Beyond Armageddon IV: Schism

by DeCosmo, Anthony

  The Suburban watched the attackers race forward and then the SUV joined the pursuit from a safe distance. The Witiko Skytroopers rocketed away from their perch…

  …Fast. Faster. The urge to find and destroy so complete, so compelling…an intense addiction that muffled the hatred for those who had enslaved them.

  Like guided missiles, they burst onto the crowded freeway ignoring anything they had not been programmed to kill. A small passenger car—an obstacle—powered by a makeshift steam engine got knocked spinning across three lanes of traffic and over the concrete barrier into the southbound lanes where it sheered the side of a commercial van. That van careened over the west guard rail, disappearing toward Northwest 20th street below.

  A man dressed in a suit and tie wearing a white helmet road an electric scooter with his briefcase tied to a rear luggage rack. One of the living guided missiles rammed his ride, propelling the man off the seat into the air while sending the scooter bouncing away where it smashed the windshield of a speeding Toyota that, in turn, skidded and rolled end over end…

  …Gordon glanced in his mirror and saw a sedan rise up as if shoved from behind and nearly fly toward his car. He shifted the manual transmission down a gear and slammed the accelerator, speeding from seventy to eight-five in a heartbeat. The tumbling car fell onto and crushed its roof in a veil of sparks. A chain-reaction ensued, sending more vehicles sideways, skidding, and crashing into one another.

  Nina panicked at the sudden jolt of speed.

  "What? What is it?"

  "We've got a problem," he calmly relayed as he steered the car from the left-most lane to the center of the five, between two big trucks, then to the left again. "Get your rifle and open the sunroof. You're going to have to keep them off us."

  Even though her fear of the moving, weaving, and speeding car caused a shake in her hands, she did as instructed, pulling her M-4 from the rear seat while opening the sunroof with the push of a button.

  Gordon swerved right again to avoid a flatbed tractor trailer hauling a piece of construction equipment. As he did, Nina saw his face change. His eyes, in particular. They grew sharper, but she also saw a grin poking at the sides of his mouth under that bushy mustache.

  "Hey," he said without taking his eyes from the road. "Find something good on the radio, will you? This shit goes great to music."

  She ignored his request, offering only a grunt of disapproval as she hauled the upper half of her body through the open sunroof with her assault rifle ready to fire.

  Nina's ponytail got caught in the wind of the rushing automobile and fluttered in front of her face as she looked rearward. Traffic in grouped bundles seemed to fall away from either side of the car as the BMW raced at an insane speed.

  Their adversaries appeared, running along the freeway on four legs faster than most cars ran on four wheels. They could have been earthly lions—perhaps slightly larger—save for the armor plating covering their heads in a flesh akin to iron.

  She could not believe an animal could run so fast. She watched as one side-swiped a compact car, flipping it sideways.

  Nina fired first at the beast to her right as it came close enough to nearly nose the BMW. Her bullets hit the monster square in the forehead. The rounds bounced away, unable to penetrate its natural shield. However, the beast scrunched its head and neck to absorb the impact, causing its pace to slow. That one fell behind, at least for the moment.

  She turned her gun on the second and let fly several volleys, only vaguely aware of the cars passing in the background. Her first shots ricocheted off the highway pavement, possibly into bumpers and windshields, she did not know.

  The BMW banked hard to the left. Nina saw why as they zoomed by a slow-moving cement truck. That bigger vehicle caused the closest attacker to hurriedly adjust its path, darting across two lanes to the far side.

  Nina turned her barrel to the first Speed-Lion as it caught up again and fired, hitting it once more on its front end. Its eyes—featureless red bulbs—glowed hotter in what had to be frustration or anger. Yet still, while the bullets did not hurt the beast the impact of the shots caused it to decelerate. It faded a good fifty yards back, taking out its frustration on a motorcyclist that it sent—bike and all—over the bank and off the Interstate.

  Nina again changed her focus just in time to ward off the second attacker as it cut across the lanes and tried to side swipe the BMW. One of her bullets hit the flank of the creature where a splash of crimson liquid squirted forth, but either the damage did not hurt the thing or the impulse to pursue and kill overrode any pain. Nonetheless, its swipe at the BWM's side was temporarily chased off.

