Crossing Bedlam (23 page)

Cassidy is distracted by the nearby sound of Lloyd whooping followed by cursing about a stun gun striking him. The flimsy bar stool breaks against her back and she is sent sprawling on the ground. Rolling forward to put some distance between herself and Dick, the blonde grimaces at the pain rippling up her spine and struggles to stand. She gets her arms up to cushion a full-bodied tackle and grabs the bounty hunter by his soiled shirt. Pinned beneath the large man, Cassidy braces her knees against his stomach and pushes his upper body away to avoid the smell of his breath. Whether intentional or not, Dick’s hand roughly brushes her chest to shove her arm to the dirt. Disgusted by the brief contact, the blonde wraps her legs around the bounty hunter’s waist and hooks her free arm around his neck. Being a lot smaller than her opponent and on the bottom, Cassidy is difficult to hit with any real force while she tries to clumsily choke her ex-boyfriend.

More scared about losing in front of the crowd than falling unconscious, Dick stands and hurls the young woman away. She crashes into a tent that is filled with pottery and owned by a nervous old man, the vendor rapidly screaming that the fighters have to pay for whatever they break. Tossing him a pocket knife, Cassidy picks up a large spittoon and swings it as Dick gets within reach. The blunt object shatters against his face, but he only grins and takes another step toward the woman.

“Last chance to back down,” she states, receiving a punch that she leans with to soften the blow. She rams her fist into Dick’s ribs, one of which cracks and stuns him long enough for her to knock him down with another knee to the stomach. “All of that was for me. Now to make you pay for what you said about my mom.”

“Take the win and settle down,” Bart whispers, his tapping shotgun against the back of Cassidy’s head. He shows her the figurine and jerks his thumb at Lloyd, the serial killer sitting next to a dented drone. “Your friend did the real work, but I guess you had some personal business to handle. I won’t have another open spot for a month, Mr. Kopf, so I’ll send you to someone who can do a patch job. That should keep you in business for a bit. Though no long distance flying even if this guy tells you otherwise.”

“Stay out of-” Dick begins before Cassidy stomps her heel into his groin. The man’s eyes roll back in his head and he remains limp in the mud.

“I’ll bring the jeep around and we can start right away,” she mutters, her voice devoid of any emotion. She rubs her sore jaw and fears that a few teeth are loose, the idea of visiting a dentist making her even more annoyed with the bounty hunter. “We have weather maps that extend for the next seven days, so I’d like to get on the road by then. There’s a list of ideas in my pea coat, which we can go over.”

Lloyd hurries to fall in step with his friend, the killer unaffected by her angry glare. “You know, I have some ideas too. Mostly chainsaws and other blades that we can put on the jeep for me to use in an emergency.”

“You’re using a gun.”

“But I don’t like to kill with those.”

“Apologizing in advance, Lloyd, but know that I’m saying this as a friend,” Cassidy says, facing the slender man. Grabbing him by the collar, she pulls him down to stare directly into his eyes. “This is Nebraska. You don’t play with your prey out there because every fucking bastard we meet will be a predator. They will tear out your innards to hear you scream and smash your head in for fun. That’s if you’re lucky and very few people are that fortunate. I’ve humored you for a while and I’ll do so again when we reach Wyoming, but now is not the time to be a finicky killer. Use the fucking guns and shoot to fucking kill or we won’t see the other side. To put it simply, get yourself ready and drop what few scruples you have because we’re going right into hell.”

“Eh, I was heading down there anyway.”

Scenic Nebraska

Cassidy watches as the motorcyclist flips over his bike, both of them crashing into a spike-covered sports car. With the body stuck to the windshield, the speeding vehicle spins and slams into a heavily armored tractor trailer. The car is destroyed beneath the chain-wrapped tires, but does enough damage to slow down the moving fortress. Distracted by the wreckage stuck to their undercarriage, those in the semi-truck never notice the swarm of rockets that have been fired by a rival gang. Hoots and cheers erupt from the multiple armies as the tractor trailer explodes, sending burning metal and bodies into the air. Not even the attackers who are in the same gang as the casualties bother to stop, all of them obsessed with catching the prey that agents in the Iowa border town told them about. It does not matter that the undamaged jeep and its two occupants have taken out twelve vehicles in the last thirty minutes. With supplies hard to come by in Nebraska, every risk is worth taking for even a small victory.

