A/N: Hey guys... or more like the two people that clicked on the first chapter and left :(
Anyway, I was planning to update this a few days earlier, but I had the flu... it was not fun.
So sorry about that, but here you go, Chapter 3. Enjoy and review please.
Elsewhere, in a mountainous, heavily wooded region of the North Korean/South Korean border. A lone Winnebago was parked in a shadowed and obscured from view thicket. The sun was beginning to rise, covering the sloped valleys of the surrounding area in a gentle light.
The Winnebago itself, was a very...modified version of a normal Winnebago. The front was adorned with a large dozer blade...for some reason. The roof had a glass, ball machine-gun turret that looked like it was literally ripped out of a world war two bomber, if the jagged edges and frayed wires were any indication. Various armor plates were haphazardly welded down all over the ridiculous contraption, and the wheel-wells were covered by large, horizontal armor plates that ran along the sides of the camper like a skirt. A several ton skirt.
Clearly, whoever made this...thing was either a hardcore bad-ass, or frothingly insane... One or the other...maybe a bit of both.
It was this decrepit zombie-apocalypse machine that the last of the three, thirteen year old kids called home. This young lad's name is Evan Mc-Cready and he is currently gazing at his makeshift internet router in irritation, trying will the download of sburb to go faster. His friends in North America were complaining about their wifi, but at least they actually had internet. In the internet empty desert that was North Korea, Evan had to carry his own jury-rigged wifi generating hardware to even connect to the internet. Trying to connect from here was so slow, it made dial-up internet look meteorically fast by comparison. All these damn trees weren't helping either.
Evan was a tall, lanky fellow with a short mop of brown hair adorning his head, and a pointy nose flaked by a pair of hazel eyes. He currently wore a gray, rainproof, hooded jacket with brown work pants and steel-toed boots. His jacket was covered with various utility pouches and ammunition belts. By the Winnebago's door stood his trusty tan backpack, loaded with all sorts of supplies that he would often use to fight the commies with his dad. Like food pouches, flint, water purifiers and box-cutters.
What? A box-cutter isn't a weapon? Evan will have you know that he once almost killed two North Korean latrine-diggers with a box-cutter when he was eight years old. How's that for "not a viable weapon"?
Anyway, Evan lived here with his dad. Said paternal figure arrived in Korea during the Korean war. After being refused from the army, navy and air force on grounds of being "too violent" and "mentally unstable for military duty" he decided that if the U.S army wouldn't send him, he would damn well send himself. Somehow, Evan's dad managed to acquire and drive a Winnebago across several continents, applying upgrades along the way, before arriving in Korea. Also, somewhere along the line Evan was born...or otherwise entered the picture. Evan's dad dosen't exactly remember where Evan came from...he's not even positive that Evan is actually his son...
But that didn't stop him from teaching Evan combat skills and grooming Evan to be his replacement to continue the "good fight" against those damn dirty commies. After the war had ended, Evan's dad refused to accept "those no-good spineless politician's" decision, and thus stayed in Korea, fighting a one-man, one-child war against the entire North Korean army. In a Winnebago. That was beginning to more closely resemble a battle tank than an RV at this point.
Yes, they are both probably, completely insane.
Currently, Evan was downloading sburb and occasionally scanning through pesterchum while keeping an eye outside the camper. His dad had gone off to do recon earlier, as in, a few days earlier. Which left him in the trailer by himself. His dad also had left Evan a list of chores to do. Like refilling the ammunition boxes on the roof turret, washing the windows, and doing the laundry.
Yes, that's right. The Winnebago straight out of Mildly Angry Max, (an obscure and unpopular movie that happened to be one of Evan's secret guilty pleasures to watch) had a washing machine, and dryer combo aboard. It also had other completely normal appliances such as a pair of machine-guns inside the hood. However, since his dad had metal welded over-top of it, the machine-guns couldn't actually shoot at anything and the hood couldn't actually open anymore... oops. But that useless addition had nothing on the "bullet-proof driver shield" that Evan's dad had put in after he got tired of being shot at through the front window while engaging in "ramming maneuvers". Said shield was little more than an ancient lead bathtub on hinges, that connected to the driver's seat via a pair of door hinges. If desired, the driver could turn around, and try to lift the several ton bathtub over top of his head. A metal framework around the driver's seat kept it in place while it was down. The only downside was that "the shield" worked by hiding one's head inside the bathtub, cutting off any possibility of seeing where one is driving... Oh well, what kind of a square actually needs to look where they're going...
Evan absentmindedly noticed that Chris had left a few bothersome messages for him, but disregarded them. If that wretched kleptomaniac needed to talk to him about something noteworthy, then Evan would be up to it. Since it was most likely more of Chris's useless, mildly unsettling jabber, it could wait.
Evan considered getting off his ass and doing some of his chores, but thought better of it, after all, what kind of twisted commie willingly does chores?
Looking around the camper, Evan passed his gaze over the various propaganda posters that littered the walls, most looking like they had come out of the second world war. Elsewhere there was a dartboard with some dirty Korean commie's photo on it... strange...that guy eerily resembles the South Korean President... Yeah, his dad never could tell non-Caucasians apart. Now that Evan thought about it, his dad did act kinda racist sometimes. Occasionally, there were "friendly fire" incidents with South Korean troops... his dad said it was accidental... Evan wasn't positive that he believed him, but his dad was near-sighted...and schizophrenic... and possibly senile... Yeah, this was a great person for raising small children.
