And it's still July 14th 1947

   Okay, back in the truck. We stopped in at a place called Pat’s Diner, in Ottawa, a small Mississippi town, Champ had a good pee, and I had a quick bite.

  Good food, lousy coffee.

   We are about to go through the Mississippi, Alabama border. I'm going to have to start driving soon. This will be my last chance to write, till after we board the ship in Florida.

   Okay, this time no interruptions. I'm going to bring everything up to date.

   After the meeting was adjourned, I decided to mill about, and see some fellas I hadn't talked to for awhile. I chewed the fat with old pals like Reebo Anderson, Slasher Atwood, Pickles Prentice, and Feckless Fletcher. Great guys, all of them!

  While I was yacking, I could see out of the corner of my eye, Durant yelling at Tully Garvin. I couldn't hear what was being said, but I knew Durant was frustrated, at Tully.

   Tully seemed to be ignoring him, and just stared at the floor, as he smoked, and sipped from his coffee cup. Tully's face seemed to be filled with nothing but despair. It chills me to the bone to think of something that could put a guy like him, in to a state of mind like that. I wonder what happened to him. No I don’t! Yes I do.

   In the old days, if Durant had yelled at Tully that way, they'd be throwing down! Tully just kept looking at the floor.

  I know from several sources, that Tully was adopted. When he started making big bucks, he hired someone to find out who his real parents were, and learned that he was a bastard. (Jeez! we all knew that all along) His mother was some British guy's mistress, and she had been living with him in Merry old England, but a couple of months before Tully was born, she hoofed it back to California, where she was from.

   Soon after his birth, Tully's old lady, gave him up for adoption, and he was taken in by the Garvins. He used to laugh about it, saying "Who cares, I'll make more bastards than my old man, whoever he was, ever dreamed of!".

  That's why it was so creepy to see Tully so forlorn. I thought nothing fazed that guy.

   Well, I don't want to think about that anymore, whatever happened to Tully, he probably had it coming.

   So as I said, I was goofing off, jawing with old friends, drinking coffee, chain smoking. The hours flew by.

   Bay City Bottems, and his crew left, then later Tully and his team took off.

  Durant apparently decided he didn't want to ride with Tully, so he opted to travel with Horseshoe, Prof. Sanders and the other big wigs, in Horseshoe's Daimler, which would leave around the same time as us.

   It was getting kinda quiet, around 8:30 or so I looked up through the big sky light window, and noticed it was real dark. I figured it was time to start getting ready to leave.

   I was about to go round up Champ, Gooter and Muggy and the rest of our team, when my stomach started complaining. I asked Katya where the toilet was, (Meg would be real sore at me if she knew I used the word 'toilet' around a dame.) and she led me through a maze of corridors, showed me where it was, and she went back to the meeting room.

   As far as rest rooms go, this was a nice one. I sat down and made myself comfortable, there was a stack of E.C. funny books on a stand next to the toilet. Tales from the Crypt, Two Fisted Tales and Tales from the Tomb! This broad had great taste! I settled in for a good read.

   I was almost through my fourth funny book, when I heard a ruckus from down the hall.

   "Oh jeez! What now?" I thought. I finished up my business, and vacated the rest room.

  I was about halfway to the meeting room, when I started hearing gun shots! I started running, and when I got near the entrance I noticed a lot of thick billowy smoke. But it wasn't smoke, it was a fog, a grey fog! I'm not the smartest lug, in the world, but I figured it out pretty quick.

  I could not even see in to the meeting room, the fog was so thick! I just heard a lot of shouting, and gun's going off, so I reached for my own piece.

  I could make out dim figures, but I couldn't tell whosit from whatsit! I figured the best thing to do would be to charge on through, till I could reach a spot where I could see something. I took a deep breath and did it!

   I bumped into someone as I was running. Of course I couldn't see the person to well, all I could make out was a figure in a grey Trench coat, and grey fedora. And, this is where it gets strange, this person wore a white porcelain mask, that covered the whole face. And this is where it gets stranger, when I bumped into this figure I noticed, it was unmistakably a woman.

   I just kept running, with my pistol held out in front of me, bumping into several more people, amidst all the chaos, and what not, 'til I reached thegang on the other side of the fog.

   I was finally able to figure out the situation. Our mob was fighting away, with a bunch of masked vigilante types, and having a difficult time with it, what with all the thick fog, and get this, they were WOMEN!

   I saw Sour-pus Folmer and Watty McClanahan getting the tar whooped out of them by some gal, wearing what looked like black pajamas, and a black domino mask. She was using those Chinese type fighting skills.

   Sneaky boots Nelson, Fish Face Edwards and Do-hickey Dossett, were getting trashed by a woman laughing, dancing around with a fencing foil, that seemed to give off an electric shock. She was wearing all black as well, and again with the domino mask!

   Freshy Wilson and Sewer breath Colloms were getting done in by a little short woman, also in black with a mask, who didn't seem to need a gimmick, she just blew them away with her 45's.

   A gang of masked, vigilante, WOMEN! Who would've thought!

   Then their leader stepped out of the fog. It was as I guessed, The Grey Fog!

