Highway To Armageddon Read online

  I try to move, but I can’t. My hands are bound behind my back. I’m sitting on a hard chair, and I’m wrapped in chains. I jerk backwards, causing my chair to move less than an inch. The chains jingle. If anyone else is in here with me, by now they’re aware I’m awake.

  I squint through the darkness. I make out a skylight on the ceiling. It’s dark, which means it’s nighttime. Damn, I’ve been out a long time. It must be cloudy because I don’t see any stars.

  Someone beside me moans. I turn to my right and see the silhouette of a person… a large person. The silhouette mutters, “When I get out of here, I’m going on an orphan killing spree.”

  I smile. Good old Krystal. Even after being beat half to death and tied up with chains, she still wants to kick some ass.

  “Psst, Krystal.”

  Krystal stops rattling her chains. “Lance? Is that you?”

  “Shhh. Be quiet.”

  Still talking too loud for comfort, Krystal says, “Oh, right, you think we should be quiet in case the bad guys are watching us. Good thinking. So what’s the plan?”

  “Are your chains loose?”

  Krystal’s silhouette bounces up and down, and her chains clatter against her chair. About a minute later she stops and says, “Nope.”

  I sigh. “Then I guess we wait.”

  My eyes quickly become accustomed to the dark. I can now see clearly enough to make out Krystal’s head. Bruises cover her face. Her right eye is almost swollen shut. Even more shocking, though, is the fact that her wig is missing. She looks so different with her short, natural hair.

  Krystal stares at me and says, “You look terrible.”

  “Thanks. You look like crap, too.”

  “Please tell me they didn’t mess up my hair.”

  I decide Krystal’s endured enough, so I lie and say, “It’s a little crooked, but other than that…”

  Krystal breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank God. This is my favorite wig.”

  Bright light floods my vision. I squint my eyes shut, but all I see is white.

  “What the hell!” Krystal shouts. “Turn off the damn light, fools!”

  I’m still blinded, but I hear cackling… lots and lots of cackling. My instincts were right; we aren’t alone.

  A familiar voice shouts over the laughter. “I told you two to kill yourselves. It’s a shame you didn’t take my advice. I really don’t enjoy torturing minors.”

  Theodore Maxwell.

  My vision is starting to come back. I still have to squint, but I can see people crowding around us. Lots and lots of people.

  Still rattling her chains, Krystal shouts, “When I get out of here, I’m ripping out your intestines and hanging you with them!”

  “Shut up, Krystal,” I snap. “Don’t give the lunatic any ideas.”

  I can now make out the people surrounding us. Most of them are rough looking men and women wearing leather jackets. Long hair dangles over their faces and tattoos cover every inch of their exposed skin.

  Standing next to the gangbangers are dozens of orphans. I sort of feel bad for them, even though they did try to kill us. I know they’re just trying to survive. For a lot of orphaned kids it’s either join a gang, work as a prostitute, or die.

  I look around at my surroundings. We appear to be in a massive abandoned factory. Cracked and shattered windows line all the walls. Fluorescent lights hang from the ceiling. Old, rusted machinery is all over the place, as are abandoned assembly lines.

  Doing my best to sound brave, I shout, “Let us go, Maxwell, and we promise you’ll get a fair trial. If you don’t… then I can’t guarantee your safety.”

  Maxwell and his fellow gangbangers bust out in deafening laughter. I take it they’re easily amused. The orphans simply stare at me in eerie silence. They’re really starting to freak me out.

  “Got any other bright ideas?” Krystal asks.

  “Relax,” I say. “Everything’s going according to plan.”

  Except it’s not.

  Maxwell and his gangbanging friends suddenly shut up. They all move to the side, revealing a tall, fat man wearing a velvet suit. The man has long, black hair, a goatee, and is wearing sparkling rings bejeweled with gleaming diamonds, rubies, and sapphires. A golden necklace hangs from his neck. The necklace spells out his name… Caesar.

