Highway To Armageddon (28 page)

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Authors: Harold Bloemer

BOOK: Highway To Armageddon
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I shrug. “It’s no big deal. Just a little something Dagger and I put together.”

           
I’m being modest, of course. I’m actually pleased Arrow is so impressed with
our treasure trove of intelligence. I’ve been busting my ass keeping it
updated. It’s refreshing to hear someone appreciate my hard work. Sometimes I
feel as if Lance and Krystal take me for granted.

           
After Arrow spends several minutes perusing some of our files, he turns back to
me and asks, “Just out of curiosity, why is Genesis-Lazarus your password? I
didn’t think you guys were religious.”

           
“We’re not. It’s…” I trail off and bite my tongue again. I really shouldn’t
tell him. “I’m sorry, Arrow, but I can’t tell you what it means.”

           
Arrow’s smirk returns. “And why not?”

           
“I just can’t,” I snap.

           
Arrow shrugs and grumbles, “Okay.”

           
I can tell he’s hurt that I snapped at him. But I’ve already given him way more
information than I should have. The only people who know the meaning behind
Genesis-Lazarus are Lance and me. Dagger knew, too, of course, but he took our
secret to his grave. Krystal knows what the password is, but she never bothered
asking why we chose it. (Krystal isn’t the most curious person in the world.) I
know it sounds dumb, but I like the fact that the meaning behind
Genesis-Lazarus
is our little secret… something only Lance and I share. I’ve already betrayed
Lance’s trust by granting Arrow access to our files. I won’t betray it again by
sharing something so personal.

           
Arrow soon forgets about me snapping at him when I direct him to Rasputin’s
profile. He’s astonished when he sees all the intel we have on him. He becomes
even more amazed when I share our plan to infiltrate Rasputin’s inner circle by
meeting with Igor Bolshevik, a Purple Dragon sympathizer rumored to be a close
confident of the world’s most wanted man. If we can convince him to accept us
as new members of his Alaskan gang, there’s a good chance we’ll be able to find
Rasputin’s hiding place.

           
“That’s genius!” Arrow exclaims. “The Purple Dragons and all their affiliates
love taking on new, young members. Machete and I have done enough research to
know that. We may have to kill one of their rivals to prove our loyalty, but
that’s a small price to pay to capture the world’s most wanted fugitive. Damn,
Red, you are so amazingly smart. You’re like the perfect girl.”

           
I’m glad it’s dark because I’m sure my blushing cheeks look sunburned.

           
Pretty soon our conversation turns from Mikhail to
us
. We take off our
goggles and proceed to have a normal conversation. A regular, normal
conversation you’d have with a friend… or even a boyfriend. We talk about our
interests… what we like to do in our free time (what little of it we have),
what our favorite foods are, our favorite drinks, favorite sports. I find
myself rattling on and on like some love-struck girl who’s thrilled her crush
is actually talking to her. At first I’m hesitant to cut loose and gab, but
Arrow encourages me. He says he wants to know more about me. He wants to know
all my likes, interests, hobbies,
everything
.

           
I tell Arrow I like to paint and write poetry, and to my pleasant surprise he
says he’d love to see my work someday. Lance never wanted to see my artwork or
writing, even when we dated. Arrow confides in me that he likes to write as
well. He even started a novel about teen bounty hunters, and one of the
characters is based on me! I crack up and tell him that sounds awesome. He
laughs and says it’s actually pretty bad. Somehow I doubt that.

           
We soon move on to our dreams. I confide in Arrow that I would love to one day
become a teacher, more specifically a history or English teacher. Arrow tells
me I’d be a natural. He then says he’d like to become a community organizer, or
maybe even an attorney so he can represent the poor and downtrodden in a court
of law for little to no charge. I tell him he’d be fantastic, that the country
needs someone like him to take on our corrupt judicial system. Needless to say
the compliments flow freely between the two of us.

