Doing Time

Zombie or Post Apocalyptic themed fiction/stories.

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Re: Doing Time

Post by Halfapint » Sun Apr 15, 2018 11:27 am

Woohoo!!!!! Thanks! Weird I didn't get an update that this got updated. Glad I scrolled through and saw it was bumped up! Keep them coming Groucho you're a wonderful writer!
JeeperCreeper wrote:I like huge dicks, Halfapint, so you are OK in my book.... hahaha
Spazzy wrote:Tell ya what... If Zombies attack and the world ends I'll hook tandem toddlers to a plow if it means I'll be able to eat...

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Re: Doing Time

Post by Johan » Sun May 06, 2018 2:52 pm

Thank you for the uppdate!!
lf asking for Moooar works, count on me to keep asking, begging or whatever it takes, I love this story...
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Re: Doing Time

Post by Groucho » Wed Jun 20, 2018 3:01 pm

Sorry for the delay. Been getting my house ready to sell. :(

The Cessna circled around for a final approach, gently touched down and rolled to a stop. Trask hopped out, walked within reasonable shooting distance of the dead, then dropped to one knee. "The rifle was much pleasanter to shoot with ear plugs" the Captain thought, sending the remaining flesh eaters to a final rest.

Illion and his security detail drove up once the shooting was over. "Nice exhibition Sir" he greeted his superior, really thinking what a waste of ammo it was. Trask nodded at the Lieutenant and turned to the felons. " Thank you for the flight, that takes care of one of my goals. Would you care to know what my second goal was? It concerns you two".

Trey and Joker looked at the two officers, both had their weapons slung and the rest of their men hadn't been summoned. "Only if you care to share" Trey replied politely.

Illion was as interested as the cellmates were. "The Army would like their laser carrier back, please" the man in gray stated outright. Joker started to sputter, however Trask raised a hand to forestall the coming outburst. "I understand that you had legitimate grievances, but Barton is dead. You got to play with your new toy for a while, although I'd guess that it has been parked unused for some time now".

Joker never gave up anything that he stole on general principle, unless it was for cash, certainly not because somebody added a please to the demand. Trey was surprised that he'd thought the Army wasn't going to let this go, he should have known better. "My associate and I will need to discuss the situation" the bank robber stated flatly, promising nothing. The airplane's crew watched the others leave in the trucks. "Let's get out of here" Trey told his grumpy friend. The Cessna lifted off with Joker at the controls. Both men kept their thoughts to themselves during the flight. Joker made his approach, followed by a landing that was just as good as Trey's most recent attempt.

Joker broke the silence after he parked in the designated area. "Trask has a point" he commented surprising his friend. "We don't do anything with it, not lately anyway".

Trey attached the static cable and started on the tie downs. "I was thinking the same thing. Maybe if we saw herds everyday it would be different. I wonder if the military will actually use it though".

"Should we fuel the bird" Joker asked, changing the subject?

"What if somebody steals it" The taller man asked?

"What if we need it in a hurry" Joker countered?

"We have time, why not" Trey said, looking at the sun's position.

The two men began filling fuel cans and hauling them to the flight line. When the thief descended the ladder from his turn with a five gallon can, he griped "We have to find a new pump. Hit the hardware and plumbing stores. This is ridiculous".

"Don't forget a new landing spot" Trey reminded him. " There are a couple golf courses up here in Venango county, we should check them out. As a matter of fact, now that I think of it, there are a couple closer to home in Mercer county".

"Nobody but you country bumpkins and rednecks live here and you got golf courses" Joker shook his head in wonder.

"Some people made a good living off you city folks that came up here in the summer. They'd golf, fish and stuff".

"All the planes are gone, where did they all go" Joker changed the subject?

"I'd guess they went north to Canada or west to Kansas or Nebraska. Maybe the Dakotas, even. I don't know how that worked out for them, they couldn't have taken much with them. Maybe they had summer places out in the boondocks".

"They were already in the boondocks" the thief said, referring to anything outside a city's limits in his opinion".

The cellmates drove off to the west when they left. Trey had Joker cut across country, changing roads when the one they were on went too far north or south. Upon reaching the north and south interstate, the men parked the Mercedes. The criminals didn't see any movement, so they crept up for a look. The lanes were clear to the south, with a few distant humanoid shapes to the north. Joker drove under the multilane highway continuing west. Finally, they emerged onto route 58 which was Greenville Mercer road. "Which way" the smaller man asked?

