Off the Wagon (Users #2) (10 page)

Barber came at Carter with his signature move, the double thrust of his spikes, but Carter knew the boy’s fighting style all too well, and easily ducked, rolled, and took Barber’s legs out from under him. Carter came up out of the roll and jumped back to his feet. Barber continued his offense with, what was for Carter, his easily predictable arsenal, and Carter proceeded to dodge each attempt of attack

“Fight back!” Frank’s yell echoed off the blank walls of the warehouse. “You’ve got only two options. Kill Barber and you may survive, or die at his hands. I don’t care which.”

Barber charged at him again and Carter, ever so carefully not to completely damage him, tossed the boy out the open door and down the small flight of stairs.

“How about a third option?” Carter proposed, and the panel covering the door to the warehouse suddenly blew apart, sending chunks of shrapnel zipping across the assembly line floor.

Smoke billowed from the explosion, and in through the dark gray cloud, came the awaiting Users from outside. The entire compound had arrived in force, to have Carter’s back and save Barber from his fate. Unbeknownst to their most devious host, the compound’s Viewers had countered Frank’s Viewers and were able to see through his rouse. Then the compound’s Blinders covered their tracks as they waited outside the warehouse for the perfect moment to burst in at Carter’s defense. Trying to figure out whose Blinder’s and whose Viewers were countering whose, was enough to give Carter a headache. All he needed to know is that his friends were there when he needed them, and they had arrived right on time.

“What-what’s going on?” Frank asked in astonishment.

“We’ve got Blinders, Viewers, and Sniffers of our own, you arrogant prick.” Carter punched Frank right in the nose, sending him reeling back.

Frank grabbed at his face with one hand while posting out the other against the wall, to stagnate his fall.

“My nose! You broke my fucking nose!” Frank exclaimed incredulously.

Carter knew his blow had done major damage, but didn’t dare look up enough to verify. He kept his eyes level to his adversary’s shoulders so as not to make direct eye contact.

“Didn’t your indentured servants see that one coming?” Carter taunted. “Huh, I guess that’s what you get for relying on junkie slave labor for your dirty work.”

“Why you…” Frank charged at Carter.

He collided with Carter so hard they rolled over one another to the opposite wall of the small office. Frank landed on top, pinning Carter between the wall and the floor, and began raining down punches. Definitely being the more battle experienced of the two, Carter took the beating, stretched out his arm towards Frank’s head, opened his hand and blasted him right in the face with his fire. Frank stumbled back off of Carter, screaming.

Carter quickly jumped up and threw one good punch to the fleshy part of his throat.

Frank fell back gasping for air, gripping his crushed windpipe with both hands. Carter forgot where he was for a moment and chuckled. Frank looked like he were choking himself, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the pathetic man’s expense. Frank coughed and gagged, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he eventually passed out from what Carter assumed was lack of air. Either that, or he had just killed the man; he didn’t much care which one.

A well aimed spike snapped him back to reality. Carter caught Barber’s fist at the last second, just before the spike drove into Carter’s eye. He found himself staring down the pointed end of one of Barber’s bony spikes, the tip barely an inch from his retina.

“Barber! Snap out of it!” Carter said. “I’m not your enemy.”

Carter shoved Barber back, again careful not to injure him too badly, but with enough force that he fell to the ground with a loud thud.

*****

Meanwhile, the warehouse floor was an all out war zone. The women working the line ran naked from the building and out into the night.

“Let them go! Our beef is not with them.” Walt instructed.

Walt led the way with his shotgun blazing. Using his training in the military, he barked orders out to his team.

“I want Movers spread out blocking the bullets. I want Enforcers on our right flank and I want Screamers over on our left.”

The compound’s Users used the element of surprise to their advantage. Only Walt was armed with a weapon, the rest used their powers to plow through the guards at the front of the building, but those guards were only mere humans and easily overcome.

Reinforcements soon replaced those that had fallen. Only this time the guards were Users of all sorts, they came running out from the back room, armed with guns, and powers of their own. Nearly fifty Users faced off against the Users from the compound.

“Get back!” Vince yelled as he put an arm in front of Walt, and a bullet ricocheted right before Walt’s eyes off the invisible wall Vince created with his mover powers.

“Thanks,” Walt said and he fired off a shot of his own in retaliation.

“No problem.” Vince lifted a section from the middle of the assembly line and threw it across the room and the User who had fired the shot on Walt, crushing the man between the heavy machinery and the wall.

The building shook from the powerful blast as a ton of stainless steel crashed into the building’s outer wall.

At Vince’s side as always was Cody, a Changer, and Vince’s closest friend. Walt could only watch as the pair worked in tandem. First Vince froze a bullet in midair. Then Cody reached out and grabbed it, squeezed it between his palms, and flattened it out into a circular blade as thin as a sheet of paper. Cody tossed it to Vince who caught it with his mind and sent it spinning around the room like a blade in a high powered saw. Vince merely waved his hands to send the blade in a zigzagging dance of death. Four User’s in all black lined up with their guns aimed at Vince, Cody, and Walt, and all four fell as the spinning blade ran right through their throats, one by one, lopping their heads off.

*****

A hail of gun fire resounded just on the other side of the wall behind Carter. He wanted to run out and help his friends, taking Frank’s Users from behind with a ring of fire, but he had his hands full keeping Barber at bay. The two had tangled more than once during their days at the compound, and though Carter’s extensive knowledge of Barber’s fighting style was to his advantage, the young man was so enraged with the thoughts of hatred implanted in his head by Frank that Carter had a hard time not hurting Barber while still protecting himself.

Carter threw down a wall of flames between him and Barber in an effort to stay his attack long enough for him to manufacture some semblance of a defensive plan against the wild swings Barber was throwing. Barber, seemingly unafraid of the flames, leapt right through the dancing fire.

