Legend of Mace (27 page)

Feeling himself get focused and dark, Mace answered slowly and deliberately. “We kill every last one.” Taking a deep breath, he tried to quickly formulate a plan. “We’re looking at about even odds I think. They’ve got speed but we’re better protected. Let’s start with fireballs and flaming arrows. Make them think twice about storming the compound. If we can keep them at a distance, we can use the sniper rifles to pick them off.”

“The back wall is compromised,” Woody said, wanting to share all information. “That’s going to be their best shot to get in.” Seeing the curious look on Mace’s face, he added, “They slammed into it with the trailer. A good portion of it crumbled.”

“That’s where I’ll be, then,” Mace said, clenching his fists as he itched to finish off Razor and his gang. He’d die before they’d lay a hand on any of the kids. Thinking of the kids, he couldn’t help but ask, “Who’d we lose?”

Woody’s face went slack for a second. “Jim and Yvette.”

The anger Mace felt turned momentarily to shock and sadness, then to an overwhelming sense of rage. “Those motherfuckers,” he said bitterly as he turned towards the back wall. 

As Razor moved his half of the gang towards the rear of the compound, two of his riders suddenly split off and drove behind debris piles, where they stopped and hid. They'd wait and climb over the side wall, creating chaos from within.

Woody spoke quickly to the kids waiting inside the training area. “Get the catapults ready. Man one at the front and two at the rear. We’re not giving up our camp.”

Looking up, day was just beginning to give way to twilight. Another hour and they’d be covered in darkness. “Let’s take these guys out before it gets dark,” he said more quietly.

Mace watched from the crumbled rear wall as Razor and half his bikers pulled to within a hundred yards of the compound. They began circling in a wide circumference, revving their engines. Standing next to Mace, Chelsea looked up to him and asked, “What are they doing?”

Maya and Kelly leaned in to hear his response as a half- dozen other kids took up positions along the wall. Mace briefly looked back to watch Travis and a few other boys reposition the catapults.

Black smoke continued to wisp up from the trailer, which  steadily smoldered. The smell of burning flesh filled everyone’s noses. None of them reacted.

“Trying to intimidate us and see what we do.” Staring out at the bikers, he wanted blood. His whole being cried out for it.

When he first approached the back wall, he’d been greeted by the lifeless and mutilated bodies of his friends. He moved them to the side, then heaved the dead infected over the wall as the bikers started circling. Staring out at his enemies, the desire for bloodshed flowed through him like a wildfire uncontained.

“What are we going to do?” Chelsea asked, looking up and growing a bit more nervous as bikers screamed out war-calls, sounding  loud and deranged.

Mace’s face went dark. “Send them a message.” He lifted his Walkie-Talkie. “You ready, J?”

“Just say the word,” she answered, her eye pressed against the scope as she lay prone on the roof of the amphitheater. The barrel of the rifle rested on a brace near the edge of the roof.

Looking behind him and locking eyes with Travis, Mace said, “Get ready to launch the fireballs once the arrows let loose. I want them aimed fifty yards out.”

Travis felt his heart race with pride. Looking over at the Ranger that manned the second catapult, they nodded at each other in preparation then cranked on the levers to the desired mark. Once they reached it, they lifted their torches, ready to ignite the heavy projectiles.

Turning to Chelsea, Mace said, “As soon as I hit the other side of the trench I want arrows in the air. Adjust for speed. They’ll be heading our way.”

“What do you mean other side of the trench?” Chelsea asked, surprised. “What are you going to do?”

“Let them know they’re in for a fucking fight.” He picked up the Walkie-Talkie again. “How does it look out front?”

“They’re circling about a hundred yards out,” Bailey answered a second later, “screaming like idiots.”

“Let them circle until you hear Jade’s shot,” answered Mace. “If they try to storm, they’ll start setting off the mines.”

“Will do.”

Woody picked up his radio. “We’re ready with arrows and catapult. Let’s get this over with before it gets dark.”

As soon as Mace’s radio dropped to his side, Chelsea prodded him again, “What are you going to do, Mace?”

“The cab of that truck didn’t burn,” he said, nodding his head towards the front of the trailer. “I’m going to see if it will still run.”

“And if it does?”

