-Chapter 8 - The Guerillas' Veil-
The next day, after the two spent a night at Jack's Inn and ate breakfast at Heaven's Night, Rod and Michael set off down Nathan Avenue around 11:30 a.m.. From there, they would turn left at Sandford Street which would take them around the lake and lead them eventually into the resort area of the town, where they would stay at the motel there until they could set up an appointment with Dr. David Thomson at the Alchemilla Hospital. The trip seemed simple enough, but not to Rod because Michael suggested that they steal bicycles and ride all the way there that way. At first Rod didn't believe he was serious about this, but Michael said it was much safer than taking a vehicle due to the multiple bombing attempts made on him and his friends. Rod wasn't happy with the idea, but nevertheless saw his point. Armed with nothing, they rode off towards the bridges of Nathan Ave.
The mist was extremely thick for that time of day, and as much as it hindered Rod a little, Michael appeared to be doing just fine making his way through it. It would almost seem as he was enjoying it. This annoyed Rod. "Nice to see… someone's having fun!"
"Ahh," Michael sighed as his almost clownish hair flowed through the air. "I haven't had a good bike ride out in the country since my college days! I forgot how exhilarating this was!"
"This is… huff, ridicules!" panted Rod. "There'd be more dignity in walking all the way than this! We just left the Bowl-O-Rama with these things and all ready I'm out of juice!"
"You know, for a soldier you're rather inactive."
"I don't recall signing up to fight anybody! I wasn't givin' a choice to risk my ass! I would have been happier sitting at home!"
"Then why did you go?" asked Michael.
"Are you kidding?" asked Rod. "I'm no chicken! Besides, I had my poor mother to take care of. I figured if the army paid as much as it said it did, that would be a good way to help Ma out back at home."
"I'll admit, you're indeed a braver man than I."
"Besides, that was years ago! You don't see me doing jumping jacks and shit now, do you? I'm 36 for Pete's sake!"
"And that's all the more reason for you to stay in shape." Michael advised. "If you don't lead a healthy life, you might just wake up dead if you're not too careful."
The fog eventually cleared a little to reveal the first bridge on Nathan Ave.
"Ah, you see? We're already at the first bridge."
Rod was going to comment when he heard a loud clank followed by his body flying forward off the bike and landing face first on the pavement. Michael immediately stopped his bike and came running towards Rod. "Hey, you alright, man?"
"Aggh, that smarts." grunted Rod as he pulled his hand back from his forehead to reveal some blood from a small cut he had just received from the fall.
"Man, this fog is really something." Michael commented. "You can barely see anything to keep yourself from bumping into something in the road.
It was then that Rod's face grew pale with fright. "I don't think it was me who hit something…"
"Wha? What's the matter…?" It was then that Michael noticed what Rod had. A bayonet was wedged between the front tire and railing. Something had thrown it into there.
"Where not alone! Something's out here with us!" exclaimed Rod.
"Then let's hightail it out of here! C'mon!"
As Michael ran back to his bike, Rod pulled out the bayonet from the tire's wiring and gripped it firmly as he jumped back on his bike and began to peddle towards the bridge as fast as their bikes allowed them. And it wasn't long until another bayonet flew by Alessandro; barely missing him. Then another. Then one finally hooked into the front of Michael's bike, causing him to be thrown off as well.
Michael wasted no time in getting back up. "Ditch the bikes and run!"
Rod jumped off mid-ride and ran behind Michael towards the bridge. And just when things couldn't possibly get worse, from under the bridge crawled what looked like a slightly charred creature who stood upright with the upper part of what could be guessed as his head shaped like a Japanese kasa hat. And it wielded in it's claw a rusty machete. Rod and Michael backed away as it's hunched form staggered mechanically towards them as another leapt over the railing from the side of the rode. And then another fell from an unknown source above Rod and Michael, almost cleaving them before they jumped out of the way. Rod studied the way they looked and it almost reminded him of his enemy back in Nam.
"Rod, I don't think we'll be able to take these things on!" Michael exclaimed.
Gripping his bayonet blade, he eased ever so closer towards one of the grunting machete creatures in hopes of disarming it and taking his weapon. It wildly swung at Rod twice, missing both times. Upon missing the second time, Rod grabbed the arm which wielded the weapon and jammed his bayonet under the creature's flesh-hat. It released it's weapon and fell, though not completely dead yet. As blood spurted from it's wound, Rod picked up the machete and with one swing, decapitated it.
Before Rod could shout at Michael that he would try to get him one as well, another machete creature was already closing in and Rod had barely dodged it's swing. Rod fell backwards, but managed to swing his machete and slice the creatures arm off. He then grabed it and threw it alongside the road towards the on looking Michael. "Take it and run for it!"
