3/15/2k5: The Mexican Assignment - Part II

Drew Parazinski found himself looking down the barrel of an American made death dispenser. Before he left home Baxter Black had said “I bet you’re going to die.” It looked like Drew Parazinski stood to loose a lot of money. The gun wavered and lowered. The goateed man slumped over, a sharpened cell phone protruding from his temple.
“Zach!” exclaimed Drew. The driver looked back to see what was going on and why he hadn’t heard a gunshot yet, thinking that maybe it was a very quite gun, or maybe it was a gun that made a “Zach!” sound. Somewhere in the very back of his mind he was thinking that maybe possibly something had gone wrong. However turning around, to see what had happened, was the worst idea the man ever had, because you should never take your eyes off the road. Driving is a huge responsibility and you always have to go about it like a clear headed professional. Did you know that 1068000 people die every year from a little thing we call vehicular homicide? Well now you know and knowing doesn’t have any graphable correlation with the battle.
The bus careened into a tree stump. The driver was impaled on the steering column and his head flew through the windshield and splattered like a ripe melon on the pavement. Later the police would take a picture of the scene and it would be used in educational video for teens about the dangers of driving. A kid who claimed to be “hardkore” would watch it and say “cool” his idiot friend would snicker and that is why you keep your eyes on the goddamn road! Drew Parazinski executed an elegant leap and roll, landing safely on a pile of mattresses.
Zachary “Carvin’” Kervin emerged  from behind the Mattress Discounter’s supply truck he’d asked real nicely to use for a little while. Drew and Zach exchanged a secret handshake neither had ever practiced and quickly got each other up to speed.
“I’m here to save the world from something, I think. And I was thinking of possibly buying cigarettes in bulk and selling them in the US at competitive rates.” Explained Drew
“I’ve been learning a lot about Orozco’s fresco paintings. Did you know that Orozco almost single handedly jumpstarted the Mexican mural renaissance and that one of his most famous wall paintings is viewable not to far from Blue springs at Dartmouth College?” Thoughtfully narrated Zachary Kervin.
Not really interested in stupid art stuff Drew replied. “Hey that’s cool, but I was kind of wondering what happened to that zombie dinosaur you set off to kill?”
“Alice Thompson rammed a truck into it, which enabled me to climb inside and eventually take it down.  I came back to find her, but she was gone.”
Clenching his fists, teeth, and ankles Drew hissed “Mr. Nighttime must’ve got her.”
“Oh yeah he defiantly did. The lady in the pupusa place there saw him take her away. They deliver to him all the time and she gave me detailed instruction on how to get to his hideout after I agreed to buy a lunch special with my choice of a 24oz soft drink.” Said Zach.
Surprised at how conveniently things seem to work out for us some times Drew was a bit flabbergasted. “What really? That’s great!”
“Yeah I know. They’re tostadas are awesome.” Replied Zach without a hint of sarcasm.
“So, did you go rescue Alice Thompson?” Inquired Drew.
“Well, I dunno. It’s bit awkward we kind of used to date?”
“Really?” Drew being a bit baffled because workplace relationships are strictly forbidden and punishable by Gulag.
“Yeah, we internet dated. It was weird. I dunno man, it was the 90s.”

MEANWHILE IN AN AZTEC BURIAL CHAMBER

After a week’s time of holding Alice Thompson hostage Mr. Nighttime was beginning to understand the old saying “Hell hath no furry like a woman scorned.” Mr. Nighttime decided he needed to take a break from the constant verbal assault he was receiving from a rather pissed off Alice Thompson. He stepped out of the holding chamber to talk to his business partner Col. Kilstryke and drink up a tall glass of apple juice.
            The Colonel couldn’t contain himself. “Why’d you bring her here? What possible use could she have to us other than to mess everything up?”
            There was a pause while Mr. Nighttime swallowed his juice. “Jim Rage’s Elite Zombie Hunting Squad will come looking for her.”
            “Why is that a good thing? That’s the opposite of what we need. Look, my department’s broke and we need those zombie wetbacks ready for the new boarder safety initiative by this summer or my goose is cooked. What is it with this Jim Rage fellow anyways? Can’t you just let it go?” Bereaved Kilstryke.
            “My psycho analyst says I need to take chances.”
            “Take chances? You’re raising undead Aztec warriors for a highly controversial border patrol system that will probably cause international outcry, and mass hysteria! I don’t think you have to worry about living boldly.” Mr. Nighttime did not respond.
            “You’re all a bunch of dicks!” Yelled Alice Thompson from the next room who’d apparently been overhearing everything.
            Col. Kilstryke removed his handkerchief and dabbed his forehead. “You sure they’re coming to get her? It’s been about a week and it’s rock bottom investigational work to figure out where we are. It’s not like you need to hire Nancy Drew to locate a highly suspect United States operation in an Aztec temple. Could you just do me a favor and kill her?”
            Mr. Nighttime looked up disgusted. “I don’t want to kill her.”
            “Why not? You kill people all the time!”
            “I’m not a sadist though. I don’t go around executing people and enjoying it.” Said Mr. Nighttime with a hint of sass.
            “What are you talking about, enjoying it? Whose enjoying any of this? Jesus! Would you stop drinking apple juice!” At that moment a bulldozer careened through the wall. Atop it rode Drew and Zach.
            Col Kilstryke bemoaned a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God, I thought I was going to kill myself if something didn’t happen soon.”
            “The game is over!” Snarled Drew Parazinski as he inched the bulldozer closer and closer. Release my associate or I’ll smash you to a pulp with this bulldozer I borrowed.”
            Mr. Nighttime stood up casually holding an emerald skull. “Oh no, my dear sir. The game isn’t over. It’s only just begun.”
            Col. Kilstryke rolled his eyes while simultaneously slipping on some brace knuckles.

Will our heroes survive? Probably. Find out how next time.