  When Nina pulled the trigger again, she heard a depressing 'click' from an empty magazine. Standing there in the roaring wind and taking pot shots at beasts that ran like race cars had caused her mind to lose track of munitions. However, Interstate 95 entered another cloverleaf and a mass of additional vehicles joined the northbound parade. The new traffic forced the Speed-Lions to adjust their course, buying her a few seconds respite

  Nina descended into the cabin of the car and secured a fresh clip. Gordon's hands gripped the steering wheel tight but his expression remained almost child-like in its fascination. She figured him to be 'high' on the adrenaline of the situation, having seen similar looks in the eyes of her men during firefights.

  Amidst the roaring engine, the shifts from third to fourth gear and down again, and the squeal-inducing lane changes, Gordon found time to speak.

  "Well, looks like we know how high up this goes."

  Nina spoke in a melodramatic voice, "You mean, like all the way up to Evan?"

  "Oh now honey, if you're just figuring out that Evan is involved, you're way behind. The question has never been if Evan is involved," he rocked the car to the left to pass a station wagon full of day laborers. "The question has been, who's in it with him? I think it's safe to say that Dante Jones, the Witiko, and Internal Security are up to their eyeballs."

  "Internal Security?" Nina pushed a fresh magazine into her rifle.

  "Oh c'mon. Here we are in the largest city in The Empire on the busiest road around in broad daylight. Where are the choppers? Where are the patrols? Where is Internal Sec—"

  The steering wheel spun in Gordon's hands as the entire vehicle was shoved to the right by one of the Speed-Lions nudging the rear quarter panel as if to say 'don't forget about us.' Nina shouted anxiously while Gordon struggled to regain control. They skidded across four lanes of traffic heading hard toward a concrete retaining wall.

  He pointed the wheel in the direction of the slide and lifted his foot from the accelerator. At the same time Nina watched the wall grow bigger…harder, the smell of frying rubber shot in through the air vents, the out-of-control sedan cut off two half-ton trucks that blared air horns then slammed into one-another—

  Gordon caught the slide, the rear-drive car fishtailed as he pointed north again and hammered the gas with a fury, throwing Nina back into the passenger's seat.

  Nothing more needed to be said. As the car straightened…as the scenery around the freeway again turned into one big blurred tapestry…Nina climbed her way to a stand with her top half sticking out the sunroof and her gun sights searching for targets. The car crossed lanes again—this time in a controlled fashion—and took station in the center of the highway as the road cleared of traffic for a stretch.

  Nina spotted the creature that had hit them, ten yards behind. She unloaded burst after three-round burst at the beast. It seemed to shrug its shoulders so as to increase the protection of its armored mane. Then it hopped straight up and over a slower-moving gold and silver Rolls Royce. The shots Nina fired at the Speed-Lion hit, instead, the windshield and front hood of the luxury car. A red splash from the driver's seat exploded onto the inside of the Royce's shattered glass and the vehicle spun round and round like a top, seeming to fall away from her as the chase continued forward at break neck speed.

  The four-legged hunter landed on i
ts feet in full stride. Nina did not have time to weep for the innocent killed by the crossfire. She fired again at the same enemy as her ride turned hard to the right, following the bend in the road as they traversed through another cluttered combination of on and off ramps. She hit the Speed-Lion in the face but, once more, only managed to annoy it. However, it did retreat with a jump across the center concrete barrier into the oncoming southbound lanes as if searching for shelter from the pestering bullets.

  Meanwhile, Gordon realized they had long since passed the exit for Miami Shores, but that did not matter. There would be no going to Ernie's house. He needed no more evidence than the Witiko Skytroops he spied shadowing them and the creatures pursuing that Ernie had been compromised. Suddenly Miami burned too hot even for him.

  Nonetheless, before he could do anything about that, he had to get them out of their current situation. No small task but--

  --he swerved into the far right lane to bypass a pair of motor coaches then maneuvered the crisp-handling sedan to the center of the road again.

