Life is like a White Castle double-cheeseburger: meaty, delicious, and satisfying. Just don't think about the sodium, fat, and cholesterol – Gravity Dog doesn't. Chapter Sixteen adds fries and a cola, making sure the conclusion to "We March on Arkansas" delivers everything you wanted from fast food, and more.
The next part is hard to describe. It was all about bright light followed by darkness; deafening sound followed by silence. I did not feel tired, nor was there any pain. My beautiful mother appeared in the darkness, gazing at me over the squirming pile of bodies that would have been my nursing siblings.
“You made me very proud today,” she said, and I thought I would melt into her deep brown eyes. She was so lovely—her sleek coat shone like moist dog food.
“Proud?” I said, “How could you be proud of me? I failed my mission. I lost the war.”
I was sad, but like I said, there was no pain.
“You won by going back.” She faded and blurred, and her perfect form was replaced by the angular shape of Colonel Orion. I did not even try to snap to attention.
“12-249CAU-7836-K9, you have failed. You did not achieve your objective,” he said, squinting his hard little eyes at me. “I would have detonated you, but I could not locate the button. I am going to use both hands and a flashlight to find it, and then you’ll see what happens. Dismissed!”
If I had been capable of insubordination at this point, I would have bitten one of his tough old legs, but I let it pass. He faded away like my mother. I had to figure out how to get her back. Slowly, another face revealed itself to me. It was Jonny Cosmic. He was filthy with mud, blood-streaked, and spattered with chunks of exploded zombie.
“Gravity Dog! Wake up!” he shook me roughly, and I felt pain again. “Get up! We gotta go, this whole place is starting to blow!” He was really being a pain in the ass.
“Don’t shout,” I growled. “Go away. Talking to Mother.”
The fuzzy, cottony silence in my head lifted like a curtain, and chaos surrounded us. I watched in dim amazement as zombies bumped into each other, walked directly into the flaming wreckage of battle, or randomly fell to the ground. I didn’t understand, and my side really hurt.
“We did it, Dog. You drew them off, and I launched my missile right down the shaft. We won!” Jonny was crying now, something humans did that always made me uncomfortable. It was just kind of creepy and disgusting, the way water came out of the corners of their eyes. The tears left streaks down Jonny’s face and he smiled at me, gently rubbing my neck.
I looked up at him, grinning my own toothy canine grin. The war was over, the United State was saved, and Jonny could get his walking papers. It looked like I was out of a job, too. I licked the mud, blood, and tears from my friend’s face. I was fortunate—my body armor had deflected most of the plasma bullet’s impact. Lucky dog.
Jonny lifted me up from the drying mud and began to carry me away from the carnage. The sun eased itself above the horizon, revealing a scene of devastation and hope. It was a bad day for Arkansas, but very nice indeed for the rest of the world.
“Come on,” he said, cradling me in his arms, “let’s get to the extraction coordinates. We’re going home, buddy.”
I wagged my tail a tiny bit. I knew I would be strong again.
“Good dog,” Jonny said, walking to meet the jetchopper.
The End
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