TKFA 6: Highway to Hell

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TKFA 6: Highway to Hell

Post by Kubo »

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This feeling was unlike anything he had ever felt. Hanging upside-down in the seat of his car, blood blurring everything he could see. His fingertips grazed the cool plastic of the seatbelt buckle, but struggled to press down on the red lettering. Failing, his arm swung back down and hit the wet roof of the car. It was wet with his blood. He tried again for the buckle, straining so hard that he started seeing spots. The buckle clicked. He fell awkwardly and tried to clear his spinning head. He could barely see out the shattered car window, but he heard the distant rumbling of a car. Scurrying out of the overturned vehicle like a blind mouse, his hands met the rain-soaked pavement. He disregarded the shards of glass that embedded in his skin as he dragged the rest of himself out of the wreck. All he could focus on was the sound of the nearing car. Time was running out.

Earlier…

“Hey, Cesar,” Sal’s stern yet friendly voice greeted. “You didn’t answer your phone, so I figure you’re out with a lady friend or in the shower.” A snicker. “Anyway, Airako insisted that I call because you haven’t been around lately. I don’t know if you’re sick or what, but we were just checking in. ‘D like to see you sometime. There’s a new Marvel movie coming out—another one, I know—and I think it’d be a nice way to catch up…as friends, you know? Get back to me, man. See you around.”

Cesar placed the phone on the arm of the chair he was sitting in. The message was several days old, but it was the first time Cesar had bothered to check. He deleted the message and sunk back into the show he was watching. Life had slowed for Cesar, and his time was best spent propped up in front of the television. Shortly after the war, the superpowers everyone possessed had disappeared. No one had an explanation, but it meant the retirement of the Superhero Super Squad and the end of their adventures. They all went their own way, with Alex and Rebecca returning to Macan, and the rest sticking together in the heart of the city. Despite the dramatic change, they made the transition with grace. Cesar, who moved into a tiny house in the suburbs, did not. A disconnect sprouted between Cesar and the rest of the group, and he let it grow willingly. The afterglow of fame remained, and going out meant unwanted attention, something Cesar despised. What happened to the days of old, when he was able to live a normal life? A slow tracing of his stubbly jawline with his hand erased the thought from his mind. This, this life he now had was as close to normal as he was going to get. Even if it meant being alone.

The chair vibrated. Cesar’s eyes locked on the lit screen. Sal was calling again. His hand hovered over the phone. Then, it settled back in his lap. The phone continued to buzz before going to voicemail.

His eyes glazed over as he watched the television screen. They may’ve been trained on the black and white image of M, but he focused on the phone beside him. It no longer buzzed, but the missed call notification lingered. The green box may’ve been in his peripherals, but it was infinitely more apparent than Peter Lorre’s shadow looming over a little girl. With some reluctance, his fingers gripped the phone and unlocked the screen. He took his eyes off of Lorre for only a moment to guide himself through the screens leading to his voicemail. As soon as he tapped the button to initiate the call, he watched the television again.

Sal’s voice greeted Cesar, but it was not the same as before. A great urgency had overtaken him, and it lacked the jovial tone of before. “Cesar, listen… I know you’re tired of being the hero, but…there’s a man coming, and I think he means business. Hayes told me all about this guy, this uh….Bandit Keith. Nobody knows where he came from or who he is, but he has made it clear that he wants you dead. This would seem like an illegitimate threat, you know, we’ve had that happen before, but….” Sal’s voice quivered. A chill ran up Cesar’s neck. “Cesar, I wouldn’t say something like this unless I meant it. You need to get out of TK Ville now. I fear we can’t stop him.”

The voicemail ended.

Peter Lorre was whistling “In the Hall of the Mountain King”. The phone slowly fell from Cesar’s ear. His hands were trembling. He stood up and started for the darkened kitchen. The keys to his car were in a drawer, buried underneath countless pens and pencils. They scattered across the floor as he pulled the keys out and rushed for the garage.

