Highway To Armageddon (4 page)

           
I glance around the street see if there are any cars I can steal. I don’t see
any. That means I’m going to have to go after my friends on foot. I need to
hurry. I’ve heard the horror stories of what Caesar and his goons do to their
captives.

           
I check the coordinates flashing across my goggles. Lance and Krystal are a
good two miles away.

           
I gulp down another pain pill and dash through a blood-splattered alley.

Chapter
Three:  Lance

           
I’m not sure how long I’ve been out, but I wake up to darkness. At first I
think I’m still unconscious, but then I feel a sharp stabbing pain in my arms…
and my legs… and my chest… and my back… and my head… even my freaking hair. A
warm liquid oozes down my forehead and enters my mouth. It tastes salty.
Blood
.
I spit it out.

           
I try to move, but I can’t. My hands are bound behind my back. I’m sitting on a
hard chair, and I’m wrapped in chains. I jerk backwards, causing my chair to
move less than an inch. The chains jingle. If anyone else is in here with me,
by now they’re aware I’m awake.

           
I squint through the darkness. I make out a skylight on the ceiling. It’s dark,
which means it’s nighttime. Damn, I’ve been out a long time.  It must be
cloudy because I don’t see any stars.

           
Someone beside me moans. I turn to my right and see the silhouette of a person…
a
large
person. The silhouette mutters, “When I get out of here, I’m
going on an orphan killing spree.”

           
I smile. Good old Krystal. Even after being beat half to death and tied up with
chains, she still wants to kick some ass.

           
“Psst, Krystal.”

           
Krystal stops rattling her chains. “Lance? Is that you?”

           
“Shhh. Be quiet.”

           
Still talking too loud for comfort, Krystal says, “Oh, right, you think we
should be quiet in case the bad guys are watching us. Good thinking. So what’s
the plan?”

           
“Are your chains loose?”

           
Krystal’s silhouette bounces up and down, and her chains clatter against her
chair. About a minute later she stops and says, “Nope.”

           
I sigh. “Then I guess we wait.”

           
My eyes quickly become accustomed to the dark. I can now see clearly enough to
make out Krystal’s head. Bruises cover her face. Her right eye is almost
swollen shut. Even more shocking, though, is the fact that her wig is missing.
She looks so different with her short, natural hair.

           
Krystal stares at me and says, “You look terrible.”

           
“Thanks. You look like crap, too.”

           
“Please tell me they didn’t mess up my hair.”

           
I decide Krystal’s endured enough, so I lie and say, “It’s a little crooked,
but other than that…”

           
Krystal breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank God. This is my favorite wig.”

           
Bright light floods my vision. I squint my eyes shut, but all I see is white.

           
“What the hell!” Krystal shouts. “Turn off the damn light, fools!”

           
I’m still blinded, but I hear cackling… lots and lots of cackling. My instincts
were right; we aren’t alone.

           
A familiar voice shouts over the laughter. “I told you two to kill yourselves.
It’s a shame you didn’t take my advice. I really don’t enjoy torturing minors.”

           
Theodore Maxwell.

           
My vision is starting to come back. I still have to squint, but I can see
people crowding around us. Lots and lots of people.

           
Still rattling her chains, Krystal shouts, “When I get out of here, I’m ripping
out your intestines and hanging you with them!”

           
“Shut up, Krystal,” I snap. “Don’t give the lunatic any ideas.”

           
I can now make out the people surrounding us. Most of them are rough looking
men and women wearing leather jackets. Long hair dangles over their faces and
tattoos cover every inch of their exposed skin.

           
 Standing next to the gangbangers are dozens of orphans. I sort of feel
bad for them, even though they did try to kill us. I know they’re just trying
to survive. For a lot of orphaned kids it’s either join a gang, work as a
prostitute, or die.

           
I look around at my surroundings. We appear to be in a massive abandoned
factory. Cracked and shattered windows line all the walls. Fluorescent lights
hang from the ceiling. Old, rusted machinery is all over the place, as are
abandoned assembly lines.

           
Doing my best to sound brave, I shout, “Let us go, Maxwell, and we promise
you’ll get a fair trial. If you don’t… then I can’t guarantee your safety.”

           
Maxwell and his fellow gangbangers bust out in deafening laughter. I take it
they’re easily amused. The orphans simply stare at me in eerie silence. They’re
really starting to freak me out.

           
“Got any other bright ideas?” Krystal asks.

           
“Relax,” I say. “Everything’s going according to plan.”

           
Except it’s not.

           
Maxwell and his gangbanging friends suddenly shut up. They all move to the
side, revealing a tall, fat man wearing a velvet suit. The man has long, black
hair, a goatee, and is wearing sparkling rings bejeweled with gleaming
diamonds, rubies, and sapphires. A golden necklace hangs from his neck. The
necklace spells out his name…
Caesar.

           
Maxwell
and the gangbangers fall to their knees and bow their heads, like they’re being
visited by some sort of messiah. The orphans fall to their knees, too, but not
quite as quickly as Max and his pals. I take it they’re only doing what they
think
they should do, not what they
feel
they should do.

           
Maxwell lifts his head ever-so-slightly and bellows, “Hail Caesar!”

           
All the gangbangers and orphans respond in kind, shouting, “Hail Caesar!”

           
Caesar nods and raises his right hand, prompting his followers to rise to their
feet. He then hobbles over with a cane. I look into his dark eyes. They are
full of hate. I hope he sees the same in mine.

