Mayberry Madness

 

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Mayberry Madness

Flash Fiction by Billy Ray Chitwood

In retrospect, it all sounds so improbable, like a tale out of some book of odd occurrences, but I had to tell the story because the world is what it is today. Unless you’ve had your head buried in a Nelson DeMille book or a Bruce Willis movie, you know ‘the times are changing’…lots of bad things are happening in the world, like Islamic terrorists spreading throughout the globe, recruiting on the internet, trying to take over the planet with their radical Jihad junk, cutting off heads, burning folks alive who don’t accept their idiocy…

Well, anyhow, I live on ten acres in Small Town, Virginia, USA, and I’m figuring that all this bad, evil, stuff cannot touch me and my family, that our government must have a plan to rid the earth of this vermin.

My good friend and neighbor, David, and I are sitting on the back porch with two ice-cold Coronas, looking out over the meadows at the grazing cows, sipping and talking about some story ideas for a book…

You see, I’m a writer, and David thinks I’m famous – it’s wrong, I know, but I let him continue thinking that thought. I mentioned to David that I’m always looking for story ideas, and this really pumps him up…he tells me about this ‘demon-oriented’ story he conjured up, a demon only the central character can see terrorizing the make-believe city.

“That sounds like a great idea for a book, David. Why don’t you write it?” I tell him.

“No, no, I’m not a writer,” he says, “but I sure would like you to write it.”

“We can collaborate and write it together, David…might be fun.”

“No, it would be great just to see the ideas come to life on the pages of a book…”

So David gives me a sense of the action scenes he perceives for the book. By now, the sun is just about to hit that western drop-off point, and David leaves. I’m about to go into the house and check in with Becky, my wife, when I see three guys at the end of my long driveway. Two of the strangers peel off into a copse of trees while the third one keeps walking up the drive toward me.

When he gets nearer I stand and walk off the porch toward the dark bewhiskered young man. He’s short and looks like a cross between an Amish and one of those Middle-East terrorists. He looks surly and his smell carries the ten feet to me.

“Did you not see the sign at the end of the driveway?” I ask.

“I saw it,” he says bluntly and offensively.

“And, you know what ‘PRIVATE DRIVE’ means?”

He just gives me an ugly yellow teeth smile. As I start to move closer, a gunshot pops in my ear and I go down to the ground. There is a sharp stinging pain on my right side where my fat has accumulated.

Looking up at the dark-bearded one, he is pulling a knife from his waistband. He has no gun, so from where did the gunshot come? The two men in the trees, I’m thinking, as the wound throbs intensify.

I try to get up, but the pain forces me back to the ground. My eyes are blurred but I see the stranger approaching me…my thoughts suddenly go to my wife inside the house. Is she hearing any of this, or, is she in the front part of the house where the sounds would be muffled to the point of unnoticeable…she’s also deaf in one ear.

The bearded one kneels, has a sadistic smile on his face, poised with a knife to inflict bodily damage. In the blur and pain I lift my arms in defense of the oncoming attack.

Another shot rings out! The bearded one collapses on top of me, and my hands collect his bloody head and shove him away. He is dead, and I am bewildered, near the swooning stage, trying to raise myself.

From the corner of the house, David runs to me, his automatic rifle at the ready. He looks toward the trees where the two other men disappeared.

“Charlie, you’re okay,” David says. “You’re losing blood but stay with me. The bullet hit no vital area… I’ve called 911 and I hear the sirens in the distance. An ambulance is on the way. The highway patrol will catch the other two guys. They know their location… Just hang on, Charlie…”

David bangs on the back door until my wife finally hears the pounding.

Then, Becky is hovering over me, her tears like raindrops falling on my head. “I’m fine, sweetheart,” I lied. “It’s not critical…”

What I definitely find most critical is the Islamic Terrorist World Jihad!

I survived my injury, and the three terrorists that invaded our peaceful ‘Mayberry’ community are now dead – the two in the trees preferred death and a virgin reward to the confines of Gitmo. They were victims of a deadly and radical world ideology, a predator intent on owning our minds and souls.

As I close my laptop, I cannot help but wonder what our world is to look like in the next fifty years. If a small heartland community like mine can be invaded by these denizens of destruction, what does it say to the sanity of our world leaders?

Billy Ray Chitwood – July 17, 2015

This week I’m promoting my Book 6 of ‘The Bailey Crane Mystery Series’ – A Common Evil. This book is actually inspired by an incident in Mexico at a resort where I lived for over three years – on the beautiful Sea of Cortez. It’s a novel that will blow you away with its action and dynamic ending… Hope you will grab a copy, read and enjoy… Happy if you leave an Amazon review… The other books in the series are easy and fun reads as well, some of them inspired by true events… GOOD READING!

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BUY SITES:

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Proud receiver of nine blog nominations!

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