Highway To Armageddon (23 page)

           
“Not really.” I’m tempted to use the last two pills in my belt buckle. I knew I
should have brought more along.

           
Lance helps me to my feet. My knees buckle on my way up, and I fall into his
arms.

           
“I’ve got you, Firecracker,” he says softly.

           
I look up at Lance and smile. Lance is always there to catch me when I fall.
Our faces are so close I could lean forward and kiss him if I wanted to.
Strangely, despite the war raging all around us, I’m tempted to.

           
Our tender moment is abruptly interrupted when Lance drops me and jumps back to
avoid a throwing star. The star narrowly whizzes past Lance’s ear and imbeds
into the back of an unfortunate cowboy. The cowboy shrieks and falls to his
knees.

           
Yang gives chase to Lance, who dashes into the back, drawing her away from me.
Yin does a backflip off of a nearby table and swings her saber. I roll out of
the way, just as the blade slices into the wooden floor. Yin’s about to swing
at me again when Machete tackles her from behind. The blade clatters to the
floor and Machete and Yin engage in a furious brawl.

           
I lean against a table and brush my hair out of my eyes. Unconscious, bloodied
bodies litter the floor. So do shattered bottles, broken stools, and collapsed
tables. Still, there are plenty of cowboys on their feet, as well as tons of
intact whiskey bottles. This brawl could go on all night.

           
Dorothy and Sally are over by the counter, doing their best to stay out of the
fray. I begin to make my way over to them when Big Daddy pops up out of
nowhere.

           
I’m too far away to stop when happens next. Big Daddy levels a pistol at Sally…
and fires.

           
I scream as Sally’s arms fly into the air and she falls backwards. Dorothy
shrieks and claws Big Daddy’s face with her nails. Big Daddy pushes her away
and aims his gun at her head.

           
There’s another gunshot.

           
Big Daddy turns to me, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and fear. He
looks down at my pistol, which is emitting a thin plume of smoke. Big Daddy
then looks down at the rapidly growing red circle leaking through his shirt.

           
Big Daddy falters and leans against the bar. His eyelids droop, like it’s
taking everything he has to prevent from being sucked into the black hole of
death.

           
I rush over to Big Daddy and aim my gun directly at his forehead.

           
“See you in Hell, bitch.”

           
I pull the trigger again, and Big Daddy’s head snaps back. He crumples to the
floor, never to rise again.

           
I wipe away the fresh blood splattered on my cheeks. Dorothy kneels down and
holds Sally’s quivering hand. Sally’s face is as white as snow, and her whole
body is convulsing. Blood trickles from her chest. A red puddle seeps out from
beneath her.

           
I clutch Sally’s other hand. It’s already cold and clammy.

           
Tears stream down Sally’s face. In between sobs she says, “Oh God, it hurts so
much. Dorothy, I… I don’t want to die…”

           
Sally continues to cry. My heart cleaves in two. I’ve never seen something so
horrible in my entire life.

           
“Hang in there, Sally. Everything… everything will be okay.”

           
Except it won’t be. Nothing will ever be okay again.

           
Dorothy stares at me with eyes so watery I almost can’t see her hazel irises.

           
“Isn’t there something you can do, Boom Boom?”

           
I give an almost imperceptible shake of my head. Sally notices it and succumbs
to an uncontrollable fit of sobs. I didn’t mean to be so blunt; it’s just that
in situations like this, it’s impossible for me to lie. Still, I can’t sit here
and let Sally die without doing something. I tear off my cowboy jacket and
press it against her wound.

           
“Dorothy, can you…”

           
Dorothy nods and applies pressure to the makeshift bandage.

           
Sally continues to cry out in pain. If only there was something I could…

           
The pain! I can numb the pain!

           
I flip open my belt buckle and grab my two remaining pills. For the briefest of
moments I consider keeping them for myself. That’s when I realize my addiction
has gotten out of hand. It’s changing me into a monster. I make a vow right
then and there that I’m ending my addiction cold turkey. I don’t care if it
kills me, I will
not
become a slave to addiction. Not if it’s going to
destroy my very soul.

           
I place the pills over Sally’s trembling lips.

           
“Open your mouth, Sally. It’s medicine. It’ll help.”

           
Sally opens her lips and I drop the pills inside. She takes a gulp and looks at
me pleadingly, begging me to save her. I wish I could. I wish it more than
anything in the world.

           
The pills are fast-acting. It’s why I use them. Within a matter of seconds
Sally’s cries of pain become nothing more than a murmur.

           
Dorothy hovers over Sally, rocking back and forth while she massages her left
hand. Her long, black hair dangles over Sally’s face. Sally’s eyelids droop,
and her convulsions begin to stop. The puddle of blood has started to soak
through my pants.

           
“Sally, don’t leave us,” Dorothy sobs. “You’re all I’ve got…”

           
Sally doesn’t answer. She’s beyond our help… beyond our prayers. I’ve seen this
more times than I care to remember. Sally has entered the twilight zone between
life and death, and rarely does one return from it.

           
Dorothy brushes Sally’s matted hair out of her eyes. They’re now fully closed.
Her breathing has slowed dramatically. I touch her wrist with my fingertips.
Her pulse is barely detectable.

           
“Sally?” Dorothy whispers. “S… Sally?”

           
By now the breathing has stopped. I clasp her wrist, feverishly waiting for
another thump of blood to gush through her veins. Something… anything.

           
It never comes.

           
“Sally?” Dorothy whispers again as a torrent of tears cascade down her cheeks.

           
Sally doesn’t answer.

           
She’ll never answer us again.

Chapter Nine:
Lance

           
“Die you sniveling maggot!”

           
Yang swings her blood-splattered blade. I jump back and trip over a fallen
stool. I land on my back… hard.

