JSA: Atrocity
By Bruce Wayne
DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters portrayed in this story are copyright by DC Comics, an AOL/Time/Warner company. They are used without permission for entertainment without profit by the author.
An Elseworld's story: Stories, situation or events involving familiar characters in unfamiliar settings.
Chapter 12
Dark silhouettes above the horizon were drawing Rex Tyler's attention. His gaze kept alternating between the road and the sky. "Hey, Lee? Lee!"
Rex Tyler shot a glance to right. Lee was sound asleep. He took his right hand off the gearshift and slapped Lee across the left arm. "Lee. Dammit, Lee!"
"What, huh?"
Rex looked at him again. He was starting to wake up. With, Lee, Rex reflected, you could never be sure of anything, especially consciousness. "Lee, wake up, dammit!"
"What?"
"Lee, what the hell do those look like?"
"What?"
"Those," Rex insisted, freeing his right hand of the gear level again and thrusting his index finger skyward. "Those!"
"They look like Army helicopters, maybe. Don't see many of those big crane-fitted cargo whirlybirds. Those are the big ones. I read once they can lift twenty tons or more. I don't know what the smaller ones are."
Rex counted the praying-mantislike silhouettes, looming larger now. There were exactly four of them, flanked by four smaller helicopters. There were, he reasoned, exactly four trucks hauling VX nerve gas. Those big choppers could --
"Holy cow," Rex whispered, his voice barely audible.
The pilot car immediately in front of him exploded with holes and began to careen out of control. The occupants probably dead.
Rex wrenched the wheel hard left, into the oncoming lane. The trailer behind him fishtailed wildly as he recovered the wheel. He upshifted to pick up speed, downshifting when it did no good, doubleclutching and downshifting again. Rex double-clutched and upshifted. The engine throbbed maddeningly loud. The engine's roar was more like a loud purr now as the rig shot past the shot up car that was now burning.
Rex cut his wheel gently right, back into the righthand lane. The blazing automobile with two MPs inside was left behind. The smaller helicopters were closing fast. He wound the driver's-side window all the way down.
Above the whirring of the rotor blades a German-accented voice was speaking on a public-address system. "On the road, nerve gas convoy, surrender now and you will be spared!"
Rex sneered skyward.
"Hey, Mr Tyler!"
"Shut up, Lee," Rex shouted over the roar of the wind rushing past them. He focused his eyes on the road.
The helicopters were zigzagging at treetop level through the sky overhead. The occupants were visible from time to time. Machine-gun fire ripped into the road just ahead of them, as if trying to force them to stop. He saw U.S. Army uniforms. He didn't believe it was possible.
"Those are our guys up there!" Lee shouted.
"Oh, yeah?" Rex sneered. "Then what the hell are they shooting at us for? And with what we're carrying!" He didn't wait for an answer but built his rpm on the tach. In the side mirror he saw an MP was leaning out of the window of the second pilot car, firing an M-1 skyward. Then the man, the M-1 and the car were chopped to pieces but numerous large-caliber bullets.
The voice came from the air again. "This is your last warning. You must surrender now and no one will be harmed!"
"That no good son of a ...!" Rex shouted. He threw his arm out the window of the cab, made a fist, and then extended his middle finger at the smallest of the four attacking helicopters that was coming in for a close pass. The German-accented voice on the PA system said, "You, I will kill!"
Rex stomped down harder on the accelerator. He caught a glimpse of a yellow road sign showing an S-curve ahead. "Aw, great! Just what I don't need."
He started downshifting. The S-curve sign had been posted 35 mph. There was a roar of engine noise to his left, and he snapped his head to see what it was. The second of the trucks, the cab scorched and the relief driver hanging out the side window, was coming fast.
"Hey, what happened to Mark?" Lee shouted.
"He's dead, you idiot," Rex shouted back. The truck cab was weaving from right to left. The cab's right fender crunched the trailer that Rex was pulling.
"What?" It was Lee again. "Must be something wrong with Tom, too!"
The truck was coming faster now into the curve, and the cab was almost dead even with Rex as he looked out. He could see Tom, the driver, with one hand on the steering wheel, the other hand over his eyes.
