Hi guys,
I wrote this story soon after I first saw the film, way back in 2011, but didn't have the nerve to post it. The other day I came across it on the dark depths of my hard drive and thought why the hell not, better late than never! I know it's pretty bad, but I reckon it's a little bit different to most of the things in this section of FanFiction. Although it is based on the events depicted in the movie, I made quite a lot of changes to fit in my new main character as I wanted to tell the same-ish story from a different angle rather than just repeat the events of the film. It's also not a romance as many of the other RTWM stories are (don't get me wrong, lots of them are awesome).
The major thing is, the character I added is male - I tried to make the plot seem like it revolves round him, so the story follows his actions (don't worry, there's still plenty of the other characters in there).
There is some bad language (mostly on this page) and violence in the later parts of the story. I felt some was necessary to illustrate my character's persona to the full.
Thanks so much for reading this, if you would take the time to read the rest or even write a review I would be amazingly grateful! I have some other stuff sitting on my computer so if this goes down well I might post that in the future.
Oh, and one more thing. I've tried to spruce up this story by creating a YouTube playlist, with a song for every chapter. I reckon it helps set the mood. The link to it can be found on my profile.
Cheers again,
-Bagel
- The Getaway -
The figure was running fast now. He pelted down the Las Vegas sidewalks, dodging small children, pets and dustbins alike. He threw occasional glances over his shoulder, searching for his pursuers. Sure enough, there they were.
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. Not far now.
He knew they were gaining on him and one more glance confirmed his fears. A dark grey Ford Galaxy reared up beside him, weaving through the morning traffic, and he didn't need another glance to tell him there was a 9mm suppressed Glock 17 on the other side of that blacked-out rear window.
Shit. Not gonna make it. Need a plan B.
Frantically the slight figure looked for a way off the sidewalk, a place he knew would soon become his graveyard unless he found an exit.
There! Plan B.
He darted down the narrow alleyway that had opened up on his left, heading away from the road.
Phew. Still in the game.
A loud screech reached his ears as the car carrying his pursuers attempted a handbrake turn in the busy Vegas streets. Unfortunately nobody had informed the driver that handbrake turns are notoriously difficult in busy roads, especially in a Ford Galaxy. As if to verify this fact, several more screeches cut the morning air followed by a sickening double thud.
Ouch, gotta hurt. Tally up another to 'lil ol me.
This sentiment was short lived however, as he slowed to a jog and reached the end of the alley he spotted two large men busting a gut down the sidewalk, coming straight for him.
Bloody hell, these guys don't give up easy.
He immediately resumed his sprint as the slightly less than dynamic duo rounded a corner and took up the chase. One of the men, who had the distinctly unclean aura of hired muscle, moved to cut him off. The other man, who just had a distinctly unclean aura, attempted to catch him up. Taking in all this without breaking his stride, he noticed that they were in a Taxi parking lot.
Perfect. I could use some wheels.
"TAXI!"
He made a beeline for the nearest cab, which was idling in the centre of the exit road, much to the apparent frustration of the vehicles behind. Upon reaching the taxi he scrabbled for the door handle and threw himself into the front seat. The driver, who held a wad of cash in his hand, turned to face him.
"Hell, another one!" The driver exclaimed. "Can I help you?"
"Drive. Just drive. Driving would be very helpful." Panted the sudden entrant.
"Just hold on ther…"
"Please? I have money!" He pleaded, as something that sounded suspiciously like a bullet pinged off the cab's bonnet and a nearby parking meter drunkenly keeled over.
"Ok fine, it's like that then." Muttered the driver, flooring the accelerator. The taxi leapt forward and the passenger side wing mirror splintered.
The driver muttered something about seven years bad luck and continued up the road at breakneck speed. After a seemingly indeterminate period, he pulled over.
"Ok, I think we lost 'em. Now would you mind telling me what that was all about?" asked the driver.
"Nothing much… I had a minor disagreement with those two gentlemen back there." Came the reply.
"Minor disagreement! They were taking pot-shots at you!"
"Oh, you noticed. Well… Slightly more than minor."
"Okay okay." Said the cabbie, raising his hands. "The less I know, the better. Now, I guess you wanna go somewhere?"
Checking the top mirror for signs of pursuit, the passenger noticed he was not alone in the cab with the driver – there were two other occupants, both teenagers and seemingly identical, although one was male and the other female.
"They were here first - I'll go wherever they're goin'." He answered.
"Fine. And where might that be?" Said the driver, turning to face the two residents of the rear seat.
Paying no further attention to the conversion, the inhabitant of the passenger seat open a zipper pocket in his leather jacket and took out a packet of sweets, Haribos to be exact.
Ahh, Haribo. No better way to unwind after a hard morning's chasing.
Noticing the driver had turned back and was putting the cab into gear, he offered him the packet. The driver gleefully accepted, stuffing in a fist and bringing out a handful before swallowing them whole.
"Thanks, bud. I'm Jack by the way." Said the driver, offering his hand and swerving to avoid a six-wheeler. "Mike." Said the passenger, shaking the driver's extended hand.
