Highway To Armageddon

by Bloemer, Harold

  Lance shoves me off of him and clambers to his feet. His forehead is bleeding pretty badly. He starts to run back toward the hatch door.

  I grip his wrist. “You can’t help her, Lance! She’s gone!”

  Lance shoves me so hard my head slams against the cabinet.

  “No, Boom Boom, I can still save her!” he shouts, delirious from pain and sorrow. “I promised her I’d keep her safe!”

  I really don’t want to do this, but it’s time for some tough love. I punch Lance in his face, sending him stumbling back on his ass. Blood gushes from his nose. I may have broken it.

  I don’t give Lance a chance to get back up. I lean on top of him and hold down his thrashing arms.

  “Lance, please, pull yourself together!” I plead. “I need you! I can’t do this alone. Please, help me!”

  Lance’s watery eyes focus on mine. I can see his madness finally fading away.

  “Boom Boom, I…”

  His eyes widen in terror.

  “Boom Boom, look out!”

  Lance shoves me aside and rolls to the other side of the chopper, just as a barrage of bullets rip into the steel floor. I spin around to find Klaxton marching toward us, her machine gun emitting a thin plume of smoke.

  “You damn kids ruined my perfectly orchestrated plan! You’ve soiled my legacy! Now you’re gonna die!”

  Klaxton fires off more bullets. I leap through the gunfire and roll into the cockpit.

  Klaxton unleashes another salvo. I flatten against the wall, narrowly avoiding her shots. The barrage of artillery rips the control panel to shreds. Part of it erupts in flames.

  The fire spreads rapidly. I need to get out of the cockpit before it turns into an oven. I’m already sweating like crazy.

  I peek my head through the doorway. Klaxton is less than ten feet away. She aims her gun at my head and fires off another shot. I barely move out of the way in time.

  Just when I think all hope is lost, the crackle of electricity reminds me I’m not alone.

  I leap back into the cabin just as Lance fires lightning bolts at Klaxton. Klaxton ducks behind a filing cabinet.

  “Let’s finish her,” I growl, cocking my gun.

  We close in on Klaxton and prepare to blast her out of hiding.

  That’s when the propellers decide to stall.

  “That’s not good,” Lance groans, looking up at the roof of the chopper.

  The lights flicker off, plunging us into darkness. The cabin remains somewhat illuminated by the soft blue glow emanating from Lance’s glove and the raging inferno in the cockpit.

  Klaxton emerges from her hiding place. He face is red from the flickering flames. She looks like a demon from the depths of Hell.

  “Looks like this flight is about to end early. Sayonara, suckers!”

  Klaxton barges past us, shoving us aside with her armored arms. She then leaps out of the hatch door and drops out of sight.

  “Holy crap, did Klaxton just commit suicide?” Lance cries.

  We run to the door and peer out. Klaxton suddenly zooms in front of us. Her exoskeleton has sprouted gleaming metallic wings, just like Rasputin’s. She rockets toward the horizon like some sort of giant, mechanical bird.

  An explosion in the cockpit sends Lance and me flying all the way to the back of the cabin. An instant later the chopper goes into a nosedive.

  Lance and I crash into a couple of cushioned, nailed-down chairs in the center of the chopper. It’s the only thing that prevents us from tumbling into the flaming cockpit.

  Lance wraps his arms around me. “I’ve got you, Firecracker! Hang on!”

  “Lance, I don’t think we’re going to make it!” I cry as we continue our plunge toward Earth. “From this high up there’s no chance we’ll---”

  “Don’t talk like that, Boom Boom!” Lance shouts, cutting me off. He pauses for a second, then blurts out, “I have to tell you something, something I should have said a long time ago! I…”

  Lance never finishes his sentence. We slam into a river and the entire chopper vibrates, like a bomb has gone off. A wall of water immediately rushes into the cabin.

  “Take a deep breath!” Lance shouts as the water gushes up to our necks.

  We both inhale as much oxygen as we possibly can, then close our mouths, just as the freezing water rises past our heads.

  The water is so frigid it feels like I’m being stabbed by a thousand daggers. It takes all of my self-control not to open my mouth and scream. I clutch Lance’s hand and we swim out the hatch door, out into the abyss.

