"We helped our still healing Guardian Angel Aussie to the hidden entrance/exit. Then onwards to a breakfast of leftover steak, eggs and croissants."
"While we drank many a cup from a huge pot of Black Rocket Fuel Java that only a
could brew."
Now we ALL had a decision to make...
Stay and Fight or Homebound?
Monsters & Java...
The decision did not come easy to any one of us. One thing we all had in common were the loves of our lives. with his Pura beside him, agreed that putting her in harms way again was simply not an option. G-Dog, Cam, and I, each took turns speaking of our goodbyes to the ones we love. Speaking of our promises to return to them as quickly as we could. The torture of not knowing if they are still alive consuming us as we spoke. It shook us to our cores. Arts suddenly stood up and thanked us for all we had done to help him make his decision. He told us that up until that very moment that he was undecided on staying to fight, or returning to where his Pura and He really wanted to spend whatever time mankind has left to live with those in positions of power so determined to destroy us all
We all decided to spend the day relaxing. Enjoying the safety and tranquility of the lakefront.
The coming evening would be spent packing. Dividing the onsite armory supplies. This dam side bungalow was obviously owned by a military veteran. Well stocked and fortified it certainly was.
G-Dog told us of a Java Monster Liquification site he had seen on the access road leading to the bungalow. We could only speculate that the owners were victims of the Java Monster invasion.
Arts and Cameron spoke of the journey they would make to the U.K.
G-Dog had the longest and hardest journey to make. He sat with us and spoke of a place in the Northern Territory they call "Alice."
He showed us amazing photos of the MacDonnell Ranges, A magical place where his Supergirl and some longtime friends were off grid in hidden caverns just to the left of these twin falls.
The time had come to say our farewells. We did so quickly. The respect we shared was a powerful thing. Each of us saying we would see each other again. Also knowing this was almost certain to be the last time we would.
My trip was the shortest. 5 hours of travel time with stop time additional. My battered, bruised, and still healing body could not handle the motorcycle ride for more than an hour or so at a time. I was wise to stash several gas cans at safe, strategic points along my route. When I volunteered to be a runner and made the trip north. I knew in my heart I would return to my girl. I could only hope she had survived the several months locked down in our hastily made survival shelter.
The Iron Horse roared between my thighs. It dawned on me how many years I had owned this bike. It was amazing that it had survived just like I had. Tattered and torn with many battle scars.
My mind wandered back to the battle with those man made genetic Mrna Vax mutations. The Java Monsters. I wondered if up around the next corner would several appear in my headlight beam and end me. I twisted the right hand grip and added another 20 to my already triple digit speed. I knew the highways very well after traveling millions of miles upon them in my 30+ years as a ...
I only hope that I survive this one last ride and see my two fave girls again...