"Lee, slide over when I jump out. I'm going to help Tom," Rex shouted. He moved his right hand to the stick, double-clutching and downshifting. The two cabs were even now as he glanced left. "Take her, Lee!"
Rex worked the door handle, stepping out onto the elevated running-board steps. His right hand still gripped the wheel. Then he felt Lee take it. He let go, glancing down. If he missed, the wheels of one of the trucks would get him.
He reached out his left arm. His right hand was anchored to the doorframe. His left hand groped for the right side mirror of the other truck. He was not close enough. "Lee," he shouted. "Get me closer, then pull away and slow her down when I jump!"
"You might get yourself killed, Mr Tyler!"
"No kidding!" Rex shouted back, extending his left arm as far as it would go. He felt his balance shift as Lee steered closer to the second cab. "Now or never," he coached himself. Letting go of the driver's-side door, he jumped.
He hadn't jumped far enough, he realized, as his left hand slipped. His right hand groped for the frame of the mirror as he felt himself being pulled away in the slipstream. Then his right fist closed on it, and the frame of the mirror sagged under his one hundred eighty pounds. His left hand reached out -- for anything except the vertical exhaust pipe that traveled up the side of the cab behind the doorframe. It would be too hot to touch, let alone hold.
He threw his body left and in toward the fuel tank. His booted feet dragged for an instant. A spare wheel was wired down just forward of the fifth-wheel connection. He groped for the spare wheel with his left hand. He let go of the broken mirror framework as his left found the rim of the wheel.
Struggling, he pulled himself across the fuel tank toward the driver's side. Heat from the engine blasted him as he fought to gain his footing. Then his feet found the framework leading to the fifth wheel, and his hands were on the cab roof.
He could see Tom now with the steering wheel still held in one hand. Tom was screaming, rubbing his eyes.
The windshield in front of the driver was shattered, blown inward.
Sweat poured off Rex as he reached his hand up across the cab roof to the air horn. He grabbed at it, tugging firmly. It held. He moved his right hand down from the air horn to the door handle. "Tom. slide over, I'm coming in!" Rex shouted. Tom still screamed.
Rex wrenched at the door handle. The door sprung open, and he swung out with it as he lost his footing. His body was suspended over the road. He looked down. Suddenly there was no road, just a sheer drop down the valley. His left arm was hooked through the window opening, while his right hand swatted at the top of the doorframe, trying to get a grip. Then he had it. With his left leg he kicked out at the body of the cab, trying to close the driver's door partially.
More gunfire came from overhead, strafing the highway around him. He glared upward, then kicked again. The door started to swing shut with the force of the slipstream.
His right hand grabbed the assist handle beside the doorframe, and he wrenched the door handle once more. The door flew back as he kicked it open. Tom had both hands over his eyes as he fell out the door screaming, "I wanna die!"
Rex hung there for an instant, shouting, "No, Tom, no!" But Tom had disappeared over the cliff.
The rig was zigzagging badly now as Rex threw himself inside. His left hand snaked out to find the wheel even before he was seated upright. He straightened himself, finding the pedals with his feet. Staring ahead, his jaw dropped -- he was into the S-curve.
Rex glanced at his right side mirror. It was darkened and soot stained, but he could see Lee's rig slowing. Then it was gone from view as Rex cut the wheel into the first turn. He started downshifting, building engine compression to slow himself, working the brakes. The air brakes hissed madly.
One of the helicopters, its machine gun firing from the open door on the left, was dipping toward him. He cut the wheel farther right, getting into the center of the highway. His speedometer still hovered near fifty. The trailer behind him whipped from side to side, crashing and dragging against the rocks on the right.
The gun in the chopper fired a burst across the hood. Rex ducked, wrenching the wheel involuntarily. But the rocks were coming up too fast. He tugged at the steering wheel -- it wasn't responding fast enough. He stomped his right foot on the brake pedal and threw himself down on the floor as he tried to remember a prayer.
TO BE CONTINUED ....
