“That’s okay, Krystal can come get us.” I pull her up on my goggles and shout, “Krystal, get your ass over here NOW!”
Krystal pops into view. “On my way. Should be there in about a minute.’
Dorothy pops up with her gun. “Yeah Lance, you can count on us!”
Krystal shoves the gun out of her face. “What did I tell you about aiming that thing at me?”
Krystal and Dorothy fizzle out of view.
“They’ll be here in a minute!” I shout to the others.
“I don’t think we have a minute.” Boom Boom points to the dozens of Klansmen and Neo-Nazis rushing toward the front gate, armed with machine guns and swords. They stop to make sure the gate isn’t electrified, then kick it open and rush inside, their weapons aimed directly at us.
“Fall back to the renewable energy factory!” Boom Boom hollers.
We all follow after her into the factory. We jump behind some solar panel assembly lines in the center. Boom Boom and I crouch behind the assembly line facing the front door. Machete and Arrow face the back. Boom Boom hands them some of her extra weapons since they’re pretty much unarmed.
“Aw man, I hate guns,” Arrow gripes.
“Shut up and shoot!” Boom Boom hollers.
Almost on cue, a swarm of Klansmen and Neo-Nazis burst through the front door, their guns a-blazing. Boom Boom and I unload a barrage of artillery, forcing the Nazis to dive for cover behind assembly lines and piles of spare windmill parts. I assume the Nazis have started coming through the back door because Machete and Arrow begin firing as well.
We continue this crazy shootout for the next 30 seconds or so, firing off shots and dropping back to the floor to avoid incoming artillery. Matters are complicated by the fact that the Nazis on the opposite side of the factory are firing at Machete and Arrow, and of course when they duck that leaves our backs exposed. Boom Boom is actually hit in the back by one of those shots. Thankfully the bullet hits her armor.
We manage to hit a few Nazis, but most of our shots miss. And more of the Nazis keep pouring into the factory despite the fact we’re firing through the door. Some of the Nazis dive from assembly line to assembly line, getting closer to us with each passing second. Boom Boom tosses a flash and smoke grenade, but it does little to stop the Nazi’s advance. We’re quickly becoming overwhelmed.
One of the Nazis suddenly races toward us, unloading his gun and screaming like a lunatic. Several of his shots riddle Boom Boom’s bullet-proof vest, sending her flat on her back.
“You bastard!” I shout, firing a shot directly at his chest. The Nazi spits up blood, but his momentum keeps him moving forward. He doesn’t stop until he collapses onto our assembly line. Blood oozes out of his mouth and onto the ground next to us. I shove him off the assembly line, where he collapses to the ground on the other side.
Boom Boom staggers back to her knees and continues shooting. She appears rattled, but probably not as rattled as I was seeing that crazy Nazi charging at us like a suicide bomber. If the rest of them do that, we’re screwed.
And of course that’s exactly what the Nazis decide to do. The Grand Wizard bursts through the door and shouts, “CHARGE!”
That’s the rallying cry that unleashes full-scale chaos. Dozens of Nazis leap out of hiding and come at us like a stampede of cattle.
“Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!” I cry, dropping down to avoid the bombardment of bullets. Boom Boom and the others do the same.
I glance at Arrow and Machete. Even they look scared.
“Well guys, it’s been fun,” Machete says over the deafening roar of gunfire.
“At least we saved all those prisoners,” Boom Boom says solemnly.
I shake my head. I just can’t believe we’re going to meet our end like this… torn apart by Nazis. As Boom Boom likes to say, un-freaking-believable.
And then, just when all seems lost, a shattering of glass signals our salvation.
I look up as our stolen Chariot XX descends through the skylight. The four of us cover our faces to protect them from the glass shards raining down on top of us.
A monstrous explosion sends me and Boom Boom flying into Machete and Arrow. My ears start ringing like crazy. I peer over the top of the assembly line and gasp at the sight of the far end of the factory exploding in flames
I look up to find Dorothy hanging over the side of the car, clutching a bazooka. Krystal, who is in the driver’s seat, points to the other side of the factory. Dorothy aims her bazooka in that direction and fires. Another concussive explosion sends Machete and Arrow flying into me and Boom Boom.