As the garage opened, there was a knock at the front door. Neither Cesar nor the visitor were aware of the other’s presence because the garage was tucked in the back of the house and surrounded by summery green foliage. The Mustang door shut. The front door flew open. The engine revved up and quickly shoved into gear. Cesar’s foot slammed down on the pedal. He gritted his teeth, barely rounding the corner clean. It was then he noticed the intimidating black vehicle parked on the street in front of his house. The front end had a supercharger protruding from its center. Cesar turned his head and noticed a figure standing in front of his already opened front door. A woman with short blond hair, black, circular goggles, and a black jumpsuit leaned against the doorframe, watching something going on inside. She noted the green vehicle in the driveway and her mouth opened in a cry to someone. His foot pressed the pedal to the floor, and the car wildly rolled onto the street, taking out a mailbox of a neighbor in the process. Cesar didn’t look back as the woman bolted for the black vehicle. He never saw the man come out from his house, dressed in a black leather jacket and bandana. The vehicle was roaring down the suburban street three times the speed limit and accelerating. Despite that, Cesar had control. He gripped the wheel, white knuckled and breathing hard.

Suddenly, the wheel lurched to the left. All the momentum bowed Cesar’s spine and his body lurched towards the passenger window. The Mustang flipped several times before crashing into a parked vehicle on the street. From Cesar’s house, Bandit Keith looked on at his prey through the iron sight of his magnum. He could’ve killed Cesar at that moment, that hapless and unconscious soul. But Keith wanted to see who he came all the way across the Barrens for beg for life. The two intruders got back in the black car and readied the supercharged engine.

Inside, the television showed an empty place at a dining table.

Cesar used the side of the van he crashed into as support, raising from the glass-covered street. He felt his way around the vehicle. He didn’t dare let his hand lift from the slick metal, or else he’d topple over. There were eyes upon him, of people hiding behind closed windows and of people pursuing him. He kept moving, finally forcing his feet to carry all of his weight. Cesar’s steps were quick and he sprinted for the nearest backyard. He had to stay off the streets at all costs. When he hoisted himself over the fence, Cesar felt a sudden a wave of fear crash over him. Never in his life had he been so afraid. There was nothing between him and death except a fence and his will to run. The next bullet, Cesar thought as he lunged over a creek bed, was sure to find its mark, if Keith was able to take out his car with only one. The sound of the car was fading, and Cesar’s feet dragged in the moist grass. After the crash, his body could not will itself to press on through another yard. His knees sunk into the mud and he fell onto his hands.

Someone’s porch door opened. A boy, at the panicked cries of his mother, raced out to Cesar. He was no older than thirteen, and his innocent round eyes begged for Cesar to get up. “Come on!” his tiny voice demanded. “I can help you!”

“Peter!” the boy’s mother wailed as she barreled down the steps in a nightgown and slippers. “Get back inside right this instant!”

Cesar watched the mom wrap her hand around her son’s pale wrist, and she forcibly guided him back inside. She stopped at the bottom of the porch steps and looked back at Cesar. Her son’s hospitality and bravery had rubbed off on her, and Cesar was thankful that she came back for him. She didn’t ask any questions and helped him up. With his arm over her shoulder, he was able to make it out of the rain and into their living room. The tiny space was lit by a single rustic lamp, and it reeked of cigarettes.

“Here,” Peter threw a few comic books off the couch and fluffed the square pillow for Cesar.

He weakly nodded thanks and crashed on the couch. Peter’s mother shut the porch door. “Peter, don’t you do that to me again.” Her voice was soft, but firm in its request. She left the living room hastily.

The boy nodded. He watched the half-conscious Cesar for a moment, and then sat down cross-legged at the foot of the couch. “You’re Cesar,” the boy said to confirm that this wasn’t a dream he was having.

“That’s right.” Cesar followed the valleys and canyons in the ceiling texture with his eyes. He smelled Peter’s syrupy breath and leveled his gaze to meet that of the star-struck boy. “Thank you for helping me out.”

“Yeah.” Peter distanced himself from Cesar and rummaged through his comic book collection.

A lighter flicked open. Peter’s mom returned with a cigarette between her teeth and a towel under her arm. After gently placing the white towel under Cesar’s bleeding head, she sat on the couch arm at his feet. “What happened out there?”

