Highway To Armageddon Page 15

  The bruises around Dorothy’s eyes prove she’s not exaggerating any of this. It takes everything I have not to put a bullet through the skulls of the two perverts still in the room. I tighten my embrace around Sally when I notice her blinking back tears.

  “Big Daddy showed up the next day,” Dorothy continues. “He beat us even worse than his thugs did. He then decided to bring us here, to the Wild West. Big Daddy said we could make more money here.”

  Lance grits his teeth. “And where is this ‘Big Daddy’?”

  Lance clenches his fists so hard that they turned white. He’d love nothing more than to shove his pistol down Big Daddy’s throat and make him crap bullets. I’d like to do worse.

  “I… I don’t know,” Dorothy says, glancing over her shoulder. She must be afraid Big Daddy will reappear at any moment. “He usually stays in the back to drink and smoke with the other pimps.”

  “Maybe we should pay him a little visit,” Lance says, marching toward the door.

  “No,” Dorothy shouts. She runs over to Lance and grabs his arm. “Big Daddy is too dangerous. Boom Boom knows, he nearly killed her in Cincinnati.”

  Lance looks over at me and cocks an eyebrow. I avoid eye contact. I never mentioned how badly Big Daddy brutalized me, mostly because of everything that happened with Caesar. There’s no sense in bringing it up now.

  The first pervert I knocked out starts to stir. I promptly kick him in the head.

  “You’re losing your touch, Firecracker,” Lance says. “Usually when you take someone down they stay down for hours.”

  “I could say the same to you, blockhead.” I gesture toward the pervert Lance attacked, who is starting to stir as well. Lance casually walks over and socks the guy in the face. He immediately crumples to the floor.

  “So what are we going to do about the girls?” Lance asks.

  “You can’t leave us!” Sally cries. “We hate it here!”

  Lance bites his lip. He turns to me and says, “They can’t come with us to Vegas. It’s way too dangerous, plus we don’t have enough room in the Moon Cruiser. We could put them on a train to Sanctuary 7, but how do we know they won’t get caught again?”

  Sally grabs my arm. “Boom Boom, please don’t leave us. Please.”

  I wipe away Sally’s tears. “I won’t, sweetheart. We’ll figure something out.”

  Dorothy suddenly gasps. Sally screams and backs up onto the bed.

  I spin around and bump smack-dab into Pitbull. His face is scarred and blackened. Sparks fly out of his cracked robotic eyeball. The stench of scorched flesh floods my nostrils.

  “Miss me?” Pitbull snarls.

  I stumble backwards. “How in the hell did you find---”

  I never finish my sentence because Pitbull punches me in the face. Thankfully it’s with his normal arm. His robotic one probably would have killed me. Still, the blow is strong enough to knock me flat on my back.

  I sit up just in time to see Pitbull grab Lance by his neck and hurl him out the door and over the balcony.

  “LANCE!”

  I whip out my taser and blast Pitbull in the chest. He falls to his knees and shakes violently. More sparks fly out of his shattered eye socket.

  I wave at Dorothy and Sally, who are still cowering in the corner. “C’mon girls, let’s move!”

  Dorothy grabs Sally’s wrist and leads her out the door. I hit the retract button on my taser and ran after them.

  I lean over the railing on the balcony and glance down. Lance is sprawled out on top of the piano. The piano man gingerly helps him up. He looks a little dazed and confused, but thankfully he doesn’t appear seriously injured. His Kevlar vest must have cushioned his fall.

  Dorothy and Sally are just about to run downstairs when Big Daddy blocks their path.

  “And where do you hoes think you’re going?”

  “Big Daddy, we---ahhh!”

  Big Daddy smacks Sally, sending her to her knees.

  “I don’t wanna hear your damn excuse!” Big Daddy screams. “I shoulda slit your throat the first time you ran away. I told you there’d be no more second chances.”

  Dorothy scratches Big Daddy’s face with her long nails. Big Daddy howls in agony and grabs his bleeding cheek.

  I rush over and kick Big Daddy in the gut. I follow up with a kick to the side of his head. Big Daddy tumbles down the stairs.

  “You girls alright?” I ask, helping Sally up.

