Dissension

by R. J. Wolf

  The Suburban’s headlights blared through the back window as it gained ground. Without slowing down, it smashed into the back of the taxi, sending the car into a flat spin down the dark abandoned road.

  Mit screamed and dug his fingers deep into Mikey’s arm. He let out an earsplitting wail.

  “Get off me!”

  Sticks froze in his seat like a statue. Anthony assumed he passed out again and the rapid spinning of the car had forced his eyes open with a stupid look on his face. Steve curdled to the floorboard in a fetal position and screamed over and over.

  “I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die!”

  Suddenly, the car slammed against a mound of dirt and grass, which caused it to slow a little before flipping it over onto its side. Still moving at a high speed it slid off the road kicking up dirt and gravel in its wake. Another mound of dirt sent the taxi tumbling over into the night. The sound of crushing metal and screams echoed through the air. Pieces of car and bits of trash were sent into the night like cannon fodder.

  Anthony gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as they barreled through the desert. The car continued to flip several more times before coming to rest on its wheels in the dark, empty blackness.

  A cloud of dirt plumed into the night sky pierced only by Steve’s screams, which still resonated through the air. Mikey quickly threw a hand over his mouth, forcing him to quiet down. His other hand went to his forehead where a continuous stream of blood poured down into his eyes. The driver sat motionless still in disbelief at what happened. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning his knuckles white.

  Anthony was the first to come to his senses; he sat up and looked through all the windows trying to locate the white SUV. They slid fifty yards off the road and down a small embankment. The car now rested against a large boulder that hid them from view.

  One of the headlights was smashed and the other barely projected light through the thick dust cloud that surrounded them. The roof was caved in and the windshield had exploded into a hundred tiny pieces, some of which were buried into Joey’s face.

  Anthony kicked the door several times and it swung open before falling to the ground with a loud ping. He stepped out of the car into the cool desert air. They didn’t plan on navigating the Mojave on foot and much less in the dark, but their luck seemed to be heading in that direction.

  Anthony crawled up on top of the large boulder and crouched, his head barely visible above the swirling dirt that was slowly starting to settle. As he scanned the night he could see the glow of the SUV’s headlights. Next to the vehicle were a few men that looked like they were waiting on something. They stared off into the night unsure of where the taxi had gone; the cloud of dust it left had hidden its trajectory.

  “Get your stuff, we have to go.” Anthony ordered as he slid back down the rock.

  “You hold it right there.” The driver interrupted springing to life. “Look at my taxi, look at my face. Your friends they do this.”

  “We don’t know them,” Mit tried to respond, but was cut off.

  “I hope they have the insurance for this,” he stammered in his Italian accent.

  Before anyone could protest, Joey exited the front seat and was making his way back up to the road. Anthony and the others quickly grabbed their bags and darted out into the darkness. The dust was starting to settle and they were sure they’d be seen in seconds.

  “Which way is East?” Mikey whispered to Mit, who took a look down at his watch and then headed off in the direction opposite the road.

  “We’ll figure it out later, I’m sure we don’t want to be anywhere near those guys.”

  The five of them made off into the night like thieves, their heavy packs slowing them down. Anthony stared into the darkness blinking, hoping his eyes would adjust like they’d done before. Unfortunately like everything, else he had no control over them.

  The dust lifted, but the moonless night covered them well. It was a gift and a curse. The men couldn’t see them, but they couldn’t see where they were going. The treacherous desert was no place to wander off blindly.

  Anthony could hear the men’s voices getting louder. It sounded like someone was arguing.

  “We need to hurry.” He whispered.

  They quickened their pace, trying to put as much distance between them and their would-be pursuers. The dark night seemed to eat the noises they made as they moved deeper and deeper into the abyss.

  Suddenly a loud crack rang out freezing, them in their tracks, turning their spines to icicles. They turned their heads in unison right in time to see the taxi driver collapsing to the ground. A man stood over him gripping a smoking gun, his eyes looking off into the desert.

