HOME | DD

Description

“Soo. . . now what do we do?” asked Iggy as the applause from the gang began to die out.

Axl awkwardly chuckled as he retracted his arm. “Well, I guess it would be a good idea to organize our defenses.”

“Everyone needs to have an assigned role,” said Red with his hands resting on his hips in a commanding manner. He turned his gaze intently toward Axl. “Axl, the river surrounds most of the swamp, yes?”

Axl nodded his head. “Yeah. Mudlick River definitely poses a challenge for rat folk. The only easily accessible way is through the old stone bridge.”
“Then perhaps that would be the logical place for you to send most of your defenses,” said Red.

“We can set up some kind of cover and plant a large force of men there, with weapons,” added Axl with a nod, folding his arms. “We’ll have the high ground there, able to blast any rats who attempt to cross that narrow bridge.”

“What if they try crossing the river?” asked Rolf.

“That’s where us pirates come in,” said Red. “I just so happen to have brought a small wooden river boat that’s armed to the teeth like a battleship.” Red placed his claw on Scar Scales shoulder. “Scars and I can patrol up and down the entire river, keeping an eye out for any rats that try to get smart and cross into our swamp territory a different way.”

Scar Scales nodded his head. “Aye, but we be needin’ a couple of more men to use thee boat to it’s full potential.”

“Arrr, I will do it, me mateys!” excitingly exclaimed Junior attempting to mimic Scar Scale’s pirate dialect.

“No!” immediately protested Axl. “Junior, you need to stay here with your mother.”

“C’mon, dad!” protested Junior. “I’m old enough to be a pirate!”

“The final answer is NO, Junior!” repeated Axl, with more of a scolding voice.

Junior pleadfully stepped in front of Scar Scales. “Scar Scales, tell em’ I’m a pirate like you guys!”

Scar Scales chuckled nervously, as Axl gave him a stern glare, indicating there would be dire consequences were he to go against his word. Scar Scales walked over to Junior, ruffling his clawed hand through his frill. “Aye, lad. Ye be more of a pirate than I’ve ever seen, but ye best listen to yer father.”

            Junior disappointingly sighed drooping his shoulders. “Okayyy. . .”

            “We should lay some concrete barricades near the bridge for cover,” suggested Rolf. “From there we can blast the snot outta those creeps before they can make it halfway over.”

            “Not a bad idea,” agreed Brutus.

            Spike again burped, wiping his face with his arm. “Yeah. I know where I can get some of those.”

            “Do we have enough weapons for everyone?” asked Lonnie.

            “Leave that to me also,” slurred Spike.

            “What are you, Mr. Black Market or something?” scoffed Rolf.

            “Spike’s ex-military,” Axl replied.

            “Yep, yep,” Spike replied pointing at his chest. “Still got the scar to prove it.”

            “A fine scar, that is,” Scar Scales replied. “Ye should share it’s story sometime.”

            “Reptiles and guns. . .” snorted Rolf.

            “A recipe for disaster,” winked Slade nudging Axl in the chest.

            Axl smiled and flicked his tongue. “Sounds like we’ve got a pretty good start here. I say we get busy.”

            “You heard the man!” shouted Slade commandingly. “Let’s prepare for a war!”

*****

            Axl was standing with Rolf, Lonnie, and Slade scoping out the area as they waited for Spike to return with weapons. Soon enough, they saw his old green, rusty pickup truck rolling down the dirt road with a caterpillar following from behind carrying several large concrete barricades in it’s lift. Spike waited for the caterpillar to pull up beside him as he prepared to speak to the green scaled overall wearing crocodile operating the machine.

            “I want some straight and some at an angle,” shouted Spike from his pickup truck. “The main thing is, we make sure we have fire comin’ from all sides so the rats have no single area to concentrate their fire!”

            “Alrighty!” replied the croc with a nod.

