by Joseph Storm
“We don’t have a moment to give,” Gunner replied. “They’ll be on us any second.”
“Be respectful,” Becky chimed in. “Let him have closure.”
“I’m ok,” Father Tyme responded. He zeroed in on the stone cross, which burst through the edge of the standing wreckage. “The cross stands...like a monument to hope.”
“Hope. I’ve heard that word a lot these days...I don’t believe in it anymore,” Joe Striker said.
“Don’t confuse the two, son. The hope I speak of is not the word which comes from a politician’s mouth...or other orifices.”
All of a sudden, the thumping sound of heavy, steel trucks, and large tires echoed in the distance. They were just minutes away.
“Speaking of assholes...they’re back,” Gunner said.
“What do we do?” Becky asked.
“We need to head for the cover of the forest again,” Striker replied. “It’s the only place that’s still free...for the moment, at least.”
“But how do we get there? On foot? They will have us in cuffs by then!” Becky asked in a manner of worry.
“On foot, no,” Father Tyme said, as he thought deeply. “But on wheels...”
“You have a car?” Striker asked.
“The pope-mobil?” Gunner chimed in.
“Not quite as bullet-proof...or well made,” Father Tyme said. He quickly led them to a small house located next to the church, which had a garage. He opened the door, revealing an old, beat-up Pinto.
“Umm...the 70’s called...they want their Pinto back,” Gunner quipped.
“Now, I know this isn’t perfection...but it’s sturdy and sleek...much like the horse it was named after,” Father Tyme added.
“If the horse looked anything like that...I would have shot it...not named a carline after it,” Gunner replied.
“Right now...anything with a motor and wheels looks like gold to me,” Striker responded. “Keys,” he said. Father Tyme reached above the upper-right tire, revealing a hidden set. He tossed them to Striker. Joe got in the driver’s seat, Becky in the passenger seat, with Gunner and Father Tyme in the back.
Striker started the engine. The loud, rusty engine took a minute to turn over. When it did finally catch, it spit a plume of grayish smoke into the air.
“Be gentle with her,” Father Tyme said. “It was a donation.”
Gunner gave him a look of insanity, as he was quickly distracted by a bag, which housed a bottle of wine. “Was this a donation as well?”
“That is for the holy communion.”
“Well...I’m donating it to my...I mean, our cause now,” he said.
Joe Striker shifted the car into drive, peeling from the garage. They merged with two oncoming government trucks, carrying groups of elite guard. The two vehicles were about to collide, as Striker jammed on the brakes. The leading truck stopped swiftly. It was mere inches from the Pinto.
“Why did you stop?” Becky asked.
“Because...the woods are that way,” he said, pointing towards the two trucks, blocking the path forward.
“What the hell is he doing?” Commander Sin yelled from the second vehicle. “Plow them off the road!”
Striker put the car in reverse, turning it around to face the truck head on.
“Kid...I always admire balls...but insanity is nothing to brag about,” Gunner proclaimed.
“There’s one way out of here...and they currently occupy it,” Joe said, revving the gas.
“Those trucks can destroy us,” Becky pleaded.
“Not if they flinch first,” he said, putting the car in drive. He raced directly towards the imposing government vehicle.
The shocked guard driver froze in silence, unsure of which move to make. He started to race forward, realizing that the pinto was not going to budge. Out of pure reaction, he jerked the wheel moments before the two collided. Truck number one turned off the road, crashing through the pile of church ashes. The vehicle spilled down into the depths of the crypt’s chasm.
Commander Xavier Sin watched from the passenger seat of the second truck. The oncoming Pinto sped forward, as the guard driver watched in fear. Commander Sin hit him on the back of the head, “They don’t stand a chance against us! Drive, you damned coward!”
Having just witnessed the destruction of his brethren, the shaken driver followed orders. He raced toward the Pinto with a glimmer of apprehension in his eyes.
“If they don’t move...I’m sorry,” Striker yelled out. He shut his eyes, along with the three others in the car, not willing to back down.
