The Feet of God

31 - YOU MADE ME DO IT

“Driver, full reverse!” Moses commanded.

Meanwhile, Ma began to hum.  She calmly bent down to pick up one of the rag-stuffed bottles and lit the fuse while leaning back, taking aim with a singleness of purpose, and she let that sucker fly!

Frantically following orders, the driver spun wheels in the dirt while trying to pull the great star back from the front as other vehicles moved forward in a position to protect him, but to no avail.  Ma’s Molotov cocktail landed square on the hood of Hummer One.  The explosive flash was blinding!

Behind the flames I could see a seared Moses Remington still standing and gripping a blackened roll-bar.  His perfect hairpiece smoldered on the ground, his face was a charred mask, and his one good eye burned with pure rage.

“Fire!”  Moses shouted to heaven.

The troops seemed confused.  Many threw down their weapons and ran for the woods.  Others lowered their assault rifles and lingered about waiting for clearer instruction.  But the ones who had me most concerned was the ones drawing a bead on the house with an Army surplus artillery piece.

Ma gasped.

“Bob!  Bob!  Nooooo!”  She sobbed, shimmying to the edge of the roof.  The initial exchange of fire had taken place while Bob was running toward Rufus in the open.  Now, in the yard below, Bob and Rufus was stretched out in what might look like two sweethearts in a loving embrace.  Then it became apparent what held them so tight.  The antenna from Hummer One had been blowed straight through their youthful beating hearts, impaling them together, tangled in bloody repose.

Rufus suddenly stirred and jerked a bit, and I swear I heard him cry, “Mommy.”  Then his body went entirely limp.

“Ma,” I urged the old woman as I pulled her back from the edge of the gutter pipe and back toward the open window.  “C’mon.  We don’t know when the next round hits.  Let’s get inside.”

“You’ve killed my precious lamb!  You sons of bitches!”  The feathers on her head rose up like hackles.  I was reluctant to spend time discussing her possible complicity in the untimely massacre, so I shoved the old woman back inside the house.

Looking down I discovered a full bottle of untended whisky and an unclaimed carton of cigarettes laying for free on the hardwood floor.  I was hoping it was an omen my luck was about to change, when from behind us I heard a hiss I’d never heard before, but I didn’t need no one to tell me what it was.  The building shivered as the bombshell exploded on the target.  Windows blew out and shattered while the sound of splintering wood told me the roof was a memory.  It was a small round of fire, but it would only take three or four like it to flatten the place.  I escorted Ma up the hallway as quickly as I could, then we both broke for the stairs leading to her underground lair.

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