            Spike proceeded to drive over toward Axl and his friends, parking alongside them, Axl’s jaw dropped open at the sight of bullets, ammunition, grenades and many other tools of destruction leftover from his lizard friend’s ‘military heyday.’

            “Whoa. . .” mused Slade. “Your friend is like one of those black market weapons guys in the movies.”

            Axl laughed, folding his arms as he watched his friend hop out of his truck.

            Spike slapped his hand against the steel body of the vehicle. “I’ve brought all kinds of goodies to greet our rat buddies when they get here.” The truck bed door squealed as Spike lowered it revealing the piles of weapons. “Machine gun,” said Spike, tossing the heavy weapon toward Slade.

            “Whoa!” cried Slade nearly tumbling to the ground from the weight of the weapon.

            “M4 Carbine!” exclaimed Spike tossing it to Axl.

            Axl immediately gripped it, pretending to aim it at some unseen object in the woods. Although he never spent any time in the military himself, Spike had on many occasions drove the two of them out in the middle of nowhere to show off his incredible display of weapons. The M4 Carbine is the one in particular he enjoyed using to fire at the bottles and cans the two of them would line up as targets. It was an activity which brought him back to being a kid with Spike when they would roam the woods pretending to be action heroes armed with their trusty pellet guns and sling shots.

            Spike grinned at Lonnie who continued to stand, flabbergasted by Spike’s collection of weapons. “Beretta M9!” said Spike tossing a pistol into Lonnie’s paws.

            “Yikes!” shouted Lonnie, juggling with the gun until letting it drop on the ground.

            “Now let’s see what I have for you, Mister Rolf,” said Spike digging through his box of weapons.

            “Nothing too complicated,” Rolf replied. “I’m only experienced with hunting rifles and some hand guns.”

            “Well then, how about an ACR?” said tossing Spike tossing a weapon to Rolf, that hardly resembled the hunting rifles from his past.

            “This thing’s a rifle?” scoffed Rolf nervously eying his weapon.

            “I’ve never had to use one of these before either,” said Lonnie still fidgeting with his Beretta M9 pistol.

            “Well scaredy cat, let me show you,” said Rolf. “This is a semi-automatic, buster, so all you’ve gotta do is aim and pull the trigger until you need to reload. The bullet will do the rest, so long as you make sure to keep your gun loaded.”

            “If you say so,” sighed Lonnie setting down the pistol onto the side of the truck. Leaning against the vehicle, he then looked quizzically at Rolf. “You know I never knew you were into hunting?”

            Rolf shrugged his shoulders. “Meh. It’s OK, I guess. My father used to take me to his hunting lodge as a boy with his other rich friends. He had quite the rifle collection. He even had his own private target practice field he use to take me to, back in the day.” Rolf chuckled as he began reminiscing over his memories. “Titus would stay so busy those days changing out all of our targets. We really kept that tortoise on his toes. ‘Titus, bring me my tea! My cartridges, Titus!’ I always felt so sorry for that guy.”

            “I see,” said Lonnie, his eyes trailing back to the gun on the side of the truck bed. “I sure hope I don’t actually have to hurt somebody with this.”

            “Are you kidding me?” scoffed Rolf with a growl. “Do you think these guys are worried about ‘not hurting us? Stop bein such a sissy!”

            “I’m not a sissy!” retorted Lonnie. “I just don’t like hurting people with weapons, that’s all.”

            “I’m not keen on hurting anyone either, Lon,” said Axl. “But if you have a better idea on how to deal with these rats, I’m all ears.”

            Lonnie sighed. “Noo. . .”

            “I can’t believe your buddy Spike has so many weapons, sir!” said Slade. “ Axl laughed. “Yeah, and I’m pretty sure most of Spike’s weapons aren’t even legal so I’d keep my mouth shut about it.”

            Slade nodded his head. “Will do, sir.”

Illustration by Randomthewolfskie

Thanks for reading!

Nightriders: Revenge of the Sewer Rats Part 9

Nightriders: Revenge of the Sewer Rats Part 1

Description

“Soo. . . now what do we do?” asked Iggy as the applause from the gang began to die out.