“Someone tried to kill me,” he answered grimly. “They came to my house, armed and ready. I only made it out by sheer luck.”

“Do you want me to call the cops?”

“They’re already on their way, I’m sure.”

The mom blew cigarette smoke behind her and looked at one of Peter’s comic books at her feet. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You’ve already done more than enough.”

She wavered on the arm. Her sharp brown eyes looked to the man lying on her couch. “Are you afraid?”

Cesar noticed Peter’s attention rise from his mountain of comic books. The pain in Cesar’s head wanted to answer for him, and force him to cry out and confess his fear to Peter and his mother. Yet he knew what the answer had to be. With a weak smile, Cesar answered, “I’m not afraid.”

Peter squinted at the window. Something outside caught his attention. He set the comic book he was holding down and walked to the glass pane. His face reflected on its chilled surface, but beyond it, Peter saw black smoke. It billowed from a house only a street over. His mother saw it too. The cigarette fell from her hand and she got off of her perch. “Peter, get away from the window and go downstairs. Now,” she ordered.

Unsure what was happening, Cesar sat up and turned as fast as his wounds would allow. The gray sky outside was darkened with the curling black clouds of a burning house. “Peter, listen to your mom,” Cesar told the boy, who was lingering at the window with morbid curiosity.

“Is that them?” Peter asked.

Cesar didn’t answer. The boy abandoned his spot at the window, snatched a couple comic books from his collection, and dashed off towards the basement steps. At the same time, his mother returned with a small handgun. Cesar looked in surprise, but she dismissed his gaze by saying, “Being a single mother isn’t the safest thing in the world.”

A nod and he was off to the kitchen in search of the biggest knife she had. He’d make his stand here and end this before anyone else was endangered. However, not long into his search, Peter’s mother asked what he was doing. “Getting a weapon. We’re going to fight them here and—“

Suddenly, the front door flew open. Cesar knew what was about to happen. It had happened in several houses already, and Peter’s was the next one in line. A shot rang out from the mother’s gun, but the sound was drowned out by multiple louder shots. A body hit the floor. Cesar withdrew a knife from a rack and bolted into the hallway, but his shoestring got caught under his foot. He collapsed in the doorway. His stomach dropped even farther when he heard a cry of excitement behind him. Rolling over, Cesar discovered two black-clad individuals standing on the other end of the kitchen. One of them was the goggle-wearing woman from before, but the man in front of her, a looming, muscular giant, was new to Cesar. The smoking red barrel of the revolver in his hand, however, made it quite apparent that this was the individual who almost gotten the best of Cesar before. Behind his black bandana and sunglasses, Cesar saw a merciless soul who reveled only in total destruction.

“You’re weaker than what either Keith or I was expecting,” the woman remarked. Her voice was deep, and it didn’t betray her muscular physique. “And I’d say you’re quite the coward too.”

Cesar grit his teeth. She was right about him. Just then, his eyes caught a pair of thin legs behind the woman. Peter. A metal bat was held in his hands. Nothing Cesar could’ve done would change what happened next. The boy lifted the bat up. Cesar’s legs contracted, feet planting on the linoleum floor. The man cocked his revolver and aimed at Cesar.

And then the bat connected with the side of the woman’s head.

Her goggles were knocked off-center and she stumbled towards the kitchen sink, barely maintaining consciousness. Keith spun around and fired off a quick, neutralizing shot into Peter’s shoulder. The bat fell from his hands and onto the reddened carpet. A second bullet was all it took to end Peter’s short life. When Keith turned back to Cesar, he found the doorway empty.

“That fucker!” the woman screeched as she felt the side of her head. There was blood trickling down her cheek, but it wasn’t severe. When she saw Cesar was gone, she reiterated her exclamation with even more ferocity. “Fuck!”

Keith hurried into the narrow hallway. Each door was open, meaning Cesar could very well be hiding in any one of the rooms. He pointed at his sidekick and growled.

She nodded and withdrew a green and yellow dual-barreled pistol from its holster, still cursing under her breath about Peter.

