, he stupidly grabbed Gunner, and slammed him against the wall. The man grunted, from the force. Saint had a captive audience. A very pissed off captive audience.

“Where’s Sienna?” No answer. He slammed Gunner against the wall and then suddenly he was the one smashed against it. The pain in his head made a mad dash through his nervous system as it returned. Saints stomach rolled with nausea.

“I don’t know. You’ll want to calm dow…” Gunners words were cut down to nothing. Saint could barely see what had caught his attention. It was a small tennis shoe. Gunner suddenly let him go and Saint did everything he could not to slide down the wall.

“We need to go,” Gunner pronounced.

“We? I don’t even know who you are, man. I come up to find a gun pointed at me, Sienna’s house part of the backdrop for the five o’clock news and you think I’d trust anything you said? No. Just no. He turned to leave, to go find Sienna himself, when Gunner grabbed his arm and stopped him. Gunner flipped open his wallet and thrust a business card at him.

“What the hell is this,” he looked down and could just make out the card. “Anderson Investigations. I thought you said your name was Gunner Phillips?”

“My name’s Gunner Anderson. I’m a private investigator.”

Saint opened his mouth to speak, but Gunner interrupted. “I’ll explain on the way. We need to leave now.” Gunner moved and Saint was frozen in place by all that had happened.

“Paulson, let’s move.” Jolted by Gunner’s underlying growl, Saint moved.

As soon as the gravel at the end of the drive kicked up, Gunners words poured out of his mouth. “I’ve been working in Danny’s bitch of a mother’s father’s organization for over two years to gain their trust, to get close enough to the inner circle for the intel I needed to bring the organization down. That fucker Marco was the prize though. What he did to my sister…he’s either going to jail for a long time or I’m putting a bullet in his head.”

Saint watched Gunner as his words trailed off sister. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter and tighter as if it would bend by raw anger alone.

“What did he do to your sister?” He dare ask. Gunner’s eyes flashed on him and he would have missed the pain in that swift glance if not for the clearing that let the glow of the moon back into their ride.

“You don’t want to know,” Gunner said flexing his fingers as he guided the vehicle around a turn.

“Fuck!” Saint’s breathes burned in and out of his nose as all kinds of scenarios danced in his head. “Fuck, go faster.”

Gunner ignored him and spoke on. “Sienna’s mother is mired in her own shit, buried to depths that no one escapes from. Once Marco decided that her debt was owed…She’d been racking up debt, and Marco, who is Danny’s mother’s enforcer called her debt due. But, surprise, surprise, she didn’t have the money.” Gunner looked over at Saint. “Sienna is the next best thing. And Marco will do whatever it takes to extricate Sienna from her money.” Saint swallowed hard, the ache in his throat threatening to choke him. “Anything. Top that shit off,” Gunner continued, “I think Marco has Danny too.”

“The shoe. Christ!” He rubbed his face. His head hurt more than ever. “Why didn’t you get Danny out of that damn house? You could have gotten him away from his mother. Called social services. Something.”

“I couldn’t help him man. It would have blown my cover. I did the best I could to distract them each time they went after him, but you’ve seen Danny. It doesn’t always work. The good news is I was able to hand over some intel to the FBI. Tonight they arrested the bitch and her father. Their empire is crumbling. FBI’s on cleanup duty. That’s where I came from tonight. But Marco slipped their notice on roundup. I went straight to Sienna’s once I found out.”

The man sighed like he’d had to carry the weight of Atlas’s world. But Saint didn’t give a shit about him. All he cared about was Sienna. Her time was running out if the scene at her house said anything at all. “Where are we headed?”

Gunner looked over at Saint and then back to the road. “You’ve gotta keep it together man. What you’re probably gonna see isn’t gonna make you feel anything close to hearts and rainbows.” Saint watched as the guy’s teeth ground down onto each other. “The place is a shack. A place close to Danny’s house.” He cleared his throat and blew out a breath. “ We just found out about it. Had my guys known about it we would have taken care to clear it too. We think it’s where he’s been keeping Sienna’s mother. I think it’s where he’s taken Sienna.”

“You don’t know for sure? What if she’s not there? How are we going to find her?”
Saint’s words grew louder with every question. “Shit!”

“You need to be prepared.” Saint’s hands started to sweat. “This isn’t your normal little shack. He uses it for all sorts of work.” Gunner looked over again. “You do what I tell you when. No questions. You got me?”

“Yes,” Saint said. He didn’t like it, but he wasn’t going to disagree on the off chance that Gunner wouldn’t let him out of the damn vehicle.