"Let's try south".

The country held some homes, however most of the ground was farmed or patches of woodlands. The only goon they saw was a farmer, standing at a fence in his stripped, bib overalls and Casey Jones hat, over his knees in tall grass. He appeared to have been gnawed on pretty good and standing out in the weather had not helped his appearance. The once human became agitated when the car stopped. The zombie began pushing on the barbed wire, property fence. The barrier moved back and forth twenty yards in each direction. Trey's muffled, rifle shot dropped the goon forward, overalls snagged on the top strand of fencing, making it sag several inches.

A dozen miles north of Mercer the pair saw the road sign for Golf Road and made the right turn, arriving at the Mercer Public Golf Course a short distance down the road. Trey expected a gravel drive, however he was surprised at the nice sign and smooth blacktop. A thin belt of trees screened the parking area and club house from passersby. A recent model truck was surrounded by dead bodies. A trail of bodies led back to the drive, as though the dead had followed the truck when it entered the lot. The felons spied a lot of spent rifle cartridges laying among the stinking, dead bodies and empty, beer cans.

The two men stood, taking a slow look around the area, seeing and hearing nothing. They turned their attention toward the clubhouse. The glass had been broken out of the entrance door, covering the sidewalk leading up to the door. There was no avoiding the shards, which made a harsh grinding sound against the concrete when stepped on. The noxious smell accompanied them inside, the wet, carpet squishing when it was walked on. They found the an empty bottle of rum and truck's owner who had shot himself in the head. The suicide had occurred long enough ago, that the blood had corroded the finish of the rifle before drying into a hard crust. The body wore a heavy coat, so it must have occurred early on.

The crinkle of cellophane interrupted Trey's study of the dead man. His partner was transferring the snacks from a rack by the cash register to a handy plastic bag. "Cashews" the thief announced, "but no jerky". The small pro shop attached to the lobby held no interest for the bank robber. A drift of dead leaves against the base of the counter crunched when Trey went through the swinging gate to check behind the counter. His knuckles rapped on the lone door set in the rear wall. Receiving no response, the door was opened, showing a room that was half office and half storage. The shelves were only golf supplies and equipment, while the desk only held paperwork.

"When you're done shopping let's see if we can get that truck running". Trey had the German car's trunk open, looking for the jumper cables by the time Joker joined him. The truck was unlocked and the key was in the ignition. The pair were forced to move a few bodies to make room for the Mercedes, however the truck started right up. "I always wanted to four wheel through a golf course" Trey told his friend, who only grunted in reply. The truck seemed to run fine, for as long as it must have been parked. The men circled the parking lot, then set off through the yard. The course seemed rough for a golf course to Trey, who had expected a really smooth ride. None of the fairways looked long enough to handle the Cessna landing.

Back at the car they discussed what to do next. "There's another course closer to town" the bank robber said.

"Aw crap" Joker exclaimed after opening one of his bags. "This stuff smells like dead guy" said wrinkling his nose. "I really wanted some cashews". The angry felon spun the bag several times by the handle, then launched it into the air to burst out in the lot when it landed. The second bag followed the first. The truck pulled out onto the road, then sped away so the driver could see what it would do. The Mercedes tagged along behind, not in any hurry. Trey waited at the turn off for Joker to catch up. "I think it's down this way" was the Army veteran's plan. The truck turned onto Market Street, which became Old Sharon Road. The club was right where the road branched off giving a driver three choices.

The sign announced the location of the Spring Valley Golf and Country Club. Joker managed to open the gate despite the lock. An access road passed alongside a cluster of building, changing into a long, narrow parking area, paralleling the road out of Mercer. The lot would have been empty if not for the presence of a tractor. A snow blade had been added to the machine for plowing. Undoubtedly, the operator had a good reason for leaving the equipment there. Although, whoever it was took the time to lock the gate. The building itself had been extended several times. A decent sized restaurant had been added, as well as a separate pro shop and locker room. A large addition puzzled the two men until they reached a window. Forty golf carts were crammed in with a work bench and maintenance area. The most recent addition was a now empty swimming pool.

