Read Highway To Armageddon Online
Authors: Harold Bloemer
“Naw, too much work. Let’s just knock.”
Lance raps his knuckles against the door. A moment later the door opens just a
crack.
A dirty cowboy peeps out and grunts, “What the hell do you want?”
Lance responds by kicking the door in. The cowboy falls flat on his butt.
Lance and I rush in with our guns drawn. The other two perverts are sitting on
the bed. One yelps and falls off. The other raises his hands and shouts, “Don’t
shoot!”
Dorothy and Sally cower in the corner by the window. I’m relieved to see
they’re still clothed. We came just in time.
Sally’s face brightens when she notices who we are. “B… Boom Boom?”
“Hey kiddo,” I say, unable to contain my grin.
Sally runs over and throws her arms around me. I pat her back and kiss her
head.
Dorothy hurries over, too, and joins in on the hug.
Sally peeks over my shoulder and gawks at Lance.
“H… hi, Lance,” she says with the same shyness a young girl might have around
her favorite teenybopper.
“Hi,” Lance says, not really paying attention to her. He’s focused on the
perverts in the room.
The first guy we knocked down clambers to his feet and drunkenly slurs, “What
the hell do ya think her doing? If ya want a room, go buy yer own!”
The pervert grabs Dorothy’s arm and pulls her away from me. “C’mon, girlie.
Let’s go into the bathroom and have some fun.”
“No, get off of me, you creep!”
Dorothy yanks her arm out of the pervert’s grasp and slaps him across the face.
The cowboy clutches his cheek and shrieks, “You filthy whore!”
The cowboy grabs Dorothy and hurls her to the floor. That’s the catalyst that
unleashes my boiling rage. I pistol-whip the perv in the face and kick him in
the head. He falls onto a table, flattening it.
Lance charges over to the creep still on the bed and punches him in the face.
The creep slides to the floor, cupping his bloodied nose. Lance grabs a lamp
and smashes it over the pervert’s head, plunging him into unconsciousness.
Lance and I turn to face the last pervert, trembling over by the window.
“P… please, don’t h…hurt me!” he pleads.
“We won’t hurt you
that
much,” I say, lunging toward him.
The pervert yelps and jumps
through
the window, shattering the glass. He
screams as he plummets out of sight.
“Omigosh!” I cry, rushing over to the shattered window. I glance down to find
the pervert sprawled out in a cart full of manure.
Lance laughs. “He couldn’t have picked a better spot to land.”
Dorothy and Sally grin like they’ve just been liberated from captivity. And in
a way I guess they were.
Sally hugs me a second time. “Thanks for saving us again, Boom Boom.”
“Don’t mention it, hon,” I say, patting her on the back. It’s a wonderful
feeling having someone excited to see you, especially after you’ve rescued them
from unspeakable horror. This time I’m going to make sure Dorothy and Sally
escape the shackles of sexual slavery for good.
Dorothy walks up to Lance and grabs his hand. “Thank you for helping us,” she
says softly.
Lance stammers, “D… don’t mention it.”
Lance peers over the top of his goggles to make direct eye contact. They both
smile and continue to stare into each other’s eyes. I quietly wonder if there’s
something there…. Some spark between them. I’m surprised at how jealous that
makes me feel. That, of course, makes me feel ashamed. Dorothy has been through
hell, and I’m pissed because she’s expressing gratitude to my ex for saving her
from an awful night. My horror about my own feelings squashes my irrational
jealousy… for now, at least.
I shake my head, clearing it of stupid, selfish thoughts. “What happened to you
girls? I thought you were taking the train to Sanctuary 7.”
Dorothy finally stops gazing at Lance and breathlessly explains, “We got on the
train like you said and headed toward Canada. We had to make a stop in Detroit,
though, so passengers could get on and off. While Sally and I took a stroll on
the platform to stretch our legs, we were spotted by some guys who work in Big
Daddy’s prostitution ring. We were dragged to a house somewhere and beaten.”
The bruises around Dorothy’s eyes prove she’s not exaggerating any of this. It
takes everything I have not to put a bullet through the skulls of the two
perverts still in the room. I tighten my embrace around Sally when I notice her
blinking back tears.
“Big Daddy showed up the next day,” Dorothy continues. “He beat us even worse
than his thugs did. He then decided to bring us here, to the Wild West. Big
Daddy said we could make more money here.”
Lance grits his teeth. “And where is this ‘Big Daddy’?”
Lance clenches his fists so hard that they turned white. He’d love nothing more
than to shove his pistol down Big Daddy’s throat and make him crap bullets. I’d
like to do worse.
“I… I don’t know,” Dorothy says, glancing over her shoulder. She must be afraid
Big Daddy will reappear at any moment. “He usually stays in the back to drink
and smoke with the other pimps.”
“Maybe we should pay him a little visit,” Lance says, marching toward the door.
“No,” Dorothy shouts. She runs over to Lance and grabs his arm. “Big Daddy is
too dangerous. Boom Boom knows, he nearly killed her in Cincinnati.”
Lance looks over at me and cocks an eyebrow. I avoid eye contact. I never
mentioned how badly Big Daddy brutalized me, mostly because of everything that
happened with Caesar. There’s no sense in bringing it up now.
The first pervert I knocked out starts to stir. I promptly kick him in the
head.
“You’re losing your touch, Firecracker,” Lance says. “Usually when you take
someone down they stay down for hours.”