They approached an overgrown turnoff and Gunner turned off the headlamps. He slowed down too, which put Saint on edge. They needed to go faster. And then he saw it. A small out building with a single window. Gunner pulled over a little way off from where he wanted to be. Sienna was in there and who knows God what was happening. Gunner got out of the car and signaled for Saint to follow. Saint didn’t take his eyes off the small building until he heard Gunner open his trunk and lift something out of a small compartment that Saint knew shouldn’t be there. Gunner handed him a gun.

“You know how to use one?”

“Yes.” Saint pulled back the safety and had it ready to fire in the next second.

“Good. Follow my lead and don’t go off all halfcocked. You’ll put us all in jeopardy.” Saint wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up, but kept his mouth shut. Sienna was his, and he’d do whatever necessary to get her back.

With each step bringing them closer to her, Saint’s mind spun with what he might see. But he couldn’t do that. Focus he told himself, focus.

They reached the side of the building and the first thing he saw through a small window made him bite his tongue. A small figure was curled up on the floor. It wasn’t moving. Fuck! his mind screamed. Then he breathed through his fear. That wasn’t Sienna he thought. The figure was too small, too thin. Was it Sienna’s mother? Was she dead? Where was Sienna? And then he heard footsteps. It sounded liked someone was pacing. And then the sound stopped.

“Where the fuck is the money?”

Was that moaning? Sienna? Moving at the noise to go around Gunner the man caught Saint’s shoulder and forced his back against the wall.

“There is no money,” Saint heard Sienna say. She was alive. Then Sienna screamed.

“Stay here,” Gunner whispered.

“Fuck that!” he bit out through clenched teeth.

Gunner kicked in the door and Saint followed. Instinct took over. Shots were fired and Saint dove to the side. Gunner grunted and hit the floor but then rolled when Marco fired his gun. Saint’s eyes scanned wildly for Sienna and saw her in the corner on a dirty mattress. The sight of her had his eyes filling with relief and then he looked closer. While chaos echoed throughout the shack Saint raced to get to Sienna. He tripped and fell. He groaned when he realized he’d fallen on Sienna’s mother, her eyes open staring blankly up to the ceiling. His stomach took a dive and it was all he could do to keep from vomiting. He couldn’t control his need to touch Sienna and took a rough hold of her arms and she screamed.

“It’s me baby. It’s me.” She stilled. He reached to unknot the blindfold that was too tight around her head. She started to struggle. “Sienna, hold still. Hold still baby. I’ve got you.”

She started to cry “Saint? You’re not dead. Oh, God. You’re not dead. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I love you. I love you.”

“I know, baby.” She rocked back and forth making it more difficult to release her bindings that cut into her wrists and ankles. When he finally got the last one undone she fell into his arms. “I love you too,” he said. “Come on we need to get you out of here,” but he was stopped as she grabbed his face with shaking hands.

“I’m sorry I was so hateful. I didn’t mean what I said. I was scared.” Sienna kissed him and pulled back quickly when she hissed from the contact. He was about to look at the cut on her lip when she looked up at him with frantic eyes. “Danny? Where’s Danny?”

“I don’t know.” Saint looked around and saw that Marco was dead, Gunner nowhere in sight. “We thought he was with you.”

“He…he was.” She started to shiver, the shock of what she’d endured taking hold. “But, but, then Marco took him outside. He was screaming and yelling at Marco, telling him to leave me alone.” She grabbed onto his shirt. “Marco said he was going to teach Danny a lesson. Did you see him outside? He was already hurt so badly. He couldn’t have withstood anymore, Saint.” More tears stained her cheeks and Saint wiped them away and kissed each one as they continued to fall.

“We’ll find him.” He lifted her chin and saw that her lip was swollen and encrusted with blood that had cracked open again from their kiss. She had a bruise on her head to match his own. And who knows what else. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.” She started to get up and gasped. “Marco kicked me in the ribs.” Saint wished the asshole was still alive so he could kill him all over. When they came to the door Saint giving all his attention to Sienna, she moaned. He thought he’d somehow hurt her. But when he saw Sienna’s stricken face he looked up to see Gunner carrying Danny from a narrow path in the woods at almost a run.

“I need to get Danny to the hospital,” Gunner yelled. When he reached the porch he set Danny down, his body like that of a rag dolls. “I’m getting my ride. Make sure he stays awake. His pulse…” Gunner stopped speaking and swallowed hard. He shook his head and took off running.

“Danny?” Sienna said as she moved to look down at him. His breaths were erratic and his eyes were glassy.

Danny looked up to Sienna. “You…okay?” the small voice asked. Saint came up next to Sienna and looked over her shoulder. When Danny saw Saint, his eyes widened.

“She’s okay Danny. Everything’s okay.”

“Mom…arrested.”

“She was, yes. So was your grandfather.”

Danny closed his eyes.

“Danny! Open your eyes. Open your eyes honey,” Sienna said through her tears. The boy did as she asked but Saint could tell it was difficult.

