I do not own anything of or related too MAD MAX. This is all owned by George Miller.
"Max, Max. There you are Max." Said a voice. Max looked up, he saw his wife and son. "Jessie, Sprog?" Max said with curiosity in his voice. Jessie fell to the ground and began to bleed, the same with sprog. Max walked closer and closer, but it never seemed like he was close enough. He began to run towards his family. "JESSIE!" he yelled. "Sprog!" He ran to their side. "Jessie?" he wept. Her cold hands in his hands, he grabbed his son. "Sprog!" he yelled. "NO!" He began to tear, then heard his wife's voice. "Max, stop hiding from us. You can't escape us, why are you?" She questioned. He looked at his wife's lifeless body. Her mouth moved but her eyes were cold, soulless and dead. "You failed us Max…" She began "Stop running from us!" Max woke up. 'It was just a dream.' he thought. He got out of the newly made Interceptor. Then walked over to the cliffside and cooked some lizard meat. "Nothin like some lizard." He said silently. He had defeated Immortin joe, and his sons. He had saved the wives. He had even liberated the Citadel. He kept running and helping people in need, he kept running. But from what? He ran from the phantoms that haunted his past, the family he couldn't save. He had never found the plains of silence, instead only what he could of the Interceptor. He sighed angrily. 'Those stupid war mongers, they wrecked my car! The car I have been with since the beginning of this crazed world.' He stopped thinking and listened. Max heard the faint rumble of diesel engines. Max grabbed his stuff and threw it in a bag, then flung it in the back of his car. Hopped in and rumbled off. Soon later there was a pack of Buzzards. There red eyes filled max with rage, 'these deranged psychos, spiked cars, hatches. They need to die.' He looked at the closest car, it was pulling closer and closer. The Buzzard inside didn't look any different from his ride. Spikes all over his armor. Max looked back in front of him, He shifted left. CRASH, right into the spiked demons side. The Buzzard wailed and crashed into a rock. Max heard a loud explosion from behind him. He faintly grinned, he didn't take pleasure in killing people. But these, these things weren't people anymore. He looked right and a biked Buzzard buzzed near him. He fired a shot at it, he did love his trusty sawed off shotgun. It began to swerve towards Max but it collapsed into the unforgiving sands. The final car began to gain on him. Its spikes rusty and sharp. A Buzzard stepped out of the cab and onto the roof. It wailed with outrage, the noises didn't even sound human. It lunged onto the back of the Interceptor, it pulled out its hatchet and began swinging at the windows. It kept missing them, max fired his last shot. It collapsed on the roof. Max grabbed the hatchet and chucked it behind him. It broke the front windshield of the Buzzard car, the thing didn't stop its pursuit. It began scraping the back of the Interceptor. It hoots and hollered. Max gritted his teeth, "Your psychotic scumbag!" he veered left and stopped. When the Buzzard drove by Max started again. He flew behind the thing and smashed into the back of it. It began to gain uncontrollable speed and sputtered in the sand. Its wheel tripped and it began to roll. When it came to a stop Max opened his door, then walked over to the car. It was a nice buggy, 'this would've been great prewar.' Max thought. Then he heard wailing, the Buzzard crawled from the flames, it got up and swung at max. He evaded and cracked it in the leg. It kneeled and he kicked it to the ground. The Buzzard went limp. He searched and found a few usable shot gun shells. The buggy's flames grew. Max kicked the fuel cans at the back of the buggy. "Got some guzzaline, eh." He said to the corpse. He took the gas and started walked back to his car. He carefully put the gas into the back of his car and revved the engine. Then took off.