Highway To Armageddon (53 page)

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Authors: Harold Bloemer

BOOK: Highway To Armageddon
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“What do you think it is?” I ask, peering over his shoulder.

           
“I have no clue,” Lance says, sounding nervous. “It could be the Russians, or
maybe it’s Klaxton’s secret service detail coming to look for her.”

           
I bite my trembling lip. Neither of us are in any condition to fight. I hope
whatever’s coming is friendly.

           
Intense headlights blast our fragile eyes. Lance and I step back and squint at
the vehicle that emerges.

           
“Who’s there?” Lance shouts, his gloved hand crackling with electricity.
“Reveal yourself before I blow you to smithereens!”

           
The lights turn off, plunging us back into darkness. A familiar voice shouts,
“Lance? Boom Boom? Is that you?”

           
“K…Krystal?” I stammer.

           
A massive, wild-eyed black woman suddenly comes charging at us.

           
“Boom Boom! Lance! You guys are alive!”

           
Krystal swallows me up in a crushing bear hug and spins me around, making me
dizzy. She finally lets me go and rushes over to smother Lance.

           
I clutch my head. My entire world is spinning. But I’ve never been happier.
Blinking back tears of joy, I exclaim, “Krystal, I can’t believe you’re alive!
We saw you crash!”

           
Still hugging Lance, Krystal says, “The engine came to life right before I was
about to. I was able to glide to the ground, but when I landed the left wing
fell off. I drove along the river bank, following the wreckage of the chopper.
I hoped beyond hope I’d eventually find you guys. And I did! I did find you!”

           
Krystal starts blubbering. “I… I’m so glad you guys are okay. I would have been
lost without you.”

           
Lance pats our sobbing friend on her back. “We would have been lost without
you, took, Krystal. You and Boom Boom are my best friends… my only friends,
really.”

           
“I love both of you guys,” Krystal says in between sniffles.

           
“We love you, too,” I blubber back, joining the group hug.

           
We embrace each other for a long, long time, shedding tears over our traumatic
ordeal. It’s a cathartic experience, one we all badly need.

           
Krystal finally steps back and wipes her eyes on her sleeve. “Can we go home,
guys? I just… I’d really like to go home.”

           
I crack a genuine smile. It’s the greatest idea I’ve ever heard.

           
“Yes. Let’s go home.”

 

 

Chapter
Twenty-One: Lance

 

           
One week later…

 

           
I hate funerals. I always have and I always will. And even though Arrow and I
never got along, I hate his funeral more than most.

           
I hate how he died. I hate how I feel partially responsible, since I wasn’t
nearby to help him take down Rasputin. I hate how he died saving Boom Boom,
making me feel like I’ll never be able to pay him back… especially now that
he’s gone. I hate how his death reminds me of all the people who died before
him. My parents. Dagger. Sally.

           
Dorothy.

           
A frigid breeze sweeps rain in my face, forcing me to close my eyes. It’s not
raining hard, but the priest has been droning on for so long that my suit is
now soaking wet. My drenched hair hangs over my face. I keep shaking my head to
get the hair out of my eyes, but it doesn’t do any good. My damn hair always
manages to fall back over my eyelids. I am glad to see my hair is back to its
natural blond hue. It took days for the purple dye to wash away.

           
Boom Boom leans against me while quietly sobbing into a handkerchief. The poor
thing’s been distraught for days, ever since we learned the date of Arrow’s
funeral. According to the media, Machete carried Arrow’s body through
Rasputin’s burning lair so she could give him a proper burial. At first I
wondered how the media learned all this, but then I remembered Pitbull’s
robotic mosquito recorded everything going on in the dungeon. It must have
continued recording after Boom Boom and I left.

