BOOM

The SUV swerved as its windshield nearly caved in, accidentally slamming into one of its smaller cousins and sending it into the concrete barrier.

BOOM

A gunner in one of the patrol cars slumped over the door, his comrade quickly pulling him back into the relative safety of the car.

BOOM

Skeeter growled at the army of government-financed snakes that continued to assault his mobile fortress.

BOOM

Twilight took another tiny step back from her psychotic shotgun-toting friend, half-pitying the feds as they were forced down the narrow highway.

CLICK

“Shit.” the mechanic spat as he tossed his last gun off to the side. Twilight quietly sighed in relief as it joined its brothers, who had either run out of ammunition or…in the case of two shotguns…stopped working for unknown reasons.

“Hey Twi? Dumb question, but can ya’ll make weapons outta magic?”

She turned back to the aforementioned friend with a flat look, choosing to give him an equally flat response.

“No.”

“Alright, alright, jus’ askin’.” he replied, walking back to the front. “No need to git yer panties in a bunch.”

“My…what?”

He stopped mid-step and looked back at her, his new expression unreadable.

“‘Nother dumb question…do horses wear clothes where you come from?”

“Ponies…” she corrected. “…and not usually, no.”

“Not…usually? Like, what do you wear?”

“Dresses or suits, mostly on formal occasions.”

Skeeter snorted loudly as resumed his journey to the front, staggering slightly on the unstable floor.

“What’s so funny about that?” Twilight asked, confused and just a little irritated.

“Nothin’, nothin’…” he called back to her as he reached the front and raised a hand to tap the driver on the shoulder. Noticing the bloodied makeshift bandage on said shoulder, he lowered the hand and cleared his throat instead. “Ya’ll, uh…want me to take a look at that?”

The shorter man glanced briefly over at him before turning in the seat. “No, just…please take this beast back.”

“Too much for ya?” Skeeter asked as he took the wheel back.

“Way too much. At least I don’t have to worry about hitting people. The Outlaster’s been scaring them off, I think. ”

“Or maybe the feds’ve closed the freeway.”

“Maybe.” Allen replied as he straightened his jacket. He looked around for a moment until his eyes settled on his rifle case resting three seats back, and he hurried to undo the clasps. “So what was that about in the back?”

“Ponies wearing dresses.” the mechanic replied with a chuckle.

An eye-roll was his only reply. “Keep that kind of nonsense to yourself, will you? At least until we lose these clowns.”

“Yeah, yeah…hey, ya seen where Arnie went?”

He lifted the weapon up, preparing to secure its silencer, then stopped. After a moment’s thought, he tossed the metal cylinder back in the case and began adjusting the scope. “He’s on the roof.” he said finally.

“Thought so.” Skeeter replied.

Allen raised an eyebrow at his casual tone. “You’re not worried at all?”

“Yer kiddin’, right? Ah feel kinda sorry for whichever poor bastard got stuck up there with ‘im.” Skeeter replied with a grin, right before adopting an all-business expression. “So what now? Ya know we can’t bring these guys to Alamo.”

Once again, Allen found himself pushing away the dread that name tried to bring him. “I’m going to try to make a pileup. Should be easy now that we’re on the highway.”

“Might wanna hurry. It widens up ahead.”

“Got it.”

((((((*******))))))

The boarder swung wildly at his left side. He blocked it, then attempted to jab the smaller man in the gut, only to step back as his opponent spun away from the block and made to drive an elbow into his ribs.

Arnold, frustrated with how much ground he was being forced to give, changed tactics and charged at the agent, catching the lighter man by surprise as he hefted him onto his shoulder and turned to throw him off. The agent quickly elbowed his neck, forcing him to let go with a pained grunt.

As he recovered from his brief disorientation, he watched the other man slowly get back to his feet, an action made difficult by the unsteady nature of their arena.

“What’s wrong there, slick? No sea legs?” he taunted.

“Cram it you fucking hick.”

“Racist.”

A rifle sounded, and both men instinctively ducked. Arnold looked behind the bus, eyebrow raising as he saw sparks from a second shot fly off of a grill, the SUV it belonged to losing speed as it smoked violently.

What the hell’r ya doin’ man?

