“Well well well, look who it is, fellas,” Jesse Hunter cackles, swinging her machine gun toward us. Her buddies Ax, Cobra, and Snake-Eyes are right behind her, clutching machine guns as well (with the exception of Ax, who is holding his trademark ax).
“Fuck,” Grenade growls as we all turn around.
“Jesse, we don’t want to fight you,” I say in a shaky voice that betrays my rising fear.
“Shut your fucking mouth, you goddamn traitor!” Jesse screams, cocking her gun. “You betrayed us, and now it’s time you face the consequences. Prepare to die, motherfuckers!”
Jesse fires off a burst of automatic gunfire. Grenade, Krystal, River, Klaxton and I all dive for cover, barely avoiding the barrage of bullets. One of the bullets actually grazes my left shoulder. Thankfully my body armor prevents it from penetrating my skin, but the impact of the bullet still hurts like hell.
I slam onto the ground, getting mud all over my chest and face. I turn around to find Jesse dashing toward me, her gun aimed directly at my head. Out of my peripheral vision I see Cobra and Snake-Eyes firing their guns at the rest of the group. Krystal, River, and Klaxton duck behind a hut while Grenade attempts to block the bullets with his bionic arm. Several of the bullets slam into his chest. His body armor must shield him from most of the bullets, but he does cry out and collapse to his knees. Blood trickles out of his side, where a bullet managed to penetrate a weak spot in his armor.
I focus my attention back on Jesse just as she fires off another volley of bullets. I roll out of the way at the last possible second. The bombardment of bullets explodes into the ground, showering me in even more mud.
Jesse leaps into the air and kicks me right in the mouth. I fall flat on my back as an explosion of pain engulfs my entire face. It damn near feels like she broke my jaw in half.
“Give me that,” Jesse snarls, leaning down and tearing my electric glove off of my hand. She’s just about to put it on when I sweep my legs underneath her. Jesse falls flat on her back, giving me a few seconds to stagger to my feet.
I start to reach for my glove, which is lying in the mud a few feet away from me, when Jesse hops up and throws down her gun. “I don’t need to shoot you,” she says haughtily. “I can take care of you with my bare hands.”
I hold my fists out in front of me and garble, “I… I don’t want to hurt you, Jesse.”
I follow this up by spitting out a bunch of blood. Some of it starts trickling down my throat, which is just fucking nasty.
“This should be an easy fight, then,” Jesse says gleefully, punching me in my nose.
I curse and stumble back. Now blood starts trickling out of my nostrils. Fan-fucking-tastic.
“You dick,” I growl, throwing a punch of my own. Typically I try not to hit women, but when my life is on the line, I’m willing to make exceptions.
Unfortunately, my reflexes are all fucked up as a result of my withdrawal symptoms. Jesse easily ducks my punch and kicks me in the balls. I fall to my knees, moaning in horrific pain.
“That was a low blow,” I say in a high-pitched voice that would be humorous if it wasn’t for my dire predicament.
Jesse cackles as she whips out a knife and shoves it into my right side, penetrating a weak spot in my armor. I scream as even more agonizing pain erupts throughout my abdomen.
Jesse yanks the knife out and delivers a roundhouse kick to the side of my head. I fall backwards as piercing pain engulfs my entire skull and stars swirl around in front of me. I’m on the verge of blacking out, which will essentially be a death sentence. I focus all my mental strength on staying conscious. I will not give Jesse the satisfaction of killing me. I will die one day. Maybe even today. But it will not be at Jesse’s hands.
Jesse straddles me and hovers her bloodied knife over my neck.
“I’ll see you in Hell, bitch,” she cackles as the pouring rain cascades down over her shoulders and splatters on my bleeding face.
Jesse thrusts the knife toward my neck. I swing my hands up and somehow manage to grab her wrists. The tip of the blade comes within a few centimeters of plunging into my jugular. I push back with all my strength, but Jesse is way stronger than she looks. Or maybe I’m just too weak after everything I’ve endured the past several days. I grunt as my hands slide up Jesse’s slippery wrists.
