by J C Walsh
The road opens to recreational areas, which are pretty much fissure laden grounds with surging lava peeking through the cracks. Construction sites where the foundations of the buildings are concreted flesh, it’s writhing and moaning. The beams that make up the buildings are elongated bones that belong to giants instead of the usual humans.
Ahead, a shimmering wall stretches across the horizon. Behind it, coming into view, is a steel building with three smoke stacks sticking from its roof. Ashen grey smoke rises out of the stacks. It blinks in and out of existence. If I keep my eyes still, the building is solid.
It’s the Dead One’s lair, the final one to hold the race to Death Highway. This is it.
All we must do to get there is drive through hundreds of suicidal cultists.
13.
It almost seemed it would work. The bodies bounce off our cars as we run down the fanatics. The sound of them, when hit, makes me shudder. Their skin is black like soot. I notice the crazed symbols carved into their bodies; they are red and raw. Their bodies are made of nothing when we hit them. They nearly explode on impact. My windshield wiper blades wipe away the blood. It takes forever; they keep coming.
“This is pointless.”
Midnight Beauty rocks back and forth. The ones that don’t die are getting impatient and angry. They start attacking the car. I barely see the others in my rearview mirror, numerous cultists block my view.
“This is getting us nowhere,” I say.
We decided to stay single file again; it seemed an easier way to keep an eye on each other. But I can’t tell what is safe for us.
“Let me try. There are a lot of them., I don’t know if I can hold them off for too long but maybe just long enough to get through.”
Just like earlier with the ape creatures, the Scarred One flicks his wrist, a bunch of the soot cultists separate, like he is parting the red sea. Some fall back in with the larger crowd; other bodies can’t handle the strength of the invisible force and explode the moment The Scarred One unleashes the power. We now have a clear road. I can feel him straining against the bodies as they pile up on each other to fight the invisible force field.
“Go now!”
I shift gears; Midnight Beauty leaps forward. I press on the gas, and I hear the others rev up their cars. They are right behind me as I speed through the path the Scarred One has created for us. He’s sweating, which makes me sweat. My eyes are blurry with fatigue. The few that escape meet my front bumper; my car thumps as I run over another. The same is happening with the crew; here and there a cultist breaks the hold and kills itself by running into their cars.
Gunfire erupts, coming from Alex’s car. The Scarred One is getting weaker.
“Come on, hold on longer,” I say, gritting my teeth. I try to focus my mind, maybe help give him some strength. I had to break the hold when a blackened fist smashes my driver side window. I fire shots into his chest, shattering the window as well. I close my eyes; some glass cuts my face. They are reaching for me through the window. I grab the small axe I keep on my seat, just in case, and hack away at their hands. They don’t pull back. They try to attack with their bloody stumps.
“I got another idea,” The scarred one says. I feel his mind, the right side of my brain, shift. The shield completely weakens. They rush in; bodies collide with metal, denting the doors. They fall over from purposely smashing their heads. Others run over the falling, stomping them as they go.
I hear the ground erupt to the right, where the fissures are. Scarred One splits the ground open even more; lava spills out, a river of it slowly heads our way. The cultists cheer, a large portion of them run towards the hot liquid. They scream in joy as they jump into it, obliterating their bodies.
Our cars shake back and forth as the mob runs by the cars. Some jump over, their feet padding my roof. I clench my jaw as they dent the hood.
“Some are still remaining.”
They are in front of the Dead One’s lair. Now that we are closer, the gray ash coming out of the stacks looks like screaming faces. I charge the car into the small group of cultists who have no interest in the lava bath.
I run the car into the group in front, stopping me short. Their bodies are trapped under the car as I keep pressing the accelerator; the tires burn into their bodies. Screw this. I get out of the car, hatchet in hand and start chopping through the remaining ones, piece by piece.