For their part, the two travelers are remaining calm and are even enjoying the parts of the battle that involve explosions. The rapid pinging of bullets off the jeep’s newly reinforced body and windows is nothing more than background noise that they easily ignore. The shots are only annoying when Cassidy is standing in the back with her head through the roof and protected by a bulletproof dome. With several slits around the clear shield, she can fire in any direction, including the front now that the central floodlight has been removed and the others are pushed to hang off the side. Small machineguns can be unfolded from the roof, but their power is not enough to pierce the enemy’s armor. Not that Cassidy planned on leaving a trail of decimation in her wake because she has always preferred speed over strength. Precise shots to exposed gang members, unprotected tires, and whatever openings she can spot have helped keep the wild mobs at bay. When one of the bigger vehicles begins giving her trouble, the young woman unfolds the mini-gun that Bart insisted be installed for emergencies. Seeing a door swinging open in a nearby van that looks like it is covered in hubcaps, Cassidy grabs a grenade from her belt. She pulls the pin and drops it down a pneumatic pipe in front of her, which launches the explosive into the face of the surprised gang member. The inside of the vehicle explodes, causing the back half to launch into a pair of naked motorcyclists and the rest of the van to pitifully flip onto its smoking roof.

While his friend wracks up a body count that makes him jealous, Lloyd focuses more on keeping them in one piece. An array of sensors have been added to the dashboard, telling him when rockets are approaching or if there are mines ahead. Not having to worry about the rules of the road, he is proving to be a highly skilled offensive driver. It helps that he has locked the gas pedal down, a slight twist of his foot freeing it if he needs to slow down. Swerving to avoid a mine, he narrowly misses the explosive and releases a few balloon decoys to handle a rocket that is heading for them. Seeing a car coming around the driver’s side to get in front of them, Lloyd flips open a hatch in the door. It is too small for his enemy to notice, but it is it the perfect size for him to fire a thin harpoon through. The projectile shatters the passenger’s side window and kills the gunman before impaling the driver’s hands to the steering wheel. Hearing a telltale beep, the grinning killer frees the gas pedal to slow down and sideswipes the other car. Hitting the back end of the storm-patterned vehicle, Lloyd sends it spinning onto a mine. The explosive sends the burning wreckage tumbling along the open landscape until it comes to a creaking stop in a ditch.

“I told you this was hell!” Cassidy shouts, dropping to the floor and grabbing a shotgun. She uses another slot to fire at the tires of an approaching car, her shot hitting the barbed wire covered hood instead. “I count at least eight separate gangs on our ass. At least they’re fighting amongst themselves too.”

“Yeah, but they’re starting to realize we’re the biggest threat out here,” Lloyd mentions, tossing a canteen back to his friend. The glint of something metal in the distance catches his attention and it takes him a few seconds to identify the object. “Shit. Looks like one of them has a train. Do you think we can handle that?”

“The train isn’t a threat. All of the real Nebraskans live on those,” the young woman replies, standing again and cracking her neck. Unfolding two of the small machineguns, she unloads on two packs of bikers whose falling bodies are crushed by several of the bigger vehicles. “The trains run off some kind of bio-fuel, which probably comes from hydroponic farms. Never really met any of the locals because those things never stop unless they have a prearranged trade at a depot. When that happens, they take out anyone who comes within a mile of the area. Neddy claims to have done a deal here, but it isn’t something he likes talking about.”

