Crossing Bedlam (24 page)

“There’s a train coming,” Lloyd says, listening to his friend curse over the megaphone about a faulty gun. He chuckles at how she ends by screaming at him to turn the device off because she does not want their enemies to know they are defenseless. “I think I get it. You’re going to use Bart’s little toy to send us into the tunnel ahead of the train. This is really putting my theory that we’re characters in a story to the test. Where did you get an idea for a trick like this?”

“I saw a coyote escape from hunters by doing this with a subway.”

“We’re copying a fucking coyote?”

“They’re smart animals.”

“Not compared to a roadrunner!”

“What?”

“Never mind. Guess hit by a train is better than whatever these guys would do to us.”

The jeep is flanked by two cars, the one on their left attempting to launch a mortar and bursting into flames due to a misfire. As they drive along the edge of the minefield, the other vehicle sets off the explosives. Those who have no protection against the fire and heat scream in agony, their speed too high to avoid the unexpected danger. Several cars and vans are sent into the air as they hit more of the mines, the carnage causing enough chaos to stop half of their pursuers. Only the tractor trailers and those smarter enough to go around the obstacle continue the pursuit, but Cassidy is sure they have gained enough of a lead.

Her smile fades when she catches a glimpse of a jet engine on the back of a moving fortress, which is picking up speed. Anything loose falls off the larger vehicle as it rattles to the point where it may fall apart. With the train blaring its horn and refusing to slow down, Lloyd hits a blue button to inject nitro into the fuel line. The jeep lurches forward, but it is not as powerful as he expected. Checking his rearview mirror, he sees Cassidy hastily tossing hissing canisters of gas out the door. Realizing that the system has failed miserably, they are no longer sure they will beat the train to the tunnel. Even if they do, it will be faster on the tracks and probably smash into them long before they reach the other side.

Lloyd snaps his fingers and points at the mini-gun, hoping Cassidy gets what he is suggesting. It takes her a precious second to see that he wants her to fire on the train, the surprise attack having a small chance at slowing it down. Stunning the stirring mechanic before getting to the dome, the aching blonde aims for the engine and unloads everything the weapon has. The air is filled with shrieking brakes and the travelers get ahead of the train, which swiftly regains the momentum that it lost. Lloyd and Cassidy hold their breath as the jeep leaps onto the track and turns into the tunnel with the locomotive only a few yards behind. A tunnel-shaking boom happens and they see fire licking at the entrance while the train is derailed. The echo of gunfire can be heard throughout the tunnel as the locals fight the gangs, who are descending upon the damaged transport. From the sound of the battle, the Nebraskans are more than a match for their already battered enemies.

“You got the tractor trailer to hit the train,” Cassidy says with a chuckle. “That should keep them off us for a while.”

Lloyd wipes sweat from his brow and smirks. “All part of the plan.”

“You really meant to go across the tracks and get around the barrier.”

“I may have turned the wheel right instead of keeping it straight.”

“How could you possibly make that mistake?”

“Ever sneeze, burp, and cough at the same time?”

“Just keep driving, Lloyd.”

*****

A howling wind rattles the barn’s shuttered windows, the eerie noise making the mechanic very nervous. Limping around the jeep on his bad leg, the man takes his time admiring the beauty in front of him. After years of building and repairing the grotesque machines of the gang that adopted him, seeing something so natural makes him feel a little choked up. He is unable to indulge in the sensation due to Cassidy anxiously sitting on a nearby crate with her handgun at the ready. She has already winged his ear after an escape attempt, which the mechanic argued was due to him being confused upon waking up. Knowing almost daily brutality from the gang leaders, he is unsure why this unassuming woman makes his mouth go dry in fear faster than anything else in Nebraska.

“Remember that I know enough to see if you’re sabotaging us,” Cassidy states, interrupting the man’s thoughts. She gets close enough to put the gun to his head while popping the jeep’s hood. “This should be easy for you. Solid ground beneath your feet and no bullets flying by your head . . . yet. No reason to go into the jeep since I’ve brought all of the tools and the manual out here. So if I see you move for the door, I’ll think you’re up to something.”

