“Judging by the chain they’re forming my guess is there’s only one of us they want,” he said, quickly counting nine cops now standing in a horse shoe formation with hands resting against guns and uniforms blustering against the gust of the blades. “They’re setting up for an extraction, and doing a pretty good job I might add.” He angled his head slightly and projected his voice towards the roof. “Klementina? Aaron? You reading us at all?”
If they could hear them there was no way to tell considering the speakers kept silent, but the safer bet was the two cars were now deaf and mute, and like some demented halo the strange red warm clouds of the sky continued to swirl above the hovering aircrafts. One of the cops stepped forward from the line, the same stern face that had originally peered through John’s window, and brought his wrist up to his mouth. As his lips began to move his deep no nonsense voice bellowed from a speaker on top of the patrol car.
“This is not a negotiation, and this is not a request. My men and I are here for one reason only, and those two machines hovering behind me with very big fucking weapons ready to turn your vehicles into metallic mist should be all the reason you need to do what’s right.” His head cocked to the side and shoulders rolled back as though he were about to step in the ring. “Kidnapping a little girl comes with a whole world of trouble and we’re here to take her back. If you all want to live through the next two minutes I want those engines off and not so much as an ear muscle twitching. The welfare of the girl is all we’re concerned with here.”
He lowered his wrist and studied both vehicles as though daring a reason to prove how deadly serious he was. The sound of the choppers seemed to grow louder even though they remained in their floating position, still tilted slightly forward with front glass reflecting the blood like canopy threatening the illusion that it was in fact two red robotic eyes staring down at them.
“I don’t know much about American cops or the way they handle business,” John muttered with as little movement of his jaw as possible, “but my guess is that military muscle isn’t exactly part of the standard kidnapping arrest kit.” He watched the cop with so much to say carefully hold up two fingers and nod ever so slightly, triggering the rest of the uniforms to take a step forward. Looking into their eyes one by one he found, much to his horror, a heavy understanding of their intentions. “Turn the engine off and we’re dead.”
“Plough into a bunch of cops and try to outrun two pissed off helicopters and we’re even more dead,” Vanessa said through gritted teeth.
The uniforms were getting closer now. One by one they flicked open their holsters and thumbed the top of their weapons, a choreographed group of men trained to protect the innocent with the power of death now on display.
“Maybe we’ve been lied to,” Vanessa continued. “Maybe I was right from the beginning and you and me have gone and got conned into the kinda shit Elvis Presley himself couldn’t talk his way out of.”
“It’s a con alright, because I don’t think we’re looking at good old fashioned traffic cops.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means normal cops would’ve looked back over their shoulders by now to make sure their heads weren’t about to be sliced off. Not one of them have so much as flinched, so I’m guessing ten tons of bullets and metal breathing down their necks isn’t exactly a new experience.”
“It does seem strange they haven’t approached with questions...”
“That’s because they don’t care what we have to say.”
Sweat stung the edges of John’s eyes as he looked at her to see if she was going to turn the engine off or not, but for the moment her hands remained firmly on the wheel. Peering back through the window he saw the cops reach Klementina’s car. Two officers came to a halt at either door and raised their weapons so that they were pointed at both Aaron’s and Klementina’s heads. The remainder of the group began to confront the van. John had the sudden urge to bring the window back up but didn’t want to risk a bullet between his eyes, and so steadied his breathing and kept watching their hands.
The officer with the booming deep voice stepped up to the front of the van and placed his spare hand onto the bonnet. Thanks to the low thunder of the helicopter blades it was the easiest way to tell if the engine had been disengaged, and his discovery was not one of joy.
“Turn off the fucking engine!” he shouted.
Every muscle in John’s body began to pull tight. Controlled rage from the cop bore through the window and brought the heat up another degree. Across in the lead car neither Klementina nor Aaron appeared to be moving at all, and if they had even the slightest hint of a plan or an idea to survive the next sixty seconds they sure as hell weren’t giving John or Vanessa any clues to work with.
As far as the law was concerned though, the next sixty seconds had passed beyond the calculation stage. Now it was time to execute whatever plan had brought them to shut down the highway with terrified traffic gridlocked and stretched for miles back to the horizon, and one by one the uniformed officers began to bring their weapons firm across their chests ready to be engaged on the faintest signal while stepping carefully towards the side of the van.
“This is here is no joke no more,” Vanessa whispered. “We’re about to be cold bodies on a hot road.”
John ensured his arms didn’t move as he tightened his grip around the gun. He took a slow, steady breath and widened his eyes to absorb every minute detail and movement that shimmered and crackled before them. The air streaming in through his nose became enhanced with information, the bitter tang of Vanessa’s fear induced sweat mixing with the smell of aviation fuel and sun cooked metal as the cop leaning on the front of the car slowly nodded his head as though issuing a silent command.
“O oh,” Talitha said suddenly from the shadows.
“Keep your eyes closed sweetie,” Vanessa responded.
“There’s a storm coming,” Talitha continued, and in the mirror John could see that her eyes remained closed and pink headphones still on but face was tilted towards the sky. “I think the clouds are catching fire.”