“Damn it,” Carter said upon seeing Barber coming through the fire. “Barber please. Get a hold of yourself. It’s me.”

Carter ducked under a roundhouse swing that would have surely driven Barber’s spike through his skull. Every minute Barber remained under Frank’s spell was another minute that Barber came closer to killing a friend. It seemed no matter what Carter did, no matter how many times he called to Barber, no matter how many punches he dodged, he just couldn’t get through to him.

Carter backed away as Barber approached, and tripped over Frank’s unconscious body lying on the floor. He fell, hitting the concrete floor hard on his back, and knocking the wind from his lungs. Barber growled and descended on him. Dual spikes plummeted down at Carter’s face. He would never be able to dodge them both. He was going to be lobotomized.

*****

Frank’s Users, seeing their bullets were having little effect, threw down their guns and gave the compound’s Users a taste of their own medicine. It was powers against powers. Screamers facing off against Screamers, Movers against Movers, Enforcers against Enforcers, and every combination in between. One of Frank’s Screamers, dressed in all black, unleashed a howl so loud Walt could literally see the sound wave as the reverberation from the man’s scream threw bottles of Pow from the assembly line, picked up boxes from the floor, and blew up the head of one unlucky Enforcer like a squeezed grape. Blood and gore and fragments of broken skull showered Walt as the wave hit him and blew him back.

Evan, a lanky Mover from the compound, was lucky enough to be standing outside the reach of the Screamers wave of sound. Evan spread his arms wide before clapping his hands together with a loud slap, picking up two crates, one from each side, and sandwiching the Screamer between the projectiles. The wood from the crates exploded with the force of Evan’s powers. The Screamer, his arms and legs contorted from the multiple broken bones he had just endured, collapsed to the floor.

“Walt!” Evan rushed over to help Walt back to his feet. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be all right,” Walt said.

“You look like hell,” Evan said. “You may want to stay out of the fight. I don’t know what good a Sniffer is going to do against Screamers and Movers this powerful. That Screamer killed one of our Enforcers. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“This is my fight and I’ll fight it to the end.” Walt scooped up his shotgun. “Just keep moving forward. Barber and Carter are in the back room. We need to reach them before it is too late.”

“Too late for what?” Evan asked.

“Get me to that room.” Was all that Walt would offer.

Evan nodded. Together they ran the gauntlet of mini battles being fought all around them. Evan deftly deflecting everything that was thrown at them. One of Frank’s Enforcers stepped out to block their path, but using just his mind, Evan lifted the much larger man from his feet, and sent him flying across the room.

“We’re almost there,” Evan said as they approached the now closed door. Through the window, they could clearly make out Barber standing over someone, but Carter was nowhere in sight. Walt took that as a bad sign and made a mad dash for the door. Then two Users dressed in all black stepped out from behind the massive vats that cooked the Pow, to block the door.

“Go,” Evan said. “I’ve got this.”

Evan squared up against the pair, and engaged both at the same time with his incredible reach. Evan was wiry, but with so much length and his powers behind his swing, he still packed one hell of a punch. The man on his left could confirm the fact as Evan hit him with a quick jab to the face, that although Evan’s fist never connected, his Mover powers created a boxing glove of powers around each hand that devastated their target.

“Go!” Evan yelled again as he engaged the second man.

Walt side stepped to avoid a right hook from the second man, and slid past as Evan caught the punch right in the kisser. Blood spurted from Evan’s mouth as he fell back. Walt wanted to turn back to aid his friend, but knew that he had two more in need of his help just beyond the door. Walt burst through the door, slamming it behind him.

*****

“Barber no!” Carter heard Walt shout.

Barber froze, his spike’s tip less than a hair’s thickness from driving it into Carter’s eye. A gleam of recognition shown in Barber’s glossy eyes for a split second, but was gone almost immediately; replaced once again by the glazed over look from before. Carter could see there was no one home. Barber was running on autopilot, a robot, incapable of controlling his own body’s actions.

But Barber’s split second hesitation had bought Carter the time he needed. Up until that point he had refused to hurt the boy, but if he didn’t take Barber out of the fight, he was without a doubt going to kill Carter. He slapped aside the spike and with as much force as he could muster, Carter lit his face on fire, and threw a flaming head butt that landed right on the bridge of Barber’s nose. The young man rolled to his side gripping his broken nose.

“Walt!” Carter cried for help. “Walt! Barber’s been pushed, but he recognized your voice. I saw it in his eyes. He recognized your voice.”

“Then he just needs a reminder of who he really is and a little fight left in him to defeat the push,” Walt said.

Barber was up on his feet again, but his forehead and nose were pink and white flakes of skin ringed the edges of his face where the burnt skin had been peeled back. The poor kid’s normally spiky blond hair was singed and matted across the front where the flames had melted his hair.

“Barber, it’s me. It’s Walt.” Walt stepped in front of Carter and held out both hands in front of him to try and calm Barber. “You’ve got to fight it.”

“Get out of my way.” Barber spoke for the first time since he had been put under the trance.

“You don’t want to do this. We’re your friends,” Walt said, but Barber marched forward with his lips turned down in a grimace and a hateful glare in his eyes.

“Move old man or I’m going to hurt you,” Barber said.

“You won’t. You’re not yourself,” Walt said. “Fight damn it! Fight!” Walt screamed as Barber leapt over Frank’s unconscious body, sailed through the air, and plunged both spikes into Walt’s chest.

“No!” Carter howled as the spikes were driven clear through Walt, out the old man’s back, and into his own chest.

“Ught.” Walt tried to speak, but the spikes must have penetrated his lungs, because all that came out was a weak grunt.