The sound of nearing fire trucks was all that could be heard. Each step Keith took was masked by the high-pitched wailing of the siren. The doors in the hallway were checked one by one with a push from his magnum and a quick gaze. Cesar wasn’t in Peter’s bedroom. He wasn’t in the bathroom either. Keith’s eyes narrowed as his gun aimed towards the basement door. There. The magnum hammer was pulled back with a gloved finger. Keith took a step towards the open door.

Suddenly, the door slammed against him. His gun blew a sizeable hole in the door. Cesar, however, had already moved from behind his cover and propelled himself off the wall with his legs. He collided with Keith and sent the man tumbling down the stairs. From the kitchen, the woman emerged. She only saw Cesar disappear into the living room. Spinning around, she aimed over the counter and into the room he would dash into. However, Cesar didn’t appear. The woman was quick to realize the ruse, but not fast enough. A foot pressed into her back and she was pushed to the floor. Her gun slid across the floor and onto the carpet. Cesar took one long stride by the woman’s side and lunged for the gun.

“Oh no you don’t!” she cried, taking Cesar’s ankle in both hands and yanking him back so they were face-to-face.

Cesar took several rattling blows to the face. One hand wrapped around his neck and the other was balled into a surprisingly meaty fist. He screamed out after one blow cracked his jaw. He got his hand on her head. Taking the woman’s short hair in hand, he lifted her head up and slammed the bleeding side into the floor. She released him after a shrill yelp and writhed on the floor in pain. Her gun was taken up by Cesar and he pointed it at her. The shadows swayed in the hallway. The basement door creaked. Eyes trained on the woman still, he aimed the gun at the hall. The bandit in front of him regained her composure, enough for her to stare back at Cesar.

Keith took but a single step into the hallway, and the dual barrel pistol Cesar was holding deafened its holder, while blowing a sizeable hole in the walkway. The recoil alone was enough to send Cesar stumbling backwards. As he did so, the woman leapt to her feet and kicked her adversary into a box television. The gun fell out of his hand and landed under the television, grip protruding. The woman reached for it, but Cesar’s teeth sank into her hand. He drew blood and a wild scream. With a push from his legs and a quick turn, Cesar retrieved the gun. Keith appeared in the doorway, gun drawn. He rolled to the side when he saw the twin barrel pistol pointing at him, and just in time too, as another round decimated the wall behind where Keith had previously been standing. Cesar got onto his hands and knees and moved behind the counter, so Keith could not see him from the kitchen door. Meanwhile, the female bandit lifted the lone lamp in the room above her head, ready to swing at Cesar. He rolled out of the way as the metal base ringed against the floor.

A grunt came from the hallway. The woman looked up and shouted, “Center of the counter, Keith! Center!”

Cesar forced himself to the ground. He saw the splintered hole in the counter, and it was right where his head had been not more than a second ago. The woman cursed. She started to lift the lamp up, but Cesar locked his legs around it and put the gun up to the hole in the counter, and shot. No satisfying thud, but some shuffling could be heard. With Keith momentarily away, Cesar aimed at the woman, who gazed dumbfounded at the man.

Click.

No more bullets. The woman laughed, but was quickly silenced by the butt end of the thrown pistol connecting with her jaw. He scrambled backwards, avoiding lingering in full view of the hall for long. He took the pistol from Peter’s mom’s dead body and stood up, huffing and puffing. The woman glared at him and said nothing. No noise came from the hallway.

Cesar took a breath and aimed at the woman. “Who are you, and what do you want with me?”

She frowned and laid on the ground, her head resting close to the pool of blood around Peter.

Frustrated, Cesar took a step closer. “Answer the question.”

“I don’t want to,” she answered coolly, a small grin forming on her bloodied face.

A car engine could be outside. It grumbled like a mechanical behemoth. And it wasn’t moving either.

“I do hope we get another opportunity like this, Cesar,” the woman murmured. “But I’m afraid our time is up.”