“Then I’m gonna ram it down their throats.”

“There’s got to be like twenty motorcycles out there!” Chelsea said excitedly. “If we’re shooting arrows and you’re driving towards them, aren’t we going to hit the truck.”

Mace couldn’t help but allow a dark smile to curl up his lip. “I’ve got a roof, remember?”

“What about the fireballs?”

Mace just stared back calmly.

“And what if the truck doesn’t start?” Chelsea asked.

Feeling his body tingle, he patted her on the shoulder. “You sure ask a lot of questions. If the truck doesn’t start, then I’m going after them on foot.” His adrenaline was peaking.

“You’re crazy!” Chelsea said.

Mace turned his attention back to the circling bikers. “Time to finish this shit,” he said loudly. The rear of the semi rested a few feet beyond the trench. The trailer, still smoldering, was almost completely disintegrated.

Stepping over the crumbled wall, Mace prepared to leap across the trench. He turned back, winked at Chelsea, then lifted the Walkie-Talkie. “Take out these fucks,” he said to Jade.

Razor pulled his bike to a stop in the middle of the circle and raised a pair of binoculars to scan the camp. One of his lieutenants pulled next to him as the rest of the bikers circled around them.

“See anything?” the biker asked.

In between the pass of bikes, Razor spotted one person: Mace, standing on the other side of the crumbled wall, ready to leap over the trench.

“Motherfucker,” Razor said. “I’m gonna gut that fucker like a fish.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Let’s keep circling until the ambulance shows. Dawson said it was mostly kids. Let’s get them pissing their pants before we blow them to hell.”

A split second later he spotted a brief flash from the roof of the amphitheater. Blood suddenly sprayed from the biker passing directly in front of him. Brain matter and blood arced around him.

“Shit!” he yelled, pissed as he wiped specs of blood off his face. “These fuckers want a fight? Let’s storm!” he yelled as he rolled the throttle and pulled forward, leading the gang directly towards the back wall.

Jade lined up another shot, pissed that a passing biker ruined her shot at Razor. From below her along the wall, the first wave of arrows released, their tips burning and hot. Each arrow had been dipped in pitch, and one kid ran along the front lines as they raised their bows, igniting each arrowhead.

Flaming arrows suddenly soared from the compound, heading directly towards the bikers. A second later two fireballs sprang from their catapults, and the bikers swerved recklessly to avoid impact, a few crashing into each other as several arrows found their marks.

Jade’s second shot missed Razor’s face by an inch as he turned the bike suddenly to avoid an incoming arrow. The fireballs landed directly in front of the bikers, bouncing hot and spraying flames as the bikers tried to avoid impact. One of the fireballs made direct contact on its second bounce with a Harley, and its occupant screamed as flames erupted all around him.

Razor yelled, “Retreat!” as the second wave of arrows sprang forth from behind the wall. A third of his men were down. Several more were injured but still riding. Small tufts of flames leapt off their clothes from where the arrowheads first made contact.

Momentarily losing track of Razor, Jade took out another biker as he swerved his bike to flee. The Walkie-Talkie squawked on and she could hear Bailey's voice yell out, “They’re coming!” from the front.

Jumping in the semi, Mace fired it up and put it into gear. Flooring it, the truck struggled to move with the heavy trailer-tailgate embedded into the wall and back trailer wheels stuck in dirt. Mace put it in reverse for a second and the kids reacted nervously as more of the wall crumbled in front of them. Placing it back into first gear, Mace floored it again. This time the smoldering wood that connected the tailgate broke free, leaving the tailgate behind.

The truck started to move as pieces of the trailer and burnt bodies fell or rolled off. The wheels tore loose of the dirt and the rear of the trailer momentarily sank into the trench before Mace shifted into second and the trailer pulled itself free.

Beside himself with rage, Razor looked back as flaming arrows smacked into the dirt around him. Watching the semi jolt forward made him all the more pissed. With the truck in play, it would put them more on the defensive, at least until they could kill Mace.

One of the bikers pulled next to him. “What do we do?” he yelled as they rode side by side.

