Death Highway

by J C Walsh

  “Funny,” I say. “They looked like they were spooked by something.”

  “We are entering territory they want no part of; the thing that rides here is a vile creature. He is known as The Collector.”

  15.

  The area we drive through next is a desolated town. It’s look like something from picturesque America 1950’s got hit by the atomic bomb. Instead of driving through neighborhoods, it’s as if parts of that time got blown separately from each other and landed in the Red Plane in random sections along Death Highway.

  The first thing I saw was a rustic gas station, with the old gas pumps. The sands of time have covered half of the structure. Every house used to have the look like it was pulled out of a postcard. But, like the gas station, every dream is weather beaten, stripped down and decimated by the conditions of this world.

  The sense of dread that the reptilian creatures felt is very much present in this part of Death Highway. There is a malevolent force lurking close by. The reptilians and the hogs might just be frightened creatures who don’t like intruders in their area and react the way they do once threatened. I don’t blame them.

  Whatever is here thrives on chaos and madness.

  A building looms tall up ahead. It’s made of the similar black onyx stone the creatures used to build their city and for New Providence. Upon closer look, it appears to be a station. Only one set of train tracks lead out from it, going the opposite direction, east along the desert. There isn’t a sign of any trains leaving, no bustling about of people waiting to take any form of transportation from this strange station. It’s just here, smack dab in the middle of a desert, along an eternal highway. The statue in front of the building is one of a ghoulish looking thing, dressed in a bus driver uniform. He’s even got a transportation driver’s cap on his head. I don’t think I have ever seen anyone wear those anymore. I couldn’t wait to get out from under the shadow of this building and that statue. Of all the things I’ve witnessed, this one really fills me with dread.

  There’s a tunnel attached to the building; however, there’s no road that leads to it. To get to the tunnel, one would have to drive off road and onto the sand. There’s no doubt that tunnel leads to the station. A sound comes from the tunnel; whatever it is, it’s moving fast. A bull horn blares from within. The tunnel is a mouth and it bellows the noise like a creature of immense size.

  “What the hell is that?” Jack asks.

  “Whatever it is, it’s big,” Alex says.

  “Randy? Anything from our mutual friend?”

  I sigh, “The Scarred One calls it The Collector.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Will asks.

  We are about the find out.

  The thing making the gigantic noise speeds out of the tunnel like a bullet; its huge wheels cuts through the sand with no problem. The vehicle is slightly bigger than the ones we were used to back home. Something about its metallic surface shines more than it should, organic and flesh like.

  “What the hell? A bus?” Jack asks.

  “Guys be careful of that thing,” I warn,” You don’t know what it’s capable of.” But then again, neither do I.

  “Do you know what to expect Scarred One?”

  I can feel him shaking my head. “He collects damned souls that have nowhere to go. Some easily go with him; some must be influenced, lied to, or just completely tricked. If he’s on Death Highway, then he’s got a good reason. There’s nothing random about this being.”

  The bus rolls up in the lane next to me. Cody sees this as opportunity and speeds up. He’s going to move in when the time is right for him, and that makes him one of the most dangerous in this race.

  The driver is the ghoulish figure represented by the statue back at the station. His skin is the color of bluish mold. The skin is worn so thin it looks like a skull under that bus cap and spots cover his face like crypt moss. He leers at me with white eyes; no pupils can be seen. His mouth forms a lipless grin.

  He grabs the radio speaker from above. “Ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen!” The people riding the bus turn to look at the driver. The lighting inside of the bus is tinted a dirty green. When it flickers, it reveals the decimated souls underneath the people riding this terrible thing.

  His finger points accusingly at me. “You see this piece of monkey shit driving next to us?”

  They all turn their collective heads in my direction at once.

  “This one here and his merry band of assholes are here to destroy what you worked hard for, what you earned in this world that is rightfully yours. Well, they are here to take it all away, all for themselves. Let’s show the greedy bastards how we welcome their treachery in our world!”