His opponent also watched the armored vehicle disappear behind its cousins, then turned back to him with a scowl. “Get out of my way.” he growled.

“Get off mah ride.” Arnold growled back.

The agent swung again instead, arm meeting the marine’s own, then brought a knee into his gut. He hunched over, the wind driven from his lungs, then hit the roof as he received an elbow to the back.

He lay there groaning for a moment as his opponent walked past, then quietly got back to his feet and snuck up behind. His grin widened as he raised a finger to tap him on the shoulder, fist raised off to the side.

“Jarhead lunatic.” the agent muttered.

Arnold frowned, instead grabbing the man around the midsection. He yelled in surprise as he was suddenly lifted up and over, landing hard on his back. He sat up and groaned, first from pain then from the realization that he was back where he started.

“Look buddy, ya’ll better cut the smack talk, ‘cause Ah really don’t appreciate it.”

((((((*******))))))

“Stay focused. Stay awake, stay focused. You fall asleep, you won’t wake up, and Jeff’s gonna need an escape route if things get too dicey.”

Carl gritted his teeth, his yet-untreated wounds still throbbing painfully and blood loss beginning to cloud his vision. A hundred meters away, his partner continued his main card fight with the burly marine, the latter clearly holding the advantage. In most cases, Jeff’s speed would have given him the fight. Said speed was useless in such an enclosed area, made more enclosed as his opponent continued to close the distance between them.

His comrades had, of course, attempted to end the fight for him. Unfortunately, not only was the distance too great to get a clear shot without possibly hitting him, but Ghost and the anomaly had made it abundantly clear what they would do to anyone who directly attacked their allies.

So Carl continued to drive, concentrating as hard as he could on the fight atop the modified school bus and not on his slowly-weakening body.

((((((*******))))))

“Dammit!” Allen swore loudly as his round got stuck in the van’s grill.

To his dismay, the feds had learned from what had happened on the interstate, and taken lengths to ensure that it didn’t happen again. Said lengths happened to be armored bumpers at the front which protected their wheels and axels, and Allen’s vision of a chase-ending pileup was quickly disintegrating. All he could do was keep them at a reasonable distance so they couldn’t target his friend on the roof.

“Still not getting through?” Twilight asked to his right.

“No, but right now it’s either this or kill them.”

“Let’s stick with this.”

“Yes, let’s.”

“Al!” Skeeter called. “We’re widening out!”

“Roger! Fuck…” he muttered in his frustration. As if keeping them at bay wasn’t hard enough…

He perked up as a thought occurred to him. “Hey.”

Twilight looked down at him. “Hm?”

“Could you use your telekinesis to fuck up their rides?”

“I’d need know exactly what to mess around with. Otherwise, I’d just be fumbling around in the dark.”

“Do you think you’d at least be able to remove those new bumpers?”

“From this distance? If only I were that good…”

“Fuck.” he repeated, taking a shot at one SUV off to the right and…to his pleasant surprise…decommissioning it instantly.

He slid the bolt back, watching the empty shell shoot out and fall to the floor, then looked up and raised an eyebrow.

“What are they…are they retreating?” Twilight asked, also noticing their enemy’s strange behavior.

Allen didn’t answer right away, instead watching as the patrol cars fell back behind the armored vans, then as the entire front line fell back an extra hundred meters.

“No…hold on.” he finally said. taking his radio off of his belt. “Come up here for a sec.”

“What about…?” she began, looking back at their adversaries.

“They’re not going to bother us.” he replied with confidence.

Twilight stared after him uncertainly, but followed regardless.

“What’s goin’ on?” Skeeter asked as they arrived at the front.

“Someone’s trying to call me.” Allen said as he turned the radio back on. “What do you want, Frost?”

Both Skeeter and Twilight turned sharply toward him at the mention of his presumed-to-be-dead nemesis.

“I thought I made that perfectly clear the last time we spoke.” the liquid voice on the other end replied.

((((((*******))))))

Jeff ducked under the marine’s hook, then stepped back to avoid the kick that followed. He then responded with a kick of his own, making the man bend over holding his gut, and followed up with an uppercut…only for the marine to catch said uppercut, twist his arm behind his back, and shove him farther towards the back of the bus.