  “Y… yeah,” Sally stammers. The poor thing must be in a state of shock from all the chaos. Dorothy, however, is eerily calm. She’d make one hell of a bounty hunter.

  I lean over the balcony. Lance is back on his feet and trading blows with a cowboy. The whole saloon is still embroiled in a no-holds-barred brawl.

  I turn back to Dorothy and Sally. “You guys need to go outside and hide under a porch or something until we’re finished here.”

  “No, we’re not leaving you,” Dorothy says.

  “You can help me by going outside,” I snap. I’m about to go off on a tirade when Dorothy and Sally gasp and step back. I spin around to find Yang back-flipping out of a motel room, wielding a sword. She swings the sword directly at my head. I duck just in the nick of time. It’s a close call, too; several strands of my hair flutter to the ground.

  Dorothy and Sally flatten against the wall as Yang erratically swings her saber. I dodge her next few swipes, but I can’t keep it up forever. I catch a break when Yang’s sword gets stuck in the balcony railing. I kick the sword out of Yang’s hands and punch her in the face. Yang holds her nose and stumbles backwards. Dorothy rushes over and shoves Yang over the railing. Yang plummets to the first floor but somehow uses her cat-like reflexes to land on her feet.

  I lean against the railing to catch my breath. Avoiding decapitation from a psycho ninja takes a lot of energy.

  “T… thanks for the assist, Dorothy,” I gasp. “You were really impressive.”

  Dorothy shrugs. “It’s no big deal. I’m just tired of being pushed around. It’s time I stood up for myself.”

  I nod. I understand what she’s going through more than she’ll ever know.

  Just when I think things are starting to go our way, I’m proven wrong when Pitbull barges out of the motel room. He grabs me around the neck with his robotic arm and hurls me over the balcony like he did with Lance.

  I curl into a ball on my way down, so that my armor-plated back protects the rest of my body. I slam onto the piano. Sharp pain shoots up my spine. I don’t have time to wallow in my agony, however. Pitbull catapults himself off the balcony and flies straight toward me. I roll off the piano a split-second before impact. Pitbull crashes through the piano with his cyborg elbow, completely crushing it.

  I’m still groggy from my rough landing, and I’m definitely in no state to fight someone like Pitbull. I fumble for my gun, but my fingers don’t work properly.

  Pitbull emerges from the wreckage of the piano and lunges toward me. Just when he’s about to grab me, an arrow bounces off of his bulletproof vest.

  “Pick on someone your own size, you defective bucket of bolts,” Arrow shouts from the other side of the room. He fires another arrow, which Pitbull deflects with his robotic arm.

  “You just signed your own death sentence, punk,” Pitbull snarls, charging after Arrow. I’m grateful for the diversion.

  Lance lumbers over, clutching his lower back.

  “You okay, Firecracker?”

  “Not really.” I’m tempted to use the last two pills in my belt buckle. I knew I should have brought more along.

  Lance helps me to my feet. My knees buckle on my way up, and I fall into his arms.

  “I’ve got you, Firecracker,” he says softly.

  I look up at Lance and smile. Lance is always there to catch me when I fall. Our faces are so close I could lean forward and kiss him if I wanted to. Strangely, despite the war raging all around us, I’m tempted to.

  Our tender moment is abruptly interrupted when Lance drops me
and jumps back to avoid a throwing star. The star narrowly whizzes past Lance’s ear and imbeds into the back of an unfortunate cowboy. The cowboy shrieks and falls to his knees.

  Yang gives chase to Lance, who dashes into the back, drawing her away from me. Yin does a backflip off of a nearby table and swings her saber. I roll out of the way, just as the blade slices into the wooden floor. Yin’s about to swing at me again when Machete tackles her from behind. The blade clatters to the floor and Machete and Yin engage in a furious brawl.

  I lean against a table and brush my hair out of my eyes. Unconscious, bloodied bodies litter the floor. So do shattered bottles, broken stools, and collapsed tables. Still, there are plenty of cowboys on their feet, as well as tons of intact whiskey bottles. This brawl could go on all night.

  Dorothy and Sally are over by the counter, doing their best to stay out of the fray. I begin to make my way over to them when Big Daddy pops up out of nowhere.

