CHAPTER 6

WAR OUTSIDE

THE WARD

The mercs around us wear getting prepared for the bloodbath ahead, while Tyrell was busy talking to us, that is, Mikey and I, about guns. Several different types of guns. He was making sure we all had the proper gear and proper training, even under the constraint time we had. The sound of the thunderous engines coming towards us was really psyching up the mercs, but Mikey was getting scared shitless. I wasn't any better, but Mikey definitely didn't seem cut out for this. He had to be snapped back into reality by Tyrell every now and again.

"Mikey!" he'd shout.

"W-What?" Mikey replied.

"Get your head in the game, kid! We'll die out here if any of you make mistakes!"

"Right, I-I'm sorry, I'll pay more attention this time."

"I hope so. Day dreaming out in the battlefield isn't the best thing to do. Could get you killed." Tyrell was unabashed about his choice of words, as he should be. What we were facing was something far larger than we would have expected this night. It's crazy to think that just a few hours ago, I was at a bar, drinking away my thoughts, drowning out the shit behind me. Now I'm here, a few hours later, tired, and afraid. I needed to hear the truth. There's no way to sugar coat what we were facing.

Tyrell took a good look at the small pistol Mikey was holding. "What is that you're holding?"

"Huh?" Mikey said, confused "W-Well, it's a pistol."

"I know that, dummy. I'm asking what's it called? Who made it, what's it's name?"

"I-I don't know, I just bought it for protection."

Tyrell groans in annoyance and snatches the pistol off of Mikey's hand. "Give me that! Sheesh…" as he examined the small pistol carefully, he asked "Ever shoot this thing before?"

"Yes, I have…"

"On anyone?"

"No, on bottles and um, practice dummies…"

"How good is your accuracy, would you say?"

"I'm pretty decent, I think…"

"Alright…" he puts the gun down next to the other, much larger pistols, and grabs one with a significantly larger barrel. "What you had was a Kahr K9. Real small, not that strong. It's good for scaring away the would-be mugger, I mean, any gun pointed at your average person can scare them away. However, we ain't dealing with no muggers. We're dealing with dangerous mother fuckers. That dinky little shit's not gonna penetrate through much." Tyrell hands Mikey the larger pistol "This is a Desert Eagle. Don't let the fact that it's a pistol fool you, it's mighty fine weapon. This will blow anyone's brains out."

"Isn't it a little too big for me?" worriedly asked Mikey.

"Sorry, Mikey. You'll have to deal with it. You ain't gonna be in the front lines, don't worry, this is just to protect you from any of those punks. But keep in mind, that has a powerful kick to it. Firmly grasp the gun with both of your hands, and get ready to fire when necessary. It's gonna sting, no doubt, but it's better than to get your throat cut open by the Devil's Hand. Or worse."

Mikey was shaking, but he seemed a bit better once Tyrell told him he won't be doing most of the fighting. Honestly, it kinda got me relieved too. I'm interested to learn more about Mikey, I really don't want him to die out here just yet.

"Rey!" Tyrell pointed his attention towards me.

"Yeah?"

"This is yours." He threw me pump-action shotgun. Let me say that again; he THREW ME A SHOTGUN.

"Wh-What the hell!?" I said, fumbling the damn thing.

"Hey, hey! Be careful with that" Tyrell said. Fuck him.

"Jesus-shit-Christ, what are you thinking!?"

"That gun," Tyrell was ignoring me "is suitable for you."

"How do you figure?" I asked the maniac.

"I just know. You look stronger than your brother, no offense Mikey."

Mikey just stood there, examining his gun.

"Anyway," Tyrell the lunatic continued "you seem like the kind of guy who can adapt, someone who can fight. Maybe you don't know it yet, but I know you can handle yourself if you're given the right gun. I think that's your gun, the Remington 870."

"I've never shot a shotgun before, Tyrell. Especially not a pump-action one."

"How about a rifle?"

"Yeah, I've shot one. And before you asked, I shot a Winchester Model 70. At deer. With a couple of buddies of mine."

"Well, it's not the same thing, but it'll have to do. Just remember to pull the pump all the way back or it'll jam. The shell will get stuck, and you won't be able to shoot anything at all."

"Can't I just pull the shell out?"

"Easier said than done. Trust me, when it jams, it jams badly."

"Sir!" yelled out one of the mercs "They're just up the hill! They'll be here within the minute!"

"Alright! Get the men ready! Is the C4 planted?"

"Yes sir!"

"Good, what about the snipers? Are they prepared?"

"Absolutely, sir!"

"Give me and the boys some time then. We'll be out there in a couple of seconds."

"Right!" The mercs scatter about like scarabs in the desert. Do scarabs travel in groups? At any rate, Tyrell came back to us.

"Alright boys, show me your stance. Quickly."

I didn't really know what the proper stance for a shotgun was, so I just assumed the position I would take if I were using a rifle. The end of the shotgun was right up against my collarbone, and I stood with my right leg back, and my left leg front. I aimed towards a corner of the building where nobody stood. I heard footsteps beside me and saw in the corner of my eye Mikey taking his stance. He held the deagle straight ahead with both hands, which were somewhat shaky. His knees were spread apart, and sort of had this weird "taking a dump" stance. Tyrell looked as us both.