“I could say the same to you, blockhead.” I gesture toward the pervert Lance
attacked, who is starting to stir as well. Lance casually walks over and socks
the guy in the face. He immediately crumples to the floor.
“So what are we going to do about the girls?” Lance asks.
“You can’t leave us!” Sally cries. “We hate it here!”
Lance bites his lip. He turns to me and says, “They can’t come with us to
Vegas. It’s way too dangerous, plus we don’t have enough room in the Moon
Cruiser. We could put them on a train to Sanctuary 7, but how do we know they
won’t get caught again?”
Sally grabs my arm. “Boom Boom, please don’t leave us. Please.”
I wipe away Sally’s tears. “I won’t, sweetheart. We’ll figure something out.”
Dorothy suddenly gasps. Sally screams and backs up onto the bed.
I spin around and bump smack-dab into Pitbull. His face is scarred and
blackened. Sparks fly out of his cracked robotic eyeball. The stench of
scorched flesh floods my nostrils.
“Miss me?” Pitbull snarls.
I stumble backwards. “How in the hell did you find---”
I never finish my sentence because Pitbull punches me in the face. Thankfully
it’s with his normal arm. His robotic one probably would have killed me. Still,
the blow is strong enough to knock me flat on my back.
I sit up just in time to see Pitbull grab Lance by his neck and hurl him out
the door and
over
the balcony.
“LANCE!”
I whip out my taser and blast Pitbull in the chest. He falls to his knees and
shakes violently. More sparks fly out of his shattered eye socket.
I wave at Dorothy and Sally, who are still cowering in the corner. “C’mon
girls, let’s move!”
Dorothy grabs Sally’s wrist and leads her out the door. I hit the retract
button on my taser and ran after them.
I lean over the railing on the balcony and glance down. Lance is sprawled out
on top of the piano. The piano man gingerly helps him up. He looks a little
dazed and confused, but thankfully he doesn’t appear seriously injured. His
Kevlar vest must have cushioned his fall.
Dorothy and Sally are just about to run downstairs when Big Daddy blocks their
path.
“And where do you hoes think you’re going?”
“Big Daddy, we---ahhh!”
Big Daddy smacks Sally, sending her to her knees.
“I don’t wanna hear your damn excuse!” Big Daddy screams. “I shoulda slit your
throat the first time you ran away. I told you there’d be no more second
chances.”
Dorothy scratches Big Daddy’s face with her long nails. Big Daddy howls in
agony and grabs his bleeding cheek.
I rush over and kick Big Daddy in the gut. I follow up with a kick to the side
of his head. Big Daddy tumbles down the stairs.
“You girls alright?” I ask, helping Sally up.
“Y… yeah,” Sally stammers. The poor thing must be in a state of shock from all
the chaos. Dorothy, however, is eerily calm. She’d make one hell of a bounty
hunter.
I lean over the balcony. Lance is back on his feet and trading blows with a
cowboy. The whole saloon is still embroiled in a no-holds-barred brawl.
I turn back to Dorothy and Sally. “You guys need to go outside and hide under a
porch or something until we’re finished here.”
“No, we’re not leaving you,” Dorothy says.
“You can help me by going outside,” I snap. I’m about to go off on a tirade
when Dorothy and Sally gasp and step back. I spin around to find Yang
back-flipping out of a motel room, wielding a sword. She swings the sword
directly at my head. I duck just in the nick of time. It’s a close call, too;
several strands of my hair flutter to the ground.
Dorothy and Sally flatten against the wall as Yang erratically swings her saber.
I dodge her next few swipes, but I can’t keep it up forever. I catch a break
when Yang’s sword gets stuck in the balcony railing. I kick the sword out of
Yang’s hands and punch her in the face. Yang holds her nose and stumbles
backwards. Dorothy rushes over and shoves Yang over the railing. Yang plummets
to the first floor but somehow uses her cat-like reflexes to land on her feet.
I lean against the railing to catch my breath. Avoiding decapitation from a
psycho ninja takes a lot of energy.
“T… thanks for the assist, Dorothy,” I gasp. “You were really impressive.”
Dorothy shrugs. “It’s no big deal. I’m just tired of being pushed around. It’s
time I stood up for myself.”
I nod. I understand what she’s going through more than she’ll ever know.
Just when I think things are starting to go our way, I’m proven wrong when
Pitbull barges out of the motel room. He grabs me around the neck with his
robotic arm and hurls me over the balcony like he did with Lance.
I curl into a ball on my way down, so that my armor-plated back protects the
rest of my body. I slam onto the piano. Sharp pain shoots up my spine. I don’t
have time to wallow in my agony, however. Pitbull catapults himself off the
balcony and flies straight toward me. I roll off the piano a split-second
before impact. Pitbull crashes through the piano with his cyborg elbow,
completely crushing it.
I’m still groggy from my rough landing, and I’m definitely in no state to fight
someone like Pitbull. I fumble for my gun, but my fingers don’t work properly.
Pitbull emerges from the wreckage of the piano and lunges toward me. Just when
he’s about to grab me, an arrow bounces off of his bulletproof vest.
“Pick on someone your own size, you defective bucket of bolts,” Arrow shouts
from the other side of the room. He fires another arrow, which Pitbull deflects
with his robotic arm.
“You just signed your own death sentence, punk,” Pitbull snarls, charging after
Arrow. I’m grateful for the diversion.
Lance lumbers over, clutching his lower back.
“You okay, Firecracker?”