“We’re going to get you to the hospital.”

“Okay,” the whisper was even smaller now. He closed his eyes again and exhaled.

“Danny?” Sienna said. “Danny!”

Gunner just hit the porch when she started to scream. He grabbed the boy up and raced to the open door of his SUV crawled into the back with the boy. Saint did his best to get Sienna in too and propped her up as close to Danny as possible. “You drive,” Gunner said, and threw his keys at Saint, never taking his eyes off the boy while Saint hit the accelerator and gunned it toward the hospital. He only hoped they made it in time.

My List of Top Ten Things Wrong With Resident Evil 6

In my August 2016 blogpost, I stated that the 2012 video game, Resident Evil 6, deserved its own list of nitpicks. It’s my opinion that RE6’s developers went way overboard in terms of content, and it resulted in one of the most flawed video games I’ve ever played.  Though none of the previous games in the series is entirely perfect, the one thing that they all have going for them is that they operated on a small scale.  Generally, each is limited to 1-3 main characters that the player can control throughout the game and take place in areas that are limited in scope.

2016-9Sept-Photo1

From L to R – Jake, Sherry, Chris, Piers, Helena, Leon, Ada (photo credit below)

RE6 upped the ante by giving the player their choice of seven separate characters to play – four returning from previous games and three newcomers – and having the action taking place in the United States, China, and somewhere in Eastern Europe, as well as on a submarine, a jumbo passenger jet, an aircraft carrier, and a deep-sea oil rig. I feel that both elements ended up hurting the game since more time was spent on their development than on crafting a solid story. (Photo credit)  As if the game didn’t suffer enough with its wider character selection and global scale, I found RE6’s many monsters either annoying or over-the-top.  If the developers had spent as much time working out the kinks in the narrative as they did designing the characters, creatures, and environments, the game would be much more enjoyable.

While I have my share of problems with this game, I don’t hate it as much as many players whose scathing reviews I’ve seen. I consider myself pretty open-minded, and one of the things I do like is how RE6 has four separate campaigns that each contain a piece of a much larger story.

Before I delve into a breakdown on what irked me the most about RE6, I’ll start with an overview of each of the four scenarios.  Government agent Leon Kennedy strives to expose the mastermind behind a string of outbreaks and teams with a rogue Secret Service agent named Helena Harper who was coerced into committing acts of terrorism.  Captain Chris Redfield of the Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance (B.S.A.A.) seeks revenge against a female terrorist who decimated a military team he commanded, while Chris’ protégé, Piers Nivans, strives to keep him from crossing the line.  NSA operative Sherry Birkin undertakes a mission to find and protect a mercenary named Jake Muller, whose blood may hold the key to neutralizing a new manmade virus that’s been unleashed on the world.  And corporate spy Ada Wong launches her own investigation when she discovers she will be made a scapegoat for these new acts of bio-terrorism.  For anyone who may not have played this game but would like to, please be warned that there are spoilers ahead.

And now, on with the list.

10) Leon has an insane amount of patience.

After being forced to kill the zombified U.S. President, Adam Benford, at the start of her and Leon’s story, Helena comments out loud that the President’s death is her fault.  Each time Leon questions her for an explanation throughout the first two chapters of their campaign, she continually makes excuses for procrastinating.  Even though he was close friends with President Benford and only just met Helena, I can understand Leon letting it slide once or twice.  But it’s a wonder he doesn’t lose it after she blows him off a total of five times.  What makes the scenario even more insane is that when Helena finally does reveal what going on, her whole character is called into question.  At the end of the second chapter, she discloses that she was compromised because her sister’s life was on the line.

9) Psychological trauma, what’s that?

Chris’ story kicks off with him going AWOL after the loss of almost his entire squad, trying to lose himself in a bottle as a means of forgetting.  Piers tracks his former captain down after six months have gone by with the intention of bringing him back into the fold.  Yet, the immediate response of everyone in the B.S.A.A. is to throw Chris right back in the field without any treatment whatsoever.  It’s even more boggling that Chris has any sense left in between coming off a serious drinking binge, suffering from PTSD, and later obsessively pursuing the woman who killed his teammates.

8) Might as well have a neon sign that says ‘I’m up to no good.’

One of the things I found most puzzling about Resident Evil 6 were the gargantuan humanoid creatures called Ogroman in Chris’ campaign.  For the sake of argument, I will say that RE6’s villainess, Carla, was the one who manufactured the enormous beasts encountered by the protagonists.  I will also assume that she wanted to keep her activities hidden from the game’s other villain, Simmons, so he wouldn’t swoop in and shut her down.  Yet she still tempts fate and blatantly throws several creatures that are larger than a two-story house at the military, as well as spearheads a bio-terrorist organization called Neo-Umbrella.  Since Simmons is a character who has government connections, likes to maintain order, and stay on top of things, it’s a wonder that Carla is able to operate unhindered for at least a six-month period.

