Chapter 4:The Infestation

By  Dave G.

It was a bright, sunny afternoon, and Dave lay stretched out beneath a
large oak tree. A bird chirped melodically, the sound of a gentle
stream drifted through the forest trail. Dave drowsed peacefully,
having sex dreams involving the entire female cast of Final Fantasy 7.

Suddenly, a flock of birds flew down the natural corridor formed by
the two hills which bordered the stream. Dave sat up, shaking his
head to clear the sleep. Something had to be coming down the trail to
scare the birds like that.

He got to his feet and waited. After all, there was no reason to fear
the newcomers. They were probably just some fellow AGFFers, looking
for a discussion on something or another.

Or were they?

A sense of growing anxiety was building in Dave as he heard the
rhythmic sound of marching feet heading down the trail. There was no
organization in AGFF which marched. Most of them either sauntered or
teleported.

At the last second, Dave decided that he might not want to meet these
newcomers, and slipped silently behind a large tree trunk and waited
for the marchers to pass.

Dave did not wait long. Like a great segmented snake, ranks of people
filed mindlessly by, all of them in perfect step with the next. Their
faces were nondescript at this distance, so Dave slowly crept to a
nearer tree to observe the passing of the marchers.

Getting a good look, he drew in a sharp breath, horrified. They were
all Relm.

Dave could almost feel the fooeyness radiating off of them.

His first instinct was to pull out his revolver, the Phantom Slaughterer,
and deal with the Relms in the easiest fashion, but as hundreds of
them filed past, Dave saw that he would run out of ammo in both his
gun and cartridge belt before he had taken them all down.

"This is a fascinating development," Dave thought to himself as even
more Relms walked mechanically past.

Finally, after counting an even five hundred clones, a man dressed in
a dark suit which contrasted with his white lab coat walked by. He was
not in step, and showed no real interest in being so.

He carried a small palmtop computer, and was intently monitoring
several charts on its screen.

Dave was perplexed, and thought he might try an experiment to find out
the nature of the Relms.

He hurried to the head of the procession again, sneaking behind trees.
He tossed a small pebble at one of the Relms, which struck her behind
her ear. She didn't show any sign of having noticed. Dave repeated
this experiment twice more, with identical results.

"Hmm..." he thought, "They aren't too bright."

He hurried ahead of the caravan and strung a wire across the trail,
about two feet off the ground. Then, Dave climbed a tree overlooking
his trap.

Dave didn't have to wait long before the troop once again rounded the
corner.

Closer and closer they came to the wire, showing no signs of seeing
it.

The first rank tripped and fell over the trap, and were quickly followed
by the second. A few moments later, the third and fourth ranks dropped
atop the first and second. Within a minute, nearly 70 Relm Clones lay
prone on the ground.

Then the rest of them stopped.

Dave drew the Phantom Slaughterer, ready for whatever might happen. The
man in the lab coat walked to the front of the troop, muttering angrily.
When he saw the trip wire, he pulled out a small device.

"Shit," thought Dave, "thermal sensor."

The suit drew out a small piece, probably a PPK. Dave checked his
revolver, and found all was well.

The suit's eyes remained fixed on the thermal sensor as he walked
slowly toward the tree in which Dave was perched.

He stopped, and looked up. Looking down into the man's face, Dave
leveled his gun to the area of the man's face which would have a
sizable chunk of brain behind it.

"Who're you?" was Dave's challenge.

It was answered with the profound language of gunfire.

Dave flinched as the bullet bit into his cheek, cauterizing the wound
instantly by its heat. Not deep, but painful as hell. Dave fanned
the hammer of his piece lightly, each time squeezing a round off that
bit into the suit's head. Dave stopped firing when the man hit the
ground.

Suddenly, the Relm Clones sprang back to life, each of them producing
small knives from somewhere in their clothing.

Dave quickly reloaded and hopped out of the tree, on the opposite side
of the Clones.

He ran into the forest, with the clones pursuing him at an unholy rate
of speed. His revolver was effective enough on them, but he knew that
he only had 44 shells in his belt, and that there were still over 400
Relms chasing him.

The situation was dire.

Dave downed six more clones, and reloaded on the run.

He knew from memory that a rather peculiar geological formation was
around the next corner. Dave hoped that the clones had less balls
than he, because he was certainly dead if they had more.

A sheer precipice had been carved out of the living rock from eons of
water and wind erosion. In the bottom of this huge crevice in the
surface of AGFF, there was a mighty river. It had flowed since the
beginning of time, and was the main water system on the planet.

Dave ran to the edge of this chasm and looked down to the glassy water
beneath. The drop was over 300 feet. He stood at the edge, waiting for
the clones.

They covered the distance in small time, and were nearly upon Dave,
even as he mowed them down rapidly, leaving piles of dead upon the
grass.

Finally, Dave holstered his revolver, and leaped into the gorge, hoping
like hell he wouldn't bellyflop and kill himself on the landing. He
also hoped to Bob that the Relms didn't like long drop-offs.

He seemed to fall for an eternity, nearly hypnotized by the surface of
the water beneath him. Finally, he hit and was plunged into the warm
river. Dave surfaced a moment later, and spit out an amount of dirty
water.

He was relieved to see the clones hadn't followed.

"Well, fuck," he declared, "I can tell this is going to get worse
before it gets better."