  Maxwell and the gangbangers fall to their knees and bow their heads, like they’re being visited by some sort of messiah. The orphans fall to their knees, too, but not quite as quickly as Max and his pals. I take it they’re only doing what they think they should do, not what they feel they should do.

  Maxwell lifts his head ever-so-slightly and bellows, “Hail Caesar!”

  All the gangbangers and orphans respond in kind, shouting, “Hail Caesar!”

  Caesar nods and raises his right hand, prompting his followers to rise to their feet. He then hobbles over with a cane. I look into his dark eyes. They are full of hate. I hope he sees the same in mine.

  In a baritone voice Caesar says, “You two look much younger than your reputation would suggest.”

  “And you look uglier in person than you do on your wanted posters,” Krystal snaps back.

  Maxwell and the gangbangers growl and mutter under their breaths. I notice several of the orphans struggling to hide their smirks, including some of the ones who beat the crap out of me.

  Maxwell storms over and punches me in the side of my head. The pain from the blow envelopes my entire skull. I hear Krystal scream and cuss up a storm. I assume Maxwell hit her, too.

  “You will treat King Caesar with respect, you sniveling…”

  “Maxwell!” Caesar shouts.

  I crack open my eyes and watch as Maxwell slowly walks back to his fellow gangbangers. He continues glaring at me.

  Caesar puts both of his meaty hands on his cane and leans forward. He stares at me and Krystal for several long moments, as if he’s contemplating what sort of torture he should put us through.

  He finally says, “Why are you doing this?”

  The question takes me by surprise. I’m not sure what he’s talking about.

  Caesar repeats his question. “Why do you do this? Why do you hunt people trying to make an honest living?”

  An honest living? Is this guy on crack? Actually, he probably is. Crack is rumored to be Caesar’s hottest-selling product.

  “You are but children,” he continues. “Bounty hunting is not a suitable occupation for people so young.”

  “What do you suggest we do then?” I ask. “Work for you?”

  Caesar flashes me a grim smile. “I would have gladly hired you. You are brash, cunning, and brave. But it is too late for that. You have forfeited your right to work for me. You have forfeited your right to live.”

  Caesar starts pacing again. “You must know how dangerous I am. Why would you come after me? Why not go after easier prey?”

  “You know why,” I growl, unable to contain my anger. “You killed my uncle.”

  Caesar grins. “Ah yes, your world famous bounty hunting uncle, Dagger. He apprehended many of my men. How long has it been since I put a bullet in Dagger’s forehead? Two months? Three?”

  “Six, you son of a bitch.”

  Caesar chuckles. “Has it really been that long? My my, time flies when you’re having fun. So that’s what this is about then? It’s not about the money? This is about revenge?”

  “The money is the reason I tagged along,” Krystal says.

  Caesar shakes his head, almost as if he pities us. “Revenge is a poor motivator. It causes people to do stupid things.”

  Caesar waves his hand, and a teen boy dashes over with a small video camera. I know what’s next. Caesar is going to film our execution and stream it live over the internet. I never watched any of his infamous executions, but I heard enough about them to know we’re totally screwed.

  “I take it you know what’s next?” he asks.

  “Do your worst,” Krystal snarls. “You’ll never break us.”
<
br />   “Oh, I plan to. But first I want you to see why you’re being executed.”

  I had heard about this. Apparently Caesar likes to show his victims why they’re about to spend several hours being tortured to death. At least this will buy us some time.

  The lights dim and a holographic screen materializes on the back wall of the factory. A picture of two Hispanic teens pops up on the screen. I recognize them immediately. They’re Caesar’s nephew and son. Krystal and I apprehended them about a month ago. We made enough money off of that job to pay the rent, buy new weapons, and get a new car.

  Pacing in front of us, Caesar says, “My son and nephew were good kids. Loyal kids. They were next in line to run my empire. And what did you do? You invaded one of my nightclubs, beat my son and nephew within an inch of their lives, and took them to the authorities. Now they are facing the death penalty for kidnapping, murder, embezzlement, racketeering, fraud, and other unfounded accusations. Knowing our corrupt government, they’ve probably been tortured mercilessly.”