Laura is beside me, blasting gun fire into the faces of the ones nearby, fighting off others in close combat with a machete blade. Then Alex, Will, and Jack are in the mix. More gun fire, body parts embracing blade, their blood burns when it hits me. I don’t care; nothing is stopping me, stopping us.
There is nothing left to kill. The screams in the air are followed by sizzling flesh. There’s a trail of bodies in our wake. The Scarred One moves them with our mind, pushing the bodies aside and out of the path to clear the way for good this time.
We are all breathing heavy, battle lust in our faces. We don’t need to say anything; it’s done. It’s time. We get in our cars and drive toward the warehouse to face the Dead One.
We race through the industrial area. It may be different from all the others, different buildings and layout of the area. But where we are going, the meeting place will always be the same. Even if we don’t know where to go, the world is ever shifting; it will lead us to our destination.
The entrance to the Warehouse is a gaping mouth; we drive into the darkness. The area is huge. Stairs along all sides of the building lead up to walkways above our heads. There’s another garage door up ahead. We stop our cars and get out. This is the farthest we can go.
The place fills with dark figures, followers of The Dead One. On the stairs, the walkway, they fill the space around us. Their maddening whispers fill the large space like the droning of bees. It’s almost in my head. I can see it bothering the others. Eyes of fire appear in the darkness ahead. I am prepared to see the true form of the Dead One, not of the human we dealt with years ago. Instead, the owner of those eyes steps out. His face is fissured like the wasteland we had driven through. The cracks light up with the lava surging through him. He’s wearing a leather jacket that looks super imposed onto his fiery body. His beer belly sticks out like a molten rock. In his hand, there is a long chain with a hook that’s on fire.
“Come on, Randy. Want to go a few rounds? For old time sakes.”
Cody. My heart drops. His face appears in my mind again, the look of helplessness as I tried to save him.
“I don’t like him,” The Scarred One says, “I know I did bad things to you out of desperation, but your friend here, he’s a different type of evil. He loves it here. You shouldn’t feel bad for someone who burns for destruction.”
“You’re right,” I say.
Cody swings his chain, faster and faster. I told the others to stand back. The dark figures’ whispering is faster. I clench my right hand, preparing for the attack.
“STOP!”
The place trembles. A figure, standing over seven feet tall, steps out of the shadows. His chiseled body is shirtless; it’s covered with the faces of the damned; they moan in torment. He’s still wearing jeans. They are ripped; the holes showing the slick flesh underneath. He’s almost done with his transformation with this world. A tusk curls out from his forehead, bends back almost to the back of his head. His beady eyes are a dead yellow; his jaw is long when it opens, taking form like the other beings. His tattoos are sizzling. Laura grabs my arm in fear; she’s trembling.
“Are you here for Death Highway?” he asks in a booming voice.
I step forward. “You know we are.”
He nods. We wait for what he’s going to say next.
“Then Death Highway you will race.”
The dark figures whisper in excitement.
“Race rules,” The Dead One continues, “Elimination circuit.”
Every being in the building goes nuts, talking amongst themselves in a fast speech. They are placing their bets.
Here we go.
“Only one can cross Death Highway. Only one.” He says this with determination in his voice. “Stipulation. Gauntlet rules. There will be others you have to battle that will try and stop you. It’s a free for all.”
Collective gasps.
“Do you accept?”
I look to my crew. It was inevitable. They knew it, we all knew it. Something like this would happen. Laura’s fingers cross with mine as she holds my hand. Will nods to me, then Alex, and Jack.
“Yes,” I say, “We accept.”
PART THREE
DEATH HIGHWAY
14.
There it is. I am finally here. We are finally here. Death Highway. I’ve waited so long, gone through hell and back to face this legend, to drive down it’s eternal asphalt to find a means to an end for all of this. For me. For us. Cars idle with bated breath, waiting for the go ahead. I grip my steering wheel, knuckles popping with anxiety. I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans, not wanting them to slip off the steering wheel at the wrong moment.