“So the gangs aren’t locals?” Lloyd asks before making a sharp turn. He watches in his mirrors as their pursuers have a few accidents in an attempt to follow. “By the way, remind me to send Bart a hippo thing. The tire guards are a work of genius. Feel like I’m driving a really fast, badass tank. Hope we don’t run into any mutated kangaroos out here. Mostly because I only know the movie version and don’t want to insult something that could bounce kick me through a brick wall.”

“These are people from other states who showed up to make the gangs.”

“Why would they do that?”

“The open landscape makes it easy to spot and chase down victims.”

“But I don’t get the leather, spikes, and garbage heap décor they seem obsessed with.”

Cassidy slides open a slit and fires her handgun into the face of a snarling gang member who has managed to get onto the jeep. She tries to figure out where he came from, noticing the remains of a motorcycle stuck to the rear bumper. It is held on by a chain that is fused to the bike’s seat and she guesses that the man she grappled them during her last salvo. Grabbing a pair of bolt cutters, she whistles for Lloyd to spin the car and drive backwards. She opens the door that is opposite the approaching packs and leans out to free themselves of the extra weight, a blinking red light on the motorcycle’s gas tank making her work quickly. A few seconds after the remains of the bike are cut loose, the vehicle explodes with a force that would have ruptured the rear tires and taken off a chunk of the jeep’s back end.

“These people believe that this is how the Shattered States should be,” Cassidy explains when she gets back inside. She takes a quick bite of jerky while they spin back into their original position. “It’s all about this popular movie series. You find a lot of people in this country who imitate fiction in an attempt to make sense of reality. Though I’m guessing these people always wanted to be extremely violent and found this be a great excuse. That’s what attracts new members from outside the borders. Besides, it isn’t like there’s a law enforcement group out here anyway. Now that I think about it, these people have managed to have a looser grasp of reality than you.”

“Awww, that’s so sweet,” Lloyd replies as more bullets batter the sides of the jeep. A pair of startling roars bring his attention to where two tractor trailers are trying to cut them off. “Guess now I know why they keep yelling in terrible Australian accents. Also why many of the smaller vehicles seem more inclined to ram into us than shoot from far away. It’s like bumper car death match out here. Looks like we have people coming in from all sides and we’re losing speed. I have a blinking light on the dashboard too. Think one of the bullets got through the armor and into the engine.”

“That’s why Bart gave me a manual and tools,” Cassidy says, crawling into the front to skim through a handwritten book. Having spent a few nights studying the notes, she quickly finds the information while the jeep barrels through a hole in the closing circle of enemies. “Shit! I don’t think I can fix this on the move. Even if we escape and find an abandoned town to hide in, we’d be found before I finished. Got an hour before nightfall, but that still won’t be enough to help us do repairs and escape. Dammit! I can’t think with all this noise!”

“Want me to politely ask them to be quiet?”

“You just want to use that megaphone again.”

“I’m a lover of conversation.”

“Focus on driving while I clear my head.”

Cassidy pulls out the mini-gun and opens the bigger hole in the dome, which she loosens by removing a few clips. Practically spinning, she unleashes a barrage of large bullets into the surrounding vehicles. Barely clothed bikers are sent tumbling to the ground where they are either run over by cars or lay still from a collection of shattered bones. Several sports cars veer to the side, usually hitting another vehicle and causing a crash. Only the vans and armored trailers continue without batting an eye, but all of them receive damage from the onslaught. Focusing on an enemy preparing a rocket launcher, Cassidy’s bullets splinter the windshield and tear apart the shrieking driver. One of the explosive payloads goes off as the sedan flips, the weaving projectile punching a hole in a rival gang’s moving fortress. The opening allows the young woman to fire directly into the dangerous machine, which eventually jackknifes and takes out several cars that were unfortunate enough to be driving too close.

