World War Forever (Highway To Armageddon Book 2)

by Harold Bloemer

  When we reach the bottom of the stairs, Alex and I round the corner to find Pitbull in the process of savagely beating the native prisoner with his bare, bionic hands. The native is curled into a ball, sobbing as metallic fists rain down upon his bruised and battered body. Puddles of blood are splattered all over the floor.

  I quickly take in my surroundings. The dungeon has a dozen cells with iron bars in front of them. On the back wall are several instruments of torture, including a whip, pliers, knives, stun guns, and branding irons. It’s like we’ve walked into some sort of medieval dungeon.

  I tear my eyes away from the ‘torture wall’ and focus my attention back on Pitbull, who has yet to notice our arrival. Still pounding the native into a pulp, he bellows, “Tell me where Klaxton is! Tell me and I’ll make your death quick and painless! TELL ME NOW!!”

  Before the native can utter a response, Pitbull blasts him in the side of the head with his right hand. The cracking sound of the blow is beyond sickening.

  I lunge toward Pitbull and grab his right arm. “Pitbull, stop it! Stop it right now!”

  Pitbull spins around and knocks me to the ground. I cry out as I slam onto my back. Alex kneels over me and whips out a blade.

  “Pitbull, cut it out,” Alex growls. “We are not the enemy here.”

  Pitbull relaxes for a brief second and says, “Oh, sorry about that, Boom Boom. You should know never to sneak up on me like that. I’ve made a lot of enemies over the years. I never know when one of them is coming to seek retribution.”

  Clambering to my feet, I mutter, “Where the hell is Lance? I thought you guys were shooting up.”

  “Ahh, those lightweights passed out about half an hour ago,” Pitbull says dismissively. “Couldn’t hang with the big dog. Your boy Lance did have a go at Jesse, though. They were like rabbits. Heard them from the other room. That boy was really horny.”

  Pitbull gives a perverted, sophomoric laugh. I scowl in disgust and say, “Charming.”

  Pitbull turns back to the whimpering native and ferociously kicks him in his ribs. The native unleashes a bloodcurdling scream that is unbearable to hear.

  “Pitbull, stop it!” I bark.

  Pitbull turns back to me and scowls. “What happened, Boom Boom? You get soft over the past couple months? You and your friends were some pretty hardcore badasses when we were chasing after Rasputin. I’d hate to think you lost your edge.”

  “Having compassion for a defenseless prisoner is not a portrayal of weakness,” I say pointedly, struggling to resist the urge to shove my stun gun down Pitbull’s throat. “It’s a sign of strength, actually. A sign that you can control your anger and fear. Why the hell are you down here, anyway?”

  “I just told you, your boy Lance and his new lady friend wussed out on me and fell asleep,” Pitbull says while cracking his mechanical knuckles. “I got bored and decided to come down here to start the interrogation. Figured I could blow off some steam in the process. This may come as a surprise to you, but I have anger management issues.”

  “No,” I say, feigning surprise.

  “It’s true,” Pitbull says, deadpan. “I’m not as nice and friendly as I look.”

  “Why are you wasting your time beating up the prisoner?” I snap. “Just give him some truth serum! He’ll spill his secrets in no time, if he even has any.”

  Pitbull scoffs. “You think our cheapass government gave us a stockpile of truth serum? Please! We’re lucky they even sent us bottled water! Besides, those truth serums aren’t always reliable. Half the time they don’t even work!”

  That is something I know all too well.

  Pitbull goes back to cracking his various joints. “We do things down here the old-fashioned way. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an interrogation to finish.”

  Pitbull slams his fist into the cowering native’s stomach. The native bowls over and spits up a ton of blood, some of which splatters on Pitbull’s boots.

  Pitbull screams into the native’s busted face, “Tell us where Klaxton is! We know you’re hiding her! Tell us!!!”

  Pitbull rains his bionic fists down upon the cowering native again and again and again, until his entire face and upper body are completely drenched in blood.

  I grab Pitbull’s right arm yet again and shout, “Goddamn it, Pitbull, leave him alone! He probably doesn’t even understand what you’re saying!”

  Pitbull yanks his arm out of my grasp. “Don’t be so naïve, girlie. They all know English. How else do you think they got so many concessions out of Klaxton? He’s just playing dumb.”

  Pitbull delivers a savage kick to the native’s mouth, knocking him flat on his back. The native starts heaving like crazy.

  The native finally garbles, “P… please stop…. I … I know not what you… what you speak….”

  “Wrong answer, jackass,” Pitbull snarls before delivering another brutal kick to the native’s ribs.

  The native howls in agony and rolls onto his side, spitting up even more blood.

  Something inside me finally snaps. I stood back and allowed Pocahontas to be tortured, and it’s been eating away at me ever since. I can’t allow history to repeat itself. I won’t allow it. I whip out my gun and point it at the back of Pitbull’s head. I cock the pistol to get his attention.

  Pitbull slowly turns his head. When his glowing eyes fall upon my pistol, he starts cackling… a dark, soulless cackle that freaks me the fuck out.