"Rey, that's a great stance."

"Oh, uh, tha-"

"If you want your collarbone broken." he interrupted me. "Lean into your stronger leg, but not too much. Use that for balance. You don't want to be knocked back and havin' to readjust yourself every time you shoot. Press the mount firmly against your shoulder, and fire." I readjusted myself to what he said, and he smiled "Good."

Tyrell gazed at Mikey. "Straighten up, Mikey. Stand tall, and hard. Be like a rock. Ain't nobody gonna knock you down." Mikey straightens up his legs. "Try not to lock your elbows. I don't see many people doing it when they use a gun like that, but they do do that. I wouldn't recommend it though. Whatever makes you feel comfortable, I suppose."

Mikey stopped pointing towards the corner and looked down at the floor. "Tyrell…" he says "Will we be able to find Jordan?"

An awkward silence filled the empty room. Tyrell rubbed his chin, thinking deeply about what Mikey said. I looked at the both of them. I know Tyrell wants to help Mikey in any way possible, but at the same time I get the feeling he's not the kind of guy to just go out of his way for someone he's never met. Then, looking at Mikey, he seemed to be on the verge of tears. His eyes were clear, not watery at all, but there was just something about his facial expression that gave this impression that he'd been holding back his sorrows for a while now.

Tyrell was just about to say something, when suddenly the noise of hundred motors became more prevalent out of nowhere, and a voice filtered through a megaphone could be heard outside. Damn was he loud.

"COME ON OUT, KIDS!" the voice shrieked out manically "WE'RE HERE TO BRING YOU BACK TO PAPA!"

The voice was so loud and obnoxious that all three of us were covering our ears to save us from that vile noise.

"Shit!" exclaimed Tyrell "Damn! His voice is fucking awful!"

"I'M WAAAAITIIIINNGGG! LITTLE PIGS, LITTLE PIGS, COME ON OUT AND PLAAAAYAAAAAAYYY!"

Tyrell was huffing and puffing, and soon he blew a gasket and marched outside with a rocket launcher. "Boys!" he shouted "Get some armor on and stay put! If anyone gets in the building, shoot em to bits! Find cover!"

I wanted to yell back I'm coming with you! but my cowardice got the better of me. It was best Mikey and I stood behind three mercs that was in the building with us. Still, I was curious to see what kind of wretched monster that voice belonged to, so as soon as Tyrell left, I quickly ran upstairs.

"R-Rey!" whispered Mikey "Where are you going!?"

I looked back and saw Mikey's worried face looking back at me. He looked like a lost puppy. "I wanna see what's going on out there."

"Be careful…"

I nodded reassuringly at him, and continued upstairs. As I walked along the catwalk, I saw a broken window that had a clear view of it all. I peeked through and saw motorcycles as far as the eye could see, starting from outside the building, all the way up the hill. Besides some of the bikers were cars. Really fancy cars that were on fire, and had tons of bullet holes through them. A ton of bodies lied outside naked. Blood was gushing out of them, all of them were cut open in a different way. Some had their throats cut open, others had their intestines dragged out, and I thought I could see a few with knives coming out of their. These guys were savage.

"WELL, WELL!" the obnoxious man was speaking again. "IF IT AIN'T LIL' OL' GRAND PAPPY!" I was looking for where the source of the voice was coming from without trying to be seen. From the sound of his voice, it was hard to pinpoint where he was. It just sounded like he was everywhere.

"CAN'T YOU HEAR ME!? I'M LOOKING FOR THE LITTLE PIGS, NOT THE FUCKIN' OLD WORN OUT FATASS!" The bikers roared with laughter.

Suddenly, I spotted him. At least, I'm pretty sure it was him. It was this really weird looking fellow with a large red coat and black fur. He was a black man, standing tall amongst the other bikers. What he was standing on was the strangest thing. He stood atop a passenger seat to a bike, an oddly designed bike that was attached to another bike via three passenger seats that were linked together. The two bikes were being driven by big burly men with beards that could give Santa a run for his money, and next to the bikers, on the passenger seats, were these voluptuous women. Right between them, in the middle passenger seat, the one that linked them all, was the man of the hour himself. The two women were cuddling up against his legs as he stood up on his seat.

"I gotta ask you something!" shouted Tyrell as he stood beside his personal army of mercs. "Are you the ring leader? Are you the 'Prince of Lust'?"

"HEHEHE! IS THAT WHAT PEOPLE CALL ME NOWADAYS? AW SHIT, I'M FLATTERED! BUT TO BE HONEST, I ONLY JUST RECENTLY GOT THIS JOB!"

"What?!"

"YEEEEP!" The man paced back and forth between the two other carts "FACT IS, THE GUY BEFORE ME, BLESS HIS SOUL, RECENTLY PASSED AWAY! AIN'T THAT A BITCH?"

"And what's your name?"

