World War Forever (Highway To Armageddon Book 2)

by Harold Bloemer

  Machete’s good eye narrows into a hate-filled slit. “Somehow, someway, you overcame all those odds and found a way to survive. I would be impressed if I wasn’t so fucking pissed off at your constant meddling with my plans.”

  “Sorry we’re so hard to kill,” I say.

  Machete sneers at me and rattles on, “I had no idea you survived the plane crash until this evening. A bunch of soldiers arrived at our compound a few hours ago. They were going to help us hunt down Klaxton so they could use her as leverage to negotiate a ceasefire with the Chinese. But then we received a message from your ‘lover’, Alex.”

  Machete says lover with a heavy dose of acidic contempt. She’s probably infuriated that I had the gall to move on to another suitor so soon after the death of her son. If she had any idea how much I think about Arrow, how much I miss him, she wouldn’t dare assume that I’ve moved on. Arrow’s death will haunt me for the rest of my days.

  “Alex informed Pitbull that you and your buddies had decided to turn your back on your country and help Klaxton escape. Not only that, but you were apparently going to attempt some sort of coup against LeBeau. If this is all true, you kids have some huge balls. You’re all incredibly stupid, but you have balls.”

  “Thanks, we like our big balls,” Lance mutters, staggering to his feet and leaning against the back wall for support.

  Machete scowls. “The soldiers sent word to LeBeau, who was understandably outraged at your traitorous actions. She ordered us to attack the Chiquito village and raze it to the ground. We were ordered to slaughter every last man, woman, and child, including you dumbasses, but our main priority was to apprehend Klaxton alive so she could be handed over to the Chinese for whatever torture they deemed appropriate. You’ll recall that was one of their prerequisites for her capture, that she still be breathing.”

  Machete tightens her head hold on Klaxton and whispers into her ear, “Although whatever torturous method of execution those Chinese bastards had planned will pale in comparison to the agony you’re going to suffer at my hands.”

  “You’re making a huge mistake,” Klaxton says in a whisper, so her throat doesn’t rub up against Machete’s dagger.

  “No, you made a mistake when you killed my son in cold blood,” Machete growls. For a second I’m afraid she’s going to lose control and jab the blade into Klaxton’s neck. But Machete takes a deep breath and her fleeting flash of white-hot rage dissipates to nothing more than smoldering anger.

  “When we arrived at the Chiquito village, I decided to stay back and see how things played out,” Machete says, continuing her autobiographical tale. “I knew you guys would probably end up taking out Pitbull and his dumbass crew of drunk, crack-addicted marauders, especially with Grenade by your side. And I was proven correct, as I crouched behind some nearby bushes and watched you take them all out one by one. I may not be particularly fond of you meddlesome teenagers, but I respect and, you might even say admire your phenomenal fighting skills. It’s that very respect that led me to save your wretched lives during that firefight in Klaxton’s underground lair… the same firefight that extinguished the life of my son.”

  Machete goes back to snarling at Klaxton. Once again I’m terrified that Machete will lose control of her boiling emotions and plunge her dagger into Klaxton’s throat. But Machete continues to surprise me with her self-restraint, as the dagger does not disappear into Klaxton’s flesh.

  “After you finished slaughtering Pitbull and his hapless crew, I watched Yin and Marco come to your rescue, allowing you to escape in a flying car. I hopped into my own flying car, which I had parked in a small clearing a few hundred yards away from my hiding place, and followed you to Klaxton’s underground hangar. I knew you were merely down there to acquire another vehicle, so I hovered up in the sky, waiting for you to emerge. I will admit I grew concerned when dozens of soldiers swarmed into the hangar, but my fears were assuaged when you emerged into the sky unscathed. I followed you until we were a considerable distance from the invading soldiers, and then I attacked. And now if you’ll excuse me, I have a former president to mercilessly butcher. She will rue the day her thug Rasputin electrocuted my beautiful son.”