   Boy, did I have that whole magila pegged wrong! I started to fire at her, but she seemed to move in a way, that my bullets missed her completely! I noticed Durant was firing away too, but he was missing every shot.

   He was smiling in a funny way, that sent shivers up my spine.

   I looked around for Horseshoe, and I found him, lying in a pool of his own blood. Gooter and Muggy seemed to be shooting at random, and laughing like goons.

   Okay, it was time to get out of there, and I new what my priorities were.

   I checked on Horseshoe, dead as dead can be, so I started pushing Prof. Sanders towards the secret panel, knowing Durant and the others could fend for them selves.

  I heard a horrifying scream, and saw Gooter falling towards the floor.

   "Muggy, lets high tail it!" I yelled, but Muggy just stood there staring at Gooter's still body.

   I opened the secret panel, and told Prof. Sanders, to get to the Daimler.

  Durant and the few left that weren't dead, unconscious or still being thrashed around by those devil women, followed Sanders down the stairs.

   Before he stepped out, I noticed Durant turn around one last time and look at Horseshoe and Gooter's bodies, and smile a wicked smile like you
wouldn't believe.

   As Champ was passing me I told him to go start the truck, and that I would join him as soon as possible. He nodded and left. I ran over to Muggy, and grabbed him by the arm,

   "Lets go, Muggy!" I screamed at him. He wouldn't budge, he just kept staring down at Gooter's body, with no feeling on his face what so ever. I knelt down, and grabbed Gooter's wrist.

  "See Muggy!" I yelled, "No pulse, he's dead, we gotta leave him, come on lets go!" No good, he wouldn't move. I had to do, what I had to do, so I slugged him right across his ugly puss, and he crumpled in my arms. I flung him across, my back, in a fireman's carry, and headed towards the exit. I looked behind me one more time, and saw so many of the gang, down for the count, or still struggling with those viscous broads!

   I caught one last glimpse of the Grey Fog, she stood there, motionless, occasionally, turning her head from side to side, overseeing her crew's handiwork.

   At one point I thought she might have looked at me, but I couldn't be sure, what with that spooky doll like, mask she wore. Her eyes seemed to be empty sockets, hiding just under the brim of her fedora.

   With Muggy, still over my shoulder, I amscrayed! I made it down the stairs, and to the back entrance of the building, then outside to the truck. Champ was in the driver's seat ready to go. I noticed the Daimler with Durant and the rest, was long gone.

   I was stuffing Muggy into the passenger seat, of the truck, when I heard a blood curdling war cry.

   I looked up, and saw crouched on a ledge, just one story up on the Golden Sphere map building, one of the strangest looking cusses my eyes have ever beheld. It was a savage looking, white guy, with long hair, wearing only trousers, and get this, war paint, like a redskin, or an African tribesman might wear.

   He had a great big knife in his hand, and was looking at me like I was dinner. He was about to pounce, I could tell. Then to make matters worse, The Grey Fog's masked lady crew were emerging from the entrance, that I had just come through.

   "Start driving Champ!" I yelled at the top of my lungs "I'll cover us!"

   The truck started moving, and I jumped on the back bumper, holding on to the truck with one hand, pistol in the other, firing at the masked women.

   The long haired, war paint guy, leaped from the ledge, on to the top of the truck.

   I noticed that standing on the ledge, where the Long haired galoot had been crouched, was the Grey Fog herself, still motionless, surrounded by wisps of swirling grey mist. She seemed to be directing the whole horrible scene.

   I fired a couple shots at her and her gang, then climbed up the back of the moving truck, to face the wild goon that was waiting for me on top.

   I started shooting at him immediately, and immediately ran out of ammo. Jeez, just one shot, I got off, but I think I hit him somewhere.

   That didn't stop him though, he started growling, like some kind of.... oh I don't know, something really horrible, and leaped at me, knife in hand.

   He slashed me a good one, right across the chest, and my left leg.

   We grappled for what seemed like forever, but he soon had me pinned down, one hand on my throat, the other hand with the knife, ready to stab right down on my throat or worse.

   His savage eyes locked onto mine and he said something in a strange language, that sounded like "Eetah, Da Na kootu!".

   That was it I thought I had bought the farm, and the town gazebo, but just before the knife struck home, I heard the Long haired guy, grunt in pain, then he fell off of me, and off the truck.

  I looked up and saw Muggy kneeling right in front of me, with a tire iron in his hand, and no expression what so ever on his face.

   I shook the cobwebs out of my head, and looked at road behind us. There was that Long haired war paint, guy, shaking his knife at us, and yelling, till the truck moved beyond his view.

   I crawled over to Muggy, patted him on the shoulder, and said "Thanks pal!" He didn't reply, so we just climbed back into the cab. Muggy, crawled into the cramped space behind, the seats and fell to sleep right away.

   I got a first aid kit from the glove compartment, and got to work on my wounds.

   "That was something, eh Champ?" I said, just because I needed to say something.

   Champ replied "Yep" and just stared straight ahead.

   Well, that’s everything so far, I've got to drive the rest of the way, till we make LaMirada. Champ needs some sleep, and Muggy has been sleeping the whole time, curled up like a big, ugly, stupid, baby.


   Poor Muggy.