  “Run!” Anthony said with his jaws clenched tight.

  They all took off in a full out sprint tripping over bushes along the way. They couldn’t see in front of them and didn’t dare look behind them.

  After twenty minutes of all out running on very uneven terrain, they finally stopped. They doubled over from fatigue as they tried to catch their breath.

  Anthony hadn’t noticed until then how cold it was outside and he dug into his bag looking for his coat. As he pulled out the red and blue parka, a cell phone tumbled to the ground and lit up. He shook his head and smacked himself. He forgot that his old cell phone had been stowed away in his hiking bag. His mom never got around to disconnecting it and the blinking light meant it was still getting a signal. He was amazed that the battery hadn’t died, but then again it was an older model without all the bells and whistles.

  “Guys,” Anthony held up the glowing cell phone.

  “Give me that thing!” Mikey snatched the phone and with a loud smack bashed it against a rock. He picked up the broken pieces and launched them into the night.

  “We need to move.” Anthony said with an alarmed face.

  “You think they’re back there?” Mit eyed the group.

  “Don’t know but we need to cover more ground.” Anthony looked up scanning for any signs of movement.

  Without another word they took off running further into the desert. Even Steve was moving with cheetah like speed, motivated by images of Joey’s lifeless body. The temperature outside had dropped to the low forties, but beads of sweat ran down their faces as they tumbled through the desert.

  They ran for what felt like hours. Spurs and sticks clung to their pants and a film of dirt covered their faces. Fear and adrenaline propelled them, but now the desert was starting to take its toll.

  “No one’s following us,” Mit panted as he bent over trying to catch his breath.

  They covered at least six miles and hadn’t heard a thing or seen anyone behind them.

  “Let’s rest here for a little.”

  Anthony conceded and they collapsed to the ground breathing loudly. Mit took a small light out of his bag and immediately started tracking their location on the map.

  A long, high-pitched howl echoed through the air. For the first time they actually noticed that they were really in the desert. Anthony smiled to himself; he was definitely off the grid now. He lay back onto his pack and stared up at the silver specs that littered the night sky.

  “Um guys we have a little problem.” Mit whispered. “We kind of went the wrong way.”

  “Bro, I knew it.” Mikey blurted. “I asked you which way to go!”

  “Well we were running from psychopathic car crashing killers, if you don’t remember. Not the best time to sit around trying to figure out directions.”

  “Okay, okay,” Anthony interrupted. “We’ll have to back track. Let’s rest ten more minutes then get going in the right direction.”

  Mikey chucked a rolled up t-shirt at Mit and then lay back on his side. Sticks stood off to the side staring into the night. He was barely breathing hard. Everyone else found a spot to rest while Sticks paced back and forth.

  The temperature dropped another ten degrees. Anthony started to wonder how much colder it could possibly get as the bitter wi
nd stung his face. He pulled his jacket snug and rolled over, his head swarming with questions. His eyes felt heavy and burned. It was now somewhere near one in the morning and he felt like he hadn’t slept in days. Slowly, his eyes closed and the sound of the night vanished.

  He found himself floating through an empty space. There was a shining blue light up ahead. It twisted and turned like it was alive.

  A feeling overwhelmed Anthony, like nothing he’d felt before. It was an urge, a desire to hold the light in his hands. He didn’t know why, but he knew he needed to touch it, to embrace it.

  He stretched his arms as he floated closer and closer to it. His fingers were almost there, just a little closer. The light flashed growing brighter as it acknowledged his presence.

  “Anthony!” Mikey shouted.

  Anthony slowly opened his eyes. A blurry image started to come into focus. Mikey hung over him only inches from his face.

  “Look what Mit found!” He exclaimed as he ran off into the night.

  Anthony pulled himself up still half asleep. A low grumbling noise stirred his senses and he scrambled to his feet. He squinted trying to focus and rubbed his eyes. I must still be dreaming, he thought, as he looked up at the green dune buggy in front of him.