  Machete walks backwards along the wing of her car, dragging Klaxton with her.

  I desperately shout out, “Machete, please don’t do this! I understand your anger, but you have to look at the bigger picture. If you care about stopping the Chinese invasion, you have to let Klaxton live!”

  Machete stops in her tracks and unleashes a cold, soulless cackle that causes goose pimples to break out all over my arms. “Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t give a damn about the Chinese, or America for that matter. If they want to blow each other to smithereens, then that’s their fucking problem. I don’t care about this world, because this world doesn’t give a damn about me. It certainly didn’t give a damn about my son. All I care about at the moment… the only thing that’s kept me going all these months… is my mission to avenge my beautiful, beautiful boy. After I’ve finished disemboweling Klaxton and hacking off all her limbs, I don’t care if I live or die. So why would I care about the fate of anyone else? Vengeance against Klaxton is the only thing that’s kept me alive. Otherwise I would have blown my own brains out a long time ago. After Klaxton is finally dead, at my hands, I can die happy. I might just go ahead and blow my brains out, like I’ve thought about doing the past several weeks. I simply can’t muster the energy to care about life anymore. But I do know I will relish every glorious second I get to hear Klaxton pleading for mercy… begging for me to end her miserable existence because the torture I’m inflicting upon her is too much to bear. Don’t you see, Boom Boom? Don’t you get it? I have nothing to live for… nothing! Nothing but cold, sweet revenge. And once I’ve gotten that out of my system, the world can erupt into a raging inferno for all I care. In fact, I think that would be a fitting end for this screwed up planet. A chance for the world to be reborn… like a phoenix rising from the ashes of its own destruction.”

  I’m taken aback by Machete’s morbidly poetic words, because it’s exactly how I feel… or rather, how I felt, not that long ago. I, too, wondered if it was better for the world to burn… to erase all the evil that has corrupted it. Part of me still feels that way. But another part refuses to give up… on this world… on myself… on Machete. There will always be a part of me that believes in redemption… that no matter how far one has fallen into the darkness, there is always a path back to the light.

  Before I can articulate my thoughts, Klaxton says in a hushed, hoarse whisper, “Machete… I am sorry about your son. I truly am. But you have to listen to Boom Boom… the world needs me. Only I can…”

  “SHUT YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH!!” Machete roars, jerking Klaxton’s head back and pointing the tip of her dagger less than a centimeter from the former president’s right eyeball. Klaxton stares at the tip of the dagger in abject terror, her bottom lip quivering like crazy. I have never seen the ‘almighty’ Angela Klaxton so fearful. It’s rather disturbing to see someone so powerful in such a ‘powerless’, submissive position.

  I reach out for Machete and say, “Please, just put the knife down and talk to me. There’s no need for---”

  Machete glares at me and shrieks, “You shut your damn mouth, too! You have soiled the legacy of my son! He died saving you, and how did you repay him? You slept with that moronic, goody-two-shoes Alex! He couldn’t hold a candle to my son! Even worse, you turned your back on everything my precious Arrow fought and died for when you decided to help this bitch! My son loved you, and yet you went on about your life, completely forgetting about him!”

  Blinking back tears, I stammer, “Machete, that’s not true! You know that’s not---”

  “It is true and you know it! If you truly did love my son, like he loved you, then you would have killed this cunt long before I ever got the opportunity. You should have slit her throat the instant you laid eyes on her!”

  Machete starts backing toward her ca
r again. Not knowing what else to do, I whip out my handgun and shakily point it at Machete’s head.

  “Not another move or I’ll shoot,” I say in a trembling voice. “I mean it. DON’T MOVE!!”

  Machete cocks her head to the side and starts cackling again. “Oh really? You expect me to believe that you’re going to shoot the mother of the boy who died saving you? If you didn’t have the balls to kill Klaxton, then I know for a fact you don’t have the balls to kill me. Now put that gun away before you further embarrass yourself.”