  I’m too far away to stop when happens next. Big Daddy levels a pistol at Sally… and fires.

  I scream as Sally’s arms fly into the air and she falls backwards. Dorothy shrieks and claws Big Daddy’s face with her nails. Big Daddy pushes her away and aims his gun at her head.

  There’s another gunshot.

  Big Daddy turns to me, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and fear. He looks down at my pistol, which is emitting a thin plume of smoke. Big Daddy then looks down at the rapidly growing red circle leaking through his shirt.

  Big Daddy falters and leans against the bar. His eyelids droop, like it’s taking everything he has to prevent from being sucked into the black hole of death.

  I rush over to Big Daddy and aim my gun directly at his forehead.

  “See you in Hell, bitch.”

  I pull the trigger again, and Big Daddy’s head snaps back. He crumples to the floor, never to rise again.

  I wipe away the fresh blood splattered on my cheeks. Dorothy kneels down and holds Sally’s quivering hand. Sally’s face is as white as snow, and her whole body is convulsing. Blood trickles from her chest. A red puddle seeps out from beneath her.

  I clutch Sally’s other hand. It’s already cold and clammy.

  Tears stream down Sally’s face. In between sobs she says, “Oh God, it hurts so much. Dorothy, I… I don’t want to die…”

  Sally continues to cry. My heart cleaves in two. I’ve never seen something so horrible in my entire life.

  “Hang in there, Sally. Everything… everything will be okay.”

  Except it won’t be. Nothing will ever be okay again.

  Dorothy stares at me with eyes so watery I almost can’t see her hazel irises.

  “Isn’t there something you can do, Boom Boom?”

  I give an almost imperceptible shake of my head. Sally notices it and succumbs to an uncontrollable fit of sobs. I didn’t mean to be so blunt; it’s just that in situations like this, it’s impossible for me to lie. Still, I can’t sit here and let Sally die without doing something. I tear off my cowboy jacket and press it against her wound.

  “Dorothy, can you…”

  Dorothy nods and applies pressure to the makeshift bandage.

  Sally continues to cry out in pain. If only there was something I could…

  The pain! I can numb the pain!

  I flip open my belt buckle and grab my two remaining pills. For the briefest of moments I consider keeping them for myself. That’s when I realize my addiction has gotten out of hand. It’s changing me into a monster. I make a vow right then and there that I’m ending my addiction cold turkey. I don’t care if it kills me, I will not become a slave to addiction. Not if it’s going to destroy my very soul.

  I place the pills over Sally’s trembling lips.

  “Open your mouth, Sally. It’s medicine. It’ll help.”

  Sally opens her lips and I drop the pills inside. She takes a gulp and looks at me pleadingly, begging me to save her. I wish I could. I wish it more than anything in the world.

  The pills are fast-acting. It’s why I use them. Within a matter of seconds Sally’s cries of pain become nothing more than a murmur.

  Dorothy hovers over Sally, rocking back and forth while she massages her left hand. Her long, black hair dangles over Sally’s face. Sally’s eyelids droop, and her convulsions begin to stop. The puddle of blood has started to soak through my pants.

  “Sally, don’t leave us,” Dorothy sobs. “You’re all I’ve got…”

  Sally doesn’t answer. She’s beyond our help… beyond our prayers. I’ve seen this more times than I care to remember. Sally has entered the twilight zone between life and death, and rarely does one return from it.

  Dorothy brushes Sally’s matted hair out of her eyes. They’re now fully closed. Her breathing has slowed dramatically. I touch her wrist with my fingertips. Her pulse is barely detectable.

  “Sally?” Dorothy whispers. “S… Sally?”

  By now the breathing has stopped. I clasp her wrist, feverishly waiting for another thump of blood to gush through her veins. Something… anything.

  It never comes.

  “Sally?” Dorothy whispers again as a torrent of tears cascade down her cheeks.

  Sally doesn’t answer.

  She’ll never answer us again.

  Chapter Nine: Lance

  “Die you sniveling maggot!”

  Yang swings her blood-splattered blade. I jump back and trip over a fallen stool. I land on my back… hard.

  A cowboy bumps into Yang as she makes her way over to me. Yang plunges her sword into the poor cowboy’s chest. I think I now know where all the blood stains on her saber came from.