           
Boom Boom was hurt that Machete never bothered to stop by and check on us, or
to tell us about the funeral. We only found out when we saw Arrow’s obituary on
the Sanctuary 7 Gazette’s website. I don’t think Machete is even aware we’re
here. She’s been sitting up front, crying over Arrow’s casket all afternoon.
She keeps murmuring,
“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”
It’s enough to
break my heart. Arrow’s death has completely shattered Machete. He was all she
had. That’s even more evident by the fact no one else is at the funeral. There
are rows and rows of nothing but empty chairs. Like us, Machete and Arrow had
no family, and few, if any, friends.

           
I glance behind us. Krystal is sitting with Blade and Harpoon. The kids are
behaving themselves for the most part, which is remarkable considering they
both have bad cases of ADD. They do occasionally shove each other, but they
knock it off when Krystal twists their ears.

           
Blade and Harpoon were so excited to see us when we first got back, but they
were nowhere close to being as happy as I was. I think Boom Boom and I hugged
and kissed them for a good half an hour before they managed to squirm away.
Unfortunately, Krystal’s grandmother took a turn for the worst while we were
gone. Mrs. Madison had to call the ambulance and have her taken to the
hospital. Doctors fear she may only have a few days left. Krystal’s putting on
a strong face, but I can tell the prospect of losing her grandmother is
bothering her. It’s bothering us all. When she goes we won’t have any guardian
figures looking out for us. We truly will be on our own.

           
The rain picks up in intensity. We could easily move up a few rows, so that
we’re underneath the canopy hanging over Arrow’s casket. But I get the feeling
Machete wouldn’t like that very much. I don’t want to upset her more than she
already is. Just one week ago she was cocky and fiery, ready to take on an army
of bad guys at a moment’s notice, never showing any emotion save for anger and
annoyance. Now she is but a shell of her former self, robbed of the one thing
that brought her happiness… her only child.

           
While the priest rattles off passages from the Bible, I glance around at the
rest of the Sanctuary 7 Cemetery. The beautiful, three-story funeral home is
off in the distance, towering over a tranquil lake. A bunch of ducks and geese
are in the water, quacking and diving for food. The entire cemetery is massive,
with dozens of lakes and streams. Hundreds of elaborate tombs, statues, and
mausoleums are scattered all over the place. Tall trees hang over the smaller
gravesites, providing shade to weeping visitors when they visit in the
scorching summer months. Now most of the trees are barren, their leaves
covering the ground as a result of the rapidly approaching winter.

           
 My parents and Uncle Dagger aren’t buried too terribly far from us. I try
to visit as often as I can. I don’t know why, but it comforts me to do so. I
almost imagine they’re looking down on me, watching my back. I don’t know if
there’s a Heaven, but I like to imagine there’s some sort of afterlife. I like
to think Dorothy and Sally are up there right now. I even hope Arrow is with
them. If there isn’t an afterlife… if life on Earth is all there is… then our
Creator, whoever He or She or It may be, has played a cruel joke on us all.

           
Boom Boom’s sobbing intensifies. I pull her close and gently rub her head.
There’s nothing I can say to ease her pain. All I can do is be there for her,
like she’s always been there for me.

           
I can’t believe it’s only been a week since our manhunt for Rasputin came to a
brutal, horrifying end. It seems like a lifetime ago. After Krystal found us on
the shore of that Alaskan river, we decided to drive up to Washington, D.C.
That was the nearest city, and we were all in desperate need of medical
attention. We drove 50 miles over rugged terrain until we reached the nearest
hospital. We then checked ourselves in to get our wounds treated.

           
We were only in our rooms for a couple hours when a bunch of government agents
rushed in, flashed their badges to the startled nurses, and whisked us away to
some secret government facility. At first we were afraid Klaxton had sent her
people after us, but we soon realized we were actually being put into
protective custody, per the orders of Vice President Cindy LeBeau. LeBeau
didn’t want to run the risk of Klaxton sending assassins after us, since we
were the last people to see her before she escaped.

           
It turned out Vice President LeBeau had nothing to do with Klaxton’s conspiracy
to assassinate Empress Xing. She, like most of the rest of the world, found out
about the conspiracy from Pitbull’s live internet feed. LeBeau immediately went
to work having all secret service agents and administration officials arrested
and interrogated, to see who else was involved. The interrogations led to the
arrests of a few other high-ranking government agents, but so far Klaxton’s
conspiracy appears to have been confined to her small, tight-lipped inner
circle.