The two vehicles were inches from a deadly collision. The guard member panicked at the last moment, losing the game of chicken. He veered from the path of the smaller Pinto.
“You coward!” Xavier yelled, as veins popped from his neck. The truck came to an abrupt stop. He reached over, opened the driver’s door, and tossed the guard member to the asphalt. “Cowards have no place in this truck,” he yelled, crawling into the driver’s seat. The door was shut as he backed over the guard-member with the heavy tires. He crushed the man’s skull, breaking his face into pieces.
The Pinto sped down the road. Xavier Sin put the truck in drive, flooring the gas to its very limit.
“They’re coming again!” Becky yelled, as her eyes were pinned on the rearview mirror. “Fast! Way faster than us...to be exact.”
“This thing only does eighty-five!” Striker yelled. “I’m flooring it!”
Xavier smiled, knowing that his powerful truck was capable of speeds up to 200 miles per hour. In just moments, he was bumping Striker’s car, trying to knock it off the road. He slowed down his speed, then quickly accelerated, plunging into the backside of the old Pinto. It tore the back bumper off, crushing it beneath the truck’s wheels.
The car’s tail swerved like a fish’s backside. Striker used his entire strength to steady the car from veering off the road into a tree. “Goodbye, old friend,” Father Tyme said.
“Don’t these tin cans explode when hit from the back?” Gunner asked Striker.
“I don’t know...nor do I want to,” Striker answered.
“That wasn’t really a question...it was a warning,” Gunner said, not helping the situation.
Becky looked back into the rearview mirror, seeing Xavier slow his speed again. “He’s slowing again!”
Joe Striker had to think fast. He was approaching a dead end, which began forestland for miles. However, he didn’t realize that beyond the grouping of trees was a section of the Potomac River, called Great Falls. It was a hellish stretch of water that they would have to cross.
He knew that at the speed which the car was traveling, its shoddy tires and damaged back end couldn’t handle such a quick stop. The government truck at his heels would compact it into a tree. It appeared that there was no longer any choice.
“We need to stop!” Becky said.
“Kid...I don’t normally agree with her...but...the chick has a painfully obvious point.”
Commander Xavier jammed his foot on the gas. He peeled the truck’s thick tires into the pavement, releasing a loud screech, propelling him forward at blazing speed.
“Buckle up,” Joe said, as Becky snapped her seatbelt, closing her eyes. Striker placed his foot even further down on the gas, speeding towards the trees. He turned at the last moment away from a large poplar. The Pinto busted through an area of smaller, lighter, new growth. It plowed the vegetation down to the ground.
Xavier was so focused on delivering the Pinto its last death blow, he was unprepared for the coming surprise. As Joe Striker veered from the path, the large truck smashed into a thick, poplar trunk with protruding branches. One long, sharp appendage pierced the window, stopping before it could remove the commander’s one working eye.
Smoke plumed into the air, as the engine continued to roar. The group of elite guard members spilled around in the back. They heard the commander unleash his frustration. “Impossible!” he yelled, shaking his fists in the air.
Xavier Sin exited the vehicle, running after the Pinto on foot. The other guards exited the truck, following him a short distance to the river’s edge. They knew that there would be no escape route for the fugitives.
“I don’t see them anymore! We’re safe!” Becky yelled, as Striker jammed on his brakes, coming to the river’s edge.
“Or maybe not,” Becky added, looking at the unexpected detour in front of her.
“I must have forgotten to mention this,” Father Tyme said in embarrassment. “With age...comes forgetfulness.”
“Here they come...baring gifts we don’t want,” Gunner said, focusing on the arrival of Xavier and his force, holding their ammo-filled weapons.
Xavier and the others surrounded the car with their guns drawn. “It’s over!” he yelled. “Surrender...and we’ll show you mercy.”
Striker rolled the window down. “The same mercy my wife was shown?”
“No...the mercy I showed your son.”
Joe Striker cringed. “Where is he...you son of a bitch!”