There was a sudden shift in the light as if the sun had suddenly skipped across its arc, sending a dark shadow to sweep across the road like an ashen wave searching for a shore followed by a gust of wind strong enough to shake the vehicles and force the helicopters to rise several feet to readjust their balance. The blanket of clouds overhead were still a strange red that would be more fitting at dawn or dusk but John wouldn’t describe them as being on fire. The thought, however, was quickly made redundant.
The first one appeared to the left, a glowing orange ball breaking through the heavens like a devil fleeing the rage of a thousand gods. It had a tail made of fire and, though it was silent as it rushed through the clouds, sent a bone itching boom when it slammed into the ground and disintegrated into millions of smoking fragments. He felt the bottom of his jaw drop in awe as beside him Vanessa jerked in her seat and let out a startled shriek. As impact vibrations rattled anything that was loose in the car the shocked officers on the other side of the glass dropped their shoulders in unison and gawked at the plume rising in the distant field.
There was barely time to catch a breath.
The clouds flexed and heaved as hell born globes of fire drenched rock and metal began to punch through the atmosphere, taking the sixty second endgame that was unfolding and shattering it with the burning edge of eternity.
A succession of three impacts tore open the green earth off to the right, clumps of dirt and scorched plant matter raining down onto the vehicles just seconds later. John experienced a surge of adrenaline and fear that narrowed his vision and warped the symphony of destruction so that it sounded as though he were listening from the other end of a tunnel.
Another explosion tore open the earth across the highway to the left. This one was too close for comfort for the disbelieving officers, forcing them to hit the ground and throw their arms to cover their heads from the debris that ra
ined down from above. Not for the engine whisperer though, because whatever fear might have been present was seemingly kept in check by training and conditioning.
Using the car for support while the ground shook he produced his gun and aimed it straight at Vanessa’s startled face.
“Turn off the fucking car now,” he mouthed before edging his way to her door.
Vanessa was torn between slamming her foot down onto the pedal or admitting defeat and removing the keys. Her nerves were electrified and she was just about to turn to John to help her make the decision when an orange flash lit up the interior as a meteorite hurled into the spinning blades of the helicopter on the left, violating the steel structure with extreme prejudice and shattering the belly and glass in a split second. Hot flames feasted on the innards of the fuel tank and the aircraft managed only a slight tilt before exploding into glowing shrapnel that raced through the air with terminal velocity.
John and Vanessa threw their hands across their eyes as the windscreen imploded and car creaked back against the gears. A second later they opened them and saw that the cop’s journey to the door had been interrupted by a jagged piece of metal that had entered through the back of his neck and was now jutting from the bottom of his shattered jaw. Fragments of teeth washed in blood trickled down his chin and as he dropped to his knees to frantically reach for unseen intrusions lodged in his back an enormous fireball rose up to the heavens. The remaining pilot pushed the engine for all it had and began to ascend and bank, the blades whipping at the smoking remains of the fresh steel carcass.
“Wait!” John yelled as Vanessa slammed the van into drive.
“We’re gonna get blown to bits,” she yelled back, “and you wanna just sit here?”
“Just a couple of seconds I promise.”
He wrapped his fingers around the gun and kicked open the door. Hellish hot winds punched his skin and clothes and when he stepped onto the road and looked back behind them the chaos was overwhelming. Traffic was in disarray for as far as he could see and small explosions were crackling like fireworks in every direction, with people fleeing their flaming cars by jumping barriers, running across fields or desperately staggering towards the scattered buildings and houses that might offer some sort of protection from the piercing sky born rockets.
There was a horrible mechanical whine as the second chopper passed overhead, hoping to somehow outrun what was happening. John lowered his head instinctively and shielded his eyes from the downward gust to search the carnage on the highway for Joey’s car, for the moment ignoring the officers who were getting back to their feet and scanning the sky with confusion.
It took a few seconds before, in the distance, he spotted the rear vehicle that still lay on its side flanked with the impact scarred patrol cars and those of commuters who were now on foot running for their lives. There was so much to draw the eye that he struggled to keep focus on anything for more than a second, and yet through the swirling smoke and fire he thought he could make out someone running.
He was right.
Pushing his way through the smoke and debris of the shattered road, Joey looked like a crazy man enjoying the time of his life. He signalled with a quick wave of his left hand while balancing a gun in his right. Eric emerged from the ashen coloured haze just behind him but seemed to be struggling to keep his balance. John may have jumped from the car to see if there was any chance his new family members had survived the crash, but he was still surprised as hell to see that they were on their feet and headed his way.
A deafening crack exploded in his peripheral, and he spun on his heels to see that two of the officers had cancelled their retreat and were now crouched down and sending bullets Joey’s way. When one of the officers spotted the gun in John’s hand, a young cop that looked as though he had been waiting for the day to rip out his pistol jumped to his feet and aimed straight at his heart.
“Weapon down or you die right where you’re standing,” he growled.
John had assumed the cops would’ve all dived for cover, but he was wrong and now he was looking the down the barrel of a gun that was seconds from blowing him away.