7) The villains who wield far too much power.

I can understand the need for RE6’s game designers, after the apparent death of the series’ supervillain, Wesker, in the fifth game, to come up with a bad guy or two worthy of filling the void.  Yet both Carla and Simmons are able to get away with an awful lot.  Between the two of them, they lay claim to a total of three or four enormous secret facilities or bases, orchestrate a presidential assassination, destroy a U.S. city with a guided missile, cause not one but two massive outbreaks that kill at least half a million people, put a big dent in the forces of a global militaristic organization, manufacture one of the most destructive genetic-altering viruses present in the Resident Evil series, and almost bring about the end of the world.  On top of all that, either Carla or Simmons has an aircraft carrier, an oceanic oil rig, and a nuclear sub in their possession.  Dead or not, I imagine that Wesker has to envy these two for greatly outdoing him in the very game that marks their first appearance.

6) Daddy issues.

I consider Sherry and Jake’s campaign the most polished and straightforward out of the four, but I also feel that it held a wasted goldmine of dramatic elements that could easily have been brought into the story.  Midway through their campaign, Jake discovers that the father he’s never known is none other than the late Albert Wesker.  If it were up to me, I would have put more emphasis on how Jake deals with the revelation that his absentee dad was the world’s most wanted bioterrorist.  It would have been interesting to see more of Jake’s transition from a selfish, greedy soldier of fortune at the start of the game to a character who aims to be the antithesis of everything his father stood for.  Even the scene between Jake and his dad’s greatest rival, Chris, toward the end could have been better written and a much more defining moment, for both of them. Instead, Jake, who has shown hatred toward his father through interactions with Sherry, is inexplicably angry at Chris for having killed Wesker.

5) Carla shares Simmons’ obsession with Ada?

The source of the conflict between the two villains in RE6 has an interesting basis, even if the plot itself was not well thought out.  More than a decade prior to the events in the game, Simmons was deeply infatuated with Ada, to the point that he didn’t take it well when she left him.  He spent a great deal of time experimenting with genetics and harming countless people in an attempt to create a doppelganger.  He ultimately succeeded with his devoted lab assistant, Carla, who he brainwashed to behave like the real Ada.  This scheme backfired when Carla regained her memory and went mad with thoughts of revenge.  The one thing I find the most unbelievable about this whole scenario is that Carla makes no attempt to change her appearance once she remembers.  Throughout an entire game that takes place over a six month period, both Ada and Carla have hairstyles that are a perfect match. One could argue that Carla made sure she’d be indistinguishable from the real Ada when it came to framing her.  But given that Carla’s master plan was to destroy the world, why bother?

4) Time for a career change.

From the time of her first appearance in Resident Evil 2 in 1998, Ada has never been known as anything other than a freelance spy.  One can assume that she enjoys what she does or she wouldn’t still be at it by the time the sixth game rolls around in 2012.  While it’s puzzling why Carla even attempts to pin the latest string of terrorist attacks on her, there is a plot element toward the end of Ada’s campaign that makes even less sense.  A peek into Ada’s thoughts reveals that she intends to destroy any evidence that would prove she’d played no part in instigating the attacks.  Unless being labeled as a bioterrorist is some weird way of increasing her notoriety or deepening the pool of people looking to hire her, Ada must really be begging to spend the rest of her days behind bars if any law enforcement agency or the military ever catch her.

3) Zombies on a plane.

My explanation for the plane crash that occurs in chapter 4 of Leon’s campaign is that the game developers must have really wanted a grand spectacle to mark Leon and Helena’s arrival in China.  But the events leading up to it are just plain idiotic.  The buildup to this scenario is as follows.  Leon learns from one of his allies that Simmons is en route to China, and Leon and Helena book a flight in pursuit.  Sometime during the last leg of their trip, the heroes discover that the pilot has fallen victim to a virus and has mutated into a horrific creature that is infecting everyone on board, except for the protagonists.  The game’s biggest mystery is that it never explains how or why the pilot is targeted.  By this point, Simmons had just been made aware by Ada that Carla is on a rampage, so his focus had to be primarily on dealing with her.  And it’s doubtful Carla would set her sights on eliminating Leon and Helena out of nowhere since she pretty much ignores them throughout the whole game.  Unless there was an unknown third villain in play operating from the shadows, it would have been impossible for anyone to start an epidemic aboard a specific jet that had been in the air for roughly twelve hours.

2) Just die already!