  The lights flicker. They go from lost shambles of a human soul to something more sinister, something corrupted by the poison of this thing’s tongue and its cursed vehicle. Their bodies contort and stretch upward; their flesh is black and shiny with scales. They have no eyes; their mouths open, hanging low as they hiss.

  All the bus windows drop open.

  The opening looks too small for the demonic beings to be able to fit through. Somehow, they manage to contort their bodies and push through the opening. First the head, gelatin like, pushes out, and then the long arms. The creature places its hands on the outside of the bus and pushes, slipping the rest out with ease. Others follow, doing the same with their bodies. Now there’s three or four of them crawling around the bus like fish riding a whale, eating the bacteria off its body.

  The first one lifts its head towards me and hisses. It leaps from the bus; the strength of the thing forces the large vehicle to lean to one side. In one jump, from the bus to the asphalt, it closes the distance to my car. Midnight Beauty nearly loses control when it lands sideways, attaching itself to the passenger side of my car. I regain control of my car. The creature scurries to the front of the car, standing on the hood, blocking my view. It’s head cocks to one side then the other; I stare right back. The Scarred One is reloading the cylinder of the snub nose. I want to admire the trick he’s managing of doing it all one handed while I drive, but I’m afraid, if I take my eyes off my assailant, I could pay a heavy price. It moves quickly on all fours, making its way to my window. The Scarred One passes the hand gun to me with my right hand and then takes the wheel, keeping the car steady, while I pump some bullets into the ugly bastard.

  The first shot misses. The creature moves with lighting quick reflexes. I miss again, but then the side of its head explodes when the other three hit their target. I stare into the abyss; it too bleeds black. The creature tries to shake off the damage to take a swipe at me, but quickly grows weak and loses its grip on my car door. My back tire thumps as I run over its body.

  Laura is getting attacked, having a difficult time shaking it off. The Scarred One uses my right hand to down shift, as I brake to line up with Laura’s car. I pass the gun over to my right side, so I can take the wheel, steadying the car as we back up with one side of the car on sand and the other on asphalt. The gun is reloaded and passed to me. I shift gears as we come around the rear of Laura’s car. My arm sticks out, and I start firing at the creature on the passenger side of the purple Cuda. It’s body jerks as the bullets strikes it. It loses its grip, and thump, another one under my tires. Wish I was keeping score.

  Laura and I move forward so Alex and Will are now aligned with the bus on the left side of it. Jack maneuvers himself so he’s driving on the sand, coming up to the right side of the bus where other shadow creatures wait to be unleashed. He starts firing. The blackened bodies jerk, like they are dancing, as the bullets rip through them. Alex and Will empty rapid fire bullets into the two beings still latching onto the bus. The bus shudders as it takes the damage; the two creatures are dead on the asphalt.

  “Hey, Randy.” Alex calls over the radio.

  I grab the speaker. “Yeah, what’s up.”

  “Dude, the bus is bleeding. I’m not shitting you. We swiss cheesed it, taking out the last two
of those things; red shit is dripping from the holes.”

  I hang up the speaker; the radio squawks.

  “You assholes are in a whole lot of hurt now,” The Collector says.

  I snake my car between Laura and the bus, speeding up. Once I got enough distance, I cut the wheel, downshift, and do a one eighty so that I am facing the front of the bus and I keep the car in reverse.

  “Randy,” Laura says, “This is not the time to get fancy, babe.”

  The Scarred One and I do our trick of switching hands from the wheel to reloading the gun, and then he takes the wheel again while the .38 is in my left hand, hanging out the window. I fire off shots at the bus. Three holes appear in the window to the right of the driver. The next two hit their mark. Black blood splatters the windshield, obscuring his view. The bus swerves left and then right. He’s losing control. The body of the bus squirms as it rights itself back in the lane.

  “Did you see that?” I ask.

  “Yes.” The Scarred answers.

  There’s a horrible screeching sound of metal on metal as the bus tears itself apart. The top half pulls away from the bottom. The middle of the grill is now an open mouth, the torn shards are teeth. Inside the mouth is a churning abyss of gears and machinery, all meant to break down flesh and bone of the unfortunate souls to be consumed by this nightmarish creature.

