Legend of Mace

by Daniel J. Williams

  Rolling the throttle harder, Crockett leaned into his small motorcycle and focused. It squealed as it reached top speed. He tried not to think about Kelly pressed against his back. It would be his one regret if he failed.

  Chelsea, Maya and the others pulled away, scared for what was about to happen. Screeching her bike to a stop, Chelsea's breath held in her chest as Crockett and the biker sped swiftly towards each other.

  Kelly screamed, "Oh no!" as the collision fast-approached. She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped Crockett, pressing her head against his back as she braced for impact.

  Crockett and the biker locked eyes. Seeing the mad grin plastered across the biker's face, Crockett felt a flash of panic as he veered the bike away hard at the last second. His whole body stiffened in anticipation of the hit. They just missed a head-on collision as the Plaguer's tire clipped the back of his dirtbike. Kelly missed getting her leg taken off by a fraction of an inch. The Plaguer instantly lost control of his bike and both rider and Harley smashed into the ground, tumbling end over end at a high rate of speed.

  Crockett barely kept his dirtbike from wrecking as he fishtailed from side to side. Holding on for dear life, Kelly's legs dangled off the back of the bike as her arms remained clutched to Crockett's stomach. Chelsea remained calm and didn't budge an inch as biker and Harley shot past within a few feet.

  Crockett was finally able to stop the bike. They all pulled up next to him. Kelly had tire scrapes against her jeans. “Oh my God!” she yelled as she pushed herself off the bike, shaking. “That was fucking crazy!”

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Jade continued to follow Razor as he raced towards the back of the hotel. She’d missed Crockett’s close call. “Roger,” she spoke into the Walkie-Talkie, “I think you’ve got company. Three riders. Scratch that, just two,” she said as she noticed the missing biker for the first time. “They’re approaching from the back.”

  “On it,” Roger replied a second later.

  “I’m about to lose them,” she said. “You need to move fast.”

  Listening to the conversation from the front wall, Woody jumped on the radio. “Take him out before he gets inside. If he trips another mine, I’m not sure if the hotel will stand.”

  “Shit,” Roger said as he ran to the edge of the roof, trying not to get too close as he looked over the edge. He couldn’t see anything. It was too damn high.

  “C’mon!” yelled Bowie as he ran back towards the stairwell. “We’ll take him out from below.”

  The missile explosion created instant mayhem, and motorcycles crashed or toppled over as bikers tried to slow down or stop after Bowie's strike.

  Dawson dumped her Harley to avoid colliding into the bike in front of her. Mace took advantage of the chaos and rushed the closest biker. Diving at him, Mace knocked him off his Harley as the guy slammed on the brakes. A quick flick of the hunting knife and the biker’s throat sported a huge gash. Blood poured from the wound as Mace climbed quickly on the guy's hog, ready to escape.

  Dawson screamed in outrage as she rushed towards Mace from the other side of the split. One of her breasts remained the size of a large melon while the other hung next to it like a deflated balloon, leaking gel and blood as the loose skin flapped. Flat-chested without the implants, the bikini top slipped around her waist, no longer fully supported. The remaining breast didn’t budge as she ran.

  Mace couldn’t help but grin at the sight. Dawson’s eyes filled with rage at his enjoyment, and she pulled her handgun and fired. The bullet hissed by Mace’s ear and his grin disappeared. He instantly dove off the bike and barreled towards her. The move was so unanticipated Dawson fired wildly as he rushed her. No bullet even came close.

  Mace slammed into her and threw her immediately to the ground. Most of the bikers were running or riding away, afraid of another missile launch. At the sight of him, though, a half-dozen diverted their path and rushed towards him. Grabbing Dawson around the throat, Mace rolled over on his back, facing them as they approached. He pressed his knife against her neck. “Back off or I slit her throat!” he yelled, pressing his knife tighter.

  “Kill this prick!” she screamed crazily in response.

  Mace lowered the knife to her remaining breast and whispered angrily in her ear, “Say that again and I’ll cut your other tit off.”

  “Back off!” she screamed crazily at the bikers. “Back off! Get away from him!”