Generally, I’m someone who likes a challenge and to square off with any game’s final boss that takes extra time and effort to triumph against.  But RE6 sets the bar ridiculously high when it comes to Leon and Helena battling against Simmons.  Within minutes of being exposed to Carla’s specially-made viral cocktail, Simmons mutates into an oversized canine-like creature and is seemingly stopped when he gets dragged underneath a bullet train that subsequently derails.  But it doesn’t stop there.  For Round Two, he transforms into a mutant T-Rex and seemingly dies again after getting pumped full of lead.  Round Three sees him go back to his first stage mutation and supposedly bite it when Ada stabs him in the side and drops him into a raging inferno.  For the final round, he becomes a giant housefly – God,I wish I was kidding about this – and is ultimately defeated after several lightning strikes courtesy of a metal antenna that gets stuck in him and getting shot by a rocket launcher. And yet what finally kills him is that he reverts to his human self, gets impaled on an obelisk, and bleeds out.  To say all of this is overkill is a vast understatement.

1) If the monsters don’t get you, the camera angles will.

One thing that annoyed me the most about RE6 aside from the many plot holes was a certain game mechanic that got me killed more than once.  Sometimes, when my character was running from something dangerous, the tendency of the camera view to shift by a 90 or 180 degree angle without warning often resulted in said character sprinting in the wrong direction.  This aspect was never more frustrating than when I was playing the last chapter in Chris’ campaign and had to run up this inclined spiral walkway to get away from a giant creature that was after me.  The game keeps track of how many times you’re killed, and in all other chapters, my death count averaged from 3-5.  For Chris’ final chapter, I got killed well over a hundred times before I got it right.  To give an idea, here is a video recorded by another player of the scenario in question.

For a game that has this many flaws, you might ask why I’m in the minority of people who don’t flat out hate it. I would say that as a writer with a very vivid imagination, I see ways in which those imperfections can be corrected.  I have even done so through writing my own What-If fanfiction stories.  I am currently working on an alternate take of the events in the fifth game, a story titled Tangled Web. And I have some ideas in store for a sequel to said story that will borrow the best elements from RE6.

And, whenever I get around to writing my planned fanfiction sequel to Tangled Web, I can guarantee a cooler climax than battling a giant insect.

Carousel Dream

2016-08 PicMy heart beat fast as we approached the carousel. Dad teased me. “I don’t think you’re tall enough, yet. You haven’t been eating all your vegetables, Lindsey.”

“I have so,” I protested. “And I outgrew another pair of pants. I have to be tall enough now.”

He laughed. “Here’s the ruler. Let’s see how you measure up.”

I moved quickly into place, pressing my back flat against the panel and forcing my feet to not stand on tiptoe. “Am I tall enough?”

Dad put his hand to his chin. “Hmmm. Let’s see. I don’t know. It looks pretty close.”

Mom came to my rescue. “You’re tall enough, Lindsey. Happy birthday.” She gave me a hug.

“Oh boy! Can I take a ride now?”

“Yes, go ahead,” Mom said. “We’ll watch you from here.”

I got in line and watched the carousel spin ‘round. Craning my neck, I searched for the object of all my birthday wishes. She came into view. Hair, long and black, tied up in strands of beads. Arms, gracefully placed to lie across her body. More beads, draped around her neck and down her chest. Tail, circled so that her tailfin covered her stomach. The mermaid was beautiful. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I wanted to ride her so badly I could hardly wait.

The mermaid slipped out of view as the ride slowed and came to a stop. I followed the people in front of me as we made our way to the entrance. Finally, it was my turn. I gave my ticket to the man at the gate then ran as fast as I could to get to the mermaid. People scrambled this way and that as they tried to find their favorite creature to ride. I dodged left and right, trying to not get stepped on, as I hurried around to where I thought the mermaid stopped. My heart sank as I saw someone else sitting on her back.

I sighed and settled for riding a bird, a dumb old bird, for my first ride on the carousel all by myself. Four more times during the day, other kids outran me. Now, it was getting late and my parents were going to let me ride the carousel one more time before we left the park.

“Please, please, please, please, please,” I repeated in my head as my dad and I made our way through the crowd. “Yes!” I said out loud as I saw I would be the first person in line. Letting go of Dad’s hand, I started to run.

“Hold on,” yelled Dad. “You’ll need this.” He held out a ticket. I hurried back, grabbed the ticket then ran again towards the gate.

A line of kids grew behind me as I wished for the ride to hurry up and finish. At last, the carousel began to slow. The mermaid came into view and stopped right in front of the entry gate.

I tapped my foot waiting for the riders to exit. Finally, the attendant came to the gate. After handing him my ticket, I flew past him. Reaching the mermaid, I put my foot on the metal stirrup and hoisted myself up. My heart dropped when I thought I couldn’t get my leg over the seat, but I stood on tiptoe and managed to swing into place. An older girl came by and said, “Hey! That’s my ride. Get off.”

