Excerpt: Commander Cody And Her Lost Planet Airmen

The story so far
A few years from now, after the collapse of global civilisation, Air Force One and two escorting F22 Raptor jet fighters have reached Australia. USAF Flight Lieutenant Betty Sanchez, flying one of the Raptors with the call-sign Jessica One, has stayed back to fight off five enemy jets that were pursuing her and her comrades. Shortly after Sanchez shoots down one of the enemy aircraft, eight mysterious black propeller-driven craft arrive and shoot down two more. While four of the aircraft go after the last two enemy aircraft, the rest begin escorting Sanchez to safety towards Canberra. Sanchez is grateful for their help, and is becoming especially intrigued by the escort leader, an Australian woman who has identified herself as Biggles One...

WARNING!
* Unedited first draft
* Contains language that may offend

A moment later, the young pilot saw that the roadway through the hills led to a large spread-out city several kilometres away.
“Jessica One to Biggles One,” she said into her mouthpiece. “Is that Canberra ahead? Over.”
“No, that’s Goulburn,” Biggles One replied. “A few die-hards still live down there, bless ‘em, but most of the survivors came to join us in the ACT a couple of years ago. Over.”
Sanchez frowned. “Pardon my ignorance, Biggles One - what’s the ACT?”
“Australian Capital Territory,” Biggles One replied. “It’s where Canberra is. Sort of like the District of Columbia. Over.”
“I see. Thanks for that. Over.”
“No prob.” Biggles One laughed pleasantly once more. “You want to see something amusing down in Goulburn, Jessica One? Over.”
Sanchez gave a smiling frown. “Sure thing, if it’s safe. Over.”
Biggles One laughed again, louder this time. “Just don’t laugh too hard and forget what you’re doing, Jessica One. Everyone with me. Over and out.”
As the hills before Goulburn passed below, Biggles One began a gentle dive. The others followed.
A few minutes later, the five aircraft were flying two thousand feet over the eastern edge of Goulburn. Its buildings looked mostly intact, although here and there Sanchez could see signs of former fighting and current lifelessness – a few blackened and gutted ruins, vehicle wrecks on some roads and streets, and collapsed or half-fallen telegraph poles with sagging wires.
As the south-eastern corner approached, however, Biggles One radioed again.
“Look ahead to port,” she told Sanchez, and laughed again. “Like I said, though - don’t be too startled. Over.”
“Okay, then!” Sanchez acknowledged with a grin. “Over!”
The young pilot looked ahead to port.
A moment later, she saw it.
Her eyes widened.
“What the hell is that?!?” she cried.
Several laughs filled Sanchez’s ears as she studied what was passing below.
A giant concrete sheep stood several storeys high near a crossroads, across from what appeared to have been a large roadhouse.
“That’s the Big Merino!” Biggles One announced. “It used to be a leading tourist attraction here!”
There were more laughs, followed by one of the other pilots speaking for the first time.
“Yep, there certainly wasn’t much to see and do in Goulburn!” said a deep male Australian voice.
A third round of laughter sounded.
Sanchez smiled as she continued to study the Big Merino.
“We had our fair share of roadside attractions back home,” she said, and her smile softened with fond memory. “Some of them were real doozies, too...”
Sanchez turned back to the sky ahead, and her smile faded.
The five aircraft continued south-west, and left Goulburn and the Big Merino behind.