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DOOKIE: A COLOURFUL LIFE
CHAPTER 3
Careful; trigger warning / language
DOOKIEBOOKS.COM
LAS RANCHOS WAR
Early on Tuesday morning, just before the sun came up, the invading force of free people slowly lowered dozens of long, long ropes down the cliff face. Dookie and his men quickly repel down and set up a perimeter. The townsfolk follow on down the ropes. Once at the bottom, Baron and Joey help set them up amongst the brush, rocks, and trees on the northern side of the compound. Once the two hundred plus townsfolk were in position, locked and loaded, Baron and Joey made their way sneakily back to Dookie and the warriors.
A few minutes go by. The Warriors wait anxiously to hear the attack begin.
BANG! A rocket grenade lands slap bang in the centre part of the main building, and as it does the townsfolk open fire in unison, lighting up their hiding places with the flame of freedom spurting out the ends of their rifles. Dookie watches on as the GreenBacks and M.G. ‘s congregate like the paid for monkey’s they are, at the northern border of the compound. Dookie signals to his men. Move in.
Like ants swarming on a dropped ice cream, the Warriors take the headquarters, armoury, and jailhouse. They also took out the northern defences from behind to let the townsfolk in. Dookie homed in on the screams and commands of what could only be Aska Aska on the radio requesting help.
He shot, kicked, punched and head butted his way through her defences followed by his three most loyal buddies. They entered the decadent throne room. Bedazzled with jewels and gold their enemy retreated through the side doors. Rusty points and shouts.
“Dooks over there, over there”.
Dookie raises his gaze along the arm of his buddy and across the room to where he was pointing. Just under the throne hides a boy. Dookie calls out to him.
“Xris, it’s dad! I came for you boy!”
The boy springs to his feet and runs to his old man’s waiting arms. They both know there’s no time to talk. Xris reaches his hand out and Dookie reaches into his large camo leg pocket and places his favourite little Uzie in his son’s hand.
“I’ve saved that one for you dude! more magazines in my packs right pocket. Now let’s tear this bitch a new arsehole!!”
Says Dookie.
The boy joins the four Warriors as they plow through the lavish home of the kidnapping Ask Aska. Dookie, now happy as a pig in shit pauses from his rampant killing spree of GreenBacks and M.G. ‘s to consider his agreement with the townsfolk.
He sends Joey back to the cliff face gathering the troops and freed hostages as he goes. He sends Rusty to oversee the removal of wealth from the bitch’s home and Baron to gather some of the stragglers up to assist the wounded, friend and foe, as he retreats with orders to invite any M.G. ‘s to a new life in the Freetown above.
The father and son, however, keep on ploughing through the bitch’s defence for another ten minutes. It feels like a lifetime to her M.G.’s. Her troops begin to surrender to the almost relentless anger and power of the two scariest bloodthirsty freaks they had ever witnessed. But just as they grab the fat, ugly GreenBack bitch, Aska Aska, her reinforcements arrive!
Dookie stands tall over her as he forces the monstrous wench to her knees. His trusted ka-bar pressing against her carotid artery. His boy by his side, reloads another banana clip into the Uzi and holds it out for the uninitiated reinforcements to witness, as they tread over the twitching corpses of their fallen comrades.
An old GreenBack dismounts her M.G. powered tuk-tuk and approaches. Xris whispers to his dad.
“Fuck! It’s her mother! She’s got more power, more M.G.’s, and more coin than this dull bitch can dream of. We’re fucked dude!”
Dookie doesn’t flinch. He keeps his thousand-mile stare locked on his new foe. She stands confidently just five or six feet from them; her hoard of whimpering quim stays some ten or more feet further back. She begins to demand her daughter be returned with immediate effect. Dookie and the boy stand silent.
“You must know, you’ve lost. Your outnumbered, out gunned and surrounded”
The wrinkly old GreenBack states.
Dookie calmly and loudly retorts.
“A great General once said, when told he and his troops were in a similar position to us now, the good news is we can shoot in any direction and hit the enemy!”
The nervous M.G. ‘s back away further, scared they won’t make it home to their ill-gotten gains and stressed-out families. Then Dookie, realising he’s got them on the ropes, looked around to intimidate them a little more. The old hag notices him taking his eyes off her and lunges at the boy and drags him to her side. The boy pulls the trigger and empties the clip as he’s torn away from his father’s side. A few rounds wound the old hag but not enough to put her down, the rest took out 5 more M.G.’s.
A stalemate. Neither side budges. You could hear a pin drop. Then the boy places his Uzi on the floor. He locks eyes with Dookie for a few seconds and Dookie knows it’s over. He eases the pressure on the blade pressing against his captive’s neck, takes a deep breath and begins to negotiate.
He tries to negotiate his son’s freedom, but the GreenBack hag won’t hear of it. In the end he pulls his Glock nine millimetres from its holster and pushes the barrel to Aska Aska’s head. He steps just arm’s length away from her and the old hag allows the same distance for the boy as she keeps her menacing grip on him. They speak quietly for just a few seconds.
