Was it fate when that meatball rolled off your plate and onto the floor? Destiny? A predetermined incident triggering a sequence of events—the ultimate conclusion years away and of profound impact? Gravity Dog thinks you're just not eating fast enough. Chapter Fourteen will do little to explain:
I was a ticking time bomb. No, I don’t mean all the pent-up emotion—I mean, an incredibly powerful yet compact high-explosive device had been implanted inside me. My download had revealed that the mission’s success pivoted on getting close enough to the zombie generator to fire our weapons, or failing that, for Jonny to detonate my device. If Jonny was unable to do it, then Colonel Orion was electronically monitoring our progress back at the base, his finger poised over the red button that could remotely detonate the bomb inside me. Regardless of who pushed the button, the expected outcome had affected my motivation.
There was no way to guess what Jonny thought he was going to do on his own. I was the one who bore the sophisticated electronic systems, as well as the massed firepower equal to that of a prehistoric battle tank. What could one human achieve? Worse yet, a human who had confessed his lack of commitment to the art and philosophy of war. All he wanted to do was go home. Home. What was that? It was hard to comprehend why humans felt such stubborn attachment to places and things. Objects, structures, aircars, TV screens—it did not make sense. It was far better to run free like a dog. To smell the world’s smells, chase the world’s cats, and poop almost anywhere you desired.
I knew what I had to do. I faced an opportunity to connect with my deepest dog desires. A crossroads, if you will, to choose the path leading to a destiny of fulfillment and satisfaction. I sprang up from the marshy gravesite of my fallen brothers, and trotted into the night to find my new independent canine destiny.
So what, if that direction was the same as the way to the zombie power generating station.
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