The Death Of Small Packet

      For some reason Trakker began to feel all Starship Troopers as they piled into the car. They turned left into what seemed like a small suburban pocket. The road split in two with houses on either side. The houses had been taken right out of The Stepford Wives. However, the ones through the middle looked like someone had opened up a box of matches and chucked the contents over a field. The balls had smashed their way through the central reservation destroying everything in their path.

 

      Everything seemed quiet until they heard the sound of cracking wood. Searching around, they saw the giant beetle climbing over the house towards them. It has small mandibles but long nasty looking horns on its head. “Aim for the head,” Trakker shouted.

      He got out of the car along with Small packet and began to aim and fire. The first few shots seemed ineffectual as the bug continued to pull its massive frame over the building. As it did so it exposed its less protected underbelly.

      He stepped onto the pristine lawn and aimed another shot at the bug’s throat. It hit home. The beetle’s second legs now clambered over the top and its mandibles reached down to the house’s porch. Small Packet let of another shot. The tip of a mandible exploded and fell into a rose bush.

      Small Packet began to fire wildly now as he rushed forwards shouting, “Junko ain’t gonna be your Ann Darrow!”

      Trakker saw the bug turning to him. “Get back!” He commanded as he took aim for the bug’s eye.

      Small Packet’s shots hit home. Some bored themselves into the bug’s flesh while others bounced off its steely exoskeleton. Trakker kept still, calmly aiming. As he squeezed the trigger the bug swept forwards off the house and impaled Small Packet on one of its horns. Trakker’s shot zipped through thin air. Its head reared up into the air tossing the rapper across the road.

      Jamal began to reverse the car away as the girls screamed inside. Trakker dove over the bushes and took aim again. This time the bug turned to face the car. He squeezed off a shot right into the bug’s eye. The creature staggered backwards as it lost control of its limbs. He fired again into the bugs head. He kept firing until his gun was just clicking through empty chambers. The bug collapsed onto the ground; its leg’s twitching.

      Trakker ran over to the car. Jo had calmed Junko down while Foxcroft sat biting her nails. Gama paced around outside the vehicle. “I’m sorry…” he muttered to himself.

      Trakker opened the door and put a hand on Jamal’s shoulder. “Are you ok?”

      Jamal shrugged him off. “You go alone from here. Go! Walk up the hill by yourself or with this lot,” he got out of the car. “I will find Small Packet.”

      By this time Foxcroft had got out of the car. “I am sorry about him. He died trying to save the girl he loved. More people will die if we don’t kill the beetles.”

      He was a fool, Trakker thought to himself; when he gave commands he expected them to be followed. He did not want to say it but it reminded him of why he did not want untrained people carrying guns around. They do stupid things. “I will avenge Small Packet. Can you find the bugs from here?”

      “Sure, we need to go to an office first to get the documents we need to expose Mega4, and then we can get the bugs.”

      He nodded and went to pull Jo out; Junko followed quietly. “Are you with me?”

      Jo looked distraught and held his camera limply. “Small Packet dying changes everything. It’s not a movie anymore.”

      Trakker reloaded his gun. “It never was.”