“Nooo,” I whisper as the blade jerks ever-closer. The tip of the knife is so close, in fact, that it starts to penetrate my skin. Warm blood trickles out of the minute wound and oozes down my chest. Another inch or so and I’m dead as fuck.
“Jesse… please…” I gasp as I stare into her deliriously delighted, sadistic eyes.
“Go ahead and beg, you little bitch,” Jesse laughs, taking immense joy in my suffering. “Embarrass yourself. I’m going to kill you anyway.”
My hands continue to slide, allowing the knife to slip even deeper into my throat. I cry out as I realize the end is here. I just can’t believe I’m about to die in the middle of the Amazon, at the hands of one small girl. All the ways I could have died over the years, and this is the way I go? Are you fucking kidding me??
And then, as if by divine intervention, Jesse is yanked off of me, her bloodied knife falling into the mud. I push myself up and gasp for air, wiping away the blood still dripping from my neck wound. Thankfully the cut isn’t too deep. It should heal on its own. The pouring rain is already rinsing away most of the blood.
I spin around to find Klaxton straddling Jesse and mercilessly punching her in the face. Klaxton is the one who saved me? I don’t believe it. Has the world gone mad??
Klaxton punches Jesse a few more times, splattering blood all over the place. She then pulls out a knife and says, “Let’s see how you like it, cunt.”
Klaxton plunges the knife into Jesse’s throat. Jesse gags and thrashes around on the ground, her eyes bulging out of her head. Klaxton wriggles the knife back and forth, slicing Jesse’s throat to bits. Jesse finally stops moving and her eyes glaze over as a massive pool of blood seeps out from beneath her. Not even the monsoon-esque downpour can rinse all that away.
Klaxton stands up, her hands and arms covered in blood. She gazes at me and asks, in a cold, emotionless voice, “You alright?”
“Um, yeah,” I say as I stand up, my left hand still clutching my throat. “Uh… thanks?”
“Whatever,” Klaxton says, grabbing Jesse’s fallen machine gun and turning it toward Snake-Eyes and Cobra, who are still exchanging gunfire with Grenade, Krystal, and River (all three of whom are now crouched behind a bullet-riddled hut).
“Hey assholes, over here!”
Snake-Eyes and Cobra turn around just in time to receive insanely accurate gunshots to the head. They both fall back, blood pouring out of the gaping holes in their faces.
Grenade, Krystal, River, and I all stare at Klaxton in shock.
“Where the hell did you learn to shoot like that?” Grenade laughs as he hobbles out from behind the hut, still nursing the gunshot wound to his side. That immediately reminds me of my own knife wound. I guess all the adrenaline and endorphins gushing through my bloodstream have numbed most of the pain.
“You don’t become the most powerful woman on Earth without knowing how to defend yourself,” Klaxton says pompously. She turns toward Ax, who is standing in the middle of the clearing like a dumb fuck, his ax hanging limply in his left hand.
Klaxton points her gun at the flabbergasted Ax and says, “Who wants to finish him off?”
Krystal whips up her gun and blasts him in the forehead. Ax jerks back and collapses into a hemorrhaging heap.
Krystal looks at the rest of us and says, “Oh, I’m sorry. Did one of you call dibs?”
Klaxton flashes a rare smile. “I’m starting to grow quite fond of you.”
“Wish I could say the feeling was mutual,” Krystal zings back.
I snatch my electric glove out of a mud puddle and slide it over my right hand. “Alright guys, I think we’ve wasted enough time. Let’s get to the car and-
--”
I’m interrupted by someone behind me shouting, “Freeze! You all are under arrest for--- ARRGGGHHHH!”
I twirl around and fire off a burst of electricity, sending the hapless soldier flying 10 feet into the air and crashing through some bushes. Three more soldiers rush toward us, but Grenade and the girls take them down in a hail of gunfire.