  No small task but he figured he could turn this problem into an opportunity; the type of thing he always did either for Trevor Stone or for his masters in the old world. The little piece of insurance he took from Omar before saying goodbye to Pennsylvania would give him—if it worked—the one ace he needed.

  In the driver's side mirror he saw one of the creatures move off to the southbound lanes. Nina's shots did not damage the monsters but the creatures did not enjoy being shot, either.

  Gordon glanced to the passenger's side exterior mirror.

  Oh shit.

  The second attacker had avoided Nina's watch and neared for the kill. It raced alongside the sedan bounding forward with its iron-ish head and ruby eyes bobbing up and down like a galloping race horse. Gordon thought fast. He turned a problem into an opportunity.

  Knox jogged the wheel to the right as if threatening the beast with a collision. This encouraged the Speed-Lion to instinctively move…just enough.

  The monster that could run as fast as a Ferrari slammed into the rear end of an 18-wheeler full of foodstuffs. The trailer crumpled and the cab jackknifed. As the mess faded quickly from view, Gordon saw the truck topple over but no sign of that attacker.

  One down.

  Nina admired Knox's handiwork from her view in the sunroof. On the other side of the highway, the remaining Speed-Lion sped along pre-occupied with dodging oncoming traffic and considering a new avenue of attack.

  Above the honk of horns, the gush of wind, and the constant race-car growl of the BMW's engine, Nina heard a noise. A hiss, maybe.

  She glanced around until finding the source of the new sound. It came from an object several hundred feet above and behind. There against the backdrop of a beautiful blue sky she spied a light. No, not a light, a flash. A silvery flash reflecting the south Florida sun.

  The Witiko Skytroop's jetpack roared at full throttle to keep pace with the pursuit…then he stopped and hovered in mid-air and took aim with his one-shot rocket launcher. The alien's hovering body wobbled as the projectile fired. A plume of gray smoke spat from the orange flames at the tail of the missile as it swept down, locked on the speeding car.

  Nina's eyes widened and her pulse quickened but she could offer no defense against the descending rocket. Like all such Witiko weapons, this one moved relatively slow, lumbering through the air. But she also knew it to be very precise. Despite the weave and bobs of the car between traffic, the guidance system in the nose of the thing remained focused on its target while the igniting liquid fuel caused it to dive bomb on perfect course for her destruction.

  Her mouth hung open.

  This is it.

  She heard the rumble of the rocket's flames, she saw the red-tipped nose where a deadly charge waited to finish its mission, she could nearly read the alien symbols on the outer casing.

  The car drove faster and faster but the missile lunged for the kill and—

  --darkness shrouded Nina and the car. She heard the clap of an explosion and felt a shake from the shockwave. Then a burst of light again as the day's brilliant sunshine enveloped them once more.

  Nina saw a cloud of smoke and a sheath of concrete debris billow skywards from the pavement of the Ives Dairy Road overpass that crossed atop the Interstate at exactly the right moment. The missile—interrupted in its journey by luck—detonated there a few yards above its intended target. Instead of destroying the fleeing car it destroyed concrete.

  As the life-saving overpass faded fast behind the speeding BMW, Nina stood in the open sunroof breathing out gasps of air. Her heart thudded fast and those gasps turned to a laugh of relief—not humor—as she understood she still lived for no reason other than sheer chance.

  Her moment of rejoice was chased away by the zing of bullets mere inches from her nose. She turned to her right and saw a second Witiko flying parallel to her over lanes of southbound traffic some twenty yards away with his Gatling-gun whirring.

  She huffed a determined grunt, raised the M-4 to her marksman's eye, and squeezed the trigger. The first round of shots went wide, but the second hit the alien's jet pack. His controlled flight turned into something akin to a pin-poked balloon. His body barrel rolled over and over while streams of hissing vapor escaped from a ruptured line in his rockets.

  GONG.

  The out-of-control Witiko slammed into the backside of an exit sign straddling the southbound lanes. His broken body stuck there for a second, then dropped like a dead sack to the lanes below where it crunched beneath the wheels of a garbage truck.