The red sky is alive with a light show, lighting the color of veins scatters across the horizon. There are cracks in the sky. They spread across like a damaged sheet of glass about to collapse at any moment. The weight of the Universe is getting heavier. The mountains seem to close in slowly like glaciers. Most of the land at the starting point is the barren waste of nuclear sand. I can’t even begin to imagine what gauntlet of inhabitants and forces of nature we’ll have to face here.
Our cars are lined up at the starting line in this order: I’m in front, Cody’s car to my right, Laura behind me, and Jack’s car is next to her. In the rear, Alex and Will.
“Hey, Will,” Alex’s voice speaks over the radio.
“Yeah?”
“We’re in the rear.”
“Ha! Good one.”
Their laughter fills my car. It eases my already tense shoulders, and the tightness in my neck. I can’t help but smile. The crew is together again. Even if Cody is a murdering monster made of burning cinders, it wouldn’t feel complete without him here at the starting line, right up front with me. It’s always been the two of us in the lead. The good old days, kind of. I’m aware that it might have to come down to killing my friends, and the love of my life, to cross the finish line. Maybe it will be my life that ends instead and one of them will win; it’s a worthy sacrifice if one of them can change things for the better. If it comes to that, I’m ok with it; I’ve made my peace.
“I’m going to end you, Jones,” Cody’s voice, guttural and raw threatens over the radio.
I’ve had enough battle of words. I respond with the revving of Midnight Beauty’s engine and flash him a shit eating grin. He responds back by accelerating his Pontiac GTO, a fire breathing dragon. The engine block sticking out of the hood proves that when the flames burst from the pipes. His entire car is fire, the small bluish flames lap on the surface.
The dark figures cheer, unable to contain their excitement any longer. The loud speakers crackle, a charismatic voice bellows from them, getting the crowd even more riled up. Their feet pummel the ground, the stairs and the overhead walkways. Their hands slap crazily on the railings, a chaotic tribal percussion mixed with chants and screaming. The energy is electric and terrifying. Alex, Will, and even Jack are revving their engines, keeping the momentum going.
I look in the rearview mirror at Laura behind me; our eyes lock. We hold each other in our gazes. I can see the nervousness in her face, but she’s like the rest of us; once this thing starts, we will become very different people. We are competitive and, yes, even a little blood thirsty.
Seconds bleed out; the anticipation is building.
The horn wails. Immediately following its cry, the roar of the crowd is muffled by the union of screeching tires all going at the same time. For a second, I couldn’t see anyone behind me because of all the smoke. My car shoots forward onto Death Highway, Cody’s right next to me, going neck and neck. The others aren’t too far behind. How do we go about this? Should I start shooting at them first? No, I’m not ready for it to come down to that. If there are others about to join the party, then it’s best to let things play out from there. Opportunity provides entry.
Besides, I still have Cody to deal with.
As if on cue, just as he crosses my thoughts, he swipes his car into mine. The flames roll off and transfer onto my car; they go out quickly. He’s playing. He’s testing the waters to determine which one of us is capable of what. I’ll bite. I cut the wheel hard in his direction; our cars collide. He loses control and veers off the road and onto the ashen sand. The sand kicks up in clouds as he regains his control; the intense horsepower of his vehicle allows him to quickly catch up.
“You’re quiet.”
“Yes.” The Scarred One replies.
“What’s up with that?”
“Waiting. And enjoying the scenery. I am going to miss this place.”
I don’t say anything. I can feel his sorrow; he can feel my regret. But we both have an understanding; there’s no other choice.
We come up to a sign that reads: HUNTING GROUND
“What’s the hunting ground?”
“More hogs, and the things that poach them.”
As the Scarred One says that, the herd seems to come out of nowhere as they run alongside the road, but not going into it. They stay on the sand, legs pumping fast, keeping up with our vehicles.
