21A Chapter by CharlyeMonroeAutomatic gunfire ripped into the side of a taxi flanking your car.
Automatic gunfire ripped into the side of a taxi flanking your car. Welcome home. Your cars bulletproof paneling pinging from first contact. You couldn’t see the shooter, mother and sisters in the car; you scooted in just in time to avoid the bullet. In broad daylight, they weren’t playing around, your mother slamming on the gas pedal pushing a wounded taxi out of the way. You caught a gunmetal van pulling off, windows blacked out through the windshield. They sped off before your ride could fully recover. The terminal empty, a few bodies lay sprawled on the concrete once the shooting started. You noticed a couple faces from your flight bleeding out on the ground, the fight response triggered, you could feel lightening in your touch, ice on your face as you gave the backseat a once over, no one hit. A blue streak jetting around the corner stopped at the side of your car. It was Jane, Ren riding shotgun, you couldn’t see into the back seat but you knew where there were two the third would be present.
“M***********s followed us. I’m sorry Mrs. Ashby.” Ren called across to your mom through the passenger window “Boy troubles?” Melody “Some people just can’t take a hint.” Kaite “Take my bags, if I’m not home tonight, I’ll be home eventually,” you opened the back door. “Be safe honey.” You jumped in the backseat, Kaite loading an extended clip on an automatic rifle. “Sorry about that Barty. Hang on.” The tires screeching as Jane gave chase onto the highway. “How was the flight?” Ren had binoculars glued to her face trying to pick out the fleeing van while Jane maneuvered in and out of traffic. “F**k ,why are there so many vans on the road today.” Kaite “Shell game.” Jane “It was really nice actually, I hadn’t been on a plane in a while.” “You can still shoot right?” Kaite handed you an AK‐47 “That’s the one right there Jane, keep this m**********r steady.” You passed through a rolling barricade coming up along side the coach. Stretching from the shoulder of the highway, the empty sands you remembered. It was good to be back. Ren was already rolling down her window, sawed off double barrel out the hatch and bang. She let go full metal slugs into the engine; loading another volley she let two more fly into the front tires. The van swerving down the embankment and out into the flats, you let fly into the back as the driver made for the final stand. Jane swung onto the shoulder and stopped as the van halted its death throws. Ren holstered the shotgun, taking an assault rifle from between her feet and opened fire onto the exposed passenger side. Nothing stirred. Ren was moving full tilt towards the stopped vehicle, shot gun ready, you kept pace a few steps to the right. She blew off the lock to the passenger door, body leaking, sub machine gun in lap, the driver wheezing blood pooling in his seat, he was in shock, body shivering. You popped the rear doors. They were strapped in, you caught them changing, your attack putting holes in lungs and faces, the inside of the van bloodied, you unloaded canvass duffle bags from the rear. Jane came to your side, going over the bodies for anything worthwhile. “No ID’s” Jane “You know they’re Hunters. Check the handguns.” Ren “Yup, 10 points.” Jane “I can spot those m***********s from a mile away. You would have thought he would have learned by now, we don’t f**k around on company time.” Ren “So how does it feel to be back?” Jane “About the same. Hunters, like Five Hunts?” “Yup.” Jane “Burn em.” Ren. Jane lit a Molotov and tossed it on the struggling driver. The three of you hauling the bags back to waiting Kaite. “I like your hair.” Half of Ren’s head was shaved to the scalp with locks hanging down from just below her ears. She was sporting a new tattoo too, a combination lock blazoned on the side of her head. “You’re looking healthy, you know, like fit.” Ren gave you a little hug “Well I have been in training so it makes sense. I don’t know, I feel a little, gaunt.” “No, you look great, Barty,” Ren “Aw thanks,” Dusty blood on your hands, Kaite sat outside the car, black cut offs with a shredded oversized tee shirt playing