From a pilot's point of view, there was only one area where they could land the plane. Between the forest to the south and narrow rows of trees planted on the course, a east and west landing would be possible. The Cessna would be either beginning a trip or ending it right next to the pool. The approach would be over a long stretch of empty farmland. Trey drove the perimeter in the big truck, checking that the fence went all the way around. Most of it could be seen from the ground's building, but not all. The bank robber led the way into the forest, walking along the fence. Along the way, they removed large limbs and small trees that lay on the fence. The staples had popped loose from the force, however the two men braced the wire with study hardwood limbs.

Back at the clubhouse, they discussed its merits. Joker was all for using the location, but he could see his friend had doubts. "What's wrong with it" the thief asked?

"The prison is right down there" the taller man pointed south. "Sure, we can do a low altitude approach so they don't see us. Unfortunately, they could hear the engine. Plus we'll be coming in from the east, it could pull in any goons that are on the interstate" Trey listed each point on his fingers.

"You're a killjoy. Did you know that"?

"Yes. I don't mean to brag, but it's one of my many talents" Trey retorted with a smile. " There's a couple more courses west of here, but I think we should be looking at farm fields instead. Most of them are fenced in and up here they're pretty level. ".

"Why were we looking at golf courses then" Joker?

"I remember reading about planes making emergency landings on golf courses. It seemed like a good idea at the time" the bank robber explained. The men began driving around the country roads, checking out the fields. Most of the ground they were seeing wasn't long enough, was too rolling in nature or had tall trees at the end.

"We should be doing this by air" Joker suggested. "You know we'll have to haul fuel if we find a place".

"Yep, things are getting complicated. We should still have an alternate though, just in case".

Trey drove for awhile longer before Joker spoke again. "So what do we do about the laser"?

"They came to see about the explosion, the laser is sort of an afterthought". The ex-soldier paused "Maybe if we give it back they'll all go away. The Army has a lot more to think about these days".

"Fine by me" the small man said. He wasn't in the habit of returning stolen goods, but an army had never come after him before. Of course, there was that one time he had a problem with the Philadelphia mob. Not only did he have to return the score, in addition, he had to do another job they needed done as a sort of fine. Both groups had machine guns and weren't afraid to use them. "Do we just drive it up to the Prison and say here you go".

"No, that would seem like we're licking their boots. We'll show them where it is, although we'll probably have to drive it until they get the rig on a four lane".

The felons arrived back at the farm in time for supper. Parking was a little tight, as Illion, true to his word, had sent some troops to do the hoeing. The grumpy, sunburned soldiers with blistered hands, sat on the porch waiting to be fed. Joker heard the grumbling among soldiers and said "Skilled labor never does the grunt work boys".

Before the well fed soldiers departed, Trey gave the Corporal in charge of the detail a message to deliver to Trask and Illion. The cellmates were outside with the kids, playing a game they made up. The youngsters were laughing at the rules the two men made up as they went along. When they were called to the radio, they passed an imaginary crown to Bridgett putting her in charge. There were groans of disappointment from the children until Joker asked "What did I teach you"?

"Bidness is bidness" the four answered with smiles, although they weren't sure what it meant.

Inside, Joker grabbed the microphone "That was quick".

"What do you want" Illion asked politely.

"We decided in the spirit of cooperation to show you where the laser is".

"That's good news" the lieutenant responded. There was a pause, then the radio came to life again "How about tomorrow"?

"OK. Send a different bunch of soldier boys tomorrow. The ones from today are all tuckered out".

The next morning after breakfast, the convicts checked out the new truck. The tires needed some air, however the fluid levels were good. They didn't have duplicates for everything they were used to packing, but what they did have was loaded. The good medical kit was in the missing truck, as well as the better tool kit, flashlights and the water cans. Joker picked out what to take to get the big rig running if necessary. "Ammo is getting low, we should stop at the stash and pick some up" Trey suggested.