  For a second I’m so disoriented I can’t tell what’s up and what’s down. If the sun were out I’d be able to see the light. With it being an overcast night it’s dark in every direction

  Lance tugs on my arm and points at the chopper. It’s slowly sinking. So that’s the bottom. We kick our legs and swim toward the surface.

  We don’t get very far, though. The chopper suddenly explodes underwater. Pieces of debris whiz past us, slicing my arms and legs. One piece leaves a nasty gash across Lance’s already bleeding forehead. He opens his mouth involuntarily, then thrashes around as he starts to drown. I quickly lose my grip on his hand. Matters are further complicated when the explosion creates an underwater tsunami that sweeps us apart. I flip around in circles, losing all sense of direction.

  I immediately panic. I’m rapidly running out of oxygen and I don’t know where the surface is. My lungs feel like they’re on fire. My entire body is wracked by wave after unrelenting wave of excruciating pain. I feel like I’m in a dark, watery tomb, which is only exacerbating my claustrophobia. And Lance is nowhere to be seen.

  Just when I’m on the verge of suffering a major mental breakdown, I notice pieces of debris sinking past my head. I kick my feet and swim like mad in the opposite direction.

  Just when my lungs feel like they’re about to burst, my head explodes out of the river. I gasp and thrash around. I enjoy my first few mouthfuls of luxurious air before I focus on finding Lance. I spin around in a complete circle to gather my bearings. The river bank is about 100 yards away. Pieces of the chopper float past me, heading downstream.

  “Lance!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Lance!”

  I don’t see him anywhere. Panic floods my body. I already lost Dagger, Arrow, and Krystal. I can’t lose Lance, too. I’ll descend into madness.

  “Lance!” I shriek. “LANCE!”

  Something splashes out of the water about 20 yards away from me.

  “Lance?”

  I swim toward the thrashing figure. When I get within ten yards I make out Lance’s shaggy purple hair. He’s alive!

  I swim up to Lance and place my arm under his armpit. Blood pours from his head. He doesn’t look good.

  “Lance, are you okay?” I ask in a trembling voice.

  Lance doesn’t respond. He closes his eyes and starts to sink back under the water. I slide his right arm around my shoulder to prop him up.

  “Hang in there, Lance,” I say, struggling to keep us both afloat. “We’re almost there. Just hang on.”

  After what seems like an eternity we finally wash ashore. I toss Lance on his back and collapse to my hands and knees, my fingers sinking in the mud. I spit out a mouthful of water and start hacking, freeing my lungs and throat of any residual liquid. My entire body shivers from the icy river. If I don’t warm up soon I’ll suffer from hypothermia.

  I crawl over to Lance and cradle his head in my hands. His skin is ice-cold, and his face has turned blue. His eyes are still shut and he doesn’t appear to be breathing.

  “Lance?”

  I shake his head. He doesn’t stir.

  “Lance! Wake up!”

  I touch his neck. I don’t feel a pulse, but it could be because my fingers are frozen. I press my ear against his chest, listening for a heartbeat. All I hear is a continuous ringing sound. My eardrums still haven’t recovered from the pulsating explosion in the helicopter.

  I begin performing CPR. I cla
sp my hands together and press down on the area above Lance’s rib cage, giving quick, powerful thrusts with my palms.

  Nothing happens.

  “C’mon, Lance,” I mumble, quickening the thrusts. Pretty soon I’m pounding away on his chest.

  By now I’m gripped in hysteria. “Goddamn it, Lance, don’t leave me! I can’t do this alone! I need you! Wake up! Please! WAKE UP!”

  I eventually keel over from exhaustion. I rest my head on Lance’s chest and break down in sobs.

  “Lance… don’t do this to me. Please… don’t leave me…”

  A suffocating sense of hopelessness washes over me, robbing me of everything but loneliness and despair.

  And then he coughs.

  I jerk my head up and stumble back. I wipe away my tears and whisper, “Lance?”

  He coughs again.

  “Lance!”

  The ocean of despair has parted, as surely as the Red Sea parted for Moses. I scramble over to Lance and begin applying pressure on his chest again. Lance coughs some more, and an unfathomable amount of water gushes out of his mouth. It’s like a pipe bursting underneath a sink. Lance crawls to his hands and knees and continues vomiting up water, until it’s all out. The coughing continues, but he’s alive.

