Suck My Blowhole

Recollection by Survivor of DD-Day

Transcribed from Rememberance Day Address to Second Generation Students

It was the most beautiful sunset I had ever seen.  The day was sweltering, the sun blinding on the horizon for hours.  I could tell through the gaps in my woven hat brim that what was coming was going to be something to remember.  As the minutes ticked by the sun swelled into a red bubble, popping beyond the last mountain ridge to paint the sky in the most beautiful rusty haze that washed away into the coming twilight.  It was the last sunset I would ever see.

I went to bed and slept tight as a bug, no clue as to what was coming.  I didn’t make much of my last day.  As the early afternoon came and my eyes resisted opening, I searched the internet for something IMPORTANT that’s happening NOW to jolt my brain awake.  I found more than usual.  Nothing too shocking, just about three weeks worth of domestic terrorist links, all posted before 11am.  By 4pm there were that many just in my state.

Nothing near me though, thank goodness.  Local government said not to worry, but stay inside and keep your doors locked, just as a precaution.  No problem, the sun was just as brutal as the day before.  I huddled in my A/C box sleeping chambers until my stomach demanded labor.  As I walked to the kitchen I thought to check the setting sun and found it exactly as it had departed the night before.  I thought the balcony seemed a lovely place to eat a sandwich.  I still hadn’t heard about any local rampages, I felt pretty safe.

I never made it to the balcony.  I was in the kitchen fishing a pickle from a jar when sirens I didn’t even know my neighborhood had startled me so bad I dropped the jar.  I wasted time cleaning it up before I checked my also blaring phone, which I had deliberately kept on silent. 

“SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY

Hostile Military Force Advancing from the West Coast…”

A shiver raced down my spine.  I went to unlock my phone but kept fumbling the lazy pattern. I had a missed call and voicemail from a friend who’d spent the day at the beach.  I’d told her the city said to stay home, but she’d just said “Duh, that’s why it’s the perfect time to go!”  I declined her invitation to join, a decision that probably saved my life.   It was nice of her to think of me while she was running for her life.  

It was hard to make out what she was saying, but this part came through crystal clear, I still remember it word for word, “They came from the water!  It’s the dolphins!!  What the fuck…It’s fucking dolphins!  They just started killing people!  What the fuck?”

I thought it was a joke.  I mean, who wouldn’t.  Then the power went out and the sirens cut.  I stuck my head out the kitchen window and could hear distant explosions towards the coastline.  People on the street below me were scurrying by like rats on a sinking ship.  I still didn’t really believe what was happening, certainly not that dolphins were involved.  I grabbed my keys and wallet, about the two most useless things I could have thought to take, and headed to the street.

I followed the crowd, most people shuffled along whispering back and forth, “Dolphins? Yeah that’s what I heard.”  “Is that code for something?”  “Maybe it’s the name of a terrorist cell?”  “I don’t know, this doesn’t make sense, just keep walking.”  

There were scatters of people walking the fastest, even pushing others out of the way.  They were wide eyed and dead silent, fixated on their escape.  I fold in line with a cluster of spooked fleers as they seemed to be making better headway, like an ambulance through rush hour.  We reach a junction and the mass slows, another body of confused fleers coming from the opposite direction.  No one knows what’s going on, no one knows where to go.  The mass starts draining up an onramp to the highway, lane splitting the gridlocked and abandoned vehicles.

We shuffled forward, waiting for our turn, when a low thumping echoed through the air.  It went largely unnoticed at first, a helicopter would not be unheard of during a large-scale emergency.  Heads start to turn to the sky when a muffled chanting grew clearer with the approaching helicopter.  Circling above us, the helicopter had attached loudspeakers blaring an old crackly marching song that sounded like it was ripped from a World War 2 propaganda cartoon.  “Is that German?”, I asked to no one in particular.  A nearby old man, formally of the wide eyed silent haste fleers, looked to me and said, “For today, Germany is ours, and tomorrow the whole world.”  His eyes welled with tears as he watched the circling helicopter.  He leaned and whispered to his huddled family, who spread out, searching the ground.  He looked to me and waved me closer.

One of his family shouted, “Zaydee! Here!”  Without a word the old man grabbed me by the collar and pushed me towards his grandson.  His family was clustered around a large sewer grate, working together to hoist its cover.  I began to protest his firm offer when the helicopter dropped lower and fired a volley of rockets at the crowded onramp.  Screams erupted as tens were killed instantly and the ramp collapsed, halting the escaping crowd.

The old man roughly pushed me to follow his family into the sewer.  I obliged.  He followed last once his family was safely at the bottom.  I shouted to him, “We can bring more people!”  He shushed me and roughly pushed me to follow his family deeper into the sewer.  His eyes tell me not to argue.

We heard intermittent screaming from the masses as we passed sewer grates above.  They slowly faded and were replaced by something I will never forget.  A growing tink tink tink of mechanical footsteps gave rise to the most awful squeeking I had ever heard.  Oh the squeeking!  It haunts my nightmares to this very day.  The more of us they slaughtered the louder their sadistic clicks and whistles grew.  Laughter.  They were cackling as they slaughtered us.

And well, you know the rest.  We scavenged at night, dug deeper, and started over without the sun.  They took the surface from us, how could we have seen it coming?  They teamed up, the dolphins and the nazis, we never saw it coming.