That tipped him off. Cesar dropped to the floor and covered his head with his hands. A shower of bullets tore through the walls and out the back door and window. Cesar clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. The stream of metal didn’t stop, and kept him pinned on the six square feet of shag carpet in Peter’s now decrepit house. And just when Cesar thought he had gone deaf from the mighty onslaught, it ceased. Under the lingering screech, he heard the beastly rumbling die away. His quick, breath steadied, and his eyes opened. Peter’s mom still lay by Cesar, her brown eyes watching him inspect her home. The bandit who had been laying on the floor was gone. She must’ve left in the hellfire, Cesar concluded. Her gun was gone too.

A pair of footsteps could be heard behind Cesar. Some muffled chatter, a relieved sigh. There was a faint smell of donuts and Cuban cigars in the air. Cesar turned over to find Commissioner Hayes and Airako standing over him. Both appeared happy to see Cesar, but had concern written all over their faces.

“We need to talk, Cesar.”

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F is for friends who do stuff together...

Post by Kubo »

One Last Goodbye

Airako and Hayes sat in the front seats of Hayes’s cruiser while Cesar stretched out in the back seat. His eyes still saw red as the cruiser pulled away from the scene. Hayes’s words came through a megaphone on the other side of a canyon. “Up until two days ago, there had never been a Bandit Keith or a Navigator. They announced themselves to Sal and I with a little envelope shoved under our door. They gave names and what they intended to do. Considering crime has come to a standstill in TK Ville, Sal and I assumed Airako was pranking us. He’s done that before, after all.”

A sharp glance from Airako. “That was Tyler, I told you last time you brought this up.”

“Anyway, we realized this was legitimate only when it was too late to prepare. They ran down a patrol car near the Forbidden Zone earlier today. Chased the two officers down in their souped-up car, and forced them off the side of the road. I don’t know what happened, but what I heard on the radio wasn’t pretty.” Hayes ripped open a cigar accidently and tobacco spilled all over his lap. “Son of a bitch.”

“Why they retreated is what has me and Hayes curious though,” Airako cut in as the burly officer swept up the cigar in a free hand. “It seemed like they could’ve finished you off, is what I’m trying to say.”

Cesar gave a look of disappointment to his friend. Airako did his best damage control. “They had a machine gun rigged on their car and other weaponry we’ve never seen before. It’s a damn miracle we still have you around, you know?”

Hayes struggled to take a turn at the intersection, with one of his hands still cupping the cigar remnants. He curb-checked the street and the brown shavings fell down under the seat. His brown mustache curled in frustration. “Fucking…”

“So now what?” Cesar asked. His voice reverberated in his head. Grimacing, he tightened his lips and squinted as the sound died down to make way for Hayes.

“We get out the old Triple S vehicle, track them down, and kill them before they can come back and kill anyone else.”

The police radio fizzled. A voice came through, panicked. “They’re on the highway, westbound! Requesting back-up immediately!”

Hayes’s cigar-riddled fingers clutched the radio. “All available cruisers engage! Shoot to kill, I repeat, shoot to kill!”

Howling drowned out the latter half of what the commissioner said. Silence followed.

“Westbound?” Cesar perked up. “Macan’s less than an hour out…”

The radio screeched and a sharp voice began barking declarations. “Now, policemen and women of TK Ville. Since we came into your little city, we have murdered eleven people.” The Navigator end scoffed at the number. “That number has potential to rise, believe me. You don’t know the hell Keith and I can unleash on this city. But you can stop us—sorry, no, you can appease us. Bring Cesar to the city limits and we will spare everyone. Better yet, is Cesar listening?”

Airako looked back at Cesar, who motioned for the radio microphone. He pulled the coiled line taut. “I’m listening.”

“Lovely. Drive yourself out here on the interstate and we’ll put a bullet in your head real nice and easy and be on our way. How’s that sound?”

Cesar pressed the rectangular microphone to his chest and took in a deep breath. Hayes and Airako eyed him with concern. No one wanted to say anything, but the answer was evident. Cesar asked, “How can I be certain that you will leave TK Ville once you have me?”

Surprisingly, the Navigator took a moment to think it over. “You have my word,” was the delayed but sincere answer.