He was faster than the marine, but the marine had strength born of several years’ worth of service overseas. He was not only tanking everything he had to throw at him, but returning it to him with equal if not greater force. With very little room to maneuver and the marine giving him little time to recover each time he pushed him back, Jeff found himself quickly losing ground.

Of course, if I’d been quicker on the draw when I still had a gun…

“Gittin’ tired, kiddo?” his opponent jeered.

“I’m definitely getting tired of something.” he hissed.

“Me too. Ah’m gittin’ tired o’ starchies comin’ after my family and house guest.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry sir.” Jeff replied with the sweetest venom he could manage. “Tell you what: I’ll leave you alone if you bring Captain Simmons and all the rest of my men that you’ve killed back from the dead and HAND OVER THE GOD DAMN ANOMALY!!”

“Look man, just-wait…what? What about Simmons?”

“You. Killed. Simmons.”

“Ah didn’t kill ‘im! What the hell ya’ll accusing’ me for!?”

“Not you! GHOST!”

“Al-Ghost didn’t kill ‘im either!”

“Oh, bullshit.”

“No shit! Why would he!? Simmons is the reason we was able to rescue Twilight a few days ago!”

Jeff was silent for several seconds as he ran that sentence through his mind a few times. In the end he couldn’t reply with anything other than “What?”

((((((*******))))))

“Pardon us one second.” Skeeter politely told Frost, having snatched the radio from Allen not a second prior.

“How!? HOW!?” Twilight loudly asked the heavens as she paced up and down the aisle. “THIS MAKES NO SENSE!!”

“Al, Ah read the paper the day after it happened. Two knives in his chest and bullet to the brain. Ya’ll didn’t just kill ‘im…ya’ll executed ‘im.”

“How!?” Twilight continued, now sitting down behind Skeeter.

Allen snatched the radio back and looked pointedly at both of them, waiting for them to fall silent before pushing the button on the radio again. “Yes, and I haven’t forgotten your terms. You, on the other hand, seem to have forgotten my response.”

“No, I remember it quite clearly, actually.”

“Then, I will ask you one more time: What do you want?”

“To give you one last chance to surrender.”

((((((*******))))))

“Simmons told us which route ya’ll were takin’ outta Vegas so that we could cutcha off.” the marine elaborated.

“That’s bullshit. Ghost works with a hacker who managed to find our location. That’s how he knew where we were going.”

“Ah’ll spare ya the details, but the hacker wouldn’t help us. We was convinced she was a goner until yer boss called.”

“You’re lying. You have to be.”

“Willina’ bet yer life on that?”

Jeff opened his mouth to respond, then stopped. He thought about everything he actually knew, about the situation he and his comrades now found themselves in and about everything that had happened since they’d arrived in this god-forsaken city. He then shook his head, pushing away thoughts of his own ignorance that threatened the image of his leader.

“This makes no sense.” he said quietly, still shaking his head as he struggled with feelings of respect for his mentor and betrayal at his apparent deception. “Why would Simmons deliberately act against us?”

“Lemme put it this way…how much do you actually know about Twilight?”

“Twilight?” he repeated in confusion. “The anomaly? The terrorist?”

“The bookworm.”

Jeff forced a laugh. “Really, now?”

“You callin’ ‘er a terrorist just proves how ignorant ya’ll actually are. Ya noticed how she ain’t directly attacked ya yet?”

“I certainly noticed the armors she tossed at us.”

“That’s whatcha git fer tryin’ to turn her boyfriend into a street slushy.”

Jeff shook his head as he straightened up, cracking his neck. “Why the hell should I believe anything you have to say?”

“Fine. Don’t.” the marine said with a dismissive wave of his hands. “Ah’m the sure the intel yer new boss gave ya ’bout her is much more reliable.”

Jeff glared at the other man.

The other man simply smiled.

“She can’t be innocent.” he said finally.

“There’s kids in Vegas done worse things than her.”

Jeff shook his head and looked back the way they’d come, noticing with a start that his troops were even farther behind then before . He immediately slipped his radio off the loop on his vest and changed the channel. “Carl, what’s going on? Why’s everybody falling back?”

“Remus gave the fallback order.” the wheelman answered breathlessly. “Said something about a failsafe. Some of the armors broke off, they might be moving to make a roadblock.”

