"DeeAye, as his frienemies call him, is trusted by the military in the mountain compound above him to protect and warn them."
"A job He does not take lightly as he delivered his wife Pura there for medical treatment for internal injuries from a Java Monster attack."
"An attack He has vowed to avenge."
(Java Monsters 5)
The Long Run...
The Day had started with a midnight explosion set by Galen as a Java Monster trap where I was used as the bait. None of us had slept. A fireside all night coffee strategy discussion. A meeting of three very different people, with one single goal. To defeat The Java Monsters and deliver the intel to the next runner, to return home at all costs.
Now the sun was high in the sky, it was well into the afternoon. Many miles had been traveled. No Java contact had been made by the three of us.
The Iron Horse Runner...
The old Harley Davidson felt solid and strong beneath me.
I found strength and motivation in the roar of the pipes. The twisted blacktop road leading to the foot of the mountains. To the GPS coordinates we shared. It challenged my motorcycle skills. A lifetime of riding many different 2 wheelers was put to the test.
My tired mind wandered a bit. To a better time and my father who had helped me with the purchase, and securement of the Harley for shipping home to me.
We traveled very different routes. With different vehicles. Mine was in no way a stealthy or quiet vehicle. We all agreed this would be dangerous and might bring on a Java Monster attack. I would gladly take this risk if it meant a better chance for the others to make it to the drop point. I felt confident in the shotgun strapped across my back. Five shotgun shells, and a sixth in the chamber. Custom made by Galen with crystalized non dairy creamer and sugar. We each also held 2 grenades each with a 20-30 meter altitude trigger to rain down powdered milk.
The Diver Runner...
Cameron charted a course on the local waterways. Several lakes and rivers made a winding, twisting route to the foothills leading to the mountains. Cam had come across an abandoned custom narrow race boat with a 600hp race engine that would make the upstream trip in half the time of a normal boat. It was clearly the scene of a Java Monster liquification ceremony. The owners of the boat had been turned to a black coffee like substance. Only a few miles from the boat launch where they may have survived. The Javas feared the water as it weakened them.
Their race boat would live on. It would give The Diver Runner a good chance at surviving the journey.
The Aussie Runner..
Galen would stick to the logging and ATV trails. His Big Dog modified Land Cruiser was well equipped for the trek. He would stay attached to the survival trailer as long as conditions would allow. Stashing it for later retrieval if needed. He was lagging back shadowing our routes with his long range marksmanship and munitions. We all felt this was the best plan for survival with Galen covering our six. Our routes crossed over and ran side by side.
So timing and check points were key.
Nightfall and the Runners...
Our GPS coordinates were to be reached by nightfall. As the last bit of light is disappearing we were to be signalled by The Mountain Biker by a green pistol flare if all is good. A red if there are Javas.
The Red Alert...
We reached the final checkpoint a bit early. An hour before sunset. The mountain cast a great shadow over us. And it already seemed dark where we stood. We could smell the sickly sweet aroma of Java Monsters in the air. Very similar to the opening of a container of fresh ground coffee beans. We knew they must be close by. We took up defensive positions to await The Mountain Bikers signal flare. We heard fully automatic machine gun fire in the distance and several explosions. Could this be the Java Monsters attacking our Mountain Bike Runner?
Or could this be our Runner opening up a giant can of woop ass on the creatures that hurt the one he loves?
𝕋𝕠 𝔹𝕖 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕦𝕖𝕕...
Wɪʟʟ ᴡᴇ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴏᴜʀ Mᴏᴜɴᴛᴀɪɴ Bɪᴋᴇ Rᴜɴɴᴇʀ ʟɪǫᴜɪꜰɪᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ʙᴜᴛ ʜɪs ʙɪᴋᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʙᴀʟʟ ᴄᴀᴘ?
Wɪʟʟ ᴡᴇ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜɴᴅs ᴏꜰ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ɪɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ Assɪsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ Rᴜɴɴᴇʀ ɪɴ ʜɪs ꜰɪɢʜᴛ?
ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴɢᴇ ᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏsᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅs ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴏɴᴇs?
Oʀ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴡᴇ ꜰɪɴᴅ Jᴀᴠᴀ Mᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴘᴀʀᴛs ᴛᴏʀɴ ᴛᴏ sʜʀᴇᴅs ʙʏ DᴇᴇAʏs ᴏᴠᴇʀᴡʜᴇʟᴍɪɴɢ ᴠᴇɴɢᴇᴀɴᴄᴇ?
Aʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ Aᴜᴛʜᴏʀ:
I ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀ, I ᴀᴍ ᴀ sɪᴍᴘʟᴇ ᴍᴀɴ, ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴄᴋ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇʀ/ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴍʏ 30ᴛʜ ʏᴇᴀʀ.
I ʟᴏᴠᴇ sᴄɪᴇɴᴄᴇ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, Jᴀᴠᴀ Mᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ Eɴᴇʀɢʏ ᴅʀɪɴᴋs ᴀɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ Cᴀᴛs.!!
This weekends coffee mug...
Thanks for stopping by and reading this story straight out of the twisted mind of a KrazzyTrukker. And his Cat.
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