           
A cowboy bumps into Yang as she makes her way over to me. Yang plunges her
sword into the poor cowboy’s chest. I think I now know where all the blood stains
on her saber came from.

           
Yang yanks the sword out of the cowboy and points it at me. I scoot back until
I bump into something. I turn my head and see it’s another unconscious cowboy.

           
I hold up my hands and say, “I thought you wanted to take us in alive!”

           
“Plans changed after you twerps caught Pitbull on fire.”

           
Yang swings her sword. I barely move out of the way in time. A bloodcurdling
scream tells me she just hit the cowboy I was leaning against.

           
Yang turns to deliver another strike, but I’m ready for her. I kick out both of
my legs and sweep then under her feet. Yang topples over and lands face-first
on the floor. Her sword clatters over to another cowboy, who snatches it up and
runs off with it.

           
“Give me back my damn sword!” Yank shrieks. She sprints after the cowboy and
chucks throwing stars. The cowboy doesn’t stand a chance.

           
I’m about to check on Boom Boom when I notice Pitbull hurling Arrow up against
the wall. Arrow slides to the ground in a daze.

           
“Hey, metal-brain! Over here!”

           
Pitbull spins around and charges at me like a bull during mating season. I whip
up my pistol and pull the trigger.

           
And it clicks blank.

           
“Son of a...”

           
 Pitbull grabs the front of my shirt and lifts me over his head.

           
“Happy landings, punk.” Pitbull hurls me through the air. I fly all the way
toward the back of the saloon and collide into a cabinet full of whiskey
bottles. I slide to the floor as bottles crash all around me, soaking me in
alcohol. Several shards of glass lacerate my exposed skin. The whiskey enters
my wounds, worsening the pain.

           
The bartender rushes over. “Oh my God, kid, are you alright?”

           
“Do I freaking look alright?”

           
“Okay, okay, don’t bite my head off. Sheesh.” The bartender puts his arms under
my armpits and helps me to my feet.

           
Pitbull makes his way over. “Give me the kid and I won’t snap your neck,
old-timer.”

           
The bartender grabs a shotgun hidden under the counter and aims it at Pitbull’s
face. “You come any closer and I’ll feed you a mouthful of lead.”

           
Pitbull snatches the barrel of the shotgun with his cyborg hand and snaps it in
half. The bartender gasps and backs up against the wall. Pitbull grabs the
bartender by his shirt and hurls him up
over
the bar and halfway across
the room. The bartender crashes through one of the few still-standing tables.
He doesn’t get back up.

           
Pitbull turns his attention back to me. I grab my mace and spray it in his
face. It doesn’t faze him, though, I guess because his eyeballs are robotic.
Ptibull grabs me and hurls me across the room as well. The world becomes a blur
as I fly through the air and collide into two brawling cowboys.

           
I groggily push myself off the floor. Pitbull charges over and kicks me in the
gut. Even my Kevlar vest doesn’t do much to blunt the impact. I roll onto my
back, gagging.

           
Pitbull picks me up and tosses me again. This time I land on a table full of
whiskey bottles. I slide off the table and collapse onto the floor, even more
soaked than I was before.

           
Pitbull stomps over and chortles. “Had enough yet, punk?”

           
If I was smart I’d get up and run away. But I’m not smart, so I woozily stand
up and say, “I’m just getting started. By the way, you hit like a bitch.”

           
Pitbull flashes an evil smile, revealing his rotted, yellow teeth. “I like it
when my prey shows a little fight. I like that a lot.”

           
I lunge toward Pitbull and swing a punch. My fist connects with his right
cheek, but it’s like I’m punching solid steel. I yelp and clutch my throbbing
hand.

           
Pitbull cackles and taps his blackened, rotting flesh. “Most of my skeleton is
encased in a metallic coating. It’s a brand new procedure they just started,
and I was one of their first patients. Makes me nearly indestructible.”

           
I fall to my knees as the pain in my fist intensifies. I wouldn’t be surprised
if some of the little bones in my hand are broken.

           
“My God,” I gasp, fighting through the pain. “You’re barely human.”

           
Pitbull scoffs. “Being human is overrated.” He flexes his robotic arm. “This is
the future. Soon we’ll all be robots. General Kang is over 90% robot, and I aim
to outdo her. After I get that $10 million bounty for turning your carcass over
to Caesar, I’m gonna get even more work done.”

           
“Nice life story.” I notice an intact whiskey bottle a few feet away from me.
Next to it is a still-lit cigar. One of the cowboys must have dropped it.

           
“Hey Pitbull, you look a little thirsty. Have a drink… on me!”

           
I grab the bottle and hurl it at Pitbull’s face. He blocks the bottle with his
robotic arm, just like I expected him to. The bottle shatters, soaking Pitbull
from head to toe.

           
Pitbull shakes his soaked, stringy hair, spraying droplets of alcohol everywhere.
“Did you honestly expect that to faze me? All you did was piss me off!”

           
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I grab the lit cigar and twirl it around in my hand. “Want a
smoke, too?”

           
Pitbull’s glowing eyes widen as his peanut-sized brain finally figures out what
I’m up to.

           
“What? No, don’t---”

           
If Pitbull thought his pleas for mercy were going to make me reconsider, he’s
sadly mistaken. I flick the cigar at his chest. Pitbull tries to duck, but he’s
too slow. The instant the cigar makes contact, Pitbull erupts in flames.
Everyone in the bar stops fighting for a moment to watch the flaming cyborg run
out of the saloon, screaming bloody murder. Flickers of flames fall to the
floor, igniting nearby puddles of liquor. The flames quickly spread to the
wooden tables and stools. Some of them even start lapping up the bottom of my
jacket. I forgot I’m covered in whiskey, too!