  “Don’t be stupid, Boom Boom,” Pitbull says in an amused voice, like he doesn’t consider me a credible threat. “You know that bullet will simply bounce off my metallic forehead. And then I’ll get pissed. And you know how violent I get when I’m pissed.”

  I pivot the aim of my pistol from Pitbull’s forehead to his left eyeball. Doing my best to keep my voice steady, I say, “I know, that’s why I’m going to blast you in your eye socket. The bullet will blow away the lower part of your brain. A nice, quick, albeit messy, death.”

  Pitbull continues his demonic cackling. “You ain’t got the balls.”

  “You’re right, I don’t have any balls,” I retort. “I have a vagina, you fucking idiot. And you know all the people I’ve killed over the years. You really think I would hesitate adding you to my kill list?”

  Pitbull’s laughter deteriorates into a growl. He raises his gleaming hands and slowly backs away. “Alright. Interrogation is over. Although…”

  Pitbull flashes a sadistic smile inside the small slit at the bottom of his metallic face mask.

  “Your Indian buddy is pretty banged up. I doubt he survives the night.”

  I glance over at the moaning native and realize Pitbull is right. The sadistic son of a bitch has pulverized the poor guy. Even if we could rush him to a hospital (which isn’t an option, considering we are hundreds of miles away from the nearest city), doctors wouldn’t be able to save him. He’s probably got all sorts of internal bleeding going on. So now the question becomes, do we sit back and allow the native to die on his own accord? Or do I help facilitate the process? Initiate a mercy killing?

  Almost as if he’s reading my thoughts, the native looks up at me through tear-filled eyes and whispers, “Please… end this…”

  I blink back my own tears and point my gun at the dying native.

  Alex cries out, “Boom Boom, what are you do---”

  BLAM!

  The native’s head snaps back and blood and brain matter splatters against the wall. His body convulses on the ground for a second or so before growing still. At long last, the native’s nightmare is over. But mine… mine has just begun. I always have horrific nightmares about the many people I’ve killed over the years. And this killing will haunt me more than any other.

  I turn to Alex and feel my heart cleaving in two at the look of horror on his ashen face. He had such an idealistic view of me, and in a matter of seconds I obliterated that mirage.

  “I’m sorry, Alex, but I had to do it,” I say in a cracking voice. “He wasn’t going to make it. I
t was… an act of mercy.”

  Alex’s aghast expression softens somewhat as he steps forward and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me toward his armor-covered chest.

  “I know, Boom Boom. It’s alright… you did the right thing,” he says quietly.

  Pitbull’s sadistic laughter ruins our tender moment.

  “Hahaha, that was sick, Boom Boom! I love your ruthless style. Looks as if you’ve found your edge again.”

  I pull away from Alex and furiously jab my finger into Pitbull’s bionic chest.

  “You are a vile, disgusting, vicious lunatic!” I scream. “If you pull crap like that again, I swear to God I will kill you! We are not savages from the Dark Ages! There are civilized ways to extract information from a prisoner! You don’t have to tear them apart, like some wild animal!”

  Pitbull grabs me by my shoulders and slams me up against the steel wall. I cry out as the back of my head smashes against the unforgiving metal. Alex shouts and lunges toward us, but Pitbull merely shoves him away. I watch through watery eyes as Alex falls backwards and slams the back of his head against the concrete floor.

  Pitbull cocks his head as I thrash around in his iron-clad grip. His eyes glow so brightly that I’m forced to avert my gaze.

  “Now you listen to me and you listen to me good, you stupid bitch,” Pitbull growls, all levity absent from his deadly-serious voice. “If we’re going to work together to hunt down Klaxton, we’re going to do things my way. This isn’t a democracy down here. I’m the one in charge. This is my show, and you’re merely a supporting character… easily replaced, if it needs to come to that. This isn’t a joke, and it’s certainly not a goddamn game. You may not like my way of doing things, but my way of doing things gets results. We have a mission… an extraordinarily important mission, with global implications. The objective of that extraordinarily important mission, in case you’ve forgotten, is to locate and apprehend the world’s number one fugitive at any and all costs. We don’t have a lot of time to complete this mission. China is a powder keg ready to explode, and once it does, it will ignite a conflagration that will consume the entire world in a fiery nuclear holocaust. They could attack us at any time if they deem we aren’t doing enough to find the person who admitted on live television that she planned to assassinate the Chinese Empress. We’re going to have to do things you’re not going to like… that go against your moral fiber… but when the fate of the world is at stake, and time is of the essence… well, sometimes you have to emulate the bad guy in order to beat em. I’m going to let your little hissy fit slide tonight, but if you stand in my way again… if you try and stop me from doing my duties as a mercenary employed by the United States of America… then I will not hesitate snapping your neck, or the necks of your friends… or lovers.”

  Pitbull glances at Alex, who has just staggered to his feet.

  Pitbull turns back to me and snarls, “Do I make myself clear?”

  I choke back the real retort I’m dying to utter (which is, “I’m going to stab you in your robotic eyeballs the first chance I get”) and instead reply, in a clear, cool voice that betrays the volcanic rage bubbling up inside me, “Crystal. Now get your filthy bionic hands off me, you cyborg piece of shit.”