On the way to the Penitentiary, they made a stop for gas. The dead, who had been conspicuous by their absence, now seemed to be everywhere they went. Three goons were waiting at the old station when Joker stopped at the last bend. Trey used the binoculars to take a good look at the place before driving up. The truck idled toward the station, stopping once the reanimated humans became aware of them. "My turn" the thief said, sliding from behind the steering wheel onto the road. As the dead drew closer. he noticed the lead figure was a little faster than the others. It's clothing wasn't as faded as most of the goons', although they were stained with the black ichor that dribbled from the wounds they died from.

Joker leaned against the hood of the truck waiting for his adversaries to close the distance. Bored, he scooped up a handful of rocks that a hard rain had washed onto the road. His first efforts were misses, although his aim improved as the distance shortened. Even a solid hit drew no response from the dead.
With his last rock he managed to strike the lead goon right on the forehead. The dead man stopped in his tracks, slightly tipped it's head back and rolled it's eyes upward. The thief burst out laughing at what may have been a look of surprise on the dead face. Even his partner watching the scene play out was amused.

The small man walked a short distance off the road and the goons adjusted their courses accordingly. His first thrust with the spear was like attempting to pierce a tree with his weapon. The dead man was knocked over with the force of contact. Joker struck a second and then a third time before the blade penetrated into the skull. Its eyes rolled up with the pupils out of sight and began to shake as though having a seizure. In the end, he had to put a foot on the figure's chin to withdraw the spear. By then the other two were uncomfortably close. Trey had left the vehicle to back up his friend, however the spear quickly destroyed the other dead.

"Hey, come look at this one" Joker called out. Trey joined him, watching as the thief thumped the head of the first goon. "It sounds like I'm hitting a dead tree". The zombie convulsed, making the two men jump back. Trey shot the goon in the head with the silenced handgun. Examining the wound revealed a crack in the skull, rather than the hole normally expected. "Weird" Joker said, staring at the freak.

"A statistical anomaly" Trey replied. "I suspect the same variation in reaction to disease live humans often have".

The smaller man stared at the speaker for a moment , then said "That's good to know Doctor McFaren".

When they arrived at the prison, Captain Trask and his party were waiting outside the gate. "Good morning" the MI officer smiled.

"Been waiting long" Joker asked? Without waiting for an answer, he continued speaking "We ran into some of the dead we had to deal with".

"Oh, about ten minutes" Trask replied to the question. "So where are we going" he asked his own question?

Trey half turned away from the group and without looking pointed with one hand "Southeast. I have to warn you guys though, the road gets really narrow. It will be slow going on the way back, we barely got it in there".

Trask didn't care much for the crazy grin on Joker's face at his friend's comment. "If it went in, then it will come out".

"Theoretically, yes, but you know what they say" the bank robber stated.

"What do they say" the man with the scar asked?

"Drive it like it was stolen" Joker crowed, making the younger soldiers smile.

Can anyone here drive a truck" Trey asked? The soldiers reacted as groups often do. Those who couldn't drive, looked at everyone else to see if someone else could. "I'll take that as a solid no then". The group drove out the access road, following the criminals who turned south on route 8. The trip went smoothly and they soon reached I-80 where their customary stop was made. Trask caught up to the cellmates as they crept forward for a look at the four lane. "Why are we stopping"?

"If there's a horde walking by, we'd just as soon not interrupt them" Trey answered seriously.

"Well, that does make sense" Trask agreed with the practice as he eyeballed the empty interstate in both directions.

From that point on the travelers encountered more of the dead. The third time they stopped to destroy a handful of dead in the road, Trask asked if this was normal. "Nope, they're all moving for some reason" Joker answered. "Maybe it's the weather, summer's over".

In Harrisville, where the felons had raided the gun shop, they stopped to shoot half a dozen dead who blocked the intersection at the village's only traffic light. The goons began filtering onto the road from between the houses. Impatiently, Trey pointed back at the soldiers who didn't know that they were being surrounded. Illion had the good sense to initially order only those with suppressors to fire. A small voice began whispering in Trey's ear that it was time to go. He banged on the hood getting Joker's attention, "We got to go"!

Trey spared a glance behind them when he clambered aboard the truck. Nobody was looking in their direction. "Reverse" he instructed the driver. The thief shift into reverse and punched the gas while beeping the horn. Illion jumped out of the way to keep from getting hit and the bumper flattened three flesh eaters, who were closing in on a panicked trooper reloading. "Time to go LT" the bank robber yelled over the gunshots of the rifles without supressors who had joined the fray. Trey continued to fire from his window, giving the soldiers time to mount up. Joker watched his mirror until everyone was off the ground, then hit the gas. In response to his navigator yelling "Right", the driver over steered sliding into a turn, corrected the slide and sped though a gap in the wall of the dead.