           
In
a baritone voice Caesar says, “You two look much younger than your reputation
would suggest.”

           
“And you look uglier in person than you do on your wanted posters,” Krystal
snaps back.  
        

           
Maxwell
and the gangbangers growl and mutter under their breaths. I notice several of
the orphans struggling to hide their smirks, including some of the ones who
beat the crap out of me.

           
Maxwell storms over and punches me in the side of my head. The pain from the
blow envelopes my entire skull. I hear Krystal scream and cuss up a storm. I
assume Maxwell hit her, too.

           
“You will treat King Caesar with respect, you sniveling…”

           
“Maxwell!” Caesar shouts.

           
I crack open my eyes and watch as Maxwell slowly walks back to his fellow
gangbangers. He continues glaring at me.

           
Caesar puts both of his meaty hands on his cane and leans forward. He stares at
me and Krystal for several long moments, as if he’s contemplating what sort of
torture he should put us through.

           
He finally says, “Why are you doing this?”

           
The question takes me by surprise. I’m not sure what he’s talking about.

           
Caesar repeats his question. “Why do you do this? Why do you hunt people trying
to make an honest living?”

           
An honest living? Is this guy on crack? Actually, he probably is. Crack is
rumored to be Caesar’s hottest-selling product.

           
“You are but children,” he continues. “Bounty hunting is not a suitable
occupation for people so young.”

           
“What do you suggest we do then?” I ask. “Work for you?”

           
Caesar flashes me a grim smile. “I would have gladly hired you. You are brash,
cunning, and brave. But it is too late for that. You have forfeited your right
to work for me. You have forfeited your right to
live
.”

           
Caesar starts pacing again. “You must know how dangerous I am. Why would you
come after me? Why not go after easier prey?”

           
“You know why,” I growl, unable to contain my anger. “You killed my uncle.”

           
Caesar grins. “Ah yes, your world famous bounty hunting uncle, Dagger. He
apprehended many of my men. How long has it been since I put a bullet in
Dagger’s forehead? Two months? Three?”

           
“Six, you son of a bitch.”

           
Caesar chuckles. “Has it really been that long? My my, time flies when you’re
having fun. So that’s what this is about then? It’s not about the money? This
is about revenge?”

           
“The money is the reason I tagged along,” Krystal says.

           
Caesar shakes his head, almost as if he pities us. “Revenge is a poor
motivator. It causes people to do stupid things.”  

           
Caesar waves his hand, and a teen boy dashes over with a small video camera. I
know what’s next. Caesar is going to film our execution and stream it live over
the internet. I never watched any of his infamous executions, but I heard
enough about them to know we’re totally screwed.

           
“I take it you know what’s next?” he asks.

           
“Do your worst,” Krystal snarls. “You’ll never break us.”

           
“Oh, I plan to. But first I want you to see why you’re being executed.”

           
I had heard about this. Apparently Caesar likes to show his victims why they’re
about to spend several hours being tortured to death. At least this will buy us
some time.

           
The lights dim and a holographic screen materializes on the back wall of the
factory. A picture of two Hispanic teens pops up on the screen. I recognize
them immediately. They’re Caesar’s nephew and son. Krystal and I apprehended
them about a month ago. We made enough money off of that job to pay the rent,
buy new weapons, and get a new car.

           
Pacing in front of us, Caesar says, “My son and nephew were good kids. Loyal
kids. They were next in line to run my empire. And what did you do? You invaded
one of my nightclubs, beat my son and nephew within an inch of their lives, and
took them to the authorities. Now they are facing the death penalty for
kidnapping, murder, embezzlement, racketeering, fraud, and other unfounded
accusations. Knowing our corrupt government, they’ve probably been tortured
mercilessly.”

           
This is most likely true. Several of Caesar’s top gangbangers have been
arrested and assassinated in recent days. The feds have probably gotten all
sorts of juicy intel out of his son and nephew.

           
The holographic screen vanishes, and the bright lights once again blast my
fragile eyes.

           
“Your execution is going to be particularly gruesome, but it is a necessary
evil,” Caesar says. “My enemies must realize there are serious repercussions
for interfering with my business. Unemployment in this country hovers around
80%. Unlike our corrupt government, I provide high paying jobs. The government
is jealous of my success, which is why they have out-sourced our apprehension
to people like you… young, naïve, incompetent children.”

           
  Caesar wobbles toward the rear of the factory. I take it he doesn’t want
to get blood splattered all over his velvet suit.

           
Maxwell and several of his gangbanging pals begin to approach us. They are
armed with bats, tire irons, stun guns, knives, and pliers. I struggle to
remain calm, but my heart is beating so fast it feels like it’s about to burst
out of my chest. 

           
The teen with the camera closes in on us. He smiles like a sadistic lunatic.

           
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, why do you need the pliers?” Krystal shouts, thrashing
around in her chair like crazy.

           
“What else am I going to use to yank out your teeth?” cackles a biker chick
with a serpent tattoo on her neck.

           
Maxwell holds up a canister of gasoline. “After we break every bone in your
body, we’re gonna set you on fire. I hope you have a high tolerance for pain!”

           
“Lance?”

           
I glance over at Krystal. I’m stunned by what I see in her eyes… fear.

           
“Stay calm,” I say. “Everything’s going according to plan.”