Part NINE – continued from last week’s episode –

As he sprinted toward the chopper, she flung open the hatch and reached for his grasp. “C’mon let’s go!” she commanded.

The winds were hurling from the north casting ice pellets of snow in swirling directions around the whirlybird. Bitter cold temperatures made it difficult to breathe while running at an all-out pace.

Rusty lunged like a smallmouth bass trying to inhale a surface popper. With right arm extended his outstretched hand floundered for hers and missed. Instead, he found himself in touch with her right breasticle (size 34D).

As awkward and incapable as he seems at times… Sally still has a connection with Flathers.  And with that she grasped a whopping clod of hair from the top of his curly brown head and hoisted him on board.

Jumping to the command center they buckled in as she took the controls, lifted the aircraft vertically, and pointed its nose to the east. From the rear an explosion propelled them forward as a red ball flashed and then disappeared behind them fading with the setting sun.

On instruction…  Rusty had lit the shack, with the only saved remnants being the chip from his GoPro Camera, that was mounted in the top corner of the fish house.

They needed to get to a haven. Van Clutterbuck was deceased. Sally had a sore boob. Rusty was missing a patch of hair. There was plenty to sort out.

–To be continued –