I wrapped my arms around the pole. “No, this is my turn. Go ride one of the birds.” Before the girl could say anything else, the attendant came by and shooed her on to a nearby ostrich.

Relaxing a bit, I put my hands on the pole and waited for the ride to start. After everyone was hitched in place, the carousel began to hum. Music began to blare over ancient speakers, and the carousel started to move.

After the first go-round, I waved to my dad. As the carousel turned some more, I gently touched the hair of the mermaid and traced some of the beads. At first, I didn’t notice the air turning a shade of blue-green. Or that the color seemed to be wrapping around me causing everything to fade from view.

When I did notice, I started to get scared. I wrapped my arms around the pole again. “Did the hair of the mermaid move?” I asked myself. I closed my eyes tight then felt the pole disappear and the seat drop from beneath me. Screaming, I waved my arms wildly trying to grab something to keep me from falling.

Hands caught my waist. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” The soft voice came from in front of me. Tears fell down my face as I opened my eyes and saw the mermaid facing me. “Hello, Lindsey.”

Her long arms stretched out as she held me up, and her tail gently raised and lowered behind her back. I looked at the mermaid’s face. Her eyes were kind, and happy, and a little sad all at the same time. My breathing started to calm and I sensed that I was floating. As my fear eased up I was able to say “Hello.”

The mermaid smiled. “You’ve tried so hard to be with me today. I want to wish you happy birthday and give you a gift.” She removed her right hand from my waist and reached for one of the strands of beads circling her neck. My heart thumped in my chest as she put the necklace on me.

“Oh thank you!” I said, wrapping my arms around her in a big hug. “Purple is my favorite color. Thank you so much. Can we spend the day together, please?”

“No, not today, but I hope you’ll come visit me again.”

“I will. I promise.”

She gave my cheek a pinch then turned her head away. Her tail came from behind her to lift me up. I felt the softness of her give way, as she returned to her position on the carousel and became hard wood and paint again. The blue-green of the air faded away, and I saw my dad wave as the carousel went around.

I touched the mermaid’s hair as the ride came to a stop. After climbing down, I went to look at her eyes one more time. I could still see the kindness I saw before. “Goodbye,” I whispered.

“Come along, Lindsey,” I heard Dad say. I turned and walked down the exit to meet him. “Did you have a good time?” Before I could answer he asked, “Where did those beads come from?”

“The mermaid gave them to me,” I replied.

“The mermaid? On the carousel?”

“Yes! She came to life and gave me these for my birthday.” I smiled from ear to ear.

Dad shook his head the way he and Mom often did when talking with me. “Let’s go find your mother.” I took his hand and skipped alongside him as he walked.

Hot Blacktop Ch. 14 – Off Course

“Crap!” she screamed. “It’s all crap.”

She slammed her hands on the drafting board, mad at herself, mad at the world, and mad at Saint for making her fall in love with him. Her sketchbook jumped. Her hands hurt from drawing so long in her larger studio above Twisted Metal. She shook her head in disgust and pushed the sketchbook away. What she’d done to Saint was deplorable. “It was a mistake. A huge mistake. I have to fix it.” Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over. She took a deep breath, then another, and wiped her face with graphite covered fingers. “God, I love him so much.” Her elbows hit the board, and her face rested in her hands.

Her mind was a whirl of indecision and frustration. She lifted her head and focused on something she didn’t deserve. “He probably hates me. I’ll go to him; I have to go to him now.” She stood. The chair hit the wall with a bang that seemed to rattle the walls. She gasped. That had been too loud. A second bang came that made her body jolt and then she froze. Someone was trying to break in.

Her body jerked again as she covered her ears. Sienna slowly turned toward the door. Nothing happened. Hair-raising fear skipped across her skin. Her eyes stayed glued to the door. Whoever it was struck again. She screamed. Her one desk light cast an eerie shadow across the door. She watched it vibrate as they struck it over and over. She backed away, the pounding in her chest a repetitious beat of growing dismay. There was only one way down from the second floor, and she was staring at it. She had to call 911. Sienna scurried to reach her phone and stumbled. The back of her knees hit the chair, and she went down the same time the door exploded inward. Sienna ducked behind her board, but it was no protection against what stormed into the room. A shrill scream tore from her mouth. Her lamp fell and broke sinking the room into darkness.

A streetlight outside silhouetted a bulky form coming toward her. Her eyes danced from the floor to her table trying to see what she could use as a weapon. She jumped when a body hit the floor in front of her. At first, she thought it was her mother. The body was small and thin. Her breath caught, and she moaned. She reached for the still figure. But the man struck out with his foot. There was a groan and then the small figure turned its head, tormented eyes she recognized. The figure went to kick the smaller one again.

“No,” she yelled and reached out. “Danny!”

“Ahh, so something else you care about,” The man said.

Sienna tried to scramble up to her knees to get to Danny, protect him, do anything to save them both.

