Chapter Seven: The Fatman Cometh

Luckily for me, it was dark when I encountered this thing. I didn't need light-amp goggles to tell it was hideous, and the odor was atrocious. Like locker room sweat and urine mixed in a pool with spoiled milk. Its arms ended in massive metal tubes which I knew weren't Pringles cans. There were three on each arm, actually, now that I looked harder. Long coiled wires connected it to… to the fatty's back. I quickly sprinted behind an electric pole to examine it further. I slid the light-amp goggles over my eyes silently to see even more of the gruesome thing. Its eyes were tiny black beads, which I doubted could see beyond the huge expanse of flesh that was its stomach. Its ears were two holes in the sides of its head, obviously unable to hear much if at all.

I did not like the looks of this thing, and my arsenal seemed quite useless when facing this pitiful excuse for a monster. It still scared the crap out of me, though. I grabbed my minigun and loaded up the magazines, then got ready to rock and roll. The fatty's steps grew more and more ominous as I hurriedly placed my goggles in a pocket and peeked around the pole.

All hell broke loose.

The thing saw me, grinned, the lifted its gigantic metal arms. I definitely didn't want to know what would come flying out of the tubes, and I didn't expect it to shower me with daisies either. I leapt to the right and fired as I flew majestically through the air. The bullets didn't seem to be hurting the thing at all. I kept at it, dodging and firing, moving and pelting, as the fatty fired tons and tons of huge fireballs at me from his multi-barreled pyromaniacal weapons. Spiny snotballs didn't have anything on this guy's stuff. I noticed it start to become more and more tired as I poured more rounds into his flabs.

Next thing I knew, a whole squad of spinies came out of the woodwork. They started firing their fireballs at me while I tried to keep out of the way of fatty's. One tense minute later, the fatty was retaliating against the retarded spiny who accidentally pegged him in the back. Thus he solved one of my problems. Another half hour raged on, as the fatty mowed down the spiny entourage and I dealt the final blow with my duck gun. Fatty crumbled down to the ground, his skeleton puncturing through the flabby flesh. I nearly lost my lunch again.

I sat against the pole, reflecting on the incredible turn of events. If those spinies hadn't come around, I'd probably have had to fight them on my own later on. I reloaded my guns and took a drink of water from my canteen, then moved on.

The night dragged on as I dodged large platoons of zombies shambling toward the general direction of the airbase, the very same airbase I was going to. I was losing any hope that I would find an area unguarded, with a helicopter to boot. Luck seemed to be broken at that point. If I weren't covered in blood from recent encounters with the Bad Guys, then I would have been shot to pieces right then and there. I won't bore you with the details of my walk amongst the zombies. It was monotonous and took three days to actually reach the airbase. When I arrived, my hardest journey occurred.