  This is most likely true. Several of Caesar’s top gangbangers have been arrested and assassinated in recent days. The feds have probably gotten all sorts of juicy intel out of his son and nephew.

  The holographic screen vanishes, and the bright lights once again blast my fragile eyes.

  “Your execution is going to be particularly gruesome, but it is a necessary evil,” Caesar says. “My enemies must realize there are serious repercussions for interfering with my business. Unemployment in this country hovers around 80%. Unlike our corrupt government, I provide high paying jobs. The government is jealous of my success, which is why they have out-sourced our apprehension to people like you… young, naïve, incompetent children.”

  Caesar wobbles toward the rear of the factory. I take it he doesn’t want to get blood splattered all over his velvet suit.

  Maxwell and several of his gangbanging pals begin to approach us. They are armed with bats, tire irons, stun guns, knives, and pliers. I struggle to remain calm, but my heart is beating so fast it feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest.

  The teen with the camera closes in on us. He smiles like a sadistic lunatic.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, why do you need the pliers?” Krystal shouts, thrashing around in her chair like crazy.

  “What else am I going to use to yank out your teeth?” cackles a biker chick with a serpent tattoo on her neck.

  Maxwell holds up a canister of gasoline. “After we break every bone in your body, we’re gonna set you on fire. I hope you have a high tolerance for pain!”

  “Lance?”

  I glance over at Krystal. I’m stunned by what I see in her eyes… fear.

  “Stay calm,” I say. “Everything’s going according to plan.”

  Except it’s not. I look up at the skylight. Where the hell is she?

  A sharp pain explodes throughout my skull. Maxwell waves a bat in front of my face.

  “You like baseball, kid? Batter’s up!”

  Another sharp pain shoots through my head. I cry out in agony.

  “Stop it, you jerks!” Krystal cries, thrashing around in her chair.

  Maxwell points his bat at Krystal as all the gangbangers in the factory shout and cheer. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll get to you soon enough. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.”

  The biker chick with the serpent tattoo loosens my chains and yanks out my right arm. She grabs my wrist and places the pliers around my index finger. I try to break out of her grasp, but she’s too strong.

  “Can we go back to the bat?” I shout frantically.

  The biker chick applies pressure on the pliers. I close my eyes and grit my teeth. I feel the bones in my finger beginning to crack.

  I squint through my tear-filled eyes up at the skylight.

  Come on, Boom Boom! Where are you?

  Maxwell pushes my head back and places a blade near my eye. He leans in so close I get a whiff of his breath. It smells like crap.

  “You have nice, green eyes. They’ll look good with my collection. I keep the eyes of all my victims.”

  The blade inches closer… and closer… and closer. And the pliers squeeze tighter… and tighter… and tighter… And I smell gasoline. Someone’s pouring it under my chair.

  “No!” Krystal screams. “Stop it! STOP!!!”

  I stopped believing in God the day my parents died. But I find myself doing something I haven’t done in years.

  I pray.

  I’m stunned I would do something like that.

  I’m even more stunned when my prayers are answered.

  Just as my index finger is about to be snapped in half, the skylight shatters in a shower of glass. Maxwell and the biker chick both jump back and cover their heads as shards of glass rain down all over us. Several of the shards slice my exposed skin.

  But I don’t care.

  The cavalry has arrived.

  All the orphans run for the exits. That makes sense to me. They just want food to eat and a place to sleep. They don’t want to die for their King Caesar. Maxwell and the gangbangers, however, are a different story. They all stand their ground and point their guns and rifles at the shattered skylight.

  “You okay, Lance?” Krystal asks.

  I spit out a mouthful of blood. “No, but sadly I’ve been worse.”

  “How did the feds find out where we are?!” Caesar shouts. “We just moved our base here two days ago!”

  Poor, stupid Caesar. He thinks the feds are about to raid his factory. It’s actually much worse than that.

  He’s about to be attacked by my psychotic ex-girlfriend.