  Yang yanks the sword out of the cowboy and points it at me. I scoot back until I bump into something. I turn my head and see it’s another unconscious cowboy.

  I hold up my hands and say, “I thought you wanted to take us in alive!”

  “Plans changed after you twerps caught Pitbull on fire.”

  Yang swings her sword. I barely move out of the way in time. A bloodcurdling scream tells me she just hit the cowboy I was leaning against.

  Yang turns to deliver another strike, but I’m ready for her. I kick out both of my legs and sweep then under her feet. Yang topples over and lands face-first on the floor. Her sword clatters over to another cowboy, who snatches it up and runs off with it.

  “Give me back my damn sword!” Yank shrieks. She sprints after the cowboy and chucks throwing stars. The cowboy doesn’t stand a chance.

  I’m about to check on Boom Boom when I notice Pitbull hurling Arrow up against the wall. Arrow slides to the ground in a daze.

  “Hey, metal-brain! Over here!”

  Pitbull spins around and charges at me like a bull during mating season. I whip up my pistol and pull the trigger.

  And it clicks blank.

  “Son of a...”

  Pitbull grabs the front of my shirt and lifts me over his head.

  “Happy landings, punk.” Pitbull hurls me through the air. I fly all the way toward the back of the saloon and collide into a cabinet full of whiskey bottles. I slide to the floor as bottles crash all around me, soaking me in alcohol. Several shards of glass lacerate my exposed skin. The whiskey enters my wounds, worsening the pain.

  The bartender rushes over. “Oh my God, kid, are you alright?”

  “Do I freaking look alright?”

  “Okay, okay, don’t bite my head off. Sheesh.” The bartender puts his arms under my armpits and helps me to my feet.

  Pitbull makes his way over. “Give me the kid and I won’t snap your neck, old-timer.”

  The bartender grabs a shotgun hidden under the counter and aims it at Pitbull’s face. “You come any closer and I’ll feed you a mouthful of lead.”

  Pitbull snatches the barrel of the shotgun with his cyborg hand and snaps it in half. The bartender gasps and backs up against the wall. Pitbull grabs the bartender by his shirt and hurls him up over the bar and halfway across the room. The bartender crashes through one of
the few still-standing tables. He doesn’t get back up.

  Pitbull turns his attention back to me. I grab my mace and spray it in his face. It doesn’t faze him, though, I guess because his eyeballs are robotic. Ptibull grabs me and hurls me across the room as well. The world becomes a blur as I fly through the air and collide into two brawling cowboys.

  I groggily push myself off the floor. Pitbull charges over and kicks me in the gut. Even my Kevlar vest doesn’t do much to blunt the impact. I roll onto my back, gagging.

  Pitbull picks me up and tosses me again. This time I land on a table full of whiskey bottles. I slide off the table and collapse onto the floor, even more soaked than I was before.

  Pitbull stomps over and chortles. “Had enough yet, punk?”

  If I was smart I’d get up and run away. But I’m not smart, so I woozily stand up and say, “I’m just getting started. By the way, you hit like a bitch.”

  Pitbull flashes an evil smile, revealing his rotted, yellow teeth. “I like it when my prey shows a little fight. I like that a lot.”

  I lunge toward Pitbull and swing a punch. My fist connects with his right cheek, but it’s like I’m punching solid steel. I yelp and clutch my throbbing hand.

  Pitbull cackles and taps his blackened, rotting flesh. “Most of my skeleton is encased in a metallic coating. It’s a brand new procedure they just started, and I was one of their first patients. Makes me nearly indestructible.”

  I fall to my knees as the pain in my fist intensifies. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the little bones in my hand are broken.

  “My God,” I gasp, fighting through the pain. “You’re barely human.”

  Pitbull scoffs. “Being human is overrated.” He flexes his robotic arm. “This is the future. Soon we’ll all be robots. General Kang is over 90% robot, and I aim to outdo her. After I get that $10 million bounty for turning your carcass over to Caesar, I’m gonna get even more work done.”

  “Nice life story.” I notice an intact whiskey bottle a few feet away from me. Next to it is a still-lit cigar. One of the cowboys must have dropped it.