The boy reaches out a hand to Aska Aska, and as she takes it, he pulls her toward him. Dookie removes the barrel from her head. She stands to her feet and matches her mother’s line. The bitches stare Dookie down with ferociousness, but as the old hag turns to her commander, and begins to order Dookie’s assassination, the commander’s head explodes! Blood splatters everywhere.
The hag, now with a face full of brain matter and bogies, turns to Dookie.
“What the fuck!”
She screams at him.
Dookie replies.
“That’s the power of a fifty-calibre sniper rifle, bitch. If you thought I didn’t have
backup, you’re wrong. Now here’s the deal. The boy has agreed to stay, with terms…”
He rattles off a small list of demands such as no unwanted sexual advances from her peado daughter, he is to be free to wander the compound alone, etc. No retaliation should be brought to the people of the town of Light or his company of Warriors, and finally, for Dookie to be free to retreat up the cliff.
The GreenBack bitches mull the demands over. They retort with an additional demand of their own, for Dookie’s life to be death to be held off. He must leave the town of free people above within three days. On the fourth, they would hunt him down!
Dookie winks at the brave boy and agrees to the terms. He begins to step backwards and away from the enemy, forced to leave his boy back in the hands of the unhinged bitches. They too back away slowly into the ranks of the M.G.’s.
Dookie watches them disappear, down the dirty tracks for a short moment. His world had just imploded on him, again, and in that quiet moment it began to hit home. The tears run down his face, and he gasps for breath. What does he do now? How does he live? How could he have let this happen? He just stands still. His mind goes into overdrive, beating himself up over and over again. This trauma will walk beside him for eternity. A deep breath. Another. Another.
The Warrior in him needs to come to the surface and take control. He slows his mind and his breathing down. He counts down slowly in his head. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, zee-mother-fucking-row. The Warrior brute regains his composure. He turns and walks back to the cliff face, grabs a rope and his crew of loyal Warriors pull him back up to the town of free people.
His crew console him for his loss as do the townsfolk. He goes back to his room and washes the stains and stink of blood and guts off his skin. That evening the townsfolk held a vigil for the fallen souls lost in battle. They install a wooden monument on the main road with the list of all the men and women who gave their lives for the fight. They included Dookie’s boy on the list, a nice touch he thought.
Don Zukabug holds a toast to the Warriors and invites them to make a home and a new life there in the town. With the money, ammo, and guns they stole from Aska Aska’s compound they can all live a little better and feel a little safer.
The men look to Dookie for guidance. Should they stay? Will he? He explains to his men and Don about the arrangement with the GreenBacks but believes it’s a great place for them to set some roots down. He also suggests they could build lookouts on top of the cliff to watch for any future attacks and become the guardians of the township. Most of the men and Don agree.
Don Zukabug, Rusty, Joey, Baron and Dookie hatched out plans for plots at the edge of town for the new timber frame houses to be built for the Warriors, along with a few little shops, two lookout towers over the cliff face and a police station. All the townsfolk had pledged their support to help with the builds and orders had been sent out for the first bits of construction. The money ‘liberated’ from Aska Aska would more than pay for it all.
Friday morning came and Dookie made sure he had a good shower and massive breakfast as he didn’t know when he would get to have either again. His pack full of supplies and webbing full of loaded magazines for his M3 with five grenades to launch from it. Two boxes of fifty calibre rounds in his cammo’s cargo pocket for the sniper rifle his Warriors insist he take with him, his trusted Glock nine with two mags and his beloved Ka-Bar.
He left town early with very little fuss. Sneaking out before most people were up and about to ensure he made the mountains before the M.G. ‘s got to him. He kept a fast pace all day, barely stopping at all, and made it to the first rocks south of the township by nightfall. He dug himself a little sleeping pit and pulled some bushes across it as he collapsed down to sleep. His first real night alone. He was so tired from the twenty-hour hump across the flat baron lands he just basically passed out.
He woke at first light and crawled out of his hidey hole. He took up position on a high rock to look out at where he’d come from the day before. He could see the M.G. ‘s convoy. They weren’t walking. Lazy fuckers had pickup trucks. And they weren’t far off. Time to test that fifty cal. out he thought. Standing proud on the rock he loads up the weapon with the three rounds it would hold. He takes aim at the centre front of the lead vehicle. Squeezes the trigger and throws that first round down range.
Direct hit! Smack bang into the centre of the radiator grill. The truck rolls to a quick stop and begins to smoke. The M.G. ‘s disembark the vehicle like rats from a sinking ship and congregate at the tailgate end. The other truck slams to a stop too. Dookie cocks the bolt back and takes aim again. The second truck is rendered useless too, with the second-round whipping through its engine block. Now his enemy must hump through the remaining sand as he did.
Now he knows. Twelve men follow him. He grabs his gear and makes his way to higher ground. He makes camp around noon in the cool shade of the mountain. He spies through his binoculars again over the land below, to witness his followers just getting to the first rocks. Again, he loads up that fifty and aims for groups of the M.G. ‘s standing one in front of each other, like the untrained morons they were. Dookie pops a round off and takes out two, centre chest with the first round. The others duck and run for cover. They wait. So does Dookie. He sits and watches them hiding, too fearful of his aim to move. Meanwhile Dookie snacks on a muffin and a bottle of juice.