           
Shortly after the shocking internet feed went viral, LeBeau put out an alert to
all Alaskan hospitals to keep an eye out for young teens matching our
descriptions. That, of course, was how they found us so quickly. We were told
all of this by one of LeBeau’s top aides. A couple hours later the vice
president herself came in to talk to us.

           
To say I was unimpressed with LeBeau would be a drastic understatement. She did
not come across as presidential material, which is going to be a big problem
since she’s about to take Klaxton’s place as President of the United States
(once Congress officially impeaches her in absentia).

           
LeBeau is a meek, mild-mannered, almost shy Canadian woman in her mid-to-late
50s. She’s a bit thinner and taller than Klaxton, almost lanky, and she wears
red-rimmed glasses and has spiky black hair. As she talked to us (I guess to
gather information on Klaxton’s whereabouts) she didn’t even make eye contact.
She almost seemed intimidated by us, which is scary. The girls and I are
smart-mouthed 18-year olds. How’s LeBeau going to act when the Chinese start
pushing her around?

           
Speaking of the Chinese, LeBeau has done everything in her power to placate
them. Congress did a quick investigation on LeBeau and came to the conclusion
that she had nothing to do with Klaxton’s insane plot to ignite a world war.
The Chinese apparently believe that, too, because they haven’t demanded that
she step down. I personally feel the Chinese love the fact LeBeau is about to
become president. They know she’ll be much easier to manipulate than Klaxton.
The sole reason Klaxton picked LeBeau as her vice president (besides making
Canadians happy), was because she knew LeBeau wouldn’t
‘rock the boat’
and question her policies. Klaxton (and the rest of the country for that
matter) never actually thought LeBeau would ascend to the presidency. Now that
she’s about to, the entire country is incredibly nervous. LeBeau doesn’t
exactly install confidence in the American People. Say what you want about
Klaxton, but she was full of a confidence that was contagious. Americans knew
they could count on Klaxton to keep the Chinese at bay. LeBeau is the complete
opposite. She comes across as a complete pushover. The Chinese must be
salivating at the prospect of a LeBeau Presidency.

           
Speaking of Klaxton, she’s still on the run. It’s like she vanished off the
face of the Earth. The Chinese have pretty much forgotten about Rasputin
(especially after LeBeau informed them he’s dead). Now the Chinese want
Klaxton. In order to keep General Kang and Empress Xing happy, LeBeau put out a
$100 million
bounty on Klaxton’s head. Pretty much everyone on the
planet is now looking for her.

           
Right before LeBeau allowed us to leave (after her interrogators realized we
had no clue where Klaxton flew off to), we asked if she knew what happened to
Pitbull and the gang. One of LeBeau’s aides informed us police officers
searched the scorched remains of Rasputin’s cabin and found a bunch of dead
mobsters and secret service agents. Pitbull, Yin, and Yang, however, were
nowhere to be found. (I know for a fact Yin is dead, since I saw her brains get
blown out. Yang must have carried her body.) Igor, Norma, and a few others were
missing, too. They all must have escaped the inferno before the authorities
arrived.  

           
Before LeBeau let us go, she was kind enough to give us $100,000 for our
efforts in uncovering the conspiracy. It’s only a fraction of the bounty we
were promised for taking out Rasputin, but it’s a heck of a lot better than the
goose egg we were expecting. LeBeau also gave us a brand new car to fly back
home in. Last but not least, LeBeau pardoned us for burning down the Wild West
Settlement, wiping out Geronimo Blackbird’s bounty. (Caesar’s bounty is no
longer a factor, for obvious reasons.)

           
A rumble of thunder snaps me out of my thoughts. The rain is coming down in
sheets now. I pull my jacket up over my head, but it doesn’t do much good. It
feels like I just jumped into a lake.

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