***
Come visit me and/or Chris Dee and the other fine writers at Gotham After
Dark Message Board at: http://pub101.ezboard.com/bgothampm
By Bruce Wayne
DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters portrayed in this story are copyright by DC Comics, an AOL/Time/Warner company. They are used without permission for entertainment without profit by the author.
An Elseworld's story: Stories, situation or events involving familiar characters in unfamiliar settings.
Chapter 12
Dark silhouettes above the horizon were drawing Rex Tyler's attention. His gaze kept alternating between the road and the sky. "Hey, Lee? Lee!"
Rex Tyler shot a glance to right. Lee was sound asleep. He took his right hand off the gearshift and slapped Lee across the left arm. "Lee. Dammit, Lee!"
"What, huh?"
Rex looked at him again. He was starting to wake up. With, Lee, Rex reflected, you could never be sure of anything, especially consciousness. "Lee, wake up, dammit!"
"What?"
"Lee, what the hell do those look like?"
"What?"
"Those," Rex insisted, freeing his right hand of the gear level again and thrusting his index finger skyward. "Those!"
"They look like Army helicopters, maybe. Don't see many of those big crane-fitted cargo whirlybirds. Those are the big ones. I read once they can lift twenty tons or more. I don't know what the smaller ones are."
Rex counted the praying-mantislike silhouettes, looming larger now. There were exactly four of them, flanked by four smaller helicopters. There were, he reasoned, exactly four trucks hauling VX nerve gas. Those big choppers could --
"Holy cow," Rex whispered, his voice barely audible.
The pilot car immediately in front of him exploded with holes and began to careen out of control. The occupants probably dead.
Rex wrenched the wheel hard left, into the oncoming lane. The trailer behind him fishtailed wildly as he recovered the wheel. He upshifted to pick up speed, downshifting when it did no good, doubleclutching and downshifting again. Rex double-clutched and upshifted. The engine throbbed maddeningly loud. The engine's roar was more like a loud purr now as the rig shot past the shot up car that was now burning.
Rex cut his wheel gently right, back into the righthand lane. The blazing automobile with two MPs inside was left behind. The smaller helicopters were closing fast. He wound the driver's-side window all the way down.
Above the whirring of the rotor blades a German-accented voice was speaking on a public-address system. "On the road, nerve gas convoy, surrender now and you will be spared!"
Rex sneered skyward.
"Hey, Mr Tyler!"
"Shut up, Lee," Rex shouted over the roar of the wind rushing past them. He focused his eyes on the road.
The helicopters were zigzagging at treetop level through the sky overhead. The occupants were visible from time to time. Machine-gun fire ripped into the road just ahead of them, as if trying to force them to stop. He saw U.S. Army uniforms. He didn't believe it was possible.
"Those are our guys up there!" Lee shouted.
"Oh, yeah?" Rex sneered. "Then what the hell are they shooting at us for? And with what we're carrying!" He didn't wait for an answer but built his rpm on the tach. In the side mirror he saw an MP was leaning out of the window of the second pilot car, firing an M-1 skyward. Then the man, the M-1 and the car were chopped to pieces but numerous large-caliber bullets.
The voice came from the air again. "This is your last warning. You must surrender now and no one will be harmed!"
"That no good son of a ...!" Rex shouted. He threw his arm out the window of the cab, made a fist, and then extended his middle finger at the smallest of the four attacking helicopters that was coming in for a close pass. The German-accented voice on the PA system said, "You, I will kill!"
Rex stomped down harder on the accelerator. He caught a glimpse of a yellow road sign showing an S-curve ahead. "Aw, great! Just what I don't need."
He started downshifting. The S-curve sign had been posted 35 mph. There was a roar of engine noise to his left, and he snapped his head to see what it was. The second of the trucks, the cab scorched and the relief driver hanging out the side window, was coming fast.
"Hey, what happened to Mark?" Lee shouted.
"He's dead, you idiot," Rex shouted back. The truck cab was weaving from right to left. The cab's right fender crunched the trailer that Rex was pulling.
"What?" It was Lee again. "Must be something wrong with Tom, too!"
The truck was coming faster now into the curve, and the cab was almost dead even with Rex as he looked out. He could see Tom, the driver, with one hand on the steering wheel, the other hand over his eyes.