The other trucks followed close enough behind to keep the gap clear, except the trail vehicle. The dead man that walked into the front fender flew into pieces, spraying decayed flesh and black bile onto the hood and windscreen and crumpling the fender. The dead were out of sight before Trey had Joker make a left turn to continue south. That was when he realized they were short one vehicle. Knowing they couldn't wait long, he dismounted and walked toward the road. The lost truck limped up the road, also making the turn accompanied by the sound of rubber rubbing metal. The remnants of the fender were pushing hard against the tire. There weren't any volunteers to grab the zombie coated metal to try and bend it. Joker saved the day with a piece of old pipe he'd found long ago. Using it as a lever the soldiers bent the metal away from the tire.

The felons were concerned about the loud reports of the stock rifles attracting the attention of the dead. The side road they were on connected back to route 8 a short way south of the village. The goons that were spotted along or approaching the major two lane road may have been there anyway. the goons were out in force today. The closer to Butler the group went the more built up the area became. Trey had the driver make a left turn by the drive-in, then a right so they moved toward the east. At the next intersection, Joker made another left turn that circled the Mall while staying out of sight. The two men called out to each other when a goon was spotted. They entered town on the back streets and even at their slower speed dodged the attracted dead.

At the first glimpse of the six story hospital, Trey had Joker make a left and then a right turn. The street dropped down a hill with trees on both sides, coming out on the floor of the valley. The entrance ramp to 422, the east, west traffic way, was in view two short blocks away. The short convoy squeezed past the SUV that had run up on the guard rail of the ramp. At the top of the ramp Joker nudged a small car sitting on its roof. The wreck rotated ninety degrees with a harsh scraping sound, taking some paint off the lead truck in the bargain. The sight that greeted the traveler merging onto the four lane surprised all but the two convicts. Nearly straight lines of dead bodies ran up the road ahead.

Trey and Joker were especially interested, since they were the ones who had used the laser to such good effect. Joker drove slowly, letting the others have a good look at the results. Trey was sure Trask would make the connection without being told. There were gaps in the bodies at each bend and hill where the weapon didn't have line of sight it needed. The pair even stopped to get out and look around at the bottom of a hill. They were searching for the spot that the laser had contacted the pavement after exiting the last goon. The men expected a hole, but found only a shallow melted spot on the pavement.
Trask got out to look also. The captain looked at the felons, the string of corpses and back at the felons.

When the convoy reached Worthington, they turned north on a narrower road. Joker followed Trey's directions because he recognized some landmarks. There was the old building that looked ready to collapse, here was the lone tree out in a field, another place had a power pole whose cross tie sat at an angle. They disagreed on which way to go at a crossroad and ended up dismounting. "It had to be down the hill" the bank robber pointed to the left.

"I don't remember going down a hill" Joker stated flatly. "How can you be so sure"?

"Remember the narrow bridge over the creek? Creeks are at the bottom of hills, not the top". Trey smiled at his friend.

Joker grumbled under his breath as he turned downhill. The rest of the party crossed the iron bridge over the creek, wondering how a large truck had managed to cross. Trask now understood Trey's comment about getting the truck out the way it went in, "in theory". The Captain's understanding was reinforced by a series of sharp bends they passed through after the bridge. The road had drop-offs in some places, although it was bordered by tall banks in others. The felons turned off into the clearing where the old building was located. The rest of the group stopped, some parked in the clearing while there was room, while others were forced to remain on the road. All looked at the last couple feet of the trailer, wondering what the building's purpose was and why it was located here. Trask commented to Illion, "If any of your guys are mechanical, you better send them over".

