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The Armageddon Machine

Page 7

by Mike Ramon

Chapter Six

  Manchester, UK

  May 27 -- 14:18 UTC/3:18 pm local time

  The car swerved across three lanes of traffic. The driver managed to regain control of the vehicle and looked in the rearview mirror; he couldn’t see them, but he knew they couldn’t be far off. Not for the first time he told himself that the whole thing had been a mistake--he should have just kept his mouth shut and his head down, and he would be safe at home right now. Instead he was frantically trying to flee the men who meant to silence him.

  What had he thought he was going to achieve? Men like him were not made to be heroes.

  He looked down at the wound in his abdomen. He was bleeding profusely, and he knew that if he didn’t receive medical attention soon he would die. He didn’t know how to get to the nearest hospital, and he didn’t want to stop and ask a pedestrian for help--he would only be getting them involved, putting them in danger as well.

  Sweat ran down his face, stinging his eyes; he tried to blink it away, not willing to take a hand from the steering wheel even for a brief moment. He made a right turn, and checked the mirror again. He still couldn’t see them. For the first time since there’d been a knock on his hotel room door that morning he started to feel something other than pure dread--he felt a glimmering sense of hope. Maybe he could outrun them, after all.

  He stopped at a red light. The man behind the wheel of the car next to him glanced over and did a double take. Kwon Hyun-kyoon pretended not to notice. Instead he looked in the mirror again, this time taking a good look at himself, seeing what the man in the other car was seeing: a middle-aged man sporting thick black-framed glasses, with terror written on his face; he looked pale and sweaty, with deep dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.

  The light turned green and Kwon Hyun-kyoon wasted no time, pushing down on the pedal and leaving the other car behind him. He looked down at his wound again; the bleeding didn’t seem to be slowing any. He reluctantly took one hand off the wheel and leaned over to open the glove box. He searched around and found some McDonald’s napkins, which he pulled out and set on top of the briefcase sitting on the passenger seat. He picked up three of them and held them to his abdomen. In seconds they were soaked through, and he tossed them down into the passenger-side footwell before grabbing another handful of napkins. He held them to the wound, and they too soaked through quickly. He tossed these napkins with the first bunch. He picked up the last couple of napkins and used them. When they were bloodied he tossed them down, too. He was out of napkins.

  He passed a red phone box, and considered making a U-turn and coming back around to it--he could call for an ambulance without putting any civilians in danger. He looked ahead for a good place to make the turn. There was a loud honk from behind, and he looked in the rearview mirror again. He saw the black sedan slaloming in and out between the other vehicles on the roadway.

  Kwon stepped on the gas, swerving around a slower moving car in front of him. He made a quick turn, the car’s tires squealing on macadam. The car followed after him, nearly sideswiping another vehicle as it took the sharp turn. Kwon drove as fast as could, struggling to keep an eye on the road ahead, as well as on the car chasing from behind. He blew through a red light; he hoped that cross traffic would slow down his pursuers, but they kept on coming. He had to swerve to avoid hitting a woman crossing the street, and the left tires of his car rode up on the sidewalk for a few seconds before he was able to pull back onto the road proper.

  Still they came. Kwon looked all about, searching for some avenue of escape and finding none. He was rocked in his seat as his car was bumped from behind. For a second he was sure that he would lose control of the vehicle; it stared to fishtail, the back end sliding out to the right. As he struggled to bring the car back under his control it strayed into the opposing lane. Another car nearly hit him, its driver slamming on the brakes and twisting the wheel around to avoid a collision. Kwon was able to get his own vehicle under control, and moved back into the left lane.

  He was bumped again from behind, but the contact lacked the force of the first one and Kwon stayed in firm control of the vehicle. He sped up, but his pursuers kept pace with him. He tried to make a tight left, but he was still going too fast and he finally lost control, the car spinning out and slamming into a telephone pole.

  When Kwon opened his eyes he had no idea where he was, but he knew that something was very wrong. His body was one big ball of pain. He smelled gasoline and motor oil. He looked around and realized two things: he was in a badly damaged car, and he was upside down, held in his seat by the safety belt.

  Then his momentary confusion faded away, and he remembered everything. He looked out through the shattered windshield, very afraid now. He could see the legs and feet of concerned onlookers.

  “Someone call for an ambulance,” a woman shouted.

  “I already did,” someone responded. “They’re on their way.”

  Kwon tried to maneuver himself in the seat. It was extraordinarily painful to move, but he knew that it was important to protect the briefcase. He searched the interior of the ruined car, looking for it. He finally saw it; it had somehow managed to wedge itself in the small space between the passenger seat and the floor of the car. He tried to reach for it, but was stymied by a sharp, tearing pain in his abdomen; it felt like he had a whole mess of broken ribs.

  One of the pairs of legs outside moved closer, and the person they belonged to bent down. Kwon’s eyes went wide as he realized that it was one of them, one of the men who were trying to kill him.

  “No, please! Don’t hurt me,” Kwon pleaded in Korean.

  The man leaned partway into the car through the hole in the windshield. He looked around, and Kwon knew that the man was also looking for the briefcase. There came the sound of approaching sirens, and the man backed out of the car, stood up and hurried away. As the sirens approached, getting closer, Kwon’s breathing deepened and became ragged. Then the world went black, and he felt no pain at all.

 

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