Issue #112
He braced his arms against the steering wheel, pressed down on the accelerator and, as he looked up into the haze of the mid-afternoon sun, wondered if there was going to be enough time to make it back to the border. He had pushed it too far this time, attempting too deep of an incursion behind the lines, and now he was only going to make it back if everything from this point on went perfectly.
Somewhere behind him, he could make out the sound of concussive impacts. It could have been explosions from a skirmish nearby. It could have been one of the nearby facilities going into high production in order to meet the increasing needs of the military or it could have been one of the ships crashing from orbit. There was no way to know, and he wasn’t going to waste his attention turning around to see what could be going on. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good and that was more than he needed to know.
There was a burst of static as the radio came on and he started, slapping at the dashboard to cut it off. He didn’t need the extra distraction. It was only when the security sweeps started up that the electronics started acting up like that. This was the thought that he vainly attempted to banish as the car raced down the road. He couldn’t be caught on this side of the border after night-fall. He couldn’t be left behind. To fail to make it back could end in his own death.
The package was still in the backseat, not having moved since he had taken it from the labs before anyone had known he was there. This thing was the key to it all, the answer to the problems that had been plaguing them for so long. The tests that they would be able to run would put them into a position stronger than they had ever been since the war had broken out.
All that was required now was just a little bit of luck. Sometimes that was all that the fate of nations hung on.
Just a little bit of luck.
The car rocked to the side as he heard the sound of one of the tires blowing. Either there had been a stray gunshot or dumb luck, but he now found himself struggling to keep the car on the road as he listened to the punishment being inflicted on the tires as he continued driving. This would likely destroy the car but at this point, that no longer mattered. What good would the car be in good working order if he ended up dead, anyway?
He looked up into the air at the buzzing sound of low flying aircraft, and two hoverpods flew down from the low-hanging clouds. They immediately spotted his car and began zeroing in on his position, trying to match his course as he barreled towards the border. If they were able to get into firing position and get a lock on him, it would be all over. At this point, there was little point in trying to outrun them. He had to slow down and try to evade the ships, get out of their field of fire and hopefully, in the process, get that much closer to home. Even those ships wouldn’t dare to follow him back, over the border.
All he needed to do was get back to sanctuary and deliver the package to the resistance.
Bright spears of light lanced down from the sky and began etching paths of destruction into the ground around him. The car jerked to the side and he tightened his grip on the wheel, fighting to stay on the road. He could feel the plastic heating up underneath his fingers and looked up to see the roof of the car shimmering, like butter softening under the influence of direct heat.
From behind him, he heard the hushed tones of someone whispering frantically. He spun to look, pulling the wheel to the side as he did so and frantically returned his attention to the road to keep the car aimed true. When he had control, he slowly turned to look back but the back seat was, of course, empty.
Another explosion rocked the car from above as the ships narrowed in even closer. They had added the concussion explosives with the wider dispersion to accompany the simple energy beams and down deep, he knew that it was only a matter of time before one of the shots found its target. He wished there was something, anything he could do to even try and make a dramatic last stand but all he had was the car in which he drove.
He blinked as his head started to swim, and the world around him began to wobble, like a camera going out of focus. The sound of everything around him became distorted and muffled, as if he had a heavy blanket wrapped around his head and he slapped the side of his face to try and stay alert. Vaguely, he felt his head start to droop down and his eyes closed.
With a jerk, he pulled back up again and looked out at the road ahead of him. The sounds of the explosions had ceased but he knew that the ships would still be up there somewhere. Speed was all that mattered now.
Something caught his attention from the corner of his eye and he turned to see the empty bottle of Haldol just as it rolled off, to the side. Then he heard the voice behind him again. The package. He turned to look.
The kid couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old. His hands were tied and it was clear that someone had beaten him recently. It was hard to now not notice what looked like corresponding bruises and blood on his knuckles. The stranger looked like he had been crying, and he looked up at Damien with a look of undisguised terror as he spoke.
“Please … Just let me go.”