“That was easy,” I say, turning around. “Now let’s---OOPH!”
All I see is a gleaming, metallic fist zooming straight toward my face. The next thing I know, I’m on the ground as yet another explosion of stars swirl around in front of me. I can’t see jackshit, but I hear Krystal yelping as she’s presumably punched in the face as well. Then I hear Grenade groan as the same bionic fist careens into his face. There are a few bursts of gunfire, followed by a scream.
By now I’m able to crack open my eyes and lift my head. I’m not terribly surprised to find Pitbull lifting Klaxton directly over his head and hurling her kicking and screaming body into a nearby hut. Klaxton crashes into the hut, and the roof collapses on top of her. I glance around to find Krystal face-down in the mud, and Grenade on his side, curled into a ball, his face covered in blood. Pitbull came out of seemingly nowhere and took us all down in a matter of seconds. He was probably staking us out from the bushes, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. The only person I don’t see is River. Where is she? Where did she… no!
River races toward Pitbull, screaming as she fires her handgun. Pitbull simply stands there in the middle of the clearing and cackles as the bullets bounce off of his metallic face and arms. When River gets close enough, Pitbull lunges forward and smacks her with the back of his hand. The THWACK sound generated when Pitbull’s metal hand hits River’s face makes me sick to my stomach. River flies into the air and lands in a crumpled heap about 20 feet away. When she doesn’t stir, I delve into a full-fledged berserker rage.
“Leave her alone, you son of a bitch!” I scream in a cracking voice, pushing myself up.
Pitbull chortles as he surveys the carnage wrought by his bionic hands. He glances at me, then looks at the broken, bloodied bodies of Grenade, Krystal, River, and finally the demolished straw hut that Klaxton is buried under.
“Well well well, if it isn’t the traitors who decided to fuck America in the ass! Without lube, no less!” Pitbull proclaims jovially, as if he’s having the greatest fucking day of his life. “Now who should I kill first? Ohhh, I know. Since you’re the only one still conscious, Lance, how about I start by gutting your sexy Indian girlfriend?”
Pitbull grabs River by her hair. Before he can hurt her again, I thrust out my glowing right hand and unfurl a blinding bolt of crackling electricity. The lightning bolt slams into Pitbull’s chest and blasts him off his feet. He lands in the mud about 15 feet away, his metallic body smoldering from the electrical assault.
I kneel beside River, grabbing her wrist and checking for a pulse. Relief washes over me when I detect a burst of blood beneath her vein.
Pitbull’s cold, heartless laugh rings throughout the village. I turn to find him slowly rising to his feet, his red eyes glowing menacingly.
“You fool, you should have finished me while I was reeling,” Pitbull says gleefully. “Trust me, you won’t get another chance.”
“We’ll see about that,” I growl, unfurling another burst of electricity.
This time Pitbull is ready for me. He crosses both of his arms in front of his face, deflecting the blast. I just barely leap out of the way in time when the lightning bolt ricochets back toward me. The electricity comes so close, in fact, that it causes my hair to stand up on end.
Pitbull sprints toward me and delivers a brutal kick to the side of my head. More stars swirl around in front of me as I fall onto my side, moaning in horrific agony. The kick was so savage that it may have knocked my spine out of alignment. It certainly feels that way.
I feebly lift my gloved hand, electricity flickering from my fingertips. Before I can fire another shot, however, Pitbull grips my wrist and wrenches the glove off. He then crushes it in his bionic right hand. Sparks fly out of the demolished glove as he tosses it off to the side, damaged beyond repair.
“Fuck,” I mutter as Pitbull continues clutching my right wrist. I really loved that glove.
Pitbull yanks me to my feet and holds me up by my shoulders. “You know, Lance, I actually like you. You’re a brash little smart ass, but you’ve got a lot of heart, and a lot of courage. I’m willing to let you live, so long as you help me dispose of your friends. You do that, I’ll be willing to forget your stunning act of betrayal and maybe let you rejoin my group. After all…”
Pitbull gestures his head toward the bullet-riddled bodies of his crew.