“Come out peacefully, and you’ll be reunited. Pledge your loyalty...hand over the chip, and all will be forgiven. I underestimated your ability, Striker...one which I see in the boy. Join him...join us...and we can help him reach his full potential.”
“I’ll join him,” Joe said. “On my terms,” he demanded.
“And what terms would those be?”
“We walk free.”
“No one is free...you and the boy are no exception.”
“I’m not finished with my negotiation. We walk free...after I kill you...like you killed my wife.”
“Tempting...but I’ll have to pass. If you won’t join us...then what will you do? Plunge to your death...drown? You survive the falls. There is no choice.”
Joe Striker thought deep and hard about his next move. He looked back at Father Tyme, who smiled at him, knowing what was on his mind.
Striker stuck his head out the window again, saying, “ A friend of mine once told me...there’s always a choice,” he confidently said, returning his attention into the car. “Roll down the windows...and get ready to duck.”
“Kid! Have you lost your mind? Even I wouldn’t do that!” Gunner said.
Striker turned to Becky, “If there were any other way...I’d take it.”
“Your son deserves better than them...go for it.”
Striker nodded, saying, “Father...it’s probably time to pray.”
“Already on it,” he said, as he folded his hands in a praying motion. Gunner quietly joined Tyme, causing Francis to peer over at him.
“Don’t say a word,” he demanded.
Joe revved the gas, as Commander Sin looked on in disbelief. “He’ll never do it. It’s suicide.”
The car was put into reverse, nearly running Xavier to the ground. They dove out of the way, as Striker shifted the car into drive, spinning the tires with fury. By the time the guards were on their feet, the Pinto raced into the roaring rapids towards the Great Falls of the Potomac.
The car flew off the rocky bank of the Potomac River. It spilled into the water, being ferried down stream by the swift moving current. The heavy clunker floated for a few moments, taking on water dangerously fast.
“The falls are coming up...we need to get out before we either sink...or go over! Neither of them is an option!” Joe said.
Water poured into every hole, edge, and opening of the car. Striker climbed out the window, getting to the roof. He looked over the scene, seeing a massive stretch of metamorphic rocks approaching rapidly. The craggy, sharp mounds of rock stretched across the wide river, creating a series of rushing waterfalls with a 20 foot drop. The swirling whirlpools, and hardened earth would certainly spell danger for anyone who slid down it. However, it wasn’t only the falls, which created the problem. If they didn’t jump ship before they reached the beginning rapids, they would not be able to free themselves from the current. It would either suck them into its rocky bowels, or trap them within a swift whirlpool chasm.
Striker reached his hand into the two-doored car. He motioned for Becky to take his help. “Now!”
“Get the father out first!” she yelled.
“You first!”
She ignored Joe’s pleas, pulling the driver’s seat forward. Striker pulled the 69 year-old priest to the top of the roof. “Wait here!” Joe said, as Father Tyme looked around wondering, Where else would I go?”
Before Joe could return to help Becky, Gunner crawled from the car. He was half way out, when he yelled, “Wait,” climbing back inside.
“You want to stay?” Striker asked.
Gunner reached into the back seat, retrieving the bottle of wine. He crawled back out onto the car’s roof, as Striker yanked him out. Seeing him grasp the bottle of wine, Joe gave him a dirty look.
“For the holy communion!”
All of a sudden, Striker fell to the ground, as they hit their first series of rapids. “Take the father...it’s your only chance!” Striker yelled to Gunner, who stuck the bottle of wine in the waistband of his pants, and grabbed Father Tyme.
“Can you swim?” Gunner asked.
“I’m old, son...not dead,” the father said, as the two jumped into the water. Gunner gripped Francis Tyme around the neck, fighting the currents to the shoreline.
Joe turned his attention back towards Becky, who was in process of crawling from the passenger window. The waterline was already waste deep. He went to go help her, as the Pinto smashed into its first rock, spinning the car in a 360 degree twirl.
Becky screamed, as she fell into the treacherous waters. She gripped the rearview mirror, hanging on with every ounce of strength in her body. The current had reached a fervent pitch, producing such power that it flirted with ripping her arm from its socket. “I can’t hold on anymore,” she screamed, as each finger loosened its grip.