  “Oh yeah!” The Collector yells excitedly over the radio, “How do you like her now!”

  The bus monster roars in response. Its mouth opens wider. It’s gaining speed, about to close the gap between us. We need to think of something or we’ll be the ones ground up in the organic machinery.

  “I got this!” Will yells over the radio.

  His car speeds up, fits in between my car and the monster bus just right. The mouth is close to Will’s car now; the bottom teeth scrapes against the bumper.

  “Will! What are you doing?”

  “What needs to be done my brother, I don’t just build land mines in the woods.” He smiles at me.

  Oh, shit. He rigged his NOS tank.

  “You might want to get out of the way.”

  The back of Will’s car is fully inside the mouth of the bus. It chomps down, metal crunching and grinding on metal. The bus feeds on Will’s car, up to the rearview mirror now. The front wheels spark and burn; the front of Will’s bumper skids on asphalt.

  “Makaveli Mother Fucker!”

  I cut the wheel and drive onto the sand, pulling away from the bus just in time. Will’s car explodes. It makes a fiery crater in the things mouth. The monster grill catches fire, smoke obscures the windows. The creature squeals in pain. It loses control. It shifts to the right, then to the left, nearly clipping Alex and Jack, then back to the right and off Death Highway.

  At this point, I’ve performed another one eighty turn, car facing forward. I’m back on the road, watching the bus creature. It’s writhing back and forth trying to get rid of the fire. The bus flips over, insectile legs grow out from the bottom. It wiggles like a pill bug stuck on its back. It was mewling in pain, kicking up sand everywhere.

  “This isn’t over,” The Collector says, “I’m not easily killed; I’ll find you.”

  I leave no reply.

  We move onward. We’ve caught up with Cody. He smiles at me; I give him the finger. I want to ask him if he enjoyed the show, watching our friend give his life like that. But, then again, I remind myself that those are the rules The Dead One set.

  “Will, man, I can’t believe it,” Alex says over the radio.

  “I know,” I answer.

  I can hear that Alex is getting choked up. Then he asks, “Were his last words a Tupac quote?”

  I smile. “Yep.”

  “That fucking,”- he busts out laughing. I don’t hear Laura or Jack over the radio, but I can see their smiles in the mirror.

  “Can we just kill each other and get this shit over with?” Alex asks.

  “I’m ok with that,” Cody adds.

  Up above, a black cloud is heading towards us; it’s faster than the others. It breaks apart in swarms.

  16.

  The swarm swoops down. They vary in size, from that of a small dog to a full human.

  It’s all I see, these alien insects, flooding my vision. I keep driving. The smaller ones hit the windshield, busting open. Green shit that’s supposed to be blood drips down the windshield on the passenger side. I’m still able to turn the wheel and shift out of the way when the bigger one’s charge at me, though it’s hard to see amongst the countless swarm.

  I hear gunfire, but I can’t tell who’s shooting. The only one I can see is Cody’s car. The flames grow in height. The bugs crash into them and burn. Some die and roll off his hood a smoldering corpse; others fly away engulfed in flames.

  One of the bigger ones catches me off guard when I swerve to avoid one that’s a similar size. It crashes through the middle of my windshield. It buzzes madly as it tries to break free. I can still see, so I continue to focus on the driving, but I need to do something about this thing. If it destroys the rest of my windshield, I am screwed. I picture my body overrun by these things; my body shivers.

  Getting a good look at this thing, I see that it has spikes that run across its back. The wings are more mammal, a dark purple with yellow veins running through the flaps of the wings. The head looks like it would belong to a worm, just a little larger and rounder. It opens, a long mouth snaps out trying to attack.

  “Oh shit!” I grab the snub nose and fire all six bullets into its mouth and round head. It’s dying but not completely dead yet. It’s still advancing on me.

  “Fuck this.”