“It could be a ruse, Cesar,” Airako said.

“I know, but what choice do we have?”

“You’re the main character. You always have been. Without you, Tom would’ve won. Grady would’ve won. Face it. You’re the key to stopping these two, and if you sacrifice yourself now, they will win. I don’t believe that bitch for a second.” Airako turned around and clenched his jaw.

“Airako’s right. You can’t let them kill you,” Hayes added.

“My patience is wearing, Cesar!” the Navigator yelled over the radio.

“I’ll be there.”

“Cesar!” Airako shouted. He yanked the microphone from his friend and stared wide-eyed at him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Making the right choice,” he answered solemnly. His friends disapproved, as he expected. “It’s not about being the main character. It’s about protecting my friends, my family. If I refuse, I run the risk of losing all of it to my own selfishness. Today, I was responsible for several deaths. Innocent people were killed. I let a child die. I let it happen, and I’m not going to sit around and let them kill anyone else. No one should suffer because of my actions. If I want to truly protect this city, I must know when to fight, and I know if I fight here, if I make my stand here, I will surely lose more than my own life.”

“This is not a time to surrender!” Airako cried.

Cesar locked eyes with his friend. “I never said it was.”

Hayes and Airako tried to understand exactly what Cesar meant. And then the light bulb moment came. “We’re coming with you, if that’s what you’re planning,” Hayes said with a grin.

“This is something I must do alone, Hayes.”

“Wha—why?”

“No one else will die because of me,” Cesar answered.

Hayes tightened his grip on the wheel and shoved a cigar forcibly between his yellowing teeth. “You’re a madman, Cesar.” He clipped the brown cylinder in two and plucked half away from his face. “Don’t think we’re not going to help you get ready though.”

Cesar smiled and shut his eyes. A long, long journey awaited him.

* * *

The Superhero Super Loft, as Airako had dubbed it, was the home to all the former superheroes. Situated near the heart of TK Ville, the apartment overlooked downtown. None of the occupants made enough money to support the financial maintenance of such a place alone, but Hayes’s high-ranking position covered half of the monthly rent (which he maintains his bitterness over). Cesar had not visited the loft since they had moved in, and was floored by the size. The living room was larger than Cesar’s entire house, and the outer walls were entirely glass. Two hallways to the right of the front door led to the bedrooms and bathrooms. Hayes had his own of each, by request (or demand, depending on who you ask). The room had the finest trimmings around, and ultra-modern furniture. Several sleek red couches boxed in a glass coffee table, and a flat screen television was centered on the inner wall of the room. On one of the couches was a laying Tyler. Without his traditional samurai armor, he looked like an average joe, not too unlike Airako. His nose was flatter than Airako’s though, and his chin a bit more rounded. When he saw Cesar, he casually waved and kept staring at the ceiling.

“Figured he’d be a bit more surprised to see you,” Airako remarked as he slipped past Cesar and walked into one of the hallways.

“I am, but this ceiling’s so fascinating.”

Hayes shut the door behind him. “A cross-dimensional being that has slayed all sorts of crazy shit is transfixed by a boring ol’ ceiling. How does that work?”

“You just need to change your perspective, my friend,” Tyler explained.

Airako entered the room with Sal, who looked more than relieved to see his friend alive. “You took care of those two psychopaths?”

“Not yet,” Cesar answered. He followed Hayes into a bedroom littered with police files and ash trays, each having multiple crushed cigars in them.

Sal stood in the doorway. When he saw a pistol handed off to Cesar, he tilted his head in confusion. “They’re still out there?”

Cesar nodded. “By the city limits.”

“Well let’s take the battle to them. We have them outnumbered, we can take them no problem!” Sal started away, but Airako was standing square in the hallway.

“Cesar told us we’re not fighting.”

“Not fighting?” Sal turned around to look at his friend. Cesar was staring off to the side, avoiding eye contact. “I have talismans still, and Hayes has the police force…dammit, it’s our job to protect the city!”

“You don’t understand,” insisted Cesar. “Bandit Keith and the Navigator. I fought against them and barely made it out with my life. I don’t doubt their word when they say they could destroy this city.”