  The gangbangers spend several frantic seconds spinning around, pointing their guns up at the skylight and peeking out the factory windows.

  Maxwell finally shouts, “I don’t see anyone out there, boss. Maybe it’s nothing.”

  “You idiot, nothing can’t shatter a freaking skylight!” Caesar hollers.

  I look up at the skylight just in time to see a small, spherical object fall inside the factory. A split-second later the object detonates in a brilliant burst of green light. All the lights in the factory instantly fizzle out. We are once again plunged in darkness.

  “That was an EMP bomb!” Maxwell screams. The fear in his voice is unmistakable.

  Orange flashes light up the pitch-black factory as Caesar’s thugs unload their guns. I watch in horror as bullets pour through the open skylight.

  Someone drops through the skylight from a grappling hook, miraculously avoiding the bombardment of ammunition. I assume it’s Boom Boom. I lose track of her as she hits the ground. Then I hear screaming. Lots and lots of screaming.

  Every few seconds there’s enough gunfire to allow me to see what’s going on. Electric-blue streams of electricity begin spiraling all over the room. Bodies pile up on the floor. The biker chick with the serpent tattoo is standing less than ten feet away from me when a stream of electricity sends her flying across the factory.

  That’s when I realize a spark of electricity has ignited the puddle of gasoline under my chair.

  I’m about to be burned alive.

  I begin to panic… again. I thrash around like crazy, struggling to loosen my chains. Some of the flames flicker up my pant legs.

  “Lance!” Krystal screams. Her chains are rattling around so loudly that they almost drown out all the screams and gunfire.

  The flames have now reached my thighs. There’s so much chaos around me that I can’t think straight. People are screaming, tentacles of electricity are spiraling all over the place, and the incessant flashes of gunfire is about to cause me to have an epileptic seizure.

  I cry out. The flames have burned through my pants and are starting to cook my skin.

  “Boom Boom! Help!”

  I see a flash of movement in the dark, then I topple backwards. My head slams against the steel floor.

  A gorgeous, red-headed girl hovers over me. She’s wearing night-vision goggles, and she’s holding wi
re-cutters in one hand and a semi-automatic machine gun in the other. Dozens of rounds of ammunition are strapped to her bullet-proof vest.

  Boom Boom.

  Without saying a word my, my ex kneels down and cuts through the chains wrapped around my feet. I try to keep quiet, but I can’t. The flames are scorching my legs.

  Seconds later my feet are free. Boom Boom grabs my inflamed pants and rips them off. I glance up just as she tosses the flaming pants on top of an injured mobster lying in a pool of blood. The mobster screams as the pants engulf him in flames.

  Boom Boom moves at lightning speed, snapping through all my chains. Seconds later I jump to my feet. Just in time, too. The entire chair is now bathed in fire. I tear off my smoldering shirt and toss it off to the side. Great, now I’m down to my boxers.

  I glance around and notice the mobsters are still being electrocuted. But Boom Boom is standing next to me.

  “Did you bring someone with you?” I ask.

  “Nope,” Boom Boom replies. “Just a UFO.”

  I look up and see a tiny flying saucer whizzing around the factory, releasing dozens of electrical blasts. A bullet suddenly slams into it, causing the flying firearm to plummet to the floor.

  “Well that was a waste of $15,000,” Boom Boom gripes.

  Now that the UFO’s destroyed, the gangbangers focus their firepower on us. Boom Boom drags me behind an assembly line just as a trillion bullets streak over our heads. We both peek under the assembly line and gasp. Krystal is still bouncing around in her chair in the middle of no-man’s land.

  I start to stand up, even as bullets careen overhead. Boom Boom yanks me back down and shouts, “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m helping Krystal!” I shout back

  I try to stand up again, but Boom Boom elbows me in the stomach.

  “You’re going to get yourself killed. Let me handle this.”

  Boom Boom unlatches a grenade from her utility belt and hurls it toward the rear of the factory. A blinding explosion shatters most of the factory windows. The blast rattles my ear drums, causing an incessant ringing sound. The screams multiply.