  “How long was I out?” Anthony asked as he walked over to the little rumbling machine.

  “Ten minutes,” Mikey laughed. “Mit went off exploring and came back with this.”

  Mit smiled from the driver’s seat waving emphatically for him to get on.

  “Yeah, I was trying to plot out the shortest course and there it was, abandoned in the middle of the desert. I had to do a little fixing, whoever left it here busted the ignition cables and hosed up the fuel line but you know me.”

  Anthony gleamed. He jumped into the buggy, relieved to be off his feet. Sticks and Steve were already crammed in the back snoring. Mikey grabbed his bag and crawled in. Mit smiled at them then revved the engine

  “Off we go!”

  Mit threw the buggy in gear and floored the gas pedal. The little green cart roared as the craggy tires tore up the desert floor.

  XV

  TERRORS IN THE NIGHT

  Anthony was already sorely missing the little green dune buggy. Their ride in it was short lived, as it only carried them eighteen miles before running out of gas. Long enough for them to make up the ground they lost going the wrong way, but that was it. They ditched it a mile or so ago and he already longed for the cramped back seat and Mit’s erratic driving.

  They marched through the night in silence, no longer running, certain they weren’t being followed anymore. The temperature had dropped into the low teens and they were all clad in heavy coats with hoods and gloves. Mit warned them about the drastic temperature changes in the desert. For once they listened.

  The barren landscape was like a ghost town, rocks and the occasional cactus was all that could be seen. The wind growled and nipped at Anthony’s face as he trampled down the long, forgotten trail. They were alone out there, far from civilization; far from help. One mistake, one misstep could prove fatal for this rag tag band of hikers.

  Mit marched onward in a straight line, like a bloodhound on the scent of his quarry. Once he got his bearings straight, Mit became a human GPS. Like clockwork, within hours they approached the California National Forest and Mit sat down to consult his map and compass.

  Anthony stood in awe as he stared into the massive forest ahead. He’d been in the woods before, but he never had a real appreciation for the trees until now. Thick leaves grew in every direction and one could easily be concealed within the first five feet. He thought about how lucky they were to have Mit with them. His navigational skills were on par with Magellan and they’d probably be somewhere in North Mexico if he hadn’t been leading the way.

  “You said less than a mile of forest, dude.” Mikey huffed as he stared into the dense patch of trees. “That’s like…that’s like a lot more.”

  “Just looks worse than what it is,” Mit reassured him. “We’ll cut through the narrow part and be in the mountains by the afternoon.”

  Steve sighed. “We didn’t even get waffles.”

  “You speed up and quit stopping every half mile and I’ll cook you some myself.” Mit spat.

  It was somewhere around four in the morning and still dark as ever. They bunched together as Mit looked down on his map, trying to conceal the glow of his flashlight. The tall, broad trees were massive and foreboding. Somewhere on the other side of the vast blanket of redwoods was Anthony’s uncle’s house.

  Anthony noticed that Sticks had walked off and was standing alone. He knew he was sort of the outsider, but he’d been really distant since they left.

  “Everything okay Sticks?” Anthony asked as he walked next to him.

  Sticks turned around and grinned then looked back off into the distance. Anthony eyed him for a moment.

  “Can’t get this view in North Shore huh?” Anthony smiled.

  Sticks huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah it’s a nice view.” He said with an agitated voice.

  Anthony smirked then walked off and headed back towards the rest of the group.

  “That guys losing it.” He said to Mikey as he poked his thumb back at sticks.

  Mikey shook his head and looked back to the trees. “He lost it a long time ago.”

  Anthony took a deep breath and stared out towards the forest. He was still gazing at the trees when the chopping of helicopter blades pierced the air. Everyone looked to the sky in unison as a military style chopper circled overhead. A large spot light burned down onto the rocks illuminating the darkness.