  Pitbull flashes a demonic grin and releases his grip on my shoulders. “That hurts, you know. Us cyborgs have feelings, too.”

  I continue glaring at Pitbull as I rub my aching, sore shoulders. I haven’t been this angry in a long time, and I feel like I’m about to explode.

  Pitbull gestures toward the slain native and casually says, “Leave the corpse. We’ll get rid of it in the morning. Or maybe we’ll keep it around for a few days… as a warning to the next batch of prisoners we bring down here.”

  Pitbull stomps over to Alex and bumps into him, knocking him back down. He then storms upstairs, muttering a bunch of profane comments along the way before finally disappearing through the sliding steel door.

  I rush over to Alex and say, “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll live,” Alex says, still rubbing the back of his head.

  I help Alex to his feet and inspect the back of his head, parting his shaggy hair with my hands so I can check for any serious cuts or bruises. He’s bleeding a little bit, but that’s about the extent of his injuries.

  “I told you, Boom Boom, I’m fine,” Alex grumbles, turning around. “It’s you I’m worried about. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  “No,” I lie. My shoulders still hurt like hell, but I don’t want to worry Alex.

  Alex runs his fingers through his hair and says, “Look Boom Boom, I had no idea Pitbull was like this. I’ve never seen him so… angry.”

  “Oh really?” I say skeptically. “You’ve never seen Pitbull beat somebody up like this before?”

  Alex grimaces. “Well… I mean, yeah, but they… I mean… they kind of… deserved… it?”

  Alex says this almost like a question, as if he doesn’t believe his own words.

  “What I mean is, the natives he’s beaten up before… they were trying to kill us.”

  “Alex, there is no excuse to justify something like this.” I gesture toward the murdered native who, until moments before, was a living, breathing human being. “We have to be better than this. Otherwise, why are we even wasting our time trying to save the world?”

  Alex nods and looks down at his feet. “You’re right, Boom Boom… you’re right. I do know what’s been going on down here. I’ve heard the screams. I tried to ignore it… act like it wasn’t happening. I was scared, I guess… confused. I mean, these are the same natives who have been killing our teammates. But I’ve also seen… and heard… Pitbull doing even more barbaric things to them. Torture is torture, and it’s wrong no matter who you do it to... even if they’re your bitter adversaries.”

  Pocahontas’ tear-streaked face materializes in my mind. I do my best to force the image out of my head.

  “Do you want to try and get some sleep?” Alex asks after a lengthy pause.

  I glance up the stairs and reply, “Yes, I would love to. But I don’t feel comfortable sleeping in here tonight. Not with that sick bastard down the hall from us. Do you think we could go sleep in my plane?”

  Alex nods. “Absolutely. Let’s go.”

  Alex and I make our way out of the compound. We jog over to the landing strip to minimize our exposure to all the mosquitos buzzing around and climb aboard Grenade’s helicopter-plane. After I secure the hatch door to make sure we don’t have any unexpected nighttime visitors, we both collapse onto a cot in the back of the cabin.

  Alex wraps his arms around my waist and dozes off almost instantly. I, however, lie awake for quite a while longer. My mind can’t stop racing. And to be honest, a part of me is afraid to go to sleep. The past few months I’ve endured a multitude of horrific nightmares. I’ve been forced to relive the deaths of all the loved ones I’ve already lost… Arrow, Dagger, my parents and siblings… but I’ve also been having even more terrifying nightmares about the people I haven’t lost. I can’t even begin to recount the number of times I’ve woken up screaming in the middle of the night after watching Lance, Krystal, Blade and Harpoon being brutally murdered in the most horrific ways possible.

  Hot tears spill down my cheeks. I don’t bother wiping them away. I don’t even mind crying anymore. It’s become a normal ritual for me. It find it cathartic.

  I snuggle up against Alex, who has started murmuring in his sleep. Apparently I’m not the only one with restless dreams.

  It dawns on me that this is exactly what I need. It’s what I’ve been missing these past several months. I need someone to hold me while I sleep. Someone who cares… someone who’s there for me, for no other reason than the fact they want to be there. It feels so comforting being held in Alex’s arms… this boy I barely know. He’s not judgmental, he’s not asking questions or trying to determine if I’m okay. He’s just… there. Even though he’s fast asleep, he’s there. And really, isn’t that all you
need?

  I know this isn’t healthy… always gravitating toward the first guy to show me a little bit of attention. I did it with Lance on and off over the years… I did it with Arrow… and each and every time I ended up getting hurt. But I can’t help it. These fast and heavy relationships, they’re like an addictive drug that I can’t wean myself off of. It’s almost like these destructive relationships are the fuel that keep me going. But it’s a quick burning fuel that never lasts. I know this is a mistake… allowing myself to fall for Alex so fast and furiously…. We’re both in the wrong line of work for this to be a lasting thing. I watched Arrow die right before my very eyes… I’ve nearly seen the same fate befall Lance on countless occasions. Odds are good that I will witness Alex’s untimely end… or he will witness mine. But the selfish part of me doesn’t care. I want this… I need this.