"Lee, slide over when I jump out. I'm going to help Tom," Rex shouted. He moved his right hand to the stick, double-clutching and downshifting. The two cabs were even now as he glanced left. "Take her, Lee!"
Rex worked the door handle, stepping out onto the elevated running-board steps. His right hand still gripped the wheel. Then he felt Lee take it. He let go, glancing down. If he missed, the wheels of one of the trucks would get him.
He reached out his left arm. His right hand was anchored to the doorframe. His left hand groped for the right side mirror of the other truck. He was not close enough. "Lee," he shouted. "Get me closer, then pull away and slow her down when I jump!"
"You might get yourself killed, Mr Tyler!"
"No kidding!" Rex shouted back, extending his left arm as far as it would go. He felt his balance shift as Lee steered closer to the second cab. "Now or never," he coached himself. Letting go of the driver's-side door, he jumped.
He hadn't jumped far enough, he realized, as his left hand slipped. His right hand groped for the frame of the mirror as he felt himself being pulled away in the slipstream. Then his right fist closed on it, and the frame of the mirror sagged under his one hundred eighty pounds. His left hand reached out -- for anything except the vertical exhaust pipe that traveled up the side of the cab behind the doorframe. It would be too hot to touch, let alone hold.
He threw his body left and in toward the fuel tank. His booted feet dragged for an instant. A spare wheel was wired down just forward of the fifth-wheel connection. He groped for the spare wheel with his left hand. He let go of the broken mirror framework as his left found the rim of the wheel.
Struggling, he pulled himself across the fuel tank toward the driver's side. Heat from the engine blasted him as he fought to gain his footing. Then his feet found the framework leading to the fifth wheel, and his hands were on the cab roof.
He could see Tom now with the steering wheel still held in one hand. Tom was screaming, rubbing his eyes.
The windshield in front of the driver was shattered, blown inward.
Sweat poured off Rex as he reached his hand up across the cab roof to the air horn. He grabbed at it, tugging firmly. It held. He moved his right hand down from the air horn to the door handle. "Tom. slide over, I'm coming in!" Rex shouted. Tom still screamed.
Rex wrenched at the door handle. The door sprung open, and he swung out with it as he lost his footing. His body was suspended over the road. He looked down. Suddenly there was no road, just a sheer drop down the valley. His left arm was hooked through the window opening, while his right hand swatted at the top of the doorframe, trying to get a grip. Then he had it. With his left leg he kicked out at the body of the cab, trying to close the driver's door partially.
More gunfire came from overhead, strafing the highway around him. He glared upward, then kicked again. The door started to swing shut with the force of the slipstream.
His right hand grabbed the assist handle beside the doorframe, and he wrenched the door handle once more. The door flew back as he kicked it open. Tom had both hands over his eyes as he fell out the door screaming, "I wanna die!"
Rex hung there for an instant, shouting, "No, Tom, no!" But Tom had disappeared over the cliff.
The rig was zigzagging badly now as Rex threw himself inside. His left hand snaked out to find the wheel even before he was seated upright. He straightened himself, finding the pedals with his feet. Staring ahead, his jaw dropped -- he was into the S-curve.
Rex glanced at his right side mirror. It was darkened and soot stained, but he could see Lee's rig slowing. Then it was gone from view as Rex cut the wheel into the first turn. He started downshifting, building engine compression to slow himself, working the brakes. The air brakes hissed madly.
One of the helicopters, its machine gun firing from the open door on the left, was dipping toward him. He cut the wheel farther right, getting into the center of the highway. His speedometer still hovered near fifty. The trailer behind him whipped from side to side, crashing and dragging against the rocks on the right.
The gun in the chopper fired a burst across the hood. Rex ducked, wrenching the wheel involuntarily. But the rocks were coming up too fast. He tugged at the steering wheel -- it wasn't responding fast enough. He stomped his right foot on the brake pedal and threw himself down on the floor as he tried to remember a prayer.
TO BE CONTINUED ....
***
Come visit me and/or Chris Dee and the other fine writers at Gotham After
Dark Message Board at: http://pub101.ezboard.com/bgothampm