Twenty minutes go by and the first M.G. boldly moves from his rocky hiding place. Dookie watches him waving his hands at his men, telling them to get up. Dookie puts a small entry hole in his back and a large exit wound in his chest. the enemy M.G. falls to the floor. His men aren’t going anywhere for a while now. Pussies, Dookie thought to himself. He gets his pack on and keeps on up the mountain track. As night fell that evening, he tore some leafy branches off some bushes and used them to conceal his bulky mass as he sat out on a ridge. His enemy had barely moved at all. He watched them as they made a campfire and cooked their MRE’s.
The next day he made and set a few traps on the path. Nothing to ‘killy’, but a few little dug out holes covered with leaves will sprain an ankle or two and slow them down even more. He set five traps and two worked. Two more of his enemies weren’t in pursuit anymore plus one more to assist them. Twelve had become six. Dookie leaves the pathway and heads for some close by gnarly looking rocks. He nestles in and spends the night. The next morning, he stays put. He waits for the six to pass his position.
He watched them all day. These idiots were just following the natural course of the mountain. They hadn’t even noticed Dookie hadn’t been through yet. They made camp in a clearing near a little stream and set up a fire, cooked their food and five went off to sleep. Leaving one on fire watch, on what should have been a two-hour stint before he wakes the next guy to take over. However, about an hour and a half into his shift, Dookie crept up on him. He quickly wrapped his right arm across the M. G’s face, gripping his hand into the left side of his head by the man’s brow and pushed his left hand to the base area of his skull. With one fast almighty push and twist he snapped the unlucky fellas’ neck.
He left the man, hunched over himself and balancing on the rock on which he’d sat for his fire watch. Dookie then etched a note in the dirt to the remaining five just in front of their murdered buddy.
‘Go home’
He retreated into the forested canyon and spent the night watching on from a distance. The five woke from their lovely full night sleep at first light. Dookie could see them panic when they saw the dead watchman. They ran around like headless chickens with their weapons pointing at anything and nothing. The fear was ripe in them. And so, it should be. They knew Dookie wasn’t going to give them a choice again. They packed their shit up and headed back down the mountain like scared little bitches.
Dookie watched them head back down the mountain pass for the rest of the morning. While he did so, he sat up on some large conveniently placed rocks and took a nice slow moving and well earnt dump.
All our battered hero must do now is keep moving.
Battle weary & tired, he made his way calmly and safely down the returning side of the mountain range and past the old southern frontline, the GreenBack’s had enforced for years. Now, just open land and a small river where some people had used the old destroyed Head Quarters buildings and pieces of military equipment, left behind by the fleeing GreenBacks, to convert into the bases of new homesteads for their families.
Dookie stopped and rested there for a few days, but knew he had to keep moving further south and east. East back home. He walked for so long, days had turned to weeks and weeks into months, stopping in villages to rest, but never for more than a few days; just in case. Forever present was the thought of more GreenBacks trailing his scent.
The loneliness grew on him, he reminisced to himself about the buddies he once had, the battles and skirmishes, the friends he’d made along the way. They would be great memories too, if not for the overwhelming sense of loss. That boy. That war. His men. His Corps. He lost it all.
Some Days the grief took over and he would just sit all day, all night, staring into nothingness. Fighting his inner darkness each time, he struggled through those moments, believing there must be some reason for it all.
Better be a good reason. Over and over in his mind he relives the last time our crumbled hero saw his son. how the boy, young and scared, picked his broken father up and told him –
“It will be ok dad”
and facing that insurmountable force of those ‘GreenBack Bastards’ the boy walked heroically back into the torture chamber of the ugly ‘Aska Aska’ ogre to guarantee the life of his father and his battling Warriors. Dookie had lost his boy and the war… or was it just another battle?
His boy, now once again, lost to the perverse GreenBack and her mind twisting darkness. Our hero can only pray that his boy’ mind stays open to the light.
Alone, Dookie fights through the darkness and the voices calling him in. He concentrates on the light. He’s seen people, good people walk into the darkness. It changed them. He tries to set out a new plan in his mind’s eye. If not for himself, for the boy.
there must be some reason I’m still here in the light.
He thinks. He believes.
Stranded in the southern desert wasteland he has no choice. He continues through the dirty sand for freedom, finally into the coastal lands and finds higher ground to secure. He calmly sits on a mountain top. Breathes the fresh, crisp air and tries to empty his mind.
He waits with a watchful eye from his high perch, for a chance to come out of hiding. And, after weeks of waiting, he spies sails on the distant shore. With giddy excitement he all but rolls himself down the mountain at the highest possible speed and wades out into the ocean to greet the vessel.
Once aboard he offers to trade his security services as protection from pirates and offers to help out wherever he can in exchange for transport east. The captain accepts his offer and finally breaks Dookie free of the western lands and rides the tides back home.
Once back on the shores of his rainy homeland Dookie retreats further southeast, back to the Dragon Valley where a crumbling capitalist society has been pushed to the brink.
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