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Part four
[255D[20C[0;36mT[1mh[37me [0;36mR[1me[37mtarded
[A[33C[0;36mW[1ma[37mrrior [34m[[0;36mi[1mC[37mE[34m
[A[45C] [37mPresents:[0m
** The Music Quest: Part 4 **
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
* * * * *
Leon had a problem. He was currently chasing a rebel van down Bay Street.
His partners were left behind in a parking lot and to top it all off, the
only window immediately accessible for him to shoot out of while driving was
on his left. Leon Napoli was a right-handed shot.
The windshield was bulletproof so he was left with no other alternative
other than to take pot-shots at the escaping vehical as a southpaw.
Hopefully he'd get lucky and hit something vital.
* * * * *
The Headhunter was shooting again in bursts of three. It was obvious that
he wasn't a lefty. The shots were straying all over the place, hitting the
trunk door at times and completely missing at others. Ryan just sat
steadfast in his seat and counted the number of rounds going off.
Three sets of triples was ended by a pair of shots. He was empty again.
Ryan knocked the broken glass window out of its frame with the butt of
his gun and stuck the top part of his body, up to the chest, out the window.
Nikki's head slid awkwardly off his lap, but that couldn't be helped.
His right arm pivoted around his shoulder, settling at a comfortable
position pointing the Glock 17 at the car behind them.
Ryan's first shot shattered one of the headlights, the second took out
the turning signal and the third put a hole in the hood where it said
'Aurora Inc." The next three bounced off the bulletproof windshield, leaving
behind three black friction burns on the glass.
Ryan ducked back into the van. By his count, there were three more rounds
remaining in the clip. The Headhunter started to zigzag the car as much as
he could without spinning out of control.
Memory Lapse passed the two remaining Molotov cocktails back to Ryan
along the lighter. "Go for his left tire," he yelled. "If you get it, he'll
spin to the left and crash into one of the buildings. If that works, toss
these two at the wreck. Hopefully the car will blow."
Ryan took the last two cocktails and pressed them against the side of the
van with his hip. Then he stuck his head back out of the window and
stiffened his shooting arm.
He pointed the gun at the spinning black shape of the all-season radial.
The car wouldn't stay still. It was still zigzagging.
"Help me out, Marcus!" Ryan hollered over the droning roar of the two
pounding engines at work. "Hit him with everything you've got! I can't get
through his windshield AND his helmet!"
Memory Lapse took several quick glances back at the Gestapo car in the
side mirror (the back was blocked by boxes) and started to concentrate on
the reflection of the Headhunter who was enthusiastically turning the
steering wheel from side to side.
* * * * *
Marcus Ing was ALSO an ETHER Manipulative. Like Ryan, he too had
hemoglobin containing a boron core, occuring in 13% of the blood coursing
through his body. The difference was, unlike Ryan who hits the motor control
synapses, Memory Lapse hits the frontal lobe of the cerebral cortex where a
person's memories are stored. What gets wiped is completely random, but the
bigger the jolt, the more gets cleared and right now, the jolt that Marcus
was preparing was CONSIDERABLE.
* * * * *
Leon was getting scared now. He tossed his Glock onto the passenger seat
while turning the wheel from one side to another. One of the rebels was
pointing a weapon at him and since he left The Leaky Faucet and was flying
down the street, backup would be hard to get, though he tried anyway.
"This is car alpha-6. I'm heading north on Bay Street and am under fire!
Get me some fucking backup RIGHT NOW!" he screamed hysterically into his
helmet.
"We copy that," replied dispatch calmly. "We have you on the homing
monitors. Road blocks are being set up a few kliks to the north of you. Just
hang tight." The speaker went dead and Leon cursed the families of every
person on the planet under his breath.
Suddenly, he remembered the Ingram M10 that was strapped under the
dashboard. He grabbed the wheel with his left hand and felt around with his
right. It wasn't hard to find. He took a quick glimpse at it and was
relieved to see that it was already loaded with a thirty-two round clip.
Gripping the small, uzi-shaped machine gun in his hand, he turned the car
a bit to the left, in an effort to overtake the van. Suddenly, Leon
completely forgot his name and rank, who he was, what he was doing behind
the wheel of a car and also how to drive at all. The only thing left in his
memory was that he was chasing a rebel van and his mission to kill whoever
was on board.
In a fit of panic, he held the wheel straight and took his foot off the
floor pedal.
Suddenly he noticed a vaguely familiar man leaning out of the side window
pointing a gun at him. He fired three times at the lower part of the car.
Leon felt the left portion sink a little and he skidded across the snow
covered road, slamming him into a structure that he recalled to be named a
gas station.
The car plowed through one of the gas pumps, bounced off the little brick
building where the cashier's counter was located and then wiggled crazily to
a stop.
Leon hurriedly undid his seat belt, tossed the door open and, with gun in
hand, he toppled onto the snow on all fours and puked a delicious rainbow of
red, brown and green semi-digested slop all over the ground.
* * * * *
"Hang on!" Memory Lapse yelled. He slammed on the break and turned the
wheel frantically to the left. The van made a sweeping arc through the
street and stopped dead, facing the other direction. He slammed his foot
down on the gas. The tires spun in one spot for a second, got a grip on the
slushy road and the van started to accelerate.
"Sorry about that," Marcus said. "The Headhunters are bound to set up
road blocks up ahead. They always do when one of their guys gets in a chase.
The faster we turn the better."
"Everything's all right back here," Ryan replied. "I never tossed the
cocktails. We can sweep back around."
He shuffled on his knees along the floor over to the sliding passenger
door. Pulling his Zippo out of his pocket, he lit both Molotov cocktails.
The gas station came back into view.
* * * * *
Leon wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand. He staggered weakly
to his feet, loosely clutching the M10 in his right hand.
The rebel van screamed by. The side door opened and two burning shapes
were tossed out at him. Then the door slammed shut again.
The shattering of glass bottles gave way to a live carpet of flame
washing over the ground towards the wrecked car. Leon dashed out into the
street just as the van drove past.
He aimed as best he could and shot off the entire clip in the blink of an
eye (the M10 fires at a rate of about 1200 rounds per minute). Sparks
bounced off the escaping rebel vehical and flew in all directions. The van
didn't so much as slow down.
Behind him, the flames had reached the gasoline spilling out of the
toppled pump. He heard a hissing sound and turned around.
The explosion knocked Leon Napoli's broken and battered body across the
street where he landed in a crumpled heap.
* * * * *
Nikki Finn was lying in Ryan's lap, barely conscious.
She was about to say something when Ryan interrupted her. "Don't talk,"
he said. "You took a couple of rounds."
She coughed weakly. "Where?"
"One in the shoulder, and one in the side."
"I don't feel anything..."
"That's just shock."
She felt Ryan run a hand across her cheek, and was relieved.
"We'll take you to the infirmary at Altars. They can fix you up." Ryan's
voice cracked near the end of his sentence and Nikki started to cry.
She sniffed back a sob and said in a whispered mumble: "The music quest
is done?"
"It's done." His voice cracked again.
She nodded quietly. Nikki's vision shut down. Her world was overcome by
darkness.
Then, shortly after, the sounds that she heard were killed by a powerful
silence.
In the short time elapsed in the transition between a noiseless dark and
an unconscious nothing, Nikki Finn was afraid.X-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-X
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