           
Arrow pretty much has me in the palm of his hands, but he makes me fall for him
even harder when he tells me his greatest dream is to marry an amazing woman
like myself, someone he can cherish and grow old with. He wants to raise a
giant family with her, having 6-10 kids that he can spoil rotten. And he hopes
that soon there’s a lasting world peace, so the he can raise that family free
from the specter of a nuclear holocaust. My heart flutters as he tells me all
this. It’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.

           
Talk eventually turns to our families. Arrow explains his dad died when he was
young, and so did his younger brother and sister. (His father died while on a
bounty hunting mission with Machete, and his siblings died from one of the
deadly influenza pandemics that seem to sweep across the globe every few
years.) Arrow explains this is why Machete is so over-protective of him, why
she’ll shoot someone without remorse if they so much as look at him funny. He’s
all she has, and Machete is all he has…

           
“Until now,” Arrow says, clutching my hands.

           
My heart flutters once more. It’s like there’s a butterfly in my chest.

           
“So what happened to your family?” Arrow inquires. “I don’t mean Dagger and
Lance and all them, I mean your biological family.”

           
A lump forms in my throat. I should have known this question was coming. Arrow
has been very open and honest with me about his past. Why shouldn’t he expect
the same from me? But I don’t like talking about my past. Even after all these
years the emotions I have about it are too raw… too fresh. I’ve survived by
keeping my feelings buried in the deepest, darkest depths of my soul… out of
sight and out of mind.

           
I look down at the ground and quietly say, “My parents died when I was very
young. I was 8 or 9, I think. I don’t recall exactly.”

           
Arrow rubs my shoulders. “I’m sorry, Red. I didn’t’ mean to make you upset. But
is that why Dagger took you in?”

           
“He didn’t take me in right away,” I say, struggling to fight back a flood of
tears. “The next few years are kind of a blur. I…”

           
I grow quiet. The years following my parents’ deaths are not a blur at all. I
remember precisely what I went through. But I can’t talk about it. It’s too
painful.

           
“Hey, it’s okay,” Arrow says, wiping away my tears. “You don’t have to talk
about it. I know you and Lance are pretty much alone now that Dagger’s gone. I
didn’t know him all that well personally, but he’s definitely a legend,
especially in Sanctuary 7. And from what I heard he was a great man and an
amazing father.”

           
“He was indeed,” I say, sniffling. “His kids, Blade and Harpoon, were
devastated when he died. They’re just now beginning to get back to their old
selves. For a while there we were all in a state of shock. Dagger always seemed
so invincible. He avoided death hundreds of times before. His passing reminded
me that any of us could go at any moment. Our time on this Earth is not a
guaranteed thing. That’s why we should cherish the time we spend with the ones
we love. Nothing lasts forever.”

           
“I’m definitely cherishing this moment,” Arrow says.

           
I smile and blink away my tears. Arrow is saying and doing all the right things
to woo a girl like me. Right now he could ask me to run away with him and I’d
seriously consider it.

           
“By the way, I think my mom had a crush on Dagger,” Arrow says sheepishly.

           
That causes me to burst out laughing. “Omigosh, really? Why do you think that?”

           
“Occasionally we’d talk about you guys, and she’d just sort of smile and stare
dreamily off into space when his name came up,” Arrow elaborates.

           
I continue laughing hysterically. When I finally calm down enough to talk, I
say, “Wow, could you imagine Machete and Dagger as a couple?”

           
“They’d have some freaky offspring, that’s for sure,” Arrow snorts.

           
Arrow gets all serious again. “My mom and I were actually wondering what
happened to Dagger. All we heard was that Caesar’s goons killed him. I know you
guys usually went on missions together. Did he go out by himself or something?”

           
The lump in my throat returns. This memory is just as raw and fresh as the ones
about my parents.

           
Arrow senses I’m upset. “Nevermind, it was wrong of me to bring it up.”

           
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “It’ll do me some good to share the story. I’ve
kept my feelings on this bottled up for far too long. I think that’s one of my
problems. I never take time to open up… to laugh… to cry.”