Mike turned to face the back seat. "Sorry for hijacking your cab back there, as you can see, I'm a bit of a trouble magnet!" He explained in a jovial fashion, hoping his weak attempt at humour would be enough to appease the cold stares he was sure were boring into the back of his skull.
"It is fine." Replied the girl simply, who was sitting behind the front passenger seat. The boy, seated behind the driver, didn't look up and continued studying the device he held carefully in both hands.
Hmm. Maybe he only stares when you're not watching.
Mike turned back to face the front without making further attempt at conversation. He knew when he wasn't wanted.
Thing is, if I get out here those guys will find me again and maybe I won't be so lucky next time.
He would just have to wait out the journey; maybe the heat would quieten down after sunset. He'd had enough of Sin City anyway and, by the looks of things, they were heading out into the desert.
Time passed - they were deep in the desert now, and the midday sun was beating down. Jack and Matt had made small talk for a while, punctuated by occasional Haribos, but had lapsed into silence a while back.
"Jack Bruno, the vehicles behind us are indicating a pattern of pursuit." A worried voice suddenly rang out from the back. Instinctively Mike turned to see out the back window. Sure enough, three black 4x4s were on their tail.
You can't be serious. Contemplated Mike. Not again. Mikey, it just ain't your day.
"There's no vehicles' following. Relax kid!" Jack replied nonchalantly, addressing the girl on the back seat.
"At your current rate of speed versus theirs, they will overtake our vehicle in less than one minute." She reiterated.
"I'm just gonna let them pass. Open road people, it's all yours!" Jack wound down the window and waved the 4x4s on." "See what'd I tell ya, nobody is following us - I'm king of these roa…" Jack was cut off by a cry of "Jack Bruno!" from the back seat and the whole world disintegrated into a melee of dust, squealing tyres and roaring engines.
You're in a life and death situation and yet you still use someone's full name to alert them. How weird is that! Thought Mike and instantly felt stupid for doing so. The mind picks up on odd things in moments of high stress.
Jack was wrenching the wheel from side to side and clashing his gears for all he was worth, muttering all the while.
"Who is Mr. Wolf, Jack Bruno?" A plaintive voice inquired from the back seat.
"How do you know that..." Came the reply, partially cut off by a 4x4 smashing into the side of the already breaking up taxi.
"ARGH!" Mike banged his head on the passenger door.
"Get down now!" Bellowed Jack and sent the cab spinning, taking out one of the pursuers.
"Jack Bruno, it would appear that we have not eluded all of them."
Mike chose that moment to awaken from the trance inflicted by dashing his brains on the door moments earlier.
"I got this." A black tube appeared in Mike's hand and he lobbed it out of the smashed window. There was a muffled thwack and one of the two remaining vehicles span off the road, out of control.
Stinger, mothafucka.
"Two down, one to go!" Called Mike cheerfully, reaching for another cylinder. His hand came back empty.
Damn, must have dropped it during that chase. Curse you, hired muscle.
"Stay down, stay down!" Jack yelled, trying to coax every last drop of power from the dying taxi.
For the second time today, Mike threw a glance over his shoulder to check for his pursuers. Except this time, he wasn't expecting what he saw. The boy, seated behind the driver, fell through his seat. Almost immediately, the lad appeared in the path of the oncoming 4x4, taking up a strong stance. Mike could hardly watch as the 4x4 charged towards the teen, showing no signs of slowing down. At last the car hit him. And it was the car that crumpled and flipped. The boy was apparently unharmed and the stricken 4x4 was rolling over and over down the road.
Mike was so stunned, he initially failed to register that the cab was now traveling backwards, towards the wreck. A steady stream of expletives directed at the taxi was coming from the driver's seat, so he suspected the same could not be said for Jack.
Considering the events of the past ten seconds, Mike was hardly surprised when the boy appeared back through the seat, leaving him sitting in exactly the same place he had been before. At that instant, the cab screeched to a halt.
"You guys okay?" Asked Jack. Mike realised the driver must've missed the entire falling-through-seat-and-turning-into-superman episode unfolding behind him.
The two teens on the back seat nodded slowly.
"Right. Stay here." Said Jack, steel in his voice. Purposefully, he pulled a tyre spanner from his glove compartment and stepped outside.
First things first. Time for another Haribo.
Mike dipped into his jacket pocket and fished out a red one.
My favourite. Now, time for some answers.
But before he could question the occupants of the back seat, the cabbie returned, slamming the door and thrusting the spanner back into the glove compartment. He started the engine (which mysteriously worked perfectly now) and drove off.
Jack was the first to break the silence. "How're you holding up back there?"
"We're fine." The girl replied.
"Listen… I'm sorry I dragged you into all of this." Said the driver.
"There's no need for you to apologize Jack Bruno. You're not always the one to blame. However, the urgency of our trip has not decreased." Explained the girl.
Oops. She thinks those 4x4s were after me.
"Look, don't worry, I'll get you to where you need to go. You've earned it." Replied Jack. He then addressed Mike. "I don't know where you plan on going, but nice work with the stinger. I trust that particular lump 'o hardware didn't come from your disagreement earlier?"
Matt chuckled. "I've had plenty 'o disagreements."