“I’m not losing another one!” Joe Striker yelled, as he dove to the car’s edge, lunging his arm into the water. His fist caught her wrist, as she had completely become separated from the car. Only Joe’s strength stopped Becky from being swallowed into the powerful current.
Striker looked towards the incoming falls. He had realized that there wasn’t time left, straining every muscle in his body. Joe pulled Becky back onto the roof of the car. The exhausted girl gripped him in a powerful hug, trying to catch her breath. “It’s too late,” she said. “We’ll never survive that fall.”
Joe only had a moment to figure it out, as an idea suddenly hit him. “We won’t...but the car might,” he said, looking down into the soaked interior. “Climb back in!”
“It’s nearly underwater!”
Having no time for debate, Striker gripped the side of the rusty Pinto, using the current to his advantage. He allowed it to propel him feet first into the watery cavern of the front seat. Joe went under the water, sticking his face up to a small air pocket at the roof. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to ride out the fall.
Striker stuck his hand up through the window’s opening, as Becky went to take his help into the vehicle. Right before she could grip it, the car hit another rock, causing Becky to spill from the roof to the hood. She looked forward, freezing in fear, and realizing that there was no time left.
Gunner and Father Tyme ran alongside them on the edge of the shore. He tried to prepare himself for a rescue. However, Gunner knew that the chance of survival had just become next to impossible.
The car had reached the edge of the falls.
Joe Striker watched Becky hang onto the hood. He threw caution to the wind, trying to re-exit through the window. Suddenly, a massive crash busted in the front glass, letting in a rush of water. “Becky!” he yelled, realizing that there was nothing he could do. The distraught man quickly buckled his seat belt, preparing for the coming ride.
He could not see forward, though could feel everything. The car sailed over the largest flowing falls, flipping over completely onto its roof. He was completely suspended in the
air, as the car landed, crashing into a deep pool of water. It spun out of control, entering into a greater flow of rapids. The car was quickly delivered to calmer waters, sailing to its final resting place on the shore.
Gunner ran with reckless abandonment, leaping over slippery rocks upon the shoreline. He reached the car, yanking a soaked Striker from the seat. Joe had cuts on his forehead from the flying glass, but the seatbelt kept him from spilling through the front window, getting crushed underneath. He brushed off his pain, exiting the car, frantically looking for Becky.
“Where is she?” Joe asked.
“The car went over...then she disappeared!” Gunner yelled. “No one can survive that.”
Striker looked at the rapids. “Then I’ll die trying,” he said, preparing himself to jump into the water.
Gunner grabbed his arm,“Kid...it’s not gonna bring back your wife.”
Joe ignored Gunner’s plea, as he broke from the grip, diving into the water. He fought his way back into the rapids, trying to battle against the frothy push of the merciless current.
He was able to make his way to one of the rocks, crawling across its slick, slimy top, standing above it all. He looked around, “Where are you?” he called out in a panic, finding nothing in sight. Suddenly, he saw a body spit up from the trapping of an underwater whirlpool. It was clearly Becky, though she was floating face down. Her body was pressed up against one of the rocks.
Horror overtook Striker. He dove off the rock, power-swimming his way to the base of the falls, getting shoved back when he arrived. He was within an arms length of her, though didn’t have any more strength to force his way forward.
Joe extended his arm, nearly dislocating it from the socket. He used all of his might to reach her, to no avail. Every muscle in Joe’s body started to tremble. His reach started to retract backwards, as he mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.”
At that moment, Joe Striker lost his strength, letting the current carry him away. He was suddenly halted by the hands of Gunner. “Don’t quit, kid...it’s not your style,” he said, propelling Joe back into the current. He was plunged towards Becky.
Joe leapt forward, landing on her body, gripping it tightly in his arms. He pulled Becky’s face from the water, aiming it back towards the air. Next, he used his feet to push off against the rock, freeing them both from the current’s grip.