           
Arrow tightens his embrace. “Whenever you need to talk, Red, I’m here for you.”

           
“I know,” I whisper, resting my head against his chest.

           
I take a deep breath and say, “A little over six months ago, Lance, Krystal and
I fell deathly ill. We caught that crazy bird flu that swept across the planet
last spring, the one that killed over 100,000 people and sickened millions
more.”

           
“Yeah, I remember that,” Arrow says. “My mom got it, too. For a few days there
I didn’t think she’d make it.”

           
“Yeah, it was a bad one. I remember watching a report about it a couple months
ago. Scientists say now that the climate has gone hay-wire, we can expect to
see more pandemics. Something about the warmer weather allowing mutated strains
of bacteria and viruses to spread and flourish.”

           
“That totally sucks,” Arrow groans. “I hate getting sick.”

           
“Yeah, I know. So anyway, we were all so sick we couldn’t even get out of bed.
Soon pretty much everyone in our apartment complex caught it, including Blade,
Harpoon, Krystal’s grandmother, and Dagger. But Dagger was the most hard-headed
man I’ve ever known. He refused to acknowledge he was sick, even when he
started vomiting. He continued going after criminals while the rest of us
stayed home to recuperate.”

           
“Oh, I see,” Arrow says gloomily. He’s a smart guy; he can probably guess where
this story is headed.

           
“Apparently one night he got a tip about where Caesar was hiding out. He
stupidly decided to go after him by himself. He… was killed during a shootout
outside some night club in Cincinnati.”

           
I struggle to keep my composure. Arrow’s embrace helps keep my tears in check.

           
“Lance and I found out he died the following morning, when we saw his
bullet-riddled corpse hanging from a light post on the news. If only he waited
until we got better. We could have helped him. He was probably so delirious
with fever that he didn’t know what he was doing. He was like a father figure
to me, and I miss him dearly. We’ve managed to stay afloat by continuing our
bounty hunting missions, but it’s hard. Dagger was so good at hunting down
crooks. Lance, Krystal and I are just amateurs who luck out every now and
then.”

           
“Jeez, now I feel even worse than I already did about stealing your captures,”
Arrow says.

           
“You should,” I reply, somewhat bitterly. “We busted our asses hunting down
those thugs, and you and Machete just swooped in at the last second and stole
from us. It sucked what you guys did.”

           
“I know, and I can’t apologize enough.” Arrow lowers his head in shame.

           
I instantly feel bad when I see how upset he is. Yes I’m still a little pissed
he and Machete screwed us out of some lucrative bounties, but my feelings for
him more than counteract that. I give his right hand a gentle squeeze, letting
him know I forgive him.

           
Arrow surprises me by leaning in for another kiss. I surprise myself when I
don’t resist. Our lips meet and remain connected as we slide off the tree stump
and lay in the grass. We spend the rest of the evening making out.

           
It’s easily one of the best nights of my life. Right here… right now… in
Arrow’s arms… all is right in the world.

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven:
Lance

 

           
I’m in the middle of dreaming about taking down Rasputin single-handedly when
frantic shouting jolts me awake. I crack open my crusty eyes to find Boom Boom
leaning over me, shaking my shoulders.

           
“Lance, wake up! Wake up!”

           
I lift my head. Dorothy is lying on my chest. My back aches from sleeping on
the ground. My mind is in a fog, which always happens when I’m roused out of a
deep sleep, but things are starting to come back to me. We set up camp for the
night and Boom Boom went for a walk. Arrow eventually went after her. I was
tempted to follow as well, but Dorothy and I were talking. Since she’s still
reeling from the death of her best friend, I didn’t want to be rude and ditch
her. Pretty soon we grew tired and lay on the grass. I must have drifted off to
sleep shortly after that. I glance over at Krystal, who’s snoring loudly on the
other side of our burned-out campfire. I don’t see Arrow and Machete, though.
The Moon Cruiser is gone as well.

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