Axl awkwardly chuckled as he retracted his arm. “Well, I guess it would be a good idea to organize our defenses.”

“Everyone needs to have an assigned role,” said Red with his hands resting on his hips in a commanding manner. He turned his gaze intently toward Axl. “Axl, the river surrounds most of the swamp, yes?”

Axl nodded his head. “Yeah. Mudlick River definitely poses a challenge for rat folk. The only easily accessible way is through the old stone bridge.”
“Then perhaps that would be the logical place for you to send most of your defenses,” said Red.

“We can set up some kind of cover and plant a large force of men there, with weapons,” added Axl with a nod, folding his arms. “We’ll have the high ground there, able to blast any rats who attempt to cross that narrow bridge.”

“What if they try crossing the river?” asked Rolf.

“That’s where us pirates come in,” said Red. “I just so happen to have brought a small wooden river boat that’s armed to the teeth like a battleship.” Red placed his claw on Scar Scales shoulder. “Scars and I can patrol up and down the entire river, keeping an eye out for any rats that try to get smart and cross into our swamp territory a different way.”

Scar Scales nodded his head. “Aye, but we be needin’ a couple of more men to use thee boat to it’s full potential.”

“Arrr, I will do it, me mateys!” excitingly exclaimed Junior attempting to mimic Scar Scale’s pirate dialect.

“No!” immediately protested Axl. “Junior, you need to stay here with your mother.”

“C’mon, dad!” protested Junior. “I’m old enough to be a pirate!”

“The final answer is NO, Junior!” repeated Axl, with more of a scolding voice.

Junior pleadfully stepped in front of Scar Scales. “Scar Scales, tell em’ I’m a pirate like you guys!”

Scar Scales chuckled nervously, as Axl gave him a stern glare, indicating there would be dire consequences were he to go against his word. Scar Scales walked over to Junior, ruffling his clawed hand through his frill. “Aye, lad. Ye be more of a pirate than I’ve ever seen, but ye best listen to yer father.”

            Junior disappointingly sighed drooping his shoulders. “Okayyy. . .”

            “We should lay some concrete barricades near the bridge for cover,” suggested Rolf. “From there we can blast the snot outta those creeps before they can make it halfway over.”

            “Not a bad idea,” agreed Brutus.

            Spike again burped, wiping his face with his arm. “Yeah. I know where I can get some of those.”

            “Do we have enough weapons for everyone?” asked Lonnie.

            “Leave that to me also,” slurred Spike.

            “What are you, Mr. Black Market or something?” scoffed Rolf.

            “Spike’s ex-military,” Axl replied.

            “Yep, yep,” Spike replied pointing at his chest. “Still got the scar to prove it.”

            “A fine scar, that is,” Scar Scales replied. “Ye should share it’s story sometime.”

            “Reptiles and guns. . .” snorted Rolf.

            “A recipe for disaster,” winked Slade nudging Axl in the chest.

            Axl smiled and flicked his tongue. “Sounds like we’ve got a pretty good start here. I say we get busy.”

            “You heard the man!” shouted Slade commandingly. “Let’s prepare for a war!”

*****

            Axl was standing with Rolf, Lonnie, and Slade scoping out the area as they waited for Spike to return with weapons. Soon enough, they saw his old green, rusty pickup truck rolling down the dirt road with a caterpillar following from behind carrying several large concrete barricades in it’s lift. Spike waited for the caterpillar to pull up beside him as he prepared to speak to the green scaled overall wearing crocodile operating the machine.

            “I want some straight and some at an angle,” shouted Spike from his pickup truck. “The main thing is, we make sure we have fire comin’ from all sides so the rats have no single area to concentrate their fire!”

            “Alrighty!” replied the croc with a nod.