  I cock my gun and step forward. This time in a much steadier, more forceful voice, I say, “I’m dead serious, Machete. You take another step toward that car, and I will not hesitate to kill you. This isn’t about you, or me, or even Arrow. This is about the future of this world… about the lives of countless millions of innocent people… millions of innocent children. Far too many have died due to America and China’s stupid little proxy war. I will do whatever it takes to stop Armageddon from being unleashed upon the Earth. Even killing the mother of the boy I once loved… that I still love.”

  “Boom Boom…,” Lance starts to say.

  “Shut up, Lance,” I say without even looking at him. “I have everything under control.”

  Machete is no longer smiling. She must sense how dead-serious I’ve become.

  “Go ahead,” Machete finally says, without the slightest hint of humor in her voice. “Go ahead, kill me. You’ll be doing me a favor. Come on, you can do it. I’ve seen you kill before. Look, my head is fully exposed. You’re a good shot, you won’t even hit Klaxton. Come on, shoot me right in the forehead. Pull the trigger. Do it. DO IT NOW!!”

  My hands get all shaky again. “Don’t tempt me, Machete. I will do it!”

  Klaxton starts whimpering, but Machete ignores her. She continues glaring at me, chewing her bottom lip, internally reviewing her options. She finally says, “No you won’t. And on that note, I’m leaving.”

  Machete takes another step back.

  “Machete…” I say desperately.

  Machete takes another step. One more and she’ll be completely outside the hatch door, halfway across her wing. Once she exits the chopper, I won’t be able to shoot her without risking Klaxton plummeting to her death.

  “Machete…” I say in a barely audible whisper.

  Machete sneers at me as she picks up her left foot to take another step backwards.

  BLAM!!

  Machete’s head snaps back as a bullet careens into her right eyeball. Klaxton cries out and falls forward, slamming onto the chopper’s steel floor. Machete falls backwards out of the chopper and topples out of view.

  “MACHETE!!” I scream, throwing my gun down and lunging toward the hatch door. I watch in horror as Machete’s body spirals down into the low-flying clouds below, a trail of crimson ejecting from her right eye. She quickly disappears into the wall of clouds.

  “NOOOOOOO!!” I scream, tears streaming down my cheeks.

  Two strong hands grip my shoulders and yank me back. I thrash around, trying to break free, but the hands turn me around and pull me into a hug. I look up to find Lance embracing me, saying, “Shhh, it’s okay, Boom Boom. You did everything you could. It’s okay.”

  I break down into uncontrollable, choking sobs. Every horrible thing that’s happened to me over the past several months starts replaying in my mind. Dagger’s death… Dorothy and Sally’s horrific murders… the lynching’s of those poor people at the Dresden Settlement… Arrow being electrocuted before my very eyes… Krystal’s grandmother passing away… Pocahontas being tortured while I stood back and watched… Ms. Madison’s assassination… the wholescale slaughter of all those people on Blackbird’s cruise ship… my sexual assault at the hands of Ramirez… River’s death… the genocide of an entire tribe of indigenous people… Alex’s murder by my hands… and now Machete… shot in the face, by me…. I’ve become nothing more than a cold-blooded, heartless murderer. I’m no longer simply killing nameless goons, or terrorists, or rapists. I’m killing people I care about, people I love! What is happening to me? How could I have fallen so far, so quickly? I feel like I’m deteriorating into a full-blown mental breakdown… complete and total madness…. I can’t contain my emotions anymore. I’m drowning in a sea of anger, sadness, depression, and despair. It’s like all the light from the world has been extinguished, plunging me into eternal darkness… and I’ll never be happy again.

  “You did the right thing, kid.”

  Still leaning against Lance’s chest, I turn to find Greande pushing himself into a sitting position. His entire body is caked in dried blood, and he looks morbid with his missing bionic eye. How he’s been able to hang on this long is beyond me. A lesser man would have expired long ago.

