Oompa Loompa Takeover

Chapter 5

V

Miles Gobie was born on October 19, 2015. His mother and father were not married when he was conceived, and they never did tie the knot. The next eleven years he spent either with his father or with his mother, each in different states and towns. On March 7th, 2028, on the day that later would be referred to as the first day of The Takeover, Miles was currently living with his mother in Ferris, NY. That day he and his mother woke to the sound of emergency vehicles. Everyone, everywhere, across the world, was dying. In the weeks before that day, Wonka's factory had put out thousands of new chocolates and sweets, all at a discount price, and held giveaways across the globe in what appeared to be an attempt to market their new candies in celebration of The Chocolate Factory's 75th year. It worked. Truckloads of Wonka's finest was distributed and devoured by the people of Earth. Large quantities were given as a gift, or in celebration, to the army, all the children's foundations, even the dignitaries across the seas.

For weeks the world munched while inside their bodies a poison the world had never before seen, exported straight out of the jungles of Loompa Land, laid in wait, building up in their systems and biding its time until its chemical reaction was triggered.

One moment, everything was as it should be.

The next day there was 6 billion less people in the world.

The only people that were left were the fitness nuts, the diabetic, and the poor. Miles came into the second category. His mom fell into the first.

March 8th, before anyone had even had time to mourn or bury their dead, the attacks started. It was clear then, if it hadn't been before, that this was no accident.

This was war...

Miles dropped to the dirt and crouched down, his eyes scanning the open grounds of the factory. There was a troop of Oompa Loompa's beginning their training exercises and marching around on the East side. There were six of them guarding the main entrance, and on the West, at the loading dock entrance, there were four. He forced himself not to pull out the firearm he had tucked into the waistband of his grey military pants.

Gerald dropped down beside him, his green hair completely whacked out, sticking out in all the wrong places and his orange face cream running from sweat. His jaw however, was set, and his dark eyes hardened into a squint. He nodded at Miles, showing he was ready. For the millionth time Miles thought of how completely insane this plan was and how they were doomed to fail. But he was desperate.

Miles had not fallen to them yet. Not when everyone in the world had. Not when his mother had been murdered by a shot to the back with a high powered butterscotch shatter bullet. Not when he thought he'd run out of insulin and collapsed in that mini-mart.

He'd found a way to make it through. All the while only thinking of his revenge. At getting back at the monsters that had taken everything from him. He was diabetic, he could only live in a world like this, where insulin was limited, for so long. This mission was his last ditch effort to hurt them in the hardest way possible.

And Gerald? He was just insane enough to go with it.

The two boys scrambled out and away from the chute, straightening and beginning to march to the West entrance of the factory.

Miles's hands were shaking, his heart pounding so loud that he feared the Oompa Loompas standing guard at the entrance would hear it. Did anyone see them drop down from the chute? Had anyone noticed them yet? Miles dared not glance around to see lest he appear more suspicious than he already did. Now that he was over the wall, the grounds surrounding the factory seemed huge and exposing. He looked down to his boots, willing his legs to keep walking, not to turn around and run back to the chute. There was no turning back now, this had to work.

Gerald slowed as they approached the entrance and sidled off towards one of the brick walls to imitate an off duty guard.

Even though Miles knew it was part of the plan, he nearly cried out for Gerald to come back. He steeled his nerves and pulled his face taught. He had to pull this off, it was his plan. How many times had they gone over this?

The four Oompa Loompas next to the double doors turned and scrutinized him. Miles continued to walk as calmly as possible towards the entrance, a small sliver of hope rising up that maybe, just maybe, they'd let him pass unaccosted. One of them, different from the others only in that his face was longer and his eyes turned down at the ends, stepped in his path and put a hand to his chest. Stupid, of course they wouldn't, he'd known that. Miles stopped and looked down with a gulp into the dark green eyes of the creature.

He waited breathlessly for it to do something. To speak, hopefully.

Its lips were silent as it stared at his face. Miles knew he looked like a kid dressed up in an Oompa Loompa costume. Whatever makeup finesse Gerald and he had managed to achieve earlier had died during their escapade in the chocolate chute. For once, the O.L didn't have to sing for him to understand them. "Are you kidding me?" was obviously painted across all four of their faces.

Miles dared a glance to Gerald, who was in position 10 yards away. Gerald mad-dogged him and made motions of singing with his hands and mouth. Right.

"Uh...Oom-pa Loom-pa doompity doo..." Miles sang meekly, his voice cracking. "If you were wise you'd let me through?"

A chubbier faced one snorted a laugh and clapped his hand over his mouth to stifle it. Another leaned to the side and whispered something in his friend's ear while pointing at Miles hair. The two looked almost tiddly. The one directly in front of him however, did not look amused. It shook its head in disbelief. Almost like it pitied his stupidity. It raised its handgun to his forehead.

CRACK!

Blood was sprayed everywhere. In Miles eyes, his mouth, his nose. He recoiled, blinded with red, and fell on his ass. Two more cracks and then the scrape of boots on dirt. Miles struggled to breath and wipe the warm liquid that coated his face from his eyes. What was going on?

"Oompa Loompa Fuckity Doo! Come and get it!" he heard someone shriek, quickly followed by more gunshots.

Gerald.

Miles finally regained his sight to see his friend running East, directly towards the training group, while shooting erratically at the swarms of O.L. that had thrown themselves after him.

No! That wasn't the plan! If things went bad, Gerald was supposed to shoot the guards and then join him as they entered the factory! What was he doing?!

He was making a diversion. He was saving Miles's mission and his life.

The Oompa Loompas that had been blocking Miles's way were gone, only two bodies left bleeding out on the dead grass and dirt. Miles pulled the Glock from his waistband and managed to push himself up.

Had this been Gerald's plan all along? Had he known that there were too many for it to be done any other way? Miles knew that Gerald's sacrifice would mean nothing if he made some stupid attempt to save him. But could he really just do nothing?!

He couldn't. He began running after his friend. "Gera--" A cacophony of gunshots drowned him out. He was too late.

Gerald screamed as he was shot from a hundred different angles and fell, his form quickly disappearing from Miles's sight, his body swarmed by the O.L.

Miles skidded to a stop and was frozen there in horror. "No."

This had been a mistake.

"No." He shook his head and stumbled back a few feet. He was ready to give up right then. He was done. Let them shoot him too. He couldn't keep going. Not without his mom. Not without Gerald.

No. Not yet. Something inside him demanded. He couldn't give up until he'd hurt Willy Wonka and the Oompa Loompas. Not until they'd paid. Notyetnotyetnotyetnotyet. It became a sort of chant in his brain as he turned and ran for the entrance he'd previously abandoned. His brain did nothing but repeat the loop as he leapt over the bodies of the guards and tore open the door. Not yet.