  I’m no longer alone.

  Lance plops down on his butt and wipes his mouth. “Wh… what happened?” he blubbers.

  I respond by throwing my arms around him and squeezing him tight. Lance is caught off guard for a moment, but he eventually returns the embrace when he hears me crying.

  “It’s okay, Firecracker. I’m alright.”

  In between sobs I choke out, “I thought I lost you. I can’t lose you! First Dagger, then Sally, then Arrow, then Krystal, then Dorothy…. If I lost you, too, I was going to lose it.”

  Lance squeezes me tight and runs his fingers through my soaked hair. “Shhh. It’s okay. I’m fine. I’m not leaving you, I promise.”

  “I know that,” I say, burying my face in his chest. “You never leave me. You’re always there for me, through thick and thin. I… I love you, Lance. I always have and I always will. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Lance continues to hold me in his comforting embrace. “I love you, too, Firecracker. That’s what I was trying to say on the helicopter, before we crashed.”

  I back away a bit and stare into Lance’s eyes. They’re completely different from Arrow’s. Arrow’s irises were like milk chocolate. Lance’s are icy-blue. But there’s a tenderness there, just below the icy surface.

  “You have the most amazing emerald eyes,” Lance says, leaning toward my lips.

  I don’t back away. In fact, I lean forward to close the gap. Our lips meet for the first time in months and we engage in a passionate kiss. It’s different from when we used to make out. This time we truly mean it.

  Our lips remain pressed together for what seems like hours. We finally part, but we remain entangled in a loving embrace.

  “We were made for each other, you know that, right?” Lance says quietly, still gazing into my eyes. “We’re both lone wolves who keep looking for love. We’ve tried so hard to find other people, but it never works out. They always end up getting hurt… or worse. It’s because of the nature of our work. No matter how hard we try to deny it… to make it not so… destiny finds a way of bringing us back together. I say we stop fighting destiny and just accept it.”

  “You’re right,” I say, resting my head back on his chest. “We need to quit dragging other people into our ruthless, brutal world. All we need is each other. We were just too blind and foolish to see it… until now.”

  A car engine rumbles off in the distance, causing us both to jump back.

  “What the hell?” Lance grumbles. He holds up his right hand, which is still encased in Mikhail’s computerized glove. The fingertips turn electric blue. I’m not sure how he’s controlling it. It’s probably through the computer chip in our brains.

  I reach for my gun, purely out of habit. When I feel nothing hanging from my waist, however, I’m reminded I’m unarmed.

  Lance steps in front of me and points his glowing hand in the direction of the rumbling engine.

  “What do you think it is?” I ask, peering over his shoulder.

  “I have no clue,” Lance says, sounding nervous. “It could be the Russians, or maybe it’s Klaxton’s secret service detail coming to look for her.”

  I bite my trembling lip. Neither of us are in any condition to fight. I hope whatever’s coming is friendly.

  Intense headlights blast our fragile eyes. Lance and I step back and squint at the vehicle that emerges.

  “Who’s there?” Lance shouts, his gloved hand crackling with electricity. “Reveal yourself before I blow you to smithereens!”

  The lights turn off, plunging us back into darkness. A familiar voice shouts, “Lance? Boom Boom? Is that you?”

  “K…Krystal?” I stammer.

  A massive, wild-eyed black woman suddenly comes charging at us.

  “Boom Boom! Lance! You guys are alive!”

  Krystal swallows me up in a crushing bear hug and spins me around, making me dizzy. She finally lets me go and rushes over to smother Lance.

  I clutch my head. My entire world is spinning. But I’ve never been happier. Blinking back tears of joy, I exclaim, “Krystal, I can’t believe you’re alive! We saw you crash!”

  Still hugging Lance, Krystal says, “The engine came to life right before I was about to. I was able to glide to the ground, but when I landed the left wing fell off. I drove along the river bank, following the wreckage of the chopper. I hoped beyond hope I’d eventually find you guys. And I did! I did find you!”

  Krystal starts blubbering. “I… I’m so glad you guys are okay. I would have been lost without you.”

  Lance pats our sobbing friend on her back. “We would have been lost without you, took, Krystal. You and Boom Boom are my best friends… my only friends, really.”