Two men were sent in case Joker needed help. The drivers stayed with their vehicles and sentries were posted so the soldiers wouldn't be surprised. The thief started by checking the batteries. Thanks to the solar chargers, dead batteries wouldn't be a problem. He had the hood up, with only his feet visible as the small man went about checking belts, fluid levels and looked over the engine in general. Soldier one was from a family of shade tree mechanics. Olsen was in the Army because his daddy had been a soldier and the family had trouble feeding all those mouths. Soldier two was an experienced car thief. Winstead had stolen more cars than most people had owned. He hadn't started counting until he was well into a career of crime, however he was positive the score was three hundred and then some. Like most survivors, his occupation had disappeared with the resurrection of the dead. Joker had the two find a grease gun and begin looking for grease fittings underneath the rig.

Figuring he was management in this case, Trey sought the company of the officers. "In case you're guessing, the truck went in there slick as snot" the bank robber smiled.

"Do you think you can get it out" Illion asked?

The convict shrugged in reply. "We didn't figure on going back the way we came. I really try not to do that. I do predict we're going to have to cut some of the banks away as it is. Going back is probably twice as much digging" he pointed out the shale road banks. Trey laughed at the concerned looks he received. "We brought some shovels and a pick" he added helpfully. "Of course, there are no guarantees in either direction". Illion rounded up the drivers leaning against the fenders of whatever they were driving. Once each soldier was armed with a tool to displace obstructions, Trey walked them to trouble areas. Like most back roads in the area, one or both sides were lined by ditches to carry away the runoff from rains or melting snow.

"These banks need cut down" Trey declared dragging a stick along the road bank, the loose shale tumbling down from the light contact. "This is where the trailer deck will make contact. Luckily, whatever you dig out can go in the ditches and spread out on the road" the convict finished, assuming the officers agreed.

Meanwhile, Joker thought it was funny to have assistants searching for muffler leaks. He looked at them like they were idiots when they protested that the engine wasn't even running. His insane smile convinced them that they were dealing with nut case, so back under the truck they went. He gave them ten minutes before banging on the frame with a wrench, ordering them to finish up. The group outside all turned their heads at the staccato noise the starter made. On the third attempt the motor caught, the operator feathered the accelerator with the rising sound, once it was running even pushed down making it roar. The diggers added effort to their task, the sentries had taken rifles off their shoulders, who knew what the noise might bring.

Speaking loudly over the sound of the truck, Trask was ordering half their escort in front of the big rig and half behind. "What if we get hung up" Trey asked. "Your support will be split and most of you guys don't know the way home. I suggest in front, so we're not back tracking, if the worst happens. Trask sighed, thinking "So much for military intelligence", before agreeing with the crook.

Joker had his assistants posted as ground guides at the rear of the trailer. Without thinking of telling anybody, he backed the semi truck out of its storage space barely above an idle.. Nearing the edge of the road, he braked to a stop. The driver steered the cab to the left, barely missing the front corner of the building, but angled away from the back corner. The guides had run to the front of the truck, however not much could be seen through the knee high grass. The front tires bumped over rocks, boards and assorted trash. Belatedly, Joker thought that he should have checked the area first, but carried on hoping to avoid getting a flat tire.

The front bumper almost touched a Hickory tree when the truck stopped. Shifting into reverse, Joker repeated the word "Finesse". "Make her want to go where she has to ". The huge machine slowly moved backward, the ground guides racing from the front to the back bumper. The cab tilted when the left front tire rolled up a high spot in the drive, the front bumper brushing bark from the closest tree. The driver turned the steering wheel to straighten the tires. The diggers and ground guides watched the corner of the flatbed rub the shale bank, causing a cascade of finely stratified, sedimentary rock. Joker left the cab to check how much room he had to pull forward. Seeing he only had a couple of feet, he beckoned the diggers with a wave, falling back to his past as a foreman on a job site.

The sweaty soldiers began attacking the bank with their tools. Panting heavily, they moved away when Joker called a halt and climbed into the cab once again. The big truck bumped and scraped its way back onto the road. Trask called in his troops, who scrambled into their vehicles, happy to be moving at last.
Trey joined his partner with a big smile and the comment "Well, it's about time". Thief wouldn't be baited "Hey, they're amateurs". Twice more the convoy was stopped for some light shovel work. The next holdup occurred when they arrived at an intersection where the only choices was right or left. "We're going that way" Trey said, pointing to the left.