“Meet up with the other group," Razor yelled back. “We need to take care of that fucker first,” he said, nodding back towards the semi that now gained speed as its wheels rolled swiftly towards them, “and then we blow this whole fucking place. Fuck teenage pussy. They’re all gonna die!” Rolling the throttle, he pulled away from the biker and screamed into the air, “Where the fuck is my ambulance!”

The two bikers they'd left on the side were now running towards the compound on foot, zigzagging as they ran, trying to stay low as they approached the side wall. For the moment, no one covered that quadrant inside.

Motorcycles suddenly appeared from around the back, racing straight for them. One froze like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of which way to go, while the other one took off, sprinting towards the compound wall to avoid getting run over.

At the last second the one that froze tried to dodge out of the way of a bike as it changed direction to maneuver around him. The bike crashed directly into him, cutting him in half as the biker on the motorcycle flew off his bike and soared overhead before smacking into the ground and rolling to a stop. The motorcycles roared past, continuing on towards the front of the compound as the semi turned the corner in pursuit.

Mace spotted the sprinting biker as he leapt at the wall, grabbing a tentative hold with his fingertips. As he tried to pull himself up, Mace aimed the truck towards him, his face steely cold and intense.

Turning his head to see the truck fast approaching, the biker screamed as Mace scraped the side of the truck and trailer against the adobe wall. The side-view mirror was swept right off as it smashed against the concrete, which cracked and splintered as the truck rubbed against it.

At the last second the biker tried to push off the wall to avoid a collision. His body slammed into the windshield, cracking it. Mace made eye-contact with the biker for a second as the speed of the truck kept him momentarily locked in place. Mace lifted his 9mm handgun and fired at the right edge of the windshield, where the biker’s face was locked in a wide-eyed scream.

The windshield splatted red as the bullet found its mark. Mace swerved the truck back to the right, away from the wall, and the body shifted down and to the left, sliding under the truck. The left front tire rolled over it, but Mace kept the truck steady as he turned on the windshield wiper to clear the blood. With the cracks in the glass, the blood smeared more than wiped clean, and Mace smiled wickedly as he continued with the chase.

At the front of the compound, the second group of bikers sped towards the front gate to storm it as flaming arrows and fireballs released. A fireball landed in front of the bikers, triggering a mine. The explosion sent a huge arc of flames outwards, spraying the approaching bikers with sticky fire. Their screams filled the air as they fell off their bikes and rolled around, unable to free themselves from the burning holocaust.

Bikes skidded as others turned to flee, and more flaming arrows punched into backs as the bikers tried to drive away. Razor turned the corner and almost lost control of his bike at the sight. His gang in front were more decimated than those from the rear. He rolled the throttle away from the camp and screamed in frustration as the rest of the bikers followed suit. They needed to regroup. They'd just got their asses handed to them.

The semi rolled fast after the fleeing bikers. Mace wasn’t about to stop the chase. Watching from the wall, Woody instantly ordered all bikes on the dirt. They’d finish them off before they could return.

As soon as the gate pulled open, dirtbikes squealed out of the compound. Sixteen fighters left in hot pursuit of the bikers as the rest of the camp dug in and prepared for any other type of attack.

Twilight began its descent upon San Antonio, Texas, as a few cave swallows darted across the sky in pursuit of flying insects. Eager to feed before returning to one of the large debris piles on the outskirts of the city, they swiftly maneuvered across the atmosphere. Appearing like tiny dots zigzagging across the flame-red hue of a growing sunset, Mace never noticed their flight as he raced after the fleeing biker gang.

The Rangers on dirtbikes started to catch up as Mace struggled with the gears and the Harleys pulled farther away. They couldn’t keep pace with the larger bikes, and they all started to fall behind.

Mace finally slowed the truck and turned it wide around to face the Mohawk warriors. Pulling to a stop, Mace saw the hardened and determined expressions of the boys in the glow of his headlamps. He grinned at the sight.

Back at camp in the weapons room, Mace distributed night-vision goggles to fourteen of the Rangers. The camp possessed seventeen infra-red binoculars in all, complete with adjustable head straps. The last three went to Jade, Roger and Woody, who guarded three sides of the camp from rooftop. Expecting a night assault, he gave loose instructions. With the back wall being the most vulnerable, they expected the largest concentration of bikers to come at them from that quadrant.