“… I’m in desperate need for some replacements.”
I respond by spitting in Pitbull’s face. Pitbull growls as saliva oozes down his metal-encased cheek.
“On second thought, I rescind my offer,” Pitbull says, lifting me over his head. I thrash around like crazy, but it’s to no avail. Pitbull pulls his arms back and hurls me toward a straw hut.
I crash through the roof of the hut and slam onto the dirt floor inside. Another burst of horrific pain explodes up and down my spine. The thatched straw roof collapses on top of me, adding further insult to injury. I try pushing myself off the ground and end up screaming as my back seizes up.
River’s earsplitting screams jolts me into action. I fight through the excruciating pain wracking my body and crawl out of the hut. Once I get aside, I somehow, someway totter to my feet, even though my back feels like it’s about to give out at any given second. If I somehow get out of this mess alive, I’m going to need to see a chiropractor. My back is completely fucked up.
I lurch my way toward Pitbull, who has his right hand clutched firmly around River’s neck. She is dangling 6-feet off the ground, frantically kicking her legs and clawing at Pitbull’s bionic fingers. But no matter how ferociously she struggles, she doesn’t come close to breaking Pitbull’s impregnable chokehold.
Pitbull sneers at River’s purplish face and says, “If I was feeling more charitable, girlie, I’d allow you to live and be my mistress. You are undeniably gorgeous.”
Pitbull gazes down at River’s bare breasts and licks his lips.
“Unfortunately, you and your buddies pissed me the fuck off,” Pitbull rattles on, clamping down on his chokehold. “And for that, you must die.”
I whip out a handgun and shakily point it at Pitbull’s head. My vision is all fuzzy (stars keeping popping out of seemingly nowhere) and my entire body is quivering from the drenching rain and all the pain shooting throughout my spine and limbs. I’m in no condition for a showdown with a nearly indestructible cyborg. But I’m not about to stand by and watch River slowly get strangled. I’m going to save her… or perish trying.
“Let her down, jackass!” I bark over another thunderous crack of thunder. “Let her down, or so help me God….”
Pitbull bursts out in his trademark cold, heartless cackle. His laugh is so loud that it almost drowns out the cacophony of gunfire erupting off in the distance.
“You just don’t know when to quit, do ya?” Pitbull says, swinging River around by her neck. I can tell from the indigo hue in her bulging cheeks that she is close to death.
I cock my gun and scream, “I said put her down! Put her down or I’m going to shoot!”
Pitbull laughs even louder. “Then go ahead and shoot me, punk! You already know your puny bullets will merely bounce off my armor! And do you really want to risk taking a shot at me when I’m swinging your girlfriend around like this?”
Pitbull goes back to flinging River around like a rag doll, her legs swinging like a pendulum.
I sway my gun back and forth, trying desperately to get a good shot at one of Pitbull’s robotic eyeballs (I figure the bullet will enter the bionic eye and exit out of his brain) or even his exposed snarling mouth. But with my brain throbbing like crazy, combined with Pitbull using Rive
r as a mobile human shield, the odds of me taking Pitbull down are slim to none. I’m more likely to shoot River than I am to hit him.
Pitbull grins when he sees me lowering the gun. “Good boy. Now put the gun on the ground, or I’ll snap your girlfriend’s neck.”
“Okay, just don’t hurt her,” I say weakly, dropping the gun into the mud.
“Now kick it over to me,” Pitbull barks.
I do precisely that, kicking the gun over to Pitbull with my right foot.
I raise my hands and say, “Okay, I did what you wanted. Now let her go.”
Pitbull’s grin transforms into a sadistic sneer. “You dumb fuck. Did you really think I was going to let this bitch live?”
Pitbull grabs River’s head with his left hand and gives it a quick jerk. There’s a horrifying snapping sound, followed by Pitbull dropping River’s lifeless body to the mud.
World War Forever (Highway To Armageddon Book 2) Page 43