In the distance, other vehicles make their way across the land, heading towards the herd. The mutant hogs sense danger; they are so frightened that they enter the road, trying squeeze in with our cars. They grow agitated and fearful. They start attacking the cars, throwing their many tusked heads from side to side, trying to swipe the cars. One managed to connect with Alex’s car, hitting the left fender; he swerves, brakes, and then regains control.
“I hate these things!” Alex’s window rolls down, his arms sticks out, automatic gunfire erupts taking out the hog that attacked him. He continues to shoot any of them within range. Will joins the fight, shots blast from the hand gun he is wielding.
I’m about to pump bullets into the hog that’s pursuing me when one of the other vehicles pulls up. A net shoots out from a device attached to the back of the pickup truck and scoops up the animal. It squeals as whatever the material the net is made from singes and cuts into the flesh. It smells of bad meat being cured. The device drops the trapped animal; it lands hard in the cab. The captor peers at me; its head is small with two beady black eyes, and no mouth. It’s head splits apart sideways revealing its mouth; it screeches into the sky.
“What’s it pissed about? Because I’m messing with its food or because we are on Death Highway?
“Both.” The Scarred One replies.
“That’s great.” I swerve into the monster truck, a desperate attempt to run the vehicle into the rock lodged in the sand. It easily jumps off it like the rock is a ramp. It lands, the suspension squeaks, and the truck returns to its position at my side.
It’s too late when I notice the device that harnessed the net is now loaded with a harpoon. I move quickly, shifting gears to gain speed. The harpoon gun fires; the point lodges into the body of my car just past the door. That could’ve been me.
The truck pulls, trying to bring my car into the desert with it. I cut the wheel the other direction. While we are having our tug of war, more gunfire. Laura is fighting off another monster truck of these creatures. She had opened fire on them the moment they got close to her. The windshield of that truck is splattered with green blood as the bullets riddle the driver’s body. The truck cuts hard and tips over; the creature in the back flies and does a somersault on the asphalt only to get hit by the purple Cuda. It lays, unmoving, off the side of the road.
The creature in the pickup that’s attached to Midnight Beauty screeches in anger, and throws his scaly arms in the air, frustrated. He begins climbing down the metal wire, closing the distance between our vehicles quickly. He reaches for my steering wheel. I cut
it toward the truck, catching the driver off guard, and slamming the reptilian being into the truck, crushing its body between both vehicles. It doesn’t shake him off. Using my right hand, I grab the snub nose and empty all six bullets into its mouth, or head, or whatever it is before it clamps on my face. It loses its grip and falls beneath my wheels. There’s the sound of twisting metal. The harpoon gun comes loose; the stand and the base pull from the cab. The momentum releases the truck with such force the driver does not have time to jump the next rock rushing towards it. The vehicle flips over and explodes in a fireball of smoke.
There’s not enough time to warn the others about the large piece of equipment trailing behind me, being pulled by the harpoon that is still attached to my car. I try to retain control as it bounces around from side to side, shifting the car with it. I only hope whoever is behind me has seen the whole thing take place and is wise to keep a safe distance.
“Allow me.”
The scars writhe and squirm as The Scarred One calls upon the power. Not much, not wanting to exert himself, just enough for what he needs to do. The harpoon wiggles and then pulls free. The harpoon gun and its station bounce once on the asphalt. The Scarred One moves it toward the few hogs that are left and takes them out. They go down like bowling balls, and then the harpoon stand slams the remaining trucks. The imaginary hand lunges the harpoon into the driver. The truck flips over, taking out the two drivers behind it.
Cody scorches one near him; the flames jump from his car and cover the truck. The creatures are screeching; the sound cuts off when the vehicle finally explodes.
“There ya go,” he says over the radio, “I contributed to the team.”
Alex, Will, and Laura leave a trail behind them of smoldering trucks and bullet riddled mutant hogs. Most of the creatures have been killed or have moved on. The same with the drivers. They end their pursuit of the beasts and of them, as well.