It takes a few seconds for us to regain our bearings. By the time we do, Krystal lands the car in between the assembling lines and wildly flails her arms.
“Get your asses in the car!”
She doesn’t have to tell us twice. We all scramble into the back, and Krystal blasts into the sky.
I look down just as the Grand Wizard emerges from some burning rubble, looking badly injured but very much alive. He points a machine gun at us and shouts something, but I can’t hear him.
Before he can fire, I unload several shots. Two red dots appear through the Grand Wizard’s white robes, right where his heart would be. The Wizard falls flat on his back. Now he can join his beloved Adolf Hitler in Hell.
We quickly emerge from the flaming factory. The cool air is a stark contrast to the hot flames down below. I lean back into my seat and breathe a sigh of relief. I’m both exhausted and exhilarated at what we accomplished. We saved over 300 people from genocide. We couldn’t save those three poor souls from being lynched, but we made up for it by freeing hundreds of others.
“Thanks for the save, Krystal,” I gasp, struggling to catch my breath. “That makes up for all the times you fell asleep on the job.”
“Actually she did fall asleep,” Dorothy says, still holding her smoking bazooka. ‘I just happened to hear your voice through her goggles, so I woke her up.”
“Why you gotta be a snitch?” Krystal snaps.
“Where did you get the bazooka?” Arrow asks.
“We found it in the trunk,” Dorothy explains.
“You look very badass with a bazooka,” I say.
“Really?” Dorothy gushes. “Thanks! You know, I think I could learn to like this bounty hunter stuff.”
“Good, you can take my place,” Krystal gripes. “I’m getting too old for this crap.”
Gunfire suddenly pings the side of our car. Everyone ducks as our few remaining windows and mirrors shatter. An intense white light envelopes the entire car, blinding us.
“Ah crap, they have a spotlight on us,” Krystal cries, struggling to keep the car steady as bullets demolish the paint job.
I peer over the side of the car at the ground below. Hundreds of Klansmen and Neo-Nazis are outside the gates of the internment camp, pointing their guns at us. Dozens of orange flashes flitter in and out of existence. It’s a good thing most of the Nazis are drunk, otherwise we’d be getting hit a lot more than we are.
I glance over at the renewable energy factor, which by now is engulfed in a raging inferno. Right next door to it is the armory. A light bulb goes off in my head.
Krystal’s just about to take off when I holler, “Hang on a second!”
“Why, so we can die?” Krystal hollers as bullets whiz by.
“Give me your bazooka, Dorothy!”
“Er, okay,” she says, handing it to me.
I grab the bulky weapon and aim it at the armory.
“Lance, what are you doing?” Boom Boom asks frantically.
I squint my left eye to get a better view of my target. “Let’s just say I recommend you all cover your ears.”
I ignore the bullets whizzing past my head, lock my sights on the open doorway of the armory… and fire.
What happens next seems to occur in slow motion. A grenade explodes out of the bazooka with such force that I nearly topple out of the car. Thankfully Boom Boom has the presence of mind to gr
ab the front of my Kevlar vest. I regain my balance and watch as the missile streaks toward the armory, right through the open doorway.
Bulls-eye.
The explosion that follows is unlike anything I’ve ever seen or heard. A monstrous fireball resembling a small nuclear detonation mushrooms high into the sky. Even with us being hundreds of yards away, I still feel the scorching heat. Seconds later there’s a deafening KA-BOOM that shatters windows all over town.
After the first big explosion, hundreds of smaller ones go off as the fireball detonates all the bombs, grenades, mines, gun cartridges, and piles of gun powder stacked away in the armory. The fireball grows bigger and bigger until it engulfs the entire internment camp. But the raging inferno doesn’t stop there. The flames leap over the fence and spread from house to house. The Nazis stop firing at us and run away from the advancing flames.
“Holy crap, Lance, you blew Dresden to Hell and back,” Machete cackles.
A small fireball explodes out of the inferno and narrowly misses our car.