Michael picked up the weapon, and as he made an attempt to run passed the other creatures whom had just appeared, Rod impaled the creature above him and shoved him off of his blade with his foot. Once off the ground, he followed after Michael passed the other demons. Thankfully they were spread out enough to avoid easily. And as they made it midway across the bridge, they could hear what was the sound of a speeding car not far behind. Even the bizarre kasa-heads stopped their attack and leapt over the bridge and back into the fog-shrouded waters. Now alone on the bridge, Rod and Michael watched as the bright headlights came into view as if it were two large glowing eyes. Then came the vehicle behind them, a black Chev Impala Sedan which had began to slow down a little. As it reached the bridge, it came to a stop. Rod and Michael stood for awhile, frozen. A part of them knew that inside the vehicle were the ones they had been running from, but before thinking, Rod called out to the driver across the bridge.
"Hey!" he yelled. "You still want me, you piece of shit!"
Silence.
"I stopped being afraid a long time ago! None of you scare me anymore!"
"Rod, stop screaming!" said Michael.
Rod wasn't listening. "What do you say you get your undead asses out of the car and we settle this here and now?"
It was then that all the doors opened on the vehicle, and what Rod watched step out from them was something he had been unprepared to see. Now lined up in front of the bridge, were now four masked men that all resembled the supposed one he had been evading. Rod wasn't aware that there was more. But Rod didn't care, he continued his string of swearing at the men across from him regardless of Michael's protests to leave. The men stood silently, until one of them pulled out what looked like a small black box from it's coat. The masked man then pulled out what looked like an antenna on it. He then held it to the side so both Rod and Michael could get a good look at it. It was a detonation device. Rod's blood turned into ice.
"Shit! They have this bridge rigged!" screamed Michael as he turned to run away. "Get off of it!"
Rod turned to run also. But before they could make it to the edge, one of the machete creatures reappeared from over the side and slashed Michael in the back, sending a scream of pain out of him. Rod stopped and turned around to try and help the scientist. But before Rod could make it to him, the masked man pushed the button on the detonation device. The blasts of several C4's lined across the middle half of the bridge was so strong that it flew Rod off the damaged bridge and into the lake waters. Falling… he had done this before…
Barely conscious after a great fall, Rod picked himself off the jungle floor. He drunkenly stumbled around the bodies, clutching his head. He began to feel sick again like before. The rush he got from killing, the energy, all left him. He felt as if he had been dreaming the whole nightmare. He looked at the bodies again, this time without the rage he had felt earlier. They were… his comrades! Feeling sick, Rod fell to his knees and began to vomit at the thought that he might have killed his own men. He then heard his commanding officer's voice from behind.
"Get up."
Rod turned and slowly rose to his feet. He stared at the man known as Sergeant Strokie. Something was wrong with him, too. "…Sarge?"
Strokie held his gun to the side, not drawn yet. He gave Rod a furious, yet puzzled look. Knowing he was still in danger, Rod looked down at one of the mauled bodies and noticed a pistol still in the soldier's belt holster. Not taking his eyes off Strokie, Rod carefully kneeled down and took the weapon from the dead soldier. Strokie did nothing but continue to watch him. They stood there, never once exchanging words with one another. Each one waiting for the first move. In a flash, both drew, and fired…!
As Rod drifted back into consciousness among the ruble in the lake, his eyes darted around what was above him. He soon remembered the explosion. Both sides of the bridge had folded into the lake. On the northern side he noticed Michael's body laying right at the edge of the bridge. He wasn't quite sure if Michael was still alive after the blast. Though he watched as one of the masked men picked up Michael by the collar of his shirt and drag him away towards the car. As three of the men loaded him into the trunk, the fourth stood behind and watched Rod as he floated on the surface of the water. The masked man gestured towards him, as if to warn Rod that they would soon capture him as well. Or worse. The man, afterwards, returned to the vehicle waiting on the northern side of the bridge and drove off towards what Rod hoped was Alchemilla Hospital. He was so close to ending this nightmare, he had to try and save Michael.
Rod moved the aching muscles in his arms and swam towards the shore nearby. As he pulled himself up unto the rocks, he scan the area for something, anything for a weapon to fend off the demons. He found an iron bar blown off from the bridge laying next to him. Grabbing it, he pushed himself up off the rocks and used it as a walking crutch until his legs worked out their soreness. Rod was now officially sick of the lies and the bullshit that these men in black had been force feeding him and his dead friends. If it was a war they wanted, it would be a war they would get! Rod treaded towards the business district of Silent Hill, and if anything got in his way this time, then Rod vowed he would show whatever hellish creature the true fury of Rod's Ladder!
