Goddamn Zombies on a Shuttle!

Who: Eddie Monsoon (Priest for Hire)
Where: A shuttle above Mars
When: After Takeoff
Eddie had never been an easy flyer. If the Lord had intended man to
fly, he wouldn't have invented Richard Branson. So it was some small
wonder that Eddie wasn't going psychotically crazy at the thought
that absolutely anything could go wrong. The shields could fail and a
rock could come smashing through the craft's walls and suck him and
the rest of the passengers out into space. Or, even worse, they could
run out of whiskey.
Suddenly, there was a violent shake and the lights flickered. Eddie's
nerves were now shot to hell and he had gone a pale shade of white.
"This is the Captain speaking, we're experiencing some turbulence
(how can you get turbulence in a vacuum? Eddie was buggered if he
knew) and…." the intercom frazzled out, replaced by the crackle of
static. There was some fumbled sounds coming from the cockpit. It
sounded like a man having his head ripped apart and his organs being
eaten by a zombie. It was, in fact, a man having his head ripped off
and his organs being eaten by a zombie. Fortunately the plane
switched to Auto-Pilot immediately, so they didn't go hurtling into a
death-dive towards the red planet below, Mars had enough ugly
blemishes as it is. The zombie used it's own weight to break down the
cabin door and escape into the seating area.. Surprisingly, By the
time the zombies had shuffled their way down the passageway, most of
the passengers had moved into the escape pods in a calm, orderly
fashion. All except for Eddie that is.
Later, when the disaster was over, the Repair Crew would look on in
wonder at the sheer amount of damage done to the interior of the
craft. Aside from splatter marks of blood and gore, there were holes
that were clearly bullet entry wounds. All they knew was that the
only person aboard with a gun license, was one E.Monsoon, and he was
unaccounted for.
"Goddamn Zombies!" said Eddie, skilfully throwing an empty whiskey
bottle at a Zombie's head. He reached into the overhead compartment
and brought out the battered leather hold-all that he'd brought onto
the plane with him. The rest of his luggage was safely sealed in the
cargo hold, but luckily he knew one or two tricks to get things past
airport security. He unzipped the bag and took out a slender black
object as well as two smaller silver ones.
"Well gentlemen" he said, loading cartridges into his three guns "say
hello to my fully auto, under-and-over, read `em and weep H`n'K
Scattamatic Minigun, and the Twins" Fully loaded, he turned to the
nearest zombie and blew a fist sized hole through first his stomach,
and then his head.
"Eat this!" he cried, as one particularly clever Zombie tried to
attack him from behind, the gun shooting at the creature at point-
blanc range, sending it cart wheeling down the aisle. A few more
shots rang out from the shotgun, cleanly, efficiently and safely
(that one was the biggie) taking out a few zombies. Quickly stashing
his shotgun, he whipped out the twins and shot out an approaching
zombies kneecaps, resulting in the rather hilarious position of a
zombie crawling after him using his arms to pull himself along. Eddie
quickly disposed of a few more zombies, even going as far as using
the empty clips to spring out and hit them in the face, which gave a
Eddie a chuckle at their sheer stupidity.
"Will all passengers please fasten their seatbelts, we are
experiencing engine troubles. In the likely event of death please
follow the following safety protocol: Put your head between your legs
and kiss your arse goodbye. Thank You" chimed the auto-hostess
system, dropping Eddie into further shit. Knowing that he would have
to get off the ship pretty sharpish, he ducked into the last
remaining escape pod and sealed the hatch behind him. Then he opened
it, moved back into the cabin and picked out his hand luggage and
duty-free. Screw his luggage, no way was he going to dump the tax
free wine, tobacco & porn he'd bought.
The crash was spectacular. It lit up the Northern Mountain regions of
Mars like a Christmas Tree and left a crater a mile wide. A short
distance away, a charred escape pod was found with half a dozen
whiskey bottles, all empty and space suited footprints leading away.
Also, as was reported by one of the citizens in Mars-Dome, the
engines from the escape pod had sky written "EDDIE HAS A BIG DI…
<To Be Contuified>