“That’s it, I’m getting out of here. I don’t care what you crazy people say.” Krystal slams on the accelerator and we zoom off toward the horizon. A cool breeze blows through the shattered front windshield, whipping my hair into a frenzy. I look out the back and watch as the flames quickly overtake a good chunk of the town. Thick, black smoke billows into the sky, blotting out the stars.
Boom Boom shakes her head in mild amusement. “What is up with us destroying all these places we visit?”
“I don’t know, but I definitely like your guys’ style,” Machete says, still laughing.
“So what do we do now?” Krystal asks.
Boom Boom pulls up a map on her goggles. “It looks like we’re only a day and a half from New Las Vegas. I say we keep flying for a while, stop for a few hours to get some shut-eye, and fly all day tomorrow. We should reach Vegas sometime the following afternoon.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” I say. “Mikhail Rasputin, ready or not, here we come.”
Chapter Fourteen: Boom Boom
When the bright lights of New Las Vegas come into view, the first thing I say is, “I can’t believe we actually made it. Over 3,000 miles in four and a half days. Un-freaking-believable.”
The others mumble their agreement. We went through so much crap to get here, but as soon as we left Dresden we barely had any problems at all. I’m not complaining, of course. But I do get the feeling the lack of action has pulled everyone into a false sense of security. We’ll have to snap out of that, and fast. The most dangerous part of our mission is about to begin.
“Man, this place is badass,” Krystal says from the front passenger seat, leaning half her body out the shattered window. (Machete took over flying responsibilities after spending the first night screaming at Krystal for her erratic aerial maneuvers.)
I have to agree with Krystal. Even in the afternoon the city lights are almost blinding. There are skyscrapers and elaborate casinos and clubs for as far as the eye can see. Some of the casinos are shaped like pyramids, others are giant spheres (almost resembling colossal golf balls), and others are dual towers connected by walkways.
“As much as I’d love for us to get a hotel here, it’s way too crowded.” Machete points to the massive crowd of people in the streets. “Every bounty hunter in the country is probably down on the Strip. They’ll be just as happy handing you guys over to Caesar as they would be nabbing Rasputin.”
It’s busy in the sky, too. Hundreds of cars are zooming around and cutting each other off, honking their horns and flashing middle fingers.
“There are cheap motels a few miles from here,” I say, checking my goggles. “We’ll be less likely to run into trouble if we hang out there.”
“Good suggestion, girlie.” Machete makes a crazy U-turn in mid-air, sending Lance and me colliding into our door. She then shoots off at break-neck speed, sending me crashing back into my seat. Thank God for seatbelts.
As we head toward a more rural area, I check the news on my goggles. There’s a report detailing how people are getting antsy as the Chinese continue threatening a surgical military strike if Rasputin is not apprehended. Some analysts believe the strike could happen in a matter of days. Footage is then shown of people all over the country flooding supermarkets to stock up on food and water. Rich people living in the sanctuaries are purchasing underground bunkers in near-record numbers. And of course crime in the slums and non-Sanctuary cities has skyrocketed as poor people commit increasingly brazen robberies to shore up on their meager supplies. The whole country is losing its collective mind.
I’m even more shocked by the report that pops up after that. European ‘Fuhrer’ Sarah Coulter has put out a rare press release stating she and the other leaders of the Fascist Empire of Bavaria (none of us in America call it that, we still call it Europe) are ‘appalled’ and ‘outraged’ by the assassination of the American Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan. Coulter’s statement claims the Wizard was a ‘great man and close friend of the Bavarian people’. The press release goes on to say the Bavarian Grand Wizard is ‘heartbroken’ over the murder of his ‘American brother of the cloth’, as is the rest of the Bavarian Nation. It ends by stating the Bavarian Ku Klux Klan and their Neo-Nazi brothers will work tirelessly until the Grand Wizard’s assassins are apprehended and executed. Good thing they don’t know it was us!
We reach the rural outer edges of New Las Vegas in no time. Machete parks in a wooded area and walks over to the front office of a cheap, $100 a night motel called the Poor Man’s Paradise. She returns moments later, dangling a key in the air.