Sal was dumbfounded. “What is your plan then? Go at them with a measly pistol by yourself?”

Hayes yanked his head out of a cavern of police files. “It’s more than a measly pistol, I’ll have you know.”

“Sal, they want me. Everyone that stands between us is going to die. I can’t allow that to happen.”

“So it’s a suicide mission then, is that it?”

Eyes shut, Cesar shook his head. Sal remained tight-jawed in the doorway. Hayes fished out a bulletproof vest from a mountain of papers and set it on his desk. He saw the helpless look in Sal’s eyes and sighed. “Let’s not be too pessimistic now.”

“It’s not unreasonable to understand the situation and its implications,” Cesar quietly returned.

Hayes folded his arms. “Yeah, well…”

“Thank you all, for everything. I couldn’t have asked for better friends. Look what we’ve been through. We went to hell and back. We’ve saved the world. And now, it’s time to save it one more time.” Cesar clipped on a gun holster to his belt and shoved the pistol Hayes gave him in. “If—no, when I come back, I expect a shitload of Dr. Pepper and bro bonding time.”

“I’ll keep my schedule open,” Hayes said with a soft smile.

“I don’t have a job, so that shouldn’t be an issue,” Airako piped.

“I have a small-time gig with the theater, and Tyler’s unemployed, so consider the date set,” Sal declared.

“Bunch of freeloaders…” Hayes muttered jokingly.

Cesar grinned and took in a deep breath. The odds were stacked against him. He didn’t have superpowers, and he wasn’t a sharpshooter by any means. Keith and the Navigator weren’t going to be easy to take down. The fight before made that perfectly clear to him. And yet, Cesar had a newfound confidence. He knew what he was fighting for. It was something that had been missing since the end of the war. He was fighting for his friends.

All the preparations were made. Cesar found himself at the front door, staring back at all his friends. Airako, his oldest friend, and perhaps his best. It had been almost five years since they had met at the movie theater. And Hayes. Cesar almost broke into laughter just thinking about his time with Hayes. The time at the Overlook Hotel, and the drive there and back. His love for Marlon Brando. It was all so distinctly Hayes. Then, there was Sal. He brought such wisdom in his presence that Cesar felt thrice as smart since the first time they had crossed paths. But the wonderful thing about Sal was that he was approachable. Never once did his knowledge supersede his friendliness and compassion. Cesar wished he’d have gotten to know Tyler more before he set out, but it was the first thing he had on his to-do list when he returned. Things were going to be different after this was all over.

Cesar’s hand gripped the doorknob. He stepped out, and told his friends with a smile, “I’ll be back.”
Last edited by Kubo on Fri Jul 17, 2015 3:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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I wonder if anyone actually reads these...

Post by Kubo »

The Pilgrimage

Four wheels skidded across the rain-soaked pavement of the city street. The black circles were concealed behind shells of egg-white armor, which was welded to the black-lined body of the vehicle. It too was armored in the same hue. The front of the vehicle was rectangular, and its headlights were caged inside the frame like two sulking eyes. The hood gave way to a bulletproof windshield, black as the night. The vehicle was called Pegasus, and it was the fastest vehicle in TK Ville. The grandiose machine was designed by Doc before his untimely death, and it was part of his (and the Triple S’s) future project of exploration of the Forbidden Zone. Cesar stared out at into the street from the driver’s seat. His body was quivering in morbid anticipation. The hand clutching the top of the steering wheel was white as the hood in front of him.

It took no time to reach the city limits. Traffic was absent entirely from the otherwise bustling downtown. There wasn’t even a person outside. Just Cesar and his car. When he reached the top of the on-ramp, Cesar discovered the black death machine that Keith drove. The Eliminator. It was facing him, machine guns at the ready. The Navigator, who was standing outside watched, mouth agape, as the souped-up car slowed to a halt a half-football field away. She muttered something to Keith through the open passenger window and grumbled. She then cupped her hands around her mouth, “This wasn’t what we agreed on.”