  “I love both of you guys,” Krystal says in between sniffles.

  “We love you, too,” I blubber back, joining the group hug.

  We embrace each other for a long, long time, shedding tears over our traumatic ordeal. It’s a cathartic experience, one we all badly need.

  Krystal finally steps back and wipes her eyes on her sleeve. “Can we go home, guys? I just… I’d really like to go home.”

  I crack a genuine smile. It’s the greatest idea I’ve ever heard.

  “Yes. Let’s go home.”

  Chapter Twenty-One: Lance

  One week later…

  I hate funerals. I always have and I always will. And even though Arrow and I never got along, I hate his funeral more than most.

  I hate how he died. I hate how I feel partially responsible, since I wasn’t nearby to help him take down Rasputin. I hate how he died saving Boom Boom, making me feel like I’ll never be able to pay him back… especially now that he’s gone. I hate how his death reminds me of all the people who died before him. My parents. Dagger. Sally.

  Dorothy.

  A frigid breeze sweeps rain in my face, forcing me to close my eyes. It’s not raining hard, but the priest has been droning on for so long that my suit is now soaking wet. My drenched hair hangs over my face. I keep shaking my head to get the hair out of my eyes, but it doesn’t do any good. My damn hair always manages to fall back over my eyelids. I am glad to see my hair is back to its natural blond hue. It took days for the purple dye to wash away.

  Boom Boom leans against me while quietly sobbing into a handkerchief. The poor thing’s been distraught for days, ever since we learned the date of Arrow’s funeral. According to the media, Machete carried Arrow’s body through Rasputin’s burning lair so she could give him a proper burial. At first I wondered how the media learned all this, but then I remembered Pitbull’s robotic mosquito recorded everything going on in the dungeon. It must have continued recording after Boom Boom and I left.

  Boom Boom was hurt that Machete
never bothered to stop by and check on us, or to tell us about the funeral. We only found out when we saw Arrow’s obituary on the Sanctuary 7 Gazette’s website. I don’t think Machete is even aware we’re here. She’s been sitting up front, crying over Arrow’s casket all afternoon. She keeps murmuring, “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” It’s enough to break my heart. Arrow’s death has completely shattered Machete. He was all she had. That’s even more evident by the fact no one else is at the funeral. There are rows and rows of nothing but empty chairs. Like us, Machete and Arrow had no family, and few, if any, friends.

  I glance behind us. Krystal is sitting with Blade and Harpoon. The kids are behaving themselves for the most part, which is remarkable considering they both have bad cases of ADD. They do occasionally shove each other, but they knock it off when Krystal twists their ears.

  Blade and Harpoon were so excited to see us when we first got back, but they were nowhere close to being as happy as I was. I think Boom Boom and I hugged and kissed them for a good half an hour before they managed to squirm away. Unfortunately, Krystal’s grandmother took a turn for the worst while we were gone. Mrs. Madison had to call the ambulance and have her taken to the hospital. Doctors fear she may only have a few days left. Krystal’s putting on a strong face, but I can tell the prospect of losing her grandmother is bothering her. It’s bothering us all. When she goes we won’t have any guardian figures looking out for us. We truly will be on our own.

  The rain picks up in intensity. We could easily move up a few rows, so that we’re underneath the canopy hanging over Arrow’s casket. But I get the feeling Machete wouldn’t like that very much. I don’t want to upset her more than she already is. Just one week ago she was cocky and fiery, ready to take on an army of bad guys at a moment’s notice, never showing any emotion save for anger and annoyance. Now she is but a shell of her former self, robbed of the one thing that brought her happiness… her only child.

  While the priest rattles off passages from the Bible, I glance around at the rest of the Sanctuary 7 Cemetery. The beautiful, three-story funeral home is off in the distance, towering over a tranquil lake. A bunch of ducks and geese are in the water, quacking and diving for food. The entire cemetery is massive, with dozens of lakes and streams. Hundreds of elaborate tombs, statues, and mausoleums are scattered all over the place. Tall trees hang over the smaller gravesites, providing shade to weeping visitors when they visit in the scorching summer months. Now most of the trees are barren, their leaves covering the ground as a result of the rapidly approaching winter.