  Mace lifted the knife back to her jugular. She was one of three hookers the bikers picked up in Carson City, NV, and she’d serviced them well. They weren’t ready to let her go that easily.

  Mace remembered how well deception had worked earlier. "I’m wired with plastic explosives under my jacket. Anybody tries to take me out and we all die!”

  He took a quick glance behind him. All the bikers were in front of him. He carefully pulled Dawson up as he rose. “If I were you, I’d get the fuck out of here before another missile gets rammed up your ass.”

  The bikers looked at each other and then at the hotel roof in the distance. Dawson wasn’t worth dying over, especially short a boob.

  They started backing away, guns still drawn. With Dawson in front of him, Mace used his free hand to undo a few buttons on his jacket without them seeing. He grabbed his reserve handgun and pulled it free from the holster, keeping it hidden behind her back.

  “One more thing,” Mace said, before they got too far away. They stopped and glared at him. He suddenly pushed Dawson to the side and brought his weapon up, firing and placing a bullet between the eyes of the closest biker. He put two more down before the other three could even get a shot off. Between them they got three shots off, but none made contact before they hit the ground dead.

  Glaring down at Dawson staring in horror at her dead friends, Mace said gruffly, “You’re coming with me. Make any stupid move and I’ll slice you up good.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY ONE

  Bowie led the frantic scramble down the stairwell. “Watch out on the next landing,” he said breathlessly. “There’s a pipebomb in a paper bag that’s wired.”

  “Why didn’t they tell us that before?” Roger yelled as he quickly followed.

  “Got me,” Bowie yelled back as he jumped to the landing, missing the paper bag by inches. “Once we get to the 3rd floor we’ll split up. Four rooms are clear.”

  “What if he gets inside?”

  “He can’t. He’ll trip a mine.” Bowie had forgotten about the earlier blasts.

  CHAPTER FIFTY TWO

  “Remember the basement?” Lisa looked painfully at Jade, remembering their experience in Overland Park, KS, when the infected swarmed them. Jade stood over her, staring at her condition in shock and dismay.

  “How could I forget,” she answered quietly. “You look terrible, Lisa. My God, I'm so sorry.”

  “Gee, thanks," Lisa said. "Way to cheer me up.” A few barely contained grunts escaped her lips. After a few seconds, the pain abated enough for her to continue. “You need to get out there,” Lisa said in all seriousness. “You were right in Overland Park to leave. If we’d stayed in the basement, we all would have died.”

  Jade wasn’t sure where she was going yet.

  “You don’t want to die as the last line of defense,” Lisa said, pausing as another wave of pain washed over her. She closed her eyes until it passed. “You don’t want your blood to be the last thing your kids see before they get murdered.” She took a few long controlled breaths before staring intently at Jade. “If this is the end, let’s give it to them good.” She couldn't shake the feeling of being strapped to the cross. They needed to protect these kids at all costs.

  Nodding slowly, Jade said. “I’d rather die on the offensive than waiting for it to happen.”

  “Right,” Lisa answered. “All I am now is a fighter. You don’t know how agonizing it is to have to lie here and take this shit.” Jade could see the hatred in Lisa’s eyes. “I want blood. Gallons of it.” She tried to stir under the blankets and a loud gro
an filled the room. “Fuck! Help me up. I want in on this fight.”

  “You can’t,” Jade said sadly, touching her gently to try to keep her still. “Not yet, at least. I’ll take the fight to them. If anything happens to me, just promise me my kids will be taken care of. If the Plaguers make it in here, you know what to do.” Jade's eyes looked blank as she thought of what she was asking.

  “If anything happens to you, I will kill every last one of them,” Lisa answered bitterly.

  “I know you will," Jade said. "But just make sure the kids..."

  Calming down, Lisa looked straight at the ceiling. “I will, I swear to God. I promise.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY THREE

  As soon as Crockett and the posse returned, Jade scooted out the front entrance, sniper rifle in hand. She’d briefly discussed it with Woody. A roaming sniper could do some damage to any oncoming threat without leaving the compound too short on manpower.