“Easy there,” John said quietly.
“Easy is dropping that fucking gun, hard is the impact from thinking I’m bullshitting you.”
“Get your head down!” Joey screamed as he came charging even closer with adrenaline fuelled rage in his eyes.
John didn’t need to be told twice, and shrunk back against the door waiting for the sting of lead in his chest. A series of shots rang out, this time from both directions. His body jerked with the expectation of an impact but when he brought his hand to his chest there was no hole to be found.
The cops were frantic now, firing off their weapons towards Joey and Eric while beginning to once again scramble back towards the patrol cars. The cop that had threatened John realized they were being pushed back and quickly readjusted his focus. The look in his eyes was all John needed to know. It was the eyes of a man for whom death was only a morbid curiosity.
Time began to slow as the surrounding sounds of mayhem bled into one continuous strange note. He didn’t want to do it, didn’t want to have to cross a line that he swore he’d never cross again, but choice in the matter was out the window. Death was about to sweep him away in her cold embrace, drawing instincts from the dark. He dove to the ground and pulled the trigger as soon as his shoulders hit the hot tar. The bullet shattered into the cop’s hip, forcing the gun in his hands to drop as he desperately tried to stop the blood that was instantly pouring from the exposed flesh. Wracked with the instant pain of super heated metal burning at his insides, he didn’t seem so trigger happy anymore.
Fireballs continued to burst all around them, some in the air to send spark filled confetti floating to the earth and others upon impact, bringing cracks of rumbling thunder and fresh clouds of debris. John ran to the rear of the van and pushed against the metal as another bullet pinged by his ear. Joey and Eric were getting close enough now that he could see the sweat dripping off of their faces, while further in the distance he could just make out the tail of the second aircraft that seemed to be wobbling from side to side. A quick scan of the damaged road revealed burning bodies scattered amongst the crushed and smoking cars that looked as though a giant had thrown down in anger, injecting the nightmarish vision with a level of surrealism he had never known existed.
His brief thought was interrupted by the clouds exploding in the distance. Screaming and whining with steel flapping against the wind, the second chopper was sent tumbling down like a twisted, crest fallen angel. When it hit the ground it produced a deep red fireball bright enough to shimmer as a reflection on Joey’s sweat soaked cheek.
“We gotta get outta here,” Joey rasped between gulps of air.
“You think?” John replied, grabbing Eric’s arm to bring him against the back of the van.
“My damn knee’s all outta shape,” Eric hissed with pain.
“You’re both alive,” John said as another small explosion echoed in the distance, “which is a miracle considering the stunt driving, but it’s not over yet.”
The sound of popping gunfire assured that he was right. It had been only a minute or so since he’d kicked open the car door but already it felt like an eternity. Every second was worth its weight in gold.
“Let’s get you in the van,” John continued, “and get moving before we’re turned to dust.”
Before the last word had even left his lips Joey lifted his gun and glanced around the side of the vehicle. A quick nod of his head and curl of his finger suggested it was safe to move for the moment and so John ran past him and slid open the van door, inviting the glowing red of the sky to break through the shadows and illuminate Talitha’s eyes staring back at him. Her pink headphones were still in place but traces of fear on her face said that the music no longer had her total attention.
Eric almost fell inside but was quickly supported in the shoulders by Joey, who was quick to join him
in the artificial darkness. Talitha saw the blood that seeped through Eric’s torn jeans and tightened her lips together with worry, but the sharp edges of her mouth softened just a little when Eric offered a thumbs up accompanied by a naughty boy grin.
“Let me choose the music next time,” he managed to laugh while still in obvious pain.
“Everyone good?” John asked urgently.
“We’re good John,” Joey replied with vision locked through the front window, “but we’ll be even better once we get moving.”
John slammed the van door closed and ran back to the rear before sneaking a careful look towards the front. The cop he had just shot had been dragged to one of the patrol cars and still had his feet jutting out through the open back door from his laid back position on the rear seat, and by the looks of things the rest of the uniforms were back in their vehicles as well. Except, that was, for the one lone officer who stood in the middle of the road with his back to John and head held high, gazing up at the heavens as though listening for something he couldn’t quite hear. His gun lay by his feet as he all but ignored the shouts from his colleagues to get to one of the cars.
John knew that it was his only chance and he took it, sprinting to the passenger door and jumping back into his seat. Vanessa already had the van in drive and foot on the brake ready to release. Up ahead another round of gunfire echoed through the air as Aaron leaned out and returned the fire that shattered their windscreen and punched holes in the metal.
“Open the sunroof!” Joey called out.
John leaned into the dash and searched desperately for something that looked like it might be the switch. It took a couple of goes but he found it, and the heavily tinted glass pane began to retract. Before it managed to open all the way Joey lifted himself up, leaned forward on the roof and began frantically blasting away at the patrol car tires. Aaron, meanwhile, fired off another clip load that shattered windows and slammed into engine blocks before whipping is arm back into the car, reversing it several feet with a burning rubber screech before shifting gears and ploughing forward.
The Hallucigenia Project Page 55