"OOHHH, SHIIEET; OLD BOY WANT'S TO KNOW MY NAME!? WELL I AM FLATTERED, I AM HONORED, I AM DELIGHTED TO GIVE YOU MY NAME!" he stood between the two hookers "MY NAME, IS FREDDY RYDER, BUT THE WOMEN OF THE NIGHT CALL ME BY ANOTHER NAME, AND WHAT IS THAT NAME, LADIES!?

He puts the megaphone right next to the girl beside him. "Hard Ryder." she says lovingly.

"OOOHH, AGAIN, WHAT WAS THAT?!"

Now he puts the megaphone next to the other girl "Hard Ryydeerr"

"ONE MORE TIME BABY, WITH FEELING!"

"Haaarrrdd Ryyyyddeeerrr!" they both say simultaneously.

"YEAH YEAH YEAH YEEEAAHH! THAT'S ME! AND IT'S ALL ABOUT ME! I AM THE MOTHER FUCKER YO MAMA WARNED YOU ABOUT, THE DUDE WITH THE "BAD DRUGS", THE BOY WHO'S "NO GOOD". I'M THE FUCKER MAMA SAID YOU'LL BE SEEIN' IF YOU DON'T STUDY! I AM-"

"Shut up!" Tyrell yelled at Ryder, stopping him in the middle of his speech. Thank God. "I don't care who you are, you're gonna end up a corpse soon if you don't shut the hell up!"

Ryder looked at Tyrell, unamused by his interruption. "Now ain't you a bitch?" Ryder was talking without the megaphone. He places the megaphone right up against his fingers and snapped. The sound of his megaphone-powered snap echoed through the hills. Suddenly, the engines on every bike stopped and it was eerily quiet once again.

"I know you must think you're safe, Ryder, but you're not. We got guns aimed at you, ready to pull the trigger at any moment."

Ryder chuckles, and the gang soon chuckles with him. "Mother fucker, we've got a hundred more guns aimed at YOU."

Tyrell lifts up his rocket launcher and aims at Ryder. "And I've got a rocket aiming directly for you."

Ryder didn't even flinch, unlike his two nervous ladies. "Haha! You shoot that shit at me, and I'ma show you fireworks too!"

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Yes, it is so, ho." With a shit-eating grin, Ryder leans forward and says "Shoot me, papa."

There was a dry silence between the two factions. I kept wondering why Tyrell won't shoot, he's got him right on his sights. The snipers were probably also aiming right at him. Ryder was out in the open, anybody, myself included, could have taken a shot and ended his man's life. What was going on?

"Wha's the matter, boy?" Ryder said "Got alzheimers or somethin'? Don't remember how to shoot shit? Or maybe...oh my lord!" he said sarcastically "Maybe you NEED me, that's why you're keepin' me alive, huh?"

Tyrell didn't respond.

"Well, ol' boy, guess if ya ain't gonna give me my fireworks, I guess I'll have to provide my folks with what I brought, huh!?" He turns around and faces the army of bikers. He uses the megaphone once more "WHAT DO YA THINK, GENTLEMEN!? YA WANNA SEE A FUCKIN' FIREWORKS SHOW!?" The crowd cheered, and roared, hollering and raving. "LLLLLLLET EM HAVE IT, KIDDIES! WHOO!"

Out on the top of the hill was a glint that was coming faster and faster towards the building. I wasn't sure what it was until it was too late; the bastard shot three rockets directly towards the roof of this building, and they exploded, erupting the peace this building once had. The explosion was powerful and shook the entire building. A huge chunk of the facade came tumbling down, and the catwalk I stood on took some of the shockwave and was knocked down. I fell a few meters to the floor hard.

"REY!" shouted Mikey as he came closer to me. "Holy shit, Rey! Are you okay!?"

"No!" I groaned in pain "No not really! Shit...but I'm pretty sure everything's in tact…"

"WASN'T THAT JUST FUN!?" the familiar and obnoxious voice shouted.

I got up quickly and ran towards the nearest window. I could only see Tyrell, frozen there, in shock. There was a burning corpse right next to Tyrell and it was screaming in pain. Tyrell took out his giant magnum and shot the man in the head. He then takes out his radio from his pocket and talks to whoever was on the other end.

"Yes sir!" I heard one of the mercs say right behind me, as the merc started leaving the building.

"You wanna see fireworks, mother fucker!?" Tyrell shouted "Enjoy THIS!"

Then suddenly, the sound of an explosion followed by an earthquake that shook me and Mikey to the ground. A giant fireball covered the sky instantly. Screams of pain could be heard everywhere, all around the building. They were the screams of madmen, of soon to be corpses. They filled the air, the sound of wind was now replaced with these shrieks. The demons have risen from the pits of hell, the screams now sounded like laughter. The devil was mocking us. Demons bathe in flame, and so this was nothing to them.

Among the screams was slight chuckling from a familiar voice. "THAT'S GOOD…" Ryder said "That's real good…GET YOUR GUNS OUT BOYS, AND PICK UP YOUR LIMBS! WE'RE GONNA PARTY LIKE FUCKIN' PORN STAAARRRRSSS!"