“No reason to threaten me. In fact, you can call me Gus,” the mechanic says, hoping to come off as friendly and helpful. The cold stare he receives makes him defensive, so he decides to test his captor’s mood. “Besides, you’re only a little girl with a gun. Take that weapon away and this would be a different story.”

“Maybe, but the challenge would be taking my gun away,” the blonde replies while returning to the crate. She glances at Lloyd who is sleeping in a nearby rocking chair and mumbling about wanting a massage. “Always remember that this little girl has killed more people than you’ve probably ever spoken to. My friend was the driver, which means most of the fatalities out there are notches on my belt. Now I can fix this on my own, but it’ll take too much time. So don’t think I’m helpless. I’m only in a hurry, so putting a bullet through your head only means I’ll be delayed and irritable.”

“Guess I shouldn’t push my luck then,” Gus whispers while lifting the hood. He whistles at the guts of the jeep, his eyes searching for the problem. “I can see a nitro line was severed and clogged by one bullet. Your friend was right that there’s one in the engine too. Hard to tell if it did any internal damage, but the pickup truck over there can be used for spare parts. I assume I’m allowed to take the engine apart to get at any internal issues.”

Cassidy throws the man a bag of cookies and a bottle of water, both of which fall to the hay-covered ground. “Do what you have to. Think of those as a payment for your honesty. I’m still deciding on what to do with you after we’re done here. Sounds like a storm is coming, which means outside is no place for an unprotected body to be wandering around.”

“This thing is a breeze compared to what’s on the Wyoming border.”

“And what is that?”

“Really big storm that will probably last another day.”

“So that’s where the big guy from Quiche’s maps went.”

Sensing that the statement was more to herself than him, Gus sets to work on repairing the engine. With no replacement for the line, he convinces Cassidy to help him remove the booster system that has become nothing more than dead weight. She insists on keeping the parts inside of the jeep, but refuses to explain her reasons before getting herself something to drink from a nearby cooler. Always aware of the blonde watching him, the mechanic carefully takes the engine apart and places every piece on a sheet-covered table. Not wanting to make even a small mistake, Gus puts the parts in a pattern and uses a crayon to mark them in the order they were removed. He can tell that Cassidy is memorizing what he is doing in case she needs to repeat the process later. It gives him a feeling of being respected even though he knows his pseudo-student is more than willing to splatter his brains across the barn.

Checking the manual a few times to be sure of what he is doing, the mechanic eventually removes enough to get at the bullet that has been rattling around the pistons. Gus can see several dents on the fan and a hole in the belt, the latter of which he is relieved to find a spare of in Cassidy’s tool kit. Grabbing a pair of pliers and a level, he straightens the fan blades to the best of his ability before putting the part back. A final check of the engine shows that there is a small nick on the fuel line, so he wraps some tape around the hole. Unable to find any other damage, Gus rebuilds the engine and gestures for Cassidy to give it a try. His eyes remain on the fuel line as the jeep revs to life and sounds as close to new as he can make it.

“I don’t have a replacement for the fuel line or the fan, so I could only do patch jobs on those parts,” the mechanic states with pride. He jumps at the mumbled snoring that comes from Lloyd, the serial killer having curled into a ball on the chair. “Once you reach Wyoming, you can find a place to get a real repair. I wouldn’t be surprised if they take the remains of the nitro system off your hands. Those things are rare even in a damaged condition.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cassidy replies while she gathers the tools. As a test, she turns her back on Gus and watches his reflection in the window. “The wind seems to be dying down, but my friend and I need sleep. So we’ll be staying here for a few hours. Not sure what I should do about you.”

“Letting me go is a nice idea,” the mechanic admits as he picks up a wrench. With his work done, he is very aware that they are back to being enemies. “Then again, I’m very far out of my territory. Might not make it back, especially at night. A couple of big cats wander around this state. Mostly lions and leopards with the occasional cheetah. Thankfully, all the tigers wandered away. The cats love hiding in the old cornfields and pouncing on prey.”