            Spike proceeded to drive over toward Axl and his friends, parking alongside them, Axl’s jaw dropped open at the sight of bullets, ammunition, grenades and many other tools of destruction leftover from his lizard friend’s ‘military heyday.’

            “Whoa. . .” mused Slade. “Your friend is like one of those black market weapons guys in the movies.”

            Axl laughed, folding his arms as he watched his friend hop out of his truck.

            Spike slapped his hand against the steel body of the vehicle. “I’ve brought all kinds of goodies to greet our rat buddies when they get here.” The truck bed door squealed as Spike lowered it revealing the piles of weapons. “Machine gun,” said Spike, tossing the heavy weapon toward Slade.

            “Whoa!” cried Slade nearly tumbling to the ground from the weight of the weapon.

            “M4 Carbine!” exclaimed Spike tossing it to Axl.

            Axl immediately gripped it, pretending to aim it at some unseen object in the woods. Although he never spent any time in the military himself, Spike had on many occasions drove the two of them out in the middle of nowhere to show off his incredible display of weapons. The M4 Carbine is the one in particular he enjoyed using to fire at the bottles and cans the two of them would line up as targets. It was an activity which brought him back to being a kid with Spike when they would roam the woods pretending to be action heroes armed with their trusty pellet guns and sling shots.

            Spike grinned at Lonnie who continued to stand, flabbergasted by Spike’s collection of weapons. “Beretta M9!” said Spike tossing a pistol into Lonnie’s paws.

            “Yikes!” shouted Lonnie, juggling with the gun until letting it drop on the ground.

            “Now let’s see what I have for you, Mister Rolf,” said Spike digging through his box of weapons.

            “Nothing too complicated,” Rolf replied. “I’m only experienced with hunting rifles and some hand guns.”

            “Well then, how about an ACR?” said tossing Spike tossing a weapon to Rolf, that hardly resembled the hunting rifles from his past.

            “This thing’s a rifle?” scoffed Rolf nervously eying his weapon.

            “I’ve never had to use one of these before either,” said Lonnie still fidgeting with his Beretta M9 pistol.

            “Well scaredy cat, let me show you,” said Rolf. “This is a semi-automatic, buster, so all you’ve gotta do is aim and pull the trigger until you need to reload. The bullet will do the rest, so long as you make sure to keep your gun loaded.”

            “If you say so,” sighed Lonnie setting down the pistol onto the side of the truck. Leaning against the vehicle, he then looked quizzically at Rolf. “You know I never knew you were into hunting?”

            Rolf shrugged his shoulders. “Meh. It’s OK, I guess. My father used to take me to his hunting lodge as a boy with his other rich friends. He had quite the rifle collection. He even had his own private target practice field he use to take me to, back in the day.” Rolf chuckled as he began reminiscing over his memories. “Titus would stay so busy those days changing out all of our targets. We really kept that tortoise on his toes. ‘Titus, bring me my tea! My cartridges, Titus!’ I always felt so sorry for that guy.”

            “I see,” said Lonnie, his eyes trailing back to the gun on the side of the truck bed. “I sure hope I don’t actually have to hurt somebody with this.”

            “Are you kidding me?” scoffed Rolf with a growl. “Do you think these guys are worried about ‘not hurting us? Stop bein such a sissy!”

            “I’m not a sissy!” retorted Lonnie. “I just don’t like hurting people with weapons, that’s all.”

            “I’m not keen on hurting anyone either, Lon,” said Axl. “But if you have a better idea on how to deal with these rats, I’m all ears.”

            Lonnie sighed. “Noo. . .”

            “I can’t believe your buddy Spike has so many weapons, sir!” said Slade. “ Axl laughed. “Yeah, and I’m pretty sure most of Spike’s weapons aren’t even legal so I’d keep my mouth shut about it.”

            Slade nodded his head. “Will do, sir.”

Illustration by Randomthewolfskie

Thanks for reading!

Nightriders: Revenge of the Sewer Rats Part 9

Nightriders: Revenge of the Sewer Rats Part 1