At The Blue House

“Find the blue house.”

That was the only instruction they’d given him.  Greasers were trying to kill him, him!  Rampaga, one of the most feared Lightboys in Cropsy Sector and the filthy Greasers had snatched him and were chasing him through the waste yards.

His time to think was over as the huge machine flew over the top of the trash mound and started racing down towards him.  Huge wheels had no problem with the sliding mountain, eating up the distance and Rampaga started to sprint.

He could hear the jeers of the dirty Greasers in the truck as he dove out of the way into a sticky pile of used wrappers.  It smelt terrible.

How long had this chase lasted?  He couldn’t be certain, but it was long enough for his clothes to get ruined and for him get as a filthy as a Greaser.

Up and down the mountains of waste from the City above, he ran, desperate and afraid.  The truck chased him and chased him, never letting up, but always just missing.


Finally, nestled beside a mound of worthless machine parts, Rampaga saw a small blue house.  Made from scrap, but definitely blue.

Sobbing with relief he sprinted towards it.  The truck roared out behind him, chasing him down.

Closer it came, louder and louder, the engine bellowing in mechanical fury.

Then he was at the door.  With a cry of victory, he hurled himself inside.

The engine noise faded.

Rampaga looked up to see seven huge Greasers holding very heavy tools and wearing fury on their faces.

“No.  They said I would be safe if I found the blue house.”

The oldest of the Greasers laughed “No.  They said you would be safe from them if you found the blue house.”

Rampaga screamed.




©  Robert Spalding 2011

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