With a sigh of satisfaction, Cassidy puts away the mini-gun and secures the bulletproof dome before returning to the smaller machineguns. When one of her shots punctures the tire of a car with chains hanging off the sides, the young woman sees a scrawny man in jeans crawl out the back window. As the vehicle swerves on three wheels, the mechanic repeatedly tries to get a patch on the damaged part. Someone still inside is aiming a gun at the man, which explains why he is attempting such a dangerous repair. After losing a finger and getting dragged for a few seconds, he finally succeeds in getting a patch in the right place. Being handed something that looks like an air pump, the mechanic jams the sharp end into the side and refills the tire. With a twist of the detachable nozzle, he seals the new hole and clambers back inside. Moments later, the patch comes loose and the car skids away from the jeep. The burst of a gunshot can be heard before the mechanic’s body is tossed out and the vehicle crashes into the remains of a highway divider.

“I have an idea to get the repairs done quickly,” Cassidy says while taking a seat. She frowns at the reduced speed and looks back at a pack of canisters that will give them a one-time boost. “I’ll need your harpoon gun and some strong wire. Think I saw a reel attachment for the thing around here. Just keep us steady while I steal a mechanic.”

“It’s all yours, but I can’t make promises on staying straight,” Lloyd replies, pointing at one of the displays. A large patch of glowing dots show that they are coming to a large minefield and their pursuers are determined to force them into it. “Not to mention we have whatever that big line with a single gap turns out to be. Think I see tracks going through there, so I’m guessing a wall with some kind of train tunnel or something. Probably have to go around, which will cost us time.”

“Perfect,” the blonde mutters while getting her weapons ready. She pulls a sniper rifle out from behind the backseat and puts it through the door. “This shot doesn’t need to be perfect. Just need to draw out a mechanic. After that, I need you to keep going straight. Let me know if a train is heading in the same direction as us.”

Not bothering to carefully aim, Cassidy fires several bullets through the grill of a nearby tractor trailer. The blade-covered vehicle is no more than a quarter of a football field away, which gives her a clear view of those inside the cab. Smoke billows out from under the hood, obscuring the driver’s view enough that he bangs into several smaller cars before he gets the fortress back under control. A hatch opens on the top of the cab and a young man with a rainbow-colored Mohawk crawls out with a belt of tools in his hand. He releases the hood and lets the sheet of metal fall away, the sharp edge decapitating a biker.

Cassidy waits until the mechanic is more to her side of the larger vehicle before taking aim with the harpoon gun. Bullets ping off the jeep and one nearly makes it through the hole in the door before she fires. The barbed point pierces the man’s leg and threatens to pin him to the engine, but he twists at the last second to prevent it from getting stuck. As if she is fishing, Cassidy reels the thrashing gang member in while Lloyd maneuvers to prevent their prisoner from getting run over by the speeding cars and bikes. The mechanic struggles to free himself, but his grip on the harpoon unwittingly keeps it in place. Bullets are battering the dusty earth around him, one eventually striking the terrified man’s shoulder. A cackling voice suddenly announces that dinner is about to be served, the taunt ending when Cassidy kicks the megaphone away from Lloyd.

When the mechanic is within reach, the jeep is spun to move him away from most of the enemy vehicles. Detaching the cable, Cassidy throws the door open to grab the man by the arm and yanks him inside. Not wanting him to cause trouble, she uses a stun gun on the gang member and cuts the wire from the harpoon. Searching for a first aid kit, the blonde does her best to patch up the leg wound without removing the projectile and simply slaps a large bandage on the bullet hole in his shoulder. A loud clunk from the engine makes her heart leap into her throat, so she handcuffs their new friend to a bar in the floor. She grins at the blaring of a horn and she hurries to check on the canisters. Briefly glancing out the window, Cassidy can see a silver train barreling toward the barrier and threatening to block their progress.

“We’re going to lose these bastards and find a place to hide until morning,” she announces before heading for the dome. To keep the gangs away, she fires at windows with small bursts from the machineguns. “This is all up to you, Lloyd. I want you to skirt one of the mines at the edge of the field. You probably won’t set it off, but I’m going to pretend that one of the guns have jammed. That should draw one of them into the minefield to set off a chain reaction. When the explosions start, I want you to aim for the gap in the barrier.”