“Failsafe?” he repeated in confusion. “What failsafe? Why didn’t he tell me?”

“He didn’t? Isn’t he supposed to?”

Jeff didn’t respond, instead letting the arm drop back to his side. His recent promotion meant he was privy to all parts of their attack strategy as well as any modifications, as he was one of the few tasked with making sure it was executed properly. It would be one thing if he wasn’t involved in the plan to begin with, but…

It’s almost like he doesn’t want me to know.

((((((*******))))))

“You don’t scare me, Frost.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Well, consider this for a moment: I spent several years amassing an empire that could not only sustain itself, but give me access to the equipment and resources needed to support an interdimensional campaign. I was nearly ready to launch said campaign when, suddenly, an amnesia-ridden ally of mine brought everything to the ground. I manage to scavenge most of what I need, with the exception of the equipment that would have made the campaign possible. Imagine my relief when I hear that someone with access to that equipment has recently transported herself here, then frustration when my now-former ally snatches her up and hides her.”

Allen looked over at Twilight, who glanced at him anxiously, then looked back down at the radio in his hand. “Your point?”

“We were friends once, Flynt…brothers even. But now you’ve become a liability. I have a mission to uphold, and since you continue to stand against me I will be forced to remove you from the equation.”

“Well friend, perhaps you’ve forgotten, but you’re troops can’t get close to us without being removed themselves. As for anything heavier, may I remind you that you need this chick alive?”

“Actually, I don’t.”

He looked up again in time to see Twilight’s face visibly lose color. “Relax, he’s bluffing.”

“Are you sure?” she replied.

“You see, the gate your friend used to travel here is something of a miracle.” Frost elaborated, cutting off his response. “Recently, I’ve gathered some strange readings coupled with an extremely erratic targeting pattern which have led me to conclude that it wasn’t made by the god that created the network, but rather by the Ethian ponies. Thus it isn’t bound by the same rules that the real gates are. Do you know what that means?”

Allen stared at the radio, panic beginning to grip him.

“I just need her corpse.”

((((((*******))))))

Simmons had found out what Remus was up to, and he’d been killed almost instantly to hide the truth. It had only been a matter of time before the rest of them found out as well, something the commander had obviously planned for by calling in truly loyal soldiers. Now, having failed to prevent their quarry from leaving the city, they no longer held any strategic value to him and now presented a problem.

They knew too much about the true purpose of the occupation, and now they had to be silenced.

Jeff nearly hit himself in the face with the radio as he went to contact his comrades. “Carl, get up here now! I need an extraction!”

“I’m on my way.” Carl replied.

He turned back to the marine. “You’re on your own here. I’ve already lost too many people, and I’m not putting more at risk for your sake.”

“Fine.” he replied, turning back to the hatch at the front. “Git gone n’ stay gone, starchy.”

Jeff watched him disappear down the hatch, then turned back to watch the damaged Jaguar draw closer, finally drawing level with the left side. He clipped the radio back onto its loop and sat on the edge, slid off, and landed on its roof with a heavy thud.

He squirmed back into the passenger seat and immediately picked up the radio again before his friend could ask any questions. “This is Lieutenant Jeffrey, addressing all members of the initial three units sent to Vegas, formerly under the command of Captain Simmons. Commander Remus has gone rogue, and has plans to terminate any agents with knowledge of his defection. Your orders are to split up, get as far away from Nevada as possible, and hide. I’ll contact D.C. and get them on this, but you are to maintain complete radio silence until this blows over. All lieutenants, confirm order received.”

There was a moment’s pause as the other lieutenants confirmed that their respective squads had understood the directions. “Oxley confirmed.”

“Brody confirmed.”

“Jones confirmed.”

“Cox confirmed.”

“Grizer confirmed.”

“Alright.” Jeff said, confident now that they’d all gotten the warning. “Stay safe everyone.”

With that done, he tossed the radio in the back seat and grabbed the med kit again. “You wanna switch and do this or do you just want me to do it?”

“Switch. You’re not using peroxide on me while I’m driving.”

((((((*******))))))

Twilight felt the blood drain from her face, the ability to breath suddenly deserting her.

“You’re a fucking animal, Frost.”