  Over there in that same area, the pursuing Speed-Lion raced along with its eyes on the BMW but still hesitating to attack.

  Nina felt a tug on her BDU pants. She lowered into the cockpit of the car.

  Gordon told her, "Get buckled up. I want to get off this highway. I want to find somewhere quiet and isolated, like a dead end or something."

  "Oh," she sarcastically remarked. "You mean like a trap?"

  "Yeah," his eyes gleamed at the suggestion. "A trap. Now hold on!"

  Gordon swung the car onto an exit ramp that descended east off the Interstate. The Speed-Lion saw the move and cut across both the southbound and the northbound lanes of 95 in pursuit. Instead of following on the concrete ramp, it leapt the guardrail and descended a grassy embankment a few dozen yards behind the fleeing automobile.

  Gordon nearly lost control as he moved them off the ramp onto a neighborhood street, racing by one of the new "In and Out" convenience stores on the corner where the off-ramp met the avenue. That store sat directly in the path of the fast-moving beast.

  Instead of slowing…instead of going around…the Speed-Lion crashed through the rear wall of the market and disappeared from view as the black sedan accelerated to escape. The front plate glass windows with neon beer signs and poster board advertisements for homemade cigarettes exploded outward as a monster-sized bullet fired through the entire store. The Speed-Lion never missed a step, erupting from the tunnel it had punched through the market and falling in behind the BMW.

  Gordon hammered the gearshift down and accelerated at full power as the car and the creature that chased it caught up with a herd of migrating automobiles across two lanes heading east and two more heading west. Instead of fast-moving Interstate travelers the chase found itself in the midst of crawling neighborhood drivers moving between sidewalks filled with pedestrians, family shops, and street vendors. A red light held the lanes at a standstill as the action raced toward an intersection.

  Nina closed her eyes as Gordon side-swiped a rusting SUV waiting for the green and sped through the stoplight.

  The Speed-Lion leapt in the bed of a waiting pick up then soared across the intersection through the air, landing at a fast gallop.

  Far behind the chase near the blasted-through remains of the "In and Out" convenience store, the black Suburban that had observed the battle on the Interstate from afar swerved off the ramp and onto the side street with Hobbs
driving and Roos impatiently tapping his knee. The remaining Witiko—the one that had fired the unlucky rocket and who controlled the slaver device on his wrist—flew above the Suburban's roof.

  In the meantime, the Speed-Lion tried to close for the kill but Gordon expertly swerved through the gridlock using the mess to block the enemy's approach. Frustrated, the creature bound over a hatchback, crushing its roof, then tried running on the sidewalk to avoid traffic where it tossed pedestrians aside.

  "Here," Gordon whispered more to himself than Nina, "this will do."

  He slammed the brakes, released, and steered hard to the left, skidding sideways as they left behind the markets and vendors of the main drag and sped between neglected warehouses and a defunct U-Haul dealership. The enemy followed first at a distance but then closer as the lack of obstacles allowed it to reach top speed.

  The black SUV and flying Witiko Skytrooper also fell in behind.

  Gordon kept the gas pedal to the floor, topping eighty miles per hour on a street designed for less than half that in the old world. Rusted cars, bent street signs, and trash-filled parking lots blurred in the side windows.

  "Gordon," Nina noted their path and warned. "Dead end."

  Ahead they saw the silhouette of a raised highway, no doubt I-95 but no on-ramp invited a merge; no exit presented itself. Instead, a concrete barrier wall separating the quiet street from the confines beneath the Interstate offered a sudden stop as the only option while the right side of the road dropped off steeply into a drainage ditch and the left side was dominated by a featureless, cinderblock exterior belonging to a building whose purpose had died with Armageddon.

  Gordon laughed under his breath. Behind them the Speed-Lion slowed as it sensed its quarry to be trapped.

  "Gordon!"

  His hands worked fast as he depressed the clutch, turned the steering wheel, and pulled the emergency brake. The BMW 540i's ass-end swung around while its front felt glued in place. Nina's head banged hard off the passenger's side window to the point that she saw stars. The tires erupted in torched rubber.