“Don’t move, bitch!” came the voice, at the same time light burst throughout the room.

She blinked as her eyes watered. Able to finally focus, she looked up to see the barrel of a gun pointed at her chest. An electrical chill zipped under her flesh. All she could think of was that she’d let Saint think that all she had ever wanted from him was sex.

Sienna’s eyes flicked down when she heard Danny.

“I’m sa…sorry.” He groaned. Fingers spread out to him. She moved toward Danny, but the man waved the gun at her.

“I told you not to move, bitch!”

“What do you want!”

He fired the gun, and her body quaked in response fear grabbing hold, a hole breaking apart the wall above her head. She whimpered.

“The money your mother owes me.”

“I don’t…,” she stuttered, “have that kind of money.”

He pointed the gun at Danny.

“Wait!” Her breaths came in short puffs. Danny’s face stared off into the distance like he’d gone somewhere else. The man aimed again and fired another shot. Danny’s whole body jerked. It was his only reaction. “Don’t!” She yelled. The man aimed again. “Please don’t.” She began to cry. “Don’t,” she said again her body slumping in defeat. Leaping forward the man grabs her hair, yanks, and bends her neck at an odd angle until he’s inches away from his face, harsh breaths grip her body as searing pain rips through her scalp and neck.

“You gonna get me the money?” She barely could nod, but she did it anyway knowing it was a lie. There was no money.

Trembling with her hair still wrapped in the stranger’s fist she made to stand.

“Get up boy.”

“Go to hell, Marco.” Danny moaned.

Like he hadn’t spoken the man Danny called Marco continued. “You’re coming with us since this bitch likes you so much,” Marco said to Danny. Danny didn’t move. Sienna began to cry harder.

“Danny?” Sienna moved toward him, but the man halted her forward motion. She gritted her teeth. “Let me help him,” she pleaded. “You can’t hold us both.” Suddenly on her hands and knees, he kicked her too. She coughed through the pain.

“Get moving bitch!”

“Danny, honey,” she whispered and crawled toward him. When her fingers touched his shoulder, she could feel him trembling. “Please, Danny. You have to get up.”

“It hurts,” Danny said. Her head fell. If she couldn’t get him up, they were both going to die.

“You don’t get up boy, and I’ll shoot ya. I don’t give a shit if your momma inherits or not.”

“You leave him alone. You’ve done enough already.”

“Oh, you want to talk back some more, bitch?” Her breaths came faster now. She should have kept her mouth shut and not let her anger get the best of her. “You don’t watch yourself I’ll do to you what I been doin’ to your mother.”

“Oh, God!” This man had her mother too. “Where is she? What have you done with her?”

He just smiled and grabbed his crotch, grinding his hips.

“I’ll get him up. I’ll do it. I’ll get him up.”

Struggling, but willing herself to get up so she could figure out how to get them out of this situation, she grabbed the drafting boards leg. On wobbly legs, she wrapped an arm around Danny and levered him under his armpits and pulled up. He weighed little to nothing, no doubt the symptoms of years of neglect.

“Danny? Okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he replied,” but she barely caught it. With each step toward the door, Danny made to breathe, but it rattled, and he flinched.

With the door hanging open they walked right through to the landing. Sienna stopped and glanced down, the biting chill dancing across her skin. The stairs were steep, and the ground wavered beneath her, vertigo causing her to close her eyes to gain her balance. She was afraid, with both of them hurt they would fall.

“Keep moving.”

“Just wait,” she snapped and instantly regretted it. The man’s gun pressed into her cheek. Danny moaned with the sharp movement when instinct had her shifting away. The man’s eyes narrowed only inches from hers that widened. She held still afraid to breathe.

“Move!” the man said as he pressed the cold metal of the gun grinding it into cheekbone.

Danny’s weight in her arms was awkward more like a small animal than a thirteen-year-old. Sienna shifted his small body and Danny whimpered. “It’s okay, we’re okay, we’re okay,” she said, hoping to believe the words she repeated aloud. She prayed Danny would make it his injuries really worrying her. His ribs broken, no doubt, from the kick the man delivered. Hope to God, she thought, he didn’t puncture a lung.

“Hurry up,” the man snapped.

“Please,” she begged. “Danny’s hurt.” She peeked over her shoulder, the gun still pointed at her and Danny. The stranger’s eyes flicked across the area like something was going to jump out of the woods at the back of the building. Sienna wished something would. She wished she hadn’t told Saint it was over. She’d be with him right now.

When they made it to the bottom of the stairs, she barely had time to take a breath when the man pushed them toward a large darkened Cadillac SUV. She almost fell and had to grip Danny so he wouldn’t either. He began to cry silent tears he couldn’t afford. The pain, she thought, must be excruciating.