“If that’s what it takes to win. Goodbye Flynt.”

Allen clipped the radio back onto his belt just as Arnold dropped back down, reaching up and shutting the hatch after him.

“We might have a problem.” he said.

“No shit, really!?” Allen replied sarcastically, causing the marine to raise an eyebrow at him. He immediately took a deep breath and turned to him. “I’m sorry.”

“What’s been goin’ on while Ah was up there?” he asked, more surprised than hurt.

“Ya’ll remember Frost, right?” Skeeter asked from the front.

“Uh-huh…”

“Ya’ll remember Al killed him?”

“Killed ‘im twice ‘smore like it.”

“He ain’t dead no more, and he’s sendin’ somethin’ mean after us.”

“Shit. Ya’ll remember where I put the C4?”

“In the cage.”

Arnold followed Allen to the back, the former undoing the clasps on the ammo locker and the latter retaking his position at the back door, scanning the horizon for possible threats. Twilight got up and made her way back to her position by the door, scanning right alongside him. Behind them, a hatch opened as Arnold took a pair of binoculars up to the roof.

The highway had long since vanished, giving way to a sandy asphalt road. The air, now devoid of sound save for the massive engine at the front, seemed to stand absolutely still as it waited for the tension to break.

“What do think he’ll send at us?” Twilight asked.

“I don’t know.” Allen replied. “At this point, I thought we’d faced everything they had to throw at us. A tank maybe?”

“Oh please, no.”

“How does that shield of yours work, exactly?”

She looked down at him, fear changing to confusion. “That’s a strange question to be asking now of all times.”

“I just want to know how much punishment it can take before we run the risk of getting greased.”

“Well, basically it absorbs the kinetic energy of the projectile and transfuses it to my own reserves, leaving the projectile to fall to the ground.” she explained, then rolled her eyes at her own answer. “In other words-”

“So you could keep us safe all day then?”

She paused for a moment, then nodded. “Theoretically, if they kept shooting at us.”

“Then I think we’ll be fine.” he said confidently, then shifted in his crouched position. “Heads up, we’ve got SUVs.”

Twilight immediately threw her shield over the back, simultaneously scanning the road behind them and spotting a few black dots on the horizon.

“There’s only five.” Allen reported.

Twilight looked back down at him in confusion. “They can’t seriously hope to attack us with only five cars.”

“They aren’t.” he replied before turning towards the front. “Hey Skeeter! You got anything up ahead!?

“Nah, what about you!?”

“Five SUVs!”

“Seriously!?”

“Hey, Ah got somethin’!” Arnold called from above. “Ah think they got air support!”

“Chopper!? Bomber!? What!?”

“It ain’t movin’ fast enough to be a plane so…chopper Ah’m guessin’!”

“Twi, that shield is about to become our lifeline. Are you ready?”

“Ready. But…what’s a chopper?”

“Helicopter. This one’s heavily armored and probably equipped with heavy machine guns and homing rockets.”

“So…bad, then.”

“Yeah…bad.” he said with a nod. “Good thing you’re a magical genius, huh?”

“This isn’t at all what I studied for.” she replied flatly.

“I know. I know.”

They both turned as Arnold swore loudly and jumped back down the collapsible ladder.

“What’s wrong?” Allen asked.

“Man, it’s a goddamn Apache!”

“So?”

“So? So!? Them things was specifically designed for takin’ out tanks! What the hellr’ we ridin’ in Al!?”

“Relax. We’ve got Twi.”

“Can she stop ten thousand armor piercin’ rounds a second from tearin’ us all new sphincters?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so…okay.” he said, visibly relaxing even as he looked through a window at the rapidly approaching aircraft. His focus switched to the five ground vehicles slowly gaining on them. “Whaddya wanna do with them?”

“I’ll take care of them. Twilight, can you cover the roof, too?”

“Of course.”

“Great.” Allen said with a smile. “We’ve got this, people.”

The chopper was now charging towards them, its miniguns spinning threateningly. Below, gunmen with assault rifles emerged from the safety of the armored vehicles and opened fire, their rounds simply dropping when they hit the transparent pink barrier.

“Here we go!” he said.