The diggers set to work on the areas that Joker decided need to be reconfigured. The road the truck was on widened at the intersection and the adjoining road was wider than the one they had been following. The right side of the old road was slowly carved away, as was the left side of the new road. The big rig made the turn, the front bumper knocking shale from the bank on the left and the side of the trailer grinding against the right side. Trey had the group avoid the mall they had passed earlier, on a different road. He had selected route 308, instead of the busy route 8 they had driven south on.

Almost immediately, the collection of vehicles was traveling through sparsely built up area. Much of the land was used by farms, although there were also homes on several acres of land. The village of West Sunbury delayed them only long enough to dispose of the single goon that populated the settlement that once numbered just over one hundred souls. A mile north lay the high school for the surrounding area. The lawn was a sea of various transportation, from cars to buses and recreational vehicles. Trash covered a large part of the grass and asphalt. Surprisingly, there wasn't a goon in sight.

In the valley behind the school was a lake on the state game lands. A hilltop close to a mile away was his father's favorite spot for early goose season. Trey , his brother and the old man waited for the large birds to cross the ridge before dropping down to the open water. Often serenaded by the high school band practicing prior to football season. Trey was shocked at the feeling of sadness the memory evoked. He shook his head angrily before pounding his fist on the dashboard. The truck swerved on the road when the surprised Joker reacted to the outburst. "What the hell was that" he asked? The bank robber didn't trust his voice to answer and only waved a hand, while looking out the window.

Arriving at I-80, the criminals and the officers crept forward for a covert look at the interstate. Two figures far to the east were all there was to see. Even the binoculars provided little detail, other than the fact that they staggered like the dead. The convoy arrived back at the prison without further difficulties. Joker circled the area inside the wall, then parked facing the gate across the common area. A few curious civilians and the FBI agents had gathered to watch their arrival.

The criminals left the truck walking towards the officers. "Here she is, safe and sound" the thief said, extending his hand holding the key to the big rig. Trey got a bad feeling, but before he could act the criminals had half a dozen weapons pointed at them. "I apologize, it isn't fair, however those are my orders" Trask said. The agents relieved the two men of their weapons. Trey and joker, with their hands against the side of the truck, were searched and their possessions taken. By the time they were in cuffs, Joker was so mad he couldn't make a coherent sentence. Trey had shaken off the melancholy feeling and laughed when the long list of charges against them were read aloud by Agent Tooker.

The agents, Mr. Swann and a handful of soldiers escorted the convicts to the isolation cells, they had previously occupied by order of Major Barton. Swanny looked embarrassed when he opened the cell doors and then locked the doors behind them. Illion looked as mad as Joker did, although he didn't protest. None of the soldiers had any previous type of contact with the convicts. Trey sat on the bunk, picking up the magazine he'd been reading on the last stay here. He looked at the page, however his mind was running different scenarios. Things didn't look good.

Joker paced back and forth like a tiger in his cage. "Trey was taking this awfully well" he thought. He hoped his partner had a plan. The small man had an edge, he'd just have to wait and see how things played out. His anger gone, he sorted through the reading material in the small cell. The institutional part of his brain asserted itself, "Never let them know they had gotten to you". He leaned back on the bunk, crossed his legs and began to read.
Three men and a woman trapped in a building, send help. If you can't send help send two more women. Groucho Marx-Duck Soup

USAF SP 72-77,US Army reserves 84-92

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Re: Doing Time

Post by bodyparts » Fri Jun 22, 2018 7:45 am

thanks for the update Groucho !! good stuff as always ! looking forward to MOAR !!

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Re: Doing Time

Post by Halfapint » Sat Jun 23, 2018 12:10 pm

My notification didn't work. Great update, thanks Groucho!
JeeperCreeper wrote:I like huge dicks, Halfapint, so you are OK in my book.... hahaha
Spazzy wrote:Tell ya what... If Zombies attack and the world ends I'll hook tandem toddlers to a plow if it means I'll be able to eat...

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Re: Doing Time

Post by teotwaki » Thu Jun 28, 2018 4:17 pm

Thank you very much Groucho! I was out of country for about 10 days and it was great to have something really good to read today :mrgreen:
My adventures and pictures are on my blog

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Re: Doing Time

Post by Aries0704 » Thu Sep 06, 2018 11:48 am

Loving this story thanks for all the hard work :)

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