Eighteen Wheels Of Vengeance (The Wasteland Chronicles)

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Eighteen Wheels Of Vengeance (The Wasteland Chronicles) Page 5

by Makarov, Ian


  Nukkie ducked under the dashboard, as bullets started hitting the semi. She kept the pedal to the metal, while looking out the lower porthole on her door to keep track of the edge of the road and keep the rig on it. The cab started getting ripped apart by rifle fire.

  “As long as they can't bring out anything heavier than that till I reach the gate, I'll be fine” she told herself, and pushed on the pedal harder. The good thing was that this patch of land was almost completely flat, so the semi had long reached its top speed, and wasn't going to be slowed down easily.

  Then again, who said anything about slowing down?

  With a speed of almost ninety miles an hour, the forty ton truck plowed through the gate, making the watchtowers collapse with it. Driven solely by inertia, the large hulk of steel plowed on through another couple of buildings as if they were built out of toothpicks, before making its way and stopping inside the main hall of the considerably more armored and fortified main building of the Stronghold.

  Nukkie coughed inside the cloud of dust, and tried to open the door. Not a chance, it was warped, jammed beyond hope. She kicked out a bit of debris and the remains of the windshield, and crawled out on the hood, taking her backpack with her. Pulling her guns, as a couple of robed adepts arrived into the main hall, Nukkie dispatched them before they could become a threat. She jumped off the now deformed truck's nose, and walked around towards the rear, climbing into the gap between the cab and the trailer. She pulled a long piece of tape off the trailer's bulkhead, revealing a neatly placed fuse. She took out a book of matches, and a cigarette. Rubbing the match against the rig’s skin, she lit the cigarette, then the fuse.

  “Make a wish, bitch.” She said letting out a cloud of smoke before jumping back down on the ground. “Now how about we get this party started?” She thought pulling her heavy revolver on one hand and a Mauser Military on the other.

  The air became thick with lead as she went out of the newly created hole to the courtyard. Using every cover she could, she started picking off the Brotherhood one by one. True they were better at praying and preaching than fighting. But wasn't that what they had the Lawmen for? This particular sect though, didn't want the hounds in its feet and they were paying dearly for their secrecy. One after the other, her robed opponents bit the dust as she was making her way towards the back of the compound.

  And then she spotted her prized target. On the rear entrance to the compound, two armed guards were escorting Nikolai to a getaway vehicle. Springing out of her cover, she took out the guards with two clean headshots. Nikolai turned around terrified. She raised her gun and started walking towards him slowly.

  “Bless me Father… For you have sinned…”

  As she was about to pull the trigger, a nearby guard, clinging onto his last breath, had found the courage to point his crossbow at her.

  The crossbow bolt planted itself in her thigh, and she fell to the ground, dropping her revolver.

  Nikolai grinned wide as he picked up the gun and pointed it at her head cocking it.

  “Repent, child and you shall be forgiven in the afterlife. Although, I could argue how you, Ms. Pliskin, are beyond saving. Not only was it brazen of you to invade this peaceful enclave after carving a path of death through the desert, it was also quite rude.”

  Nukkie sat up on the ground grabbing the bolt.

  “Oh I beg to differ. This is what we do to murderous scum where I come from.”

  Nikolai let out a laugh “Murderous scum? No, no, dear, you have me confused with your kind. I don't suppose you were kind enough to also bring us the vial were you?”

  “Dream on, punk, you will never find it.”

  “Quite on the contrary, my dear. I assure you that I will, sooner or later. And then, I will use its contents to cleanse this wasted land off the filth of your kind, and all the other misfit mongrels with them. The scum of the earth. Then the true age of light and justice, will begin. Too bad you won't be around to see it.”

  “I think I’ll take my chances.”

  “Oh well, Ms. Pliskin. As much as I enjoy our little banter, I'm afraid I have other commitments to attend to, and you, well I wouldn't want to be in your shoes right now.”

  “You're forgetting one very important thing Nikolai.”

  “Oh? And what would that be?”

  “You don't have what it takes to kill me.”

  “A weird choice for your last words, but who am I to object?”

  He pulled the trigger.

  *CLICK*

  His eyes grew wide as he realized what she meant. The gun was empty! She lunged herself onto him dragging him down on the ground. She pulled out her knife and mounted him, as he struggled to get away. She sat on his chest, and pinned down his elbows with her knees.

  “Well Nikolai, it looks like you will have to start paying attention to something other than yourself from now on. Oh wait. There is no 'from now on' for you.”

  “You insolent harlot! You will burn in hell!”

  She put her knife on his throat. “I guess I'll see you there then.”

  With a swift move, she pressed the blade into his jugular and sat there, staring into his eyes as they went blank and lifeless, the blood escaping freely from his slit throat. She stopped to listen to the desert wind howling as she stood up and limped to Nikolai's getaway vehicle. Feeling relieved that Jet's soul could now find peace, and that the mad cardinal's band of lunatics was out of traffic for good, she inspected her newest acquisition. The body had seen better days, but this convertible had once been a sign of prestige. She sat on the faded leather seats and ran her thumb on the badge adorning the center of the steering wheel sporting the emblem of a long-lost car maker. She wondered what it could have meant back then, but didn't give it a second thought. Nukkie turned the keys in the ignition, and the monstrous supercharged V8 came into life, the exhausts protruding from the hood singing a song that had remained the same for centuries and had inspired many. She sped off, and through the demolished gate, stopping a rough mile from the compound, turning around on the seat to look backwards.

  The explosives caught fire a few seconds later, as the fuse ended, and the so-called Stronghold scattered all around the area in a huge fireball. A couple of smaller explosions followed as the compound's armory and fuel dump caught fire.

  “This is for you, Jet” she whispered and sped off into the desert.

 

 

 


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