“We’re in Room 36,” she says, pointing to the very back of the motel, the part that faces a wooded area. We’re out of sight of the main road. It’s the perfect spot for people who don’t want to be seen.
We all get out of the car and head inside the room. Machete turns on the light and about a dozen cockroaches scatter, crawling under the two beds and the sofa against the wall. The beds and sofa are covered in stains, as is the worn and tattered carpet. The door to the bathroom is open, so I can see the toilet looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in a year, and the shower curtain is yellow and moldy. There’s a giant crack on the ceiling that indicates the roof is one bad storm away from caving in, and the entire room smells like dirty feet and crap.
“This place is disgusting!” Krystal hollers, stomping on a roach that stupidly runs up to her.
“I agree,” Dorothy says, sticking out her tongue. “I’d rather sleep outside.”
“No one’s stopping you,” Machete says.
Arrow gives Machete a dirty look, prompting her to sigh and say, “We won’t be here that long. We just need a place to lay low until we make our next move.”
I cautiously sit down on the edge of one of the beds, making sure no critters are under the cover.
“Right now we don’t have many leads on where Rasputin may be hiding, save for he’s probably somewhere in Alaska,” I say. “And if he’s in Alaska, he may as well be here in New Las Vegas, since there’s such a concentration of Russian mobsters. There is, however, one person who’s most likely been in contact with Rasputin at some point within the past several weeks. Heck, he could be hiding him in one of his casinos for all we know. Igor Bolshevik.”
Machete nods. “Yeah, he’s rumored to be one of the most powerful Russian mobsters in the country. Arrow told me you guys were thinking about going after him.”
“So where is this Igor guy?” Dorothy asks.
“He owns a casino on the Vegas Strip. I bet you can’t guess what it’s called.”
“The Purple Dragon?” Dorothy says.
“Bingo. Rumor has it Igor is one of Rasputin’s biggest American supporters. He uses some of the hundreds of millions of dollars he makes from his casinos and drug smuggling to finance Rasputin’s terror operations. This is all ‘allegedly’, of course. Igor has never been formally charged for helping the Purple Dragons. But that’s probably because the A
merican Government isn’t too keen on arresting people who are helping destabilize their biggest foreign threat.”
“So we know where Igor’s at,” Dorothy says. “What’s the plan? How do we use him to get to Mikhail?”
“The most important thing is earning Igor’s trust. We have to convince him we want to join his gang. Once we do that, we can infiltrate his inner circle and hopefully locate Rasputin.”
Dorothy scoffs. “You’re making this sound like it’s going to be easy. How are we going to convince Igor we want to be in his gang, especially when you, Lance and Krystal are wanted by Caesar and Blackbird?”
I can’t help but smirk. Dorothy is a smart, observant girl, asking all the right questions. She really would make a good bounty hunter.
“First we’re going to need some good disguises. A lot of Russians nowadays dye their hair purple. They also wear leather jackets and carry around electric swords.’
“Electric swords?” Dorothy cries. “Aren’t those illegal?”
“Technically. But as with everything in America, you can find them if you know where to look.”
I personally hate electric swords. It looks like a pocket knife, but when you click the trigger a two-foot blade pops out. You then click another button and the sword heats up, so it slices through flesh and bone easier. That’s not its only purpose, either. The heated blade cauterizes any wound, preventing a victim from bleeding to death. This is useful in torture sessions, when you want to prolong the torture as long as possible. You can also make the sword electrified, which causes instant death when you stab someone. They’re nasty weapons, which is why even our ruthless government outlawed them. But the Ruskies love em.
“And you think just by dressing up Igor will hire you guys?” Dorothy asks.
“Not exactly,” Lance says, cutting in. “Russian gangsters are looking for new blood, since most of their gangbangers are older. That’s one thing we have in our favor, youth. But they’re probably going to have us go through an initiation first.”
“Like?” Dorothy inquires.
“They’re gonna want us to carry out a hit,” Krystal blurts out, munching on some beef jerky she bought from the store.”
Highway To Armageddon Page 25