“Get in.”

Sienna did her best to get in the vehicle.

Sienna tried to lay Danny in the back seat. The man was speaking to her, but she barely could hear him. She heard him too late when again he spoke. Heat seared her cheek. “Where is it?” He hit her again. “Where’s the money.”

“My…my house.”

The lie rolled off her tongue, to save them both from an early grave. She blinked, licking her lip catching the taste of blood from the corner of her mouth. It throbbed, and she couldn’t focus. Marco’s quick exit from the lot caused her to fall onto the floor in the back seat. There wasn’t enough time to put on a seatbelt. With one hand still firmly on Danny, she could feel him tremble. It was then she realized the stranger didn’t ask where she lived. He already knew.

Think, think, she told herself. How was she going to get help?

“Ohhhh,” Danny moaned.

“You’ll be okay Danny,” she said in the softest voice possible. The man didn’t notice, he was too busy driving. She looked back toward Danny when she thought she heard him speak. “What, Danny?”

“So sorry. Sorry. Sorry.”

“Danny, you did nothing wrong.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he kept repeating.

She shook her head confused by his continued apology, and then asked, “Was Saint still at the speedway when you left?” Danny’s eyes flashed, his only reaction since he’d been kicked by the man. “Danny? Was he?” She looked over her shoulder and checked on the man to see if he’d heard her.

“He fell,” Danny wheezed.

“What do you mean?”

“When you pushed him and ran away,” he paused to take an unsteady breath, “he fell and hit his head. I wanted you to hurt you as much as you hurt Saint,” he finished through a wheeze. “I told,” he paused to take a breath, “Marco where you were. I’m sorry.”

“What? Who is Marco,” she whispered dismayed. But never mind about that she thought. His pain-filled eyes held her gaze. “What about Saint,” she asked scared out of her mind even more now. “What about Saint,” she said as she shook him, not meaning to be so rough.

Danny groaned, his fingers gripped her arm, too weak, barely holding on. “Concussion. Maybe,” Danny answered.

Her breath hitched. “Oh, God.” She said too loudly drawing the man’s attention.

“Shut up.” He waved the gun over his shoulder, and she ducked behind the seat.

Sienna couldn’t believe what Danny was saying. Was Saint all right? Had she really pushed him that hard? Hard enough that she’d caused him to fall. She covered her face and began to sob. If they got out of this…no when they got out of this, she had to go to Saint. She couldn’t leave things the way she had. Sienna had to make things right.

When the Cadillac began to slow and stop her mind jumped at what to do but never landed on solid ground. Before she knew it, she was hauled out of the vehicle and dragged to her front door her legs scraping against pavement. The material was tearing, the rough gravel cutting into her exposed skin.

“Open it!” the man said pointing the gun at the door and then again at her. She looked up at him and stood stock still. Her keys were back at Twisted Metal.

“Well, don’t stand there, bitch. Open the door.”

“My keys are in my purse.” Her hands curled into fists and began to sweat. The man looked around.

“Where’s your fucking purse!” He bellowed.

She stared at him not knowing what to do so he wouldn’t kill her. And then she couldn’t think because her body reacted to the pop, pop, pop as he fired the gun and kicked in another door. He yanked her by her arm making her cry out, his fingers like a vice as he dragged her through the front door.

“Where?”

What could she tell him? There was no money.

He shook her over and over, her head jerking back and forth. She tried to grab onto him to find some balance but then she fell, and it was her turn to get kicked again.

“Where’s the money, where’s the money!”

“No money,” she whispered and his face twisted into a mask of something worse than evil.

Sienna’s sobs filled the room.

“I’m gonna enjoy killing you bitch!” He raged. He continued on, berated and condemned her to an unpleasant death, and then he lost his grip and they went down in a heap, the wind knocked out of her. Something landing on them both. She tried to get away. He was distracted. Then she saw Danny. The boy had somehow gotten himself out of the SUV.

Marco gained his feet quickly, Danny’s thin arms not enough to defend himself with, he went down and stayed down. Her eyes blurred with tears, and she waited to see if Danny got up but he didn’t move.

“Danny!” she yelled. Her head snapped to Marco, her rage at what he’d done to an already abused Danny causing the emotional cord that tied up her past in the little box she kept it in, snapped. Sienna launched herself at Marco. She clawed at Marco’s face, kicked him with wild aim. He struck back with his fists instead of his palm like before, and the room danced through a filmy haze. She swung out again aiming for any body part, but she tired and then everything went fuzzier.

“Maybe now you’ll understand who has the power here. And since you lied about the money, maybe your worth a little something to that boyfriend of yours.

Nooooo! Her mind screeched. Then Marco raised his weapon and the haziness she felt from his fists was nothing compared to the butt of his gun as her world bled black and her hope right along with it.