poncho over her shoulders, rifle holding to her side, black sunglasses, and dangling earrings bouncing light off the side of her face. She popped the trunk walking around the side of the car to meet the three of you. The trunk laden with small arms and ammunition, you tossed the bags on top of the pile. “You want to drive?” Jane “Where are we going?” “Back to your house.” Jane “Let’s ride.” Jane tossed you the keys. Everyone loaded in and you took back to the highway. Traffic unnerved at the activity on the side of the road, a little bit of slow down, but nothing too significant, the ones who saw the start had passed, the laws slow to respond to things like this, their main job relegated to clean up and making the arrest when the final word came down, fact was they probably had their hand in it too, just a little better at playing poker. Whistle blowers were everywhere but spin had the headway and the players knew the game. You blended into the passing cars, pursuers maybe, but until they showed their hand you kept yours on the wheel. The radio on a low drone of something hip‐hop with a blues guitar rift over the top. There was silence on the ride; you caught their eyes on you from the rear view mirror. You pulled off of the expressway riding down onto the service roads, then onto side streets. Your hurry wasn’t towards home, itching for a fight you cruised for a bit of blood sport, no place particular on your mind; you waited till someone piped up. “You hungry Barty?” Ren “I could eat.” “We’re pretty close to campus.” Jane “F**k let’s go get some cafeteria food.” Kaite “I missed you guys,” you cut to the heart. “I didn’t want to be the first to say it but f**k, Barty, I love you, it’s been really stressful since you went away.” Kaite “Yeah, we’ve picked up the slack though.” Jane “F*****g vultures.” Ren “Sorry about letting Jenny,” Jane “Don’t even worry about that, haha, no harm, we’re sisters,” you laughed it off. “I didn’t think she was going to take it that far.” Jane “Yeah she’s f*****g strong, no doubt.” “It’s always the sleepers.” Ren “You heard about Dickie, right?” Jane “I heard his girlfriend is missing in action Jackson.” “He knows something, he’s not saying a f*****g word though.” Ren “Yeah figures.” “Tell that m**********r to accept our help.” Jane “Not gonna happen.” Kaite “If he needs it he’ll ask.” “A little joint effort would be nice.” Jane “He’s got the work to worry about.” “Yeah truth.” Kaite “F**k it, lets go get some Mexican.” Ren “Yeah I could go for some mole” Kaite “Oh word there’s a new place called The Pink Taco.” Jane “Bout time.” “I know right it’s really good too.” Jane “Heads, The Pink Taco?” “Heads.” Jane “The heads have it.” “Wait.” Kaite “What?” “We could get wurst?” Kaite “Wurst.” Ren “Yeah, wurst sounds good.” “I don’t know I’m not in the mood for meat missiles.” Jane “You cut it down the middle and put some mustard in there and its good eats Jane.” Kaite “Yeah but.” Jane “You’re right not really in the mood for wurst.” “No tacos either.” Kaite “Are ya’ll even hungry?” Ren “Not really.” “Yeah.” Jane “F**k, lets go see what Dickie is doing.” Kaite “Heads.” You “Heads.” Jane “Heads.” Ren “Heads have it,” you flipped a ‘u’ on the drive, no cars in the way you sped off in the opposite direction and back onto the highway. You’d never been to Zero Ridge, but you knew the way. You zoomed past the crater you left in the opposite side of the desert, fire trucks hosing down the burning remains of short work. Fewer cars in your direction. You let your window down to feel the breeze. The air was warm. It was a nice change from the mornings venture and not as hot as burning car, burning skin didn’t break through the smell of melting upholstery and gasoline. © 2013 CharlyeMonroe |
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Added on January 16, 2013 Last Updated on January 16, 2013 BF Chronicles: The Ballad of Barty Ashby
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By CharlyeMonroeAuthorCharlyeMonroeSan Francisco, CAAboutWriter/Artist/M**********r I'm from America, all of it. Monotheist, believer in the one true G-D Every poem is a love poem. more..Writing
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