Gazing lazily outside the window, Evan thought he could see something moving outside, in the treeline...Dad?
Then his pesterchum beeped, scaring the heck out of him...Of course, it was Chris. Evan sighed deeply, getting more annoyed with the situation with every passing minute. Unfortunately, when Evan got angry, he became unreasonable...and violent. Very, very violent. And right now, he was very close to getting angry.
Looking back to check his pesterchum, he decided to see what it was that Chris wanted from him.
-incoporealCriticist [IC]began pestering EnragedExtremist [EE]-
IC: SENPAIIIII! Why are youignoring me! I NEEDTO TALK TOYOU!
EE: Chris. My patience grows thin with you. Choose your next words carefully.
IC: Oh thereyouare I need to knowif you have sburbyet.
EE: downloading It now
IC: Goodgood, so howare you?
EE: Why do you care? Are you trying to distract me so you can hack me again?
IC: No, no, I wouldnever do that...especiallyafter your...nicethreats of physicalviolence
EE: Those were not threats, those were promises. And they still stand, touch my stuff, and I will drive my Winnebago across the entire goddamn planet to end you. I'm sure the package I sent you back then was... proof of my ability to deliver.
IC: plz no
IC: canwe talk aboutsomething else plz :( im sad
IC: sad faceis sad
IC: Can youfeel its sadness?
EE: Yes, the two dimensional icon positively drips sadness.
EE: So what else did you need?
IC:well Iwas wondering what youwere upto
EE: Not much, dad's off to do some recon, so I'm holding down the fort here.
IC: thefort? Youmean that Winnebago?
EE: Yes, the Winnebago. I'm in the ball turret on the roof with my laptop. Keeping an eye on things... never know when those damn Commies will attack.
IC: im prettysure your kiddingwith that...or atleast I likedto think thatbefore you sentme that box...
As he was typing his response, Evan noticed something moving around in the treeline again. Annoyed, and having nothing better to do, he looked closer this time, determined to spot his unseen stalker. A few minutes of tense silence passed before... absolutely nothing happened. Looking back to pesterchum, Evan almost fell out of his perch when a deafening gunshot shattered the morning's quiet tranquility and something impacted the glass turret. Obviously, it barely scratched the bullet-proof glass Evan's dad had installed after he...found some bullet-proof glass... presumably just lying somewhere, waiting, for an upstanding, red-blooded American like himself to take it.
The shot was not alone, as more bullets began to ping off the ball turret and camper, creating a cacophony of noise throughout the trailer.
Immediately going into full combat mode, Evan scanned the forest, quickly making out a camouflaged (presumably North Korean) soldier trying to lie concealed in a depression in the ground. Glancing around, Evan made out more soldiers...surrounding the RV... More gunshots began to ring out as they all opened fire on the Winnebago. The armor held, but the noise inside was deafening.
Then, his pesterchum beeped again. Evan typed out a quick message to Chris to have him go away, and focused on how he was going to deal with this...oh yeah, the machine-gun.
EE: Shit. .shit. Gotta go.
IC: What? Whatsgoing on?
EE: The North Koreans just opened fire on the trailer. Hold on, ill be back
-EnragedExtremist [EE] ceased pestering incoporealCriticist [IC]-
Evan propped himself back in the turret's metal chair and grabbed the machine-gun's handles. Using the hydraulics to slowly turn the glass half-sphere towards the largest cluster of enemies...who were apparently too stupid to get out of the way, Evan aimed the two high caliber anti-aircraft guns, and gleefully pulled the trigger, expecting the violent dismemberment of his enemy by what was basically an anti-air gun. The mechanism inside the gun did it's thing and... nothing happened...
Evan was beginning to regret not reloading the guns when his dad told him to. Hindsight was, indeed, twenty twenty.
Deciding on a new course of action, Evan dropped down, and ran to the kitchen (which was comprised of a sink, microwave, and a counter-top). Reaching the counter-top, he grabbed a hidden handle on the bottom of it and pulled up, revealing a veritable armory of handguns, ammunition and a rifle. His rifle. Grabbing the rifle, which was modified with a hunting scope and a larger barrel to accommodate a higher bullet caliber, Evan closed the (one of many) gun storage cabinets and ran to the back of the Winnebago, where a small couch was built into the wall. Lifting one of the cushions, and throwing it over his shoulder, Evan revealed a metal hatch built into the couch. Upon throwing it open, a crudely drilled hole leading to the ground beneath the Winnebago was revealed.
Putting the rifle on his back, Evan quietly (not that there was a need to, with the racket put up by the enemies, what were they even shooting at?) clambered down, before dropping onto the moist grass beneath the camper. Removing his rifle and shouldering it, he peered through the scope and sighted his first target, who was oblivious to everything around him, firing his rifle while indiscriminately sweeping side-to-side.
Evan sighed, what an idiot. This guy wasn't even aiming, was he just trying to look busy? These commies were sometimes baffling with their idiocy. Still, they had interrupted his sburb download, halted his conversation with Chris, startled him and made him jump, but most importantly, they made him angry. And now, they would pay...