  In between short, shallow breaths, Grenade garbles, “I’m glad… you took… the shot. I know… it was… hard for you. But you did… the right… thing…”

  By now Krystal is back on her feet. Klaxton is off to the side, leaning against the wall, breathing heavily, but I ignore her.

  Krystal gives me a weird look and says, “You… you killed Machete?”

  “Yes,” I say in a quivering whisper. “Yes I did.”

  Krystal has always been a big supporter of dishing out corporal punishment. She’s never been one to think twice when it comes to killing bad guys, or defending yourself with lethal force. But the look of horror on her face… her astonishment at the fact that I just killed the mother of quite possibly the love of my life… somehow it makes what I did all the more horrific.

  Lance looks down at me and frowns. He’s always been able to read me like an open book. It’s almost like he’s a telepath, capable of reading my mind.

  Gripping my shoulders, he says, “Boom Boom, Grenade’s right. You had no choice. You did what needed to be done to prevent---”

  I twist myself out of Lance’s grasp. “Are you happy?”

  Lance seems taken aback. “What? I…”

  “Are you happy?!” I shove Lance so hard in the chest that he topples into a chair. I bend over and grab him by the front of his Kevlar vest. “You made me like this! It all started when you were torturing Pocahontas! You told me we would have to get our hands dirty! That we would have to start doing things we’ve never done before! That in order to stop evil, we had to become evil! You told me I needed to toughen up! I’d have to do bad things! Well your wish just came true! I’m doing those bad things! I have become evil! You turned me into a monster! ARE YOU HAPPY?!! ARE YOU?!!!”

  “Boom Boom,” Lance says quietly, his eyes wide with fear. For the first time in his life, he’s afraid of me. And that’s good. I want him afraid of

  me. Everyone needs to be afraid of me. I’ve plunged off the cliff, and there’s no return.

  I let go of Lance’s vest and stagger to the middle of the chopper, clutching my throbbing head. I don’t know if I want to curl into a fetal positon and cry, or run over and slit Klaxton’s throat, or strangle Grenade, or beat the shit out of Lance. One second I want to give up and bawl my eyes out, and the next second I want to grab a gun and release all my pent up anger in a hail of gunfire. It’s like my brain has gone completely haywire.

  Klaxton walks over to me and says, “Boom Boom, I understand what you’re going through. But you need to get a grip. We still need to---”

  I clench my fist and deliver a vicious uppercut to Klaxton’s chin. Klaxton flies off her feet and slams into the wall, collapsing into a crumpled heap. To their credit, Lance and Krystal don’t try and intervene. If they did, I can’t guarantee I wouldn’t punch them out as well.

  I hover over Klaxton as she groggily looks up at me, her eyes wide with the same fear I detected in Lance.

  “Shut your goddamn mouth,” I hiss, clenching and unclenching my fists as I debate pounding her into a bloody pulp. “Just shut the fuck up. You have no idea what I’m going through. This is more your fault than anyone’s. You have no right to say a goddamn thing about anything.”

&n
bsp; My knees suddenly buckle and I collapse to the ground. I start bawling again, right there in the middle of the cabin. A few seconds later I pound the floor with my fists and scream like a deranged lunatic. I’m no longer on the brink of insanity. I’m already there. I feel like I want to kill every fucking person on the planet. Is this how psychopaths are created? I feel so much anger… so much rage…. My God, what is happening to me? I’m losing control of my very soul.

  After spending a few minutes sobbing and feeling sorry for myself, I lift my head out of my hands and glance around the cabin. Lance, Krystal, Grenade, and Klaxton are all staring at me apprehensively, like I’m some sort of unpredictable time bomb. And they’re absolutely right to think of me that way. I am a ticking time bomb. They should all be afraid of me. I’m finally living up to the nickname Lance gave me all those years ago; I’m a firecracker ready to go off at a moment’s notice.