A white finger flicked open a switch on the dashboard. The brake softly released. The Navigator whipped out her dual-barreled pistol and took aim at the windshield. “Can’t say I’m surprised though,” she muttered.

Pegasus screeched, it’s nitro engine kicking in. The car barreled down the highway, right towards Keith and the Navigator. A bullet ricocheted off the windshield. The black vehicle was thrown into reverse and driven frantically into the emergency lane. Pegasus stormed past, nearly squashing a diving Navigator in the process. The two villains both watched the white and black vehicle speed away.

“He’s getting away, Keith, let’s go!” The Navigator cried as she swung open the passenger door. After flinging herself in in such a hurry, the car ripped around on the pavement and gave out a grumbling war cry.

Cesar glanced at the rearview mirror. Despite his early lead, Keith and the Navigator were closing in, and fast. The pedal pressed against the floor and the orange needle of the speedometer fidgeted at the 160 miles per hour mark. A single bump or sharp turn would spell certain death at speeds like that. The slick road conditions didn’t make things any easier. The windshield wipers desperately flung water away, but Cesar could not make out lines or objects. Just shapes and gradients.

Incredibly, the Eliminator’s golden headlights grew larger in Cesar’s rearview mirror. He couldn’t go any faster. Outmaneuvering Keith was his only option. Then, a series of pings and flashes shocked Cesar. The machine guns on the Eliminator were unleashing a hellfire of bullets on Pegasus. The dividing wall on the highway pulled inwards on a turn. Cesar, being distracted by the bullets, didn’t notice until the left side of the car chafed against the wall. The needle shot upwards on the speedometer.

BOOM!

The Eliminator’s front end collided with the back right side of Cesar’s car, knocking out one of its taillights in the process. Pegasus lurched forward and continued at a slowed pace. The machine guns continued their barrage of bullets. They cracked the windows, but failed to make any major mark. Keith slammed on the brakes and then the gas pedal, intent on spinning Cesar out on the next hit. Meanwhile, the Pegasus listed to the right, into the exit lane. Keith tailed, some hundred feet back and closing quick. The machine guns momentarily paused as the Eliminator bumped the white car again. Cesar saw the yellow barrels at the front of the exit barrier and took as sharp a left turn as he knew the Pegasus could. A barrel was clipped by the front side, but nothing more. The Eliminator was not so lucky. It sped into the sharp banking turn, broke through the metal barrier, and careened into a grassy pond. The black vehicle sank in up to the tops of its tires.

Cesar saw the golden headlights turn off and gave a satisfied huff.

“Best driver in the Barrens my ass!” the Navigator cried as she rolled down the passenger window and climbed out. The cool rain greeted her frowning face. “By the time we get the car out of this pond, he’ll be long gone.”

Keith worked himself out of his window and gave a warning glance to his accomplice. Stepping into the muddy water, he inspected the vehicle from afar and trudged towards the front end.

The Navigator joined him. “You let this happen,” she quietly asserted.

Suddenly, a black gloved hand wrapped around the back of her head and jammed it against the hood of the Eliminator. With his free hand, Bandit Keith pulled off his bandana. “Cesar will die. You lack the patience and foresight to see this.”

The Navigator swiped Keith’s magnum from its holster and stood up. “And you lack awareness,” she retorted with a sly smirk.

“Like you’d shoot me,” he stated coolly as the barrel of his magnum hovered dangerously close to mouth.

“Fuck around anymore, and I might,” was the sharp, confident response.

Keith worked his magnum out of the Navigator’s gloved hand and returned it to its holster. “There is no place on earth where he can hide from me.”

Once the goggles on the Navigator’s head were aligned, she asked, “And if the Barrens swallow him up? If he stumbles across Goldilocks?” The name caused Keith to lock up. The Navigator grinned. “Look at you, scared of that skank.”

“She’s not the one I was thinking of.”

“Whatever the case, if they get ahold of Cesar and kill him—“

“They won’t,” Keith belted out as his hands reached under the car. The Navigator snickered and took the other side and the two slowly towed the car out of the hole.

With a wipe of her hands, the Navigator spoke, “We better get a move on then, Speed Racer.”

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