Suddenly, all sound was replaced by a deafening roar. Allen’s shot missed the grill of the SUV and shattered the windshield instead as he cringed from the extreme report of the craft’s primary weapons. It stopped as quickly as it started, leaving the crew of the Outlaster deaf and disoriented.

“Damn, that was loud!” Arnold half-shouted to all of them.

“What!?” was the simultaneous reply.

“What!?” he replied.

Allen shook his head as he watched the helicopter through the front window. It kept going for a few seconds after it passed them before pivoting in the air to face them again.

“Twi! Cover the front!”

“Alright, but I have to drop the back then! I can’t hold both ends at once!”

“That’s alright, I can handle the back!” he said, pulling the bolt back and preparing for another shot at their pursuers. His crosshairs hovered over a tiny gap in the grill’s armor, then switched to the forearm of one of the gunmen. The man cringed visibly before ducking back inside, his firearm bouncing down the road.

He repeated the process for two more soldiers before the shield disappeared, the sudden barrage of gunfire forcing him to take cover on the side of the door. He checked to make sure everyone else was alright as he pulled the bolt back again and peeked around the corner, just in time to watch as an RPG was leveled at the back door.

“That’s not happening.” he muttered as he squeezed the trigger.

TINK

Allen’s eyes widened as his rifle, which hadn’t jammed once in the three years he’d had it, refused to fire. He quickly dropped it and drew the revolver, shooting the rocketeer directly in the chest. The man slumped over just as the rocket fired, the deadly ordinance soaring through air towards the pavement under the bus.

He pulled the hammer back, this time aiming for the rocket as he pulled the trigger…

…and watched the bullet glance weakly off the side.

Oh no.

Suddenly he was floating through the air, gently drifting towards the front before slamming into a seat and hitting the floor with two loud ‘oofs’. He looked around, his companions in similar states of distress.

Then fear hit him harder than a train.

They had no shield.

And a helicopter ready to tear them apart.

They were helpless.

“INCOMING!!” he yelled as he instinctively covered his head with his arms.

The roar came again, the ceiling and floor sparking brightly as the rounds tore through them. He felt himself scream as his side exploded in agony.

And then it was over.

He groaned as the ringing in his ears slowly abated, the sound of the now-struggling engine replacing it and closely accompanied by a strong smell of smoke as he tried to rise from the floor into a sitting position. The wound in his side chose that moment to make itself known, making him scream silently to himself and forcing him back down.

He lay there seething in pain for a second, then called out to his friends. “Who’s hurt?”

There was a groan from somewhere to his left that sounded like Twilight regaining consciousness. Arnold sat up in the seat above him, bearing a scratch on his shoulder and a bloody lower leg. “You’re alright?”

“Little beat up, but Ah’ll live. You?”

“I’m missing something, I think.” he said as he attempted to sit up again. “We need to get up, because they’re not stopping. Twi, are you okay?”

“I think so.” she replied. He succeeded in sitting up and was able to confirm that she was, somehow, mostly unharmed.

Passing it off as just another magic trick, he called out for the yet-unaccounted for member of their group. “Skeeter, you still alive up there?”

The mechanic didn’t respond as he continued driving.

“Skeeter!?” he called again, louder this time as he struggled to rise. Arnold scrambled off the seat and leaned over him, his face losing all color. Allen followed his gaze and felt his own heart stop, the puddle of blood under the driver’s seat paralyzing him.

“SKEETS!!” the marine screamed.

Skeeter remained silent as their getaway vehicle began to veer off course, tires screeching as they watched the road ahead rising to meet them.

“EVERYBODY GRAB SOMETHING!!” Allen screamed.

For the second time in his life, he was subjected to the feeling of the world trying to crush him as it rolled around the Outlaster, shattering the bullet-proof glass and making him forget which direction was up. He felt them hit something, and they suddenly stopped rolling and started spinning off the side of the road, slowly grinding to a halt on their left side as the engine finally died.

Dust hung in the air, clouding their vision.

All was silent, save for a man’s quiet sobbing and the sound of a helicopter just outside.

Author's Note

Welcome back everyone.
Be sure to hit that like button if you're enjoying, and leave a comment with your thoughts.
Peace.

P.S.-Fuck Microsoft in the ass with a toilet brush.