  Mit scrambled to stuff his map back into the bag and threw it over his shoulder. Mikey jumped to his feet in panic. It hadn’t spotted them yet, but it wouldn’t be long until the giant search light found them.

  The chopper circled low, blowing dirt and debris into the air. A tall, slender man stood out on one of the skids scanning the ground. He screamed orders at the pilot as the helicopter swung around in a search pattern.

  It flew back across their position, the searchlight still scrolling back and forth. It was so low to the ground that it stirred dirt into the air making a type of smoke screen.

  “We gotta get to the trees!” Mit yelled as they hunkered down trying to remain unseen.

  Anthony could make out the faces of several other men in the helicopter as it glided past their position. They were stark and hardened, almost like robots showing no emotion. Their eyes gazed out into the shapeless night.

  By Anthony’s count there were at least eight of them and that number quickly doubled as another helicopter appeared from nowhere. The still darkness suddenly erupted like a firecracker. Search lights came from every direction.

  The first helicopter hovered closer to the ground kicking up more dirt and rocks. A man’s voice boomed, “Set it down, set it down!”

  The chopper hovered for a minute then suddenly lost power. The spotlight flickered on and off as the helicopter whipped into a tail spin. Anthony looked up, his eyes locked on the whirlwind of metal. A man clung to the side of the spiraling chopper as others were flung into the night.

  With a loud crash the helicopter plummeted to the earth. The tail rotor dug into the rocks as it collided with the ground. The heavy skids and other pieces snapped off on impact.

  The sound of crushing metal permeated the night air. The blades of the main rotor ripped apart and shot off into the air. Bodies were thrown into the dark like confetti.

  It was now or never. Anthony and his friends jumped to their feet and sprinted for the woods about fifty yards away. Anthony could hear the other chopper touching down as the rotors whacked at the air.

  Several men swarmed out of it, covering the ground like ants. They rushed to the remains of the crashed helicopter. Chunks of metal stretched across the desert, burning high into the sky.

  Anthony dove into the trees and slid across the dirt. There was a small embankment at the edge o
f the tree line and they crouched low behind it.

  They peered out from the edge of the forest. Only the glow of the fire and the men’s flashlights were visible, bouncing about like fireflies. Anthony could hear the screams of the men stuck in the aircraft as they burned. Their moans sent chills down his spine. Other men darted about, confused and panicking. They yelled frantically as they tried to rescue their fallen team members.

  The air rumbled and the crashed helicopter suddenly exploded. Shards of burning metal catapulted through the air. Chunks of the wreckage peppered the trees and Anthony took cover behind a bush. A thick, gray smoke billowed upward like an ominous fog of death.

  The densely packed leaves of the forest unexpectedly caught fire and were quickly engulfed. It was like someone struck a match. The fire shot across the tops leaping from tree to tree.

  Anthony dove to the side just as a flaming branch fell, propelling cinders across the ground. As he landed, his knee bashed into a rock and he rolled over reeling in pain. Mikey grabbed him and pulled him to his feet, throwing Anthony’s arm over his shoulder.

  “Argh!” Anthony screamed.

  Sticks looked at them, his face matted with dirt and sweat, riddled in fear. He looked back to the scene just beyond the trees. The night set ablaze, the ground littered with the dead. His legs quivered and his hands trembled as he brought them to his face.

  “We…we can’t stay here.” He said frantically. “We’re all gonna die.”

  Sticks didn’t wait for a response. He looked one last time to the burning helicopter and then ran off into the forest without looking back.

  “Coward!” Mikey spat after him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Pulling Anthony along, Mikey headed deeper into the forest. “Steve, give me a hand.”

  Steve stared hard through the trees, his eyes still locked on the flames burning in the night. Mikey screamed to him again and he spun around. He ran to Mikey and grabbed Anthony by the other arm. Together they slowly trudged forward. Mit stayed a few steps ahead, leading the way with his flashlight.