“I’m sure they do.”

“Means I’m a dead man no matter what.”

“Unless you join another gang and pay for your membership by giving them us.”

“You know about that trick, huh?”

“Yup.”

Gus only makes it one step before Cassidy turns around and shoots him in the head, the gunshot causing Lloyd to wake up. Barely aware of what has happened, the serial killer smacks his lips and wanders over to the jeep for a canteen. Leaning against the door, he stares at the dead mechanic and chuckles at how the whole thing ended. Handing an apple to his companion, they both relax now that they no longer have the gang member to worry about.

“You know he might not have turned on us,” Lloyd points out as he offers Cassidy the canteen. She refuses and grabs a bottle of whiskey from the backseat, the liquor burning her throat as she gulps it down. “Not to mention his limp would have slowed him down. His shoulder was messed up too. We’d probably be long gone by the time he found a gang, much less set them on our trail. That’s if he didn’t get eaten by a lion, killed by a storm, or blown up by a mine.”

“Yup,” Cassidy states with a yawn. Not wanting the gear to go to waste, she takes Gus’s tool belt and tosses it into the jeep. “If it was any other state, I’d let him go and take my chances. Not here though.”

“Rationalize it all you want, kid, but that was cold,” the serial killer says before changing into a shirt with a glow-in-the-dark ghost on the front. He helps pack everything up and reorganize their supplies, which includes reloading all the guns. “I’m starting to realize something about you. You say you’re broken and I never had a reason to argue that point, but you can be downright predatory at times. Not in the same way as me because I kill mostly for fun and pleasure. You do it for survival without a second thought. In some ways, that’s more animalistic than what I do and the media loved calling me a beast when I was on the loose. The thing that really surprises me is that you can turn the predator on and off so easily. It does bring up the question of what happens when your switch breaks.”

“Shut the fuck up, Lloyd,” Cassidy snaps, her voice dripping anger instead of her usual frustration.

The serial killer shrugs and goes to hide Gus’s body in the hayloft, an old habit that he feels will buy them some extra time. It takes him a while to stash the corpse and scatter a bag of old chicken feed over the pools of blood on the ground. By the time Lloyd gets back to the jeep, Cassidy is asleep in the passenger seat with a shotgun across her lap and aimed out the hole in her door. Not wanting to wake the scowling woman, he checks the local map and does his best to read the compass. Once he is sure of the direction they should be heading, Lloyd starts the car and drives into the darkness to the sound of a distant lion roaring.

*****

The screaming gangs coming out of the north, south, and east are only the second biggest threat to the jeep. Instead of watching the gaudy vehicles, the two travelers stare at the giant twister that looms in the distant. There is an eerie calmness to the sky above their heads, as if every cloud has been sucked into the churning whirlwind. Off to their right, the pair can see the remaining foundation of a building that they assume has been destroyed by the storm. On the other hand, the remains could be leftovers from another twister or even been taken down by one of the gangs. Focusing on the very real problem in front of them, they find it difficult to tell how fast and which direction the column is heading. Checking the map and Quiche’s notes, Cassidy is fairly certain that the storm is only a few miles from the Wyoming border, which puts it directly in their path. Tapping at a few of the scanner screens, she can see they are getting some interference and worries that a landmine will take them out long before they can challenge the twister.

“Maybe we should have asked Bart for wings or parachutes,” Lloyd says while squinting into the distance. The sight of several tractor trailers, some of which are armed with flamethrowers, causes him to sigh in acceptance of another wild trip. “That thing is going to hurl us if we get too close. Doubt we can skirt the edge of it like we did with the minefield. Is that a windmill and some pigs in there?”

“We’re too far away to see anything,” Cassidy replies while getting ready the weapons ready for the fight. Preparing three of the machineguns, she bites her lower lip in anticipation and waits for their enemies to get within range. “Looks like the southern forces are the smallest. We’ll have a better chance of breaking through their lines than if we tackled the others. Then again, it looks like they’re mostly vans and semis. I don’t really know how to get us out of this. Been pushing myself too hard for too long.”