  “You sure about this?” Woody asked.

  “Yes. I’m going. We need somebody else out there.”

  “Okay, but take a radio and we’ll keep each other up to date.”

  Jade opened her long jacket, showing the radio underneath. She was armed similarly to Mace.

  Woody nodded. “Once you’re out there, you know you’re on your own.”

  “We can’t split the camp again,” Jade answered in understanding. “Don’t let anyone come after me. It’s too dangerous. Besides, I’m damn good with this thing,” she said, tapping the rifle. "I’m going to hit and run. Try to lead them towards the minefields.”

  “What about your kids if anything happens?”

  “If we get overrun, we’re all dead anyway.” Jade responded soberly. She moved out the open gate, staying low as she sprinted towards the hotel. She’d start there then move towards the first Plaguer group.

  CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR

  Razor climbed off his bike and cautiously approached the hotel, keeping his eye peeled for any guards or snipers. The biker that followed, Stitch, did the same. Eyeing a deep crater in the concrete, Razor noticed the blood stains and body parts that spread out from the epicenter. “Motherfucker,” he said as he stopped and examined the ground around the hotel. Another crater identified another explosion twenty feet ahead. “Shit.”

  Moving slowly, Razor didn’t want to stand out in the open for long. He took another peek at the hotel windows above before studying the craters. “Stitch,” he said quietly. “Go in by the blown mines. I’ll bet they didn’t place them on top of each other.”

  Stitch nodded. “What are you going to do?”

  “Make sure it remains clear out here. Get to the roof and take out the rocket launcher.”

  Stitch quickly pulled a vial out of his pocket and dumped a small amount of powder in the webbing between his thumb and forefinger. He lifted it to his nose and took a deep whiff. His eyes watered for a second as the drugs burned through his nasal passages. He needed to be sharp if he was going to avoid any traps.

  “Give me some,” Razor said. Stitch tossed him the vial.

  The ground-floor window right by the second crater was blown out, so Stitch moved carefully up and through it. The hotel was dark inside, and his mind instantly threatened to derail him as the infection and effects of the drugs created weird illusions all around.

  After a few seconds his eyes began to adjust to the darkness. Keeping his eyes trained on the floor, he slowly shuffled forward. He suddenly heard steps run across the floor above. He paused as sweat oozed down his large, wiry frame, and he watched imaginary specters float across the ceiling. He shook his head to clear them, then scanned the lobby as best he could. He barely made out the sign ahead. It was an arrow. The stairs were to the right.

  CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE

  “Rooms 213 and 245 are clear. If you see him, shoot the fucker,” Bowie said, feeling completely alive. He was a warrior. He embraced this life.

  “Where are you going to be?”

  “Right here for now,” Bowie said, nodding his head at the room door in front of him. “I’m going to keep track on these two sides.” He pointed behind him towards the right side of the hotel.

  Entering room 213, Roger still moved carefully, afraid of an unreported bomb. Staring out the glassless window, he picked up the radio. “Jade, any other sign of the bikers?”

  Jade immediately lifted the radio off her belt. “I’m on the ground,” she whispered. “Headed your way. Don’t shoot me. If I see anything, I’ll radio it in.”

  “We’re covering the second floor,” answered Roger. “So far, no sign.”

  “Okay, let’s keep radio silence for now,” Jade whispered again. “I don’t want it giving me away.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY SIX

  Creeping up the stairs, Stitch paused as a step creaked. Oily sweat continued to ooze from his pores, streaking dirt down his face. He pulled a small plastic pill bottle out of his inside vest pocket and popped the lid. He fished out two pills and swallowed them dry. He loved mixing the pharmaceutical grade speed with their homemade shit. It added a smoothness to the rough ride. It was getting a whole lot harder to find the good shit anymore.

  Continuing slowly up the stairs, Stitch pulled his Colt .45 with ornate 24k gold slide. It was his favorite pistol.

  CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN

  Scanning the area outside his window, Bowie saw no movement or activity. After making sure his assessment was correct, he gave an all-clear over the radio and took off for the room on the other side of the hotel.