  The Scarred One grabs it by the extra mouth and rips it out. The bright shit green blood drips from the wound and the severed piece. He throws it to the floor, then grabs under the round head and squeezes, I almost gag at the smell of it as it oozes over my hand. It goes into death throes before it finally dies, still in my windshield.

  “At least it can’t do any more damage.” The Scarred One says.

  I don’t argue. He reloads the .38. Now what. This swarm seems like it could last the rest of the ride on Death Highway. My car rocks back and forth some more from the impact of the bugs. I can hear new dents getting created with each larger one that strikes the side of my car.

  “We need to do something. I don’t know how much damage any of our cars can take.”

  “I’m going to borrow some fire.”

  I see a huge flame light up nearby. The things squeal in pain as they burn. It’s Cody’s car; the Scarred One is now controlling his flames. With the flick of the wrist, streams of it like a blow torch lights up the swarm. Laura’s car is nearby. Some of the things are latched on to the Cuda; they burn to a crisp and fall.

  “Where’s Alex? And Jack?”

  Scarred One lights up another area. I can see Jack’s car, as the ones that latched onto it have died now.

  “Dude,” Alex calls, “I think I’m done for.”

  I grab the radio. “Where are you, hang on, we got a way out.”

  “I think I got pushed back too far, half my windshield is smashed.” I can hear them now, buzzing crazily. Alex screams, something tears.

  “Alex!”

  “I’ll see you around, buddy. I am piggy backing on Will’s heroic exit. Peace!”

  Somewhere behind us, we hear an explosion. Alex must have popped a couple of grenades and let them sit on top of the NOS tanks. The swarm finally clears. Death Highway and the Red Plane never looked so good, after having a swarm of angry cosmic bugs in your face.

  “Can we get rid of that please?” I ask, pointing to the carcass of the thing. My right hand opens; the force of air pushes it out. It lands in the road and then meets my tires.

  “How bad is everyone’s damage?” I ask.

  Sounds like whoever’s left, Laura, Jack, and myself have suffered the same dents in our cars. Their windshields have some cracks, but nothing close to the gaping hole in mine.

 
; “I’m doing great,” Cody chimes in. I ignore him. If it’s just me and him in the end, I swear I’m the one who’s going to end him.

  “Can we fix any of the damage?”

  “I should really save my energy, Randy, I have a feeling what’s coming next will make The Collector look like kid stuff. ”

  “Shit. What could be worse than that lunatic?”

  “The Death Stalkers.” The Scarred One replies.

  Why did I ask?

  17.

  Things are coming out of the sand. We’ve driven maybe ten miles. I don’t know about everyone else but I am thankful for the break. The only thing that kept me tense was Cody. He hasn’t really tried anything since the start of the race. Since we met the onslaught of residents of Death Highway, he’s been spectating. I expect him to strike at any moment. Right now, I am thankful for the quiet. I am just trying to enjoy the drive, even if it’s a landscape that’ll kill you.

  I first noticed there were things coming out of the sand when I saw the way the ground moved. I took it for a mound at first, the size expanding a trick of the heat mirage. Then the mound got larger, and the sand pulled away.

  Engines shriek, the sound is horrifying, piercing my ears.

  “You see these things,” Jack asks.

  “Yeah,” I answer.

  “ Just be ready,” Scarred One says, “ These may be the Deathstalkers. Apparently they are worse than the bus monster.”

  “What? How’s that even possible?”

  I look in my rearview mirror at one of the nearly risen creatures, but I don’t know what I am looking it. It looks like a mound of flesh with two wheels.

  “Randy!”

  I look up in time to see one heading in my direction, and fast too. I swerve just in time to get out of its way. My car rocks from the sheer force of its speed. In the rearview mirror, I see it turn sideways, barely slowing down. It is easily able to maneuver on two wheels, even at that speed. I had lost count since the first mound; what was that ten? Twenty of them? If that’s the case, we are outnumbered, and they are closing in fast. The open air is surrounded by their engines, loud and powerful enough to make your ears bleed.