  As he turned the corner, Stitch appeared up ahead out of the stairwell door, aiming the pistol directly at his chest. Bowie stopped and his breath briefly caught in his throat. The guy looked crazy. The thick beard and long, greasy hair gave him a ferocious appearance.

  Staring at the ornate weapon, Bowie said sarcastically, “That’s an awfully fancy gun.” Pulling out his large hunting knife, Bowie’s heart pounded against his chest as he waved it at Stitch. “You don’t look man enough to take me by hand,” he taunted. “Good thing,” Bowie continued, “because I’d carve you up good, sissy boy.”

  Watching him in amusement, Stitch lowered his gun and placed it on the floor. Shaking his head, he moved slowly towards Bowie, pulling out his straight-razor and letting it dangle by his side. “You got more balls than brains, kid,” Stitch said as he approached. “I’m gonna shove that knife right up your ass.”

  Bowie’s body tingled with anticipation. He believed he could take him. Believing he was invincible, he’d use his small size and quickness to his advantage. “The bigger you are, the harder you’ll fall, asshole,” Bowie stated boldly.

  The bravado enraged Stitch. “Last mistake you’ll ever make, you little fuck.” Stitch suddenly charged. He took up most of the hallway with his size. The blade hung open by his side.

  As Stitch barreled towards him, Bowie sprinted forward as well, his primal scream filling the hallway. As soon as they were about to make contact, Bowie slid on his butt and slashed Stitch across the left calf as he slid between his legs.

  “You little motherfucker!” Stitch yelled as he spun around quickly, slicing the blade down. The knife cut deep into Bowie's cheek and sliced up his face to the top of his forehead. It missed slashing through his eyeball by an inch as Bowie turned his head away from the blade. Blood seeped down Stitch’s calf as Bowie scrambled to get back to his feet, pressing his hand against the gash. Blood flowed through his fingers. The cut was deep and the skin flapped open.

  Hearing the commotion somewhere on their floor, Roger and Tom both immediately rushed out of their rooms into the hallway. Traveling down different corridors, it was hard to gauge where everything was taking place.

  Stitch charged again, but Bowie could barely see from the amount of blood flowing from the cut into his eyes. He took off towards the stairs as panic filled him. Keeping his hand clamped against his face, he felt like throwing up. He'd screwed up big time.

  Roger turned the corner just in time to see Bowie disappear in th
e stairwell followed closely by the big, crazy-looking biker. Climbing up the stairs quickly, Bowie scrambled to keep ahead of Stitch. The calf wound slowed Stitch down just enough to allow Bowie to stay ahead, but as anger surged through him, Stitch gained ground. “I’m going to fuck you to death!” Stitch yelled crazily as he reached for him.

  Blood flowed from the wound and Bowie struggled to keep his hand pressed against it. Stitch momentarily slipped on the stairs as his foot came into contact with the slick plasma that leaked all over the steps.

  Bowie reached the fourth floor landing as Stitch caught up again, slashing at his back with the blade. Bowie dove for the paper bag that housed the bomb as the blade sliced deep into flesh.

  Bowie cried out as he yanked on the IED and the tripwire tore loose. The pipe bomb instantly exploded, blasting outwards. The building shook from the detonation as Bowie and Stitch instantly disintegrated in the blast.

  Roger was almost to the stairs when the explosion went off. He turned his head as plaster and concrete blew out the doorway of the stairwell.

  Tom stopped, trying to keep balanced as plaster fell from above his head. A second later another explosion ripped through the hotel, followed by another, as the exploding bombs created a chain-reaction. The hotel was going to fall.

  Roger burst through the door of the closest room and raced towards the window as more plaster fell from the ceiling and walls. Another blast rocked the hotel as he missed stepping on a mine by inches. He reached the window and jumped. He fell swiftly towards the ground, fifteen feet down. He braced himself for impact as the ground quickly rushed up. Landing on soft dirt, he bent his knees at first impact then extended them as soon as he hit the ground, rolling onto his side. The Walkie-Talkie smashed as he hit the ground and he winced as it dug into his hip.