Chapter 3: Cross Country Madness
"Gotta keep going," Yeung gasped. He made his way down the superhighway running through the 32nd district of West City. Three hours prior, Yeung had brutally executed a man holding up the West City Sports and Outdoors complex. In doing so, he had received the praise of the West City PD in addition to a crap load of free merchandise. Fein had felt a little intimidated by the idea of traveling cross-country by foot so he elected to stay back. Yeung packed all his camping supplies and after donning his power chute, was on his way to the Northern Wastelands. Yeung was just now beginning to see that maybe he had bitten off more than he could chew by trying to go on foot.
'Okay, if I keep going straight for two more miles there should be a turnoff that will take me out of the city. Hoo boy! Grabbing this power chute proved to be a good decision on my part. By the time I get to the Cell Games, my endurance will be twice what it is now. These things really wear a fellow out.'
"Stupid Fein!" said Yeung to himself. "He doesn't realize how much training he's missing out on by staying behind. King Choppa was right about him! He may have a natural talent for fighting, but that attribute alone will never help that wimp keep up with me!"
Running past the signs, Yeung paid close attention to the speed limit. The sight of his form careening down the highway at superhuman speeds turned more than a few heads. Some motorists were so distracted by his speed they forgot about that one little thing that one must always do behind the wheel. Yeah…, that's right! Keeping one's eyes on the damned road! Let's just say that at day's end, there were sure to be lots of memorial crosses popping up on the highway…
Yeung eventually reached the turnoff but unbeknownst to him, a highway patrol car was pulling up from behind. Inside were two, fat, nasty-looking, donut packing state troopers, each with dribble rolling down their basketball-circumference, redneck chins.
"Now, would you look at that?" motioned one of the officers between stuffing jelly rolls. "Damn, he sure is fast. How fast would you say that dare boy were goin Earl?"
"I dunno boss," replied the other officer who at this time was performing a balancing act between a giant bag of cheese curls and his role as the driver. "Whaja say we pull em over? This just might be fun!"
"Yeah, Let's dog em a bit before we finish our business here," agreed the fatter one with a mischievous grin. Reaching for the microphone, the blubbery buffoon switched on the sirens.
Meanwhile, Yeung was still running headlong down the road completely oblivious to the meat-headed morons following him. Suddenly, he heard sirens and doubled back.
"THIS IS DA HIGHWAY PATRO!" voiced one of the two morbidly obese men. "PULL OVER TO THE SIDE AND PRESENT YOUR LICENSE AND REGISTRATION!"
"You have got to be kidding me…," Yeung said coming to a screeching halt with the patrol car containing the two state troopers not far behind.
When the patrol car came to a stop, Yeung had to struggle to maintain his composure. The antics of the two officers were just unreal. One of the officers, the one on the passenger's side, had gotten stuck(No surprise there!) while trying to exit the vehicle. The other, upon seeing his partner's plight, whipped a crowbar out of the trunk and began to grease down his jammed compodre' with dish detergent that he had been keeping presumably for such an occasion.
'Are these guys for real?' Yeung mentally asked himself. 'How did these buffoons even pass their fitness test, or a better question would be how do they even reach their side arms?' Grinning ear to ear, an idea came to him.
'Hey! I could have some fun with these Goodyear blimps.'
The 'thinner' of the two officers finally managed to free his far larger, obese buddy. The rotund man took a second to brush himself off, and along with his subordinate, drew his knife stick and slowly sauntered over to Yeung. Yeung looked as though he were going to burst out laughing at the sight of what could best be described as two people impersonating emperor penguins.
"Now boy!" started the larger one, "About that dare license and registration…"
"I'm thirteen dip-shit!" Yeung retorted bluntly. At this insult, the larger state trooper lost his cool and drew back his Billy club. However, he was stopped by his partner.
"Wait Earl!" whispered the other highway patrol man, "Don't do it out in the open!"
'Wow! He can actually draw his arm back,' Yeung mentally said to himself. 'I don't know what to say. I'm impressed!'
"Don't give us any of your lip boy!" remarked the smaller, aiming his gun at the boy's face. "We got you on several counts of endangering the public, one count of insulting an officer of da law, and one hell of a count of jay-walking! Now, you're gonna walk over to our car over yonder, place your hands on da hood, and spread em nice and easy!"
"That's right son," agreed the bigger trooper. "We gonna teach you to respect our authority boy!"
"Why are you guys hassling me?" asked Yeung. "Got nothing better to do?"
It was then that the bigger one reached for his sidearm. Cocking the hammer back, the big officer pointed the weapon right between Yeung's eyes. Yeung's grin did a 180.
"Hey! What in the Hell are you doing you jackass?" yelled the boy fighter.
"Just shut up, walk to the car, and put your damned hands on the hood!" the big man ordered impatiently. "Do it now, or I promise to God Almighty that I'll paint the pavement with blood!"
Getting over the initial shock of police harassment, Yeung's resolve began to solidify. Indignation written on his face, the teen warrior moved towards the large man until he could almost smell the aroma of burnt lead on the opening of the barrel.
All of a sudden, the second highway patrolman slipped behind Yeung and aimed his firearm right at the back of the boy's head.
"MAN! THIS IS SOME BULL...!"
Feeling as though they were now on top of things, the smaller of the two officers began to get pushy. Quickly, he drew back his club and brought it down right across the top of Yeung's head.
The resounding 'crack' that followed could have been heard for hundreds of yards as the Billy club splintered atop the young fighter's cranium. Yeung promptly dropped face first to the pavement, seemingly dead.
"Dang it rookie!" shouted the bigger officer. "We were supposed to lead him back to the car, drag him some place else, and then kill him!"
"I'm sorry boss!" sputtered the smaller officer. "I thought I'd…"
Just then the smaller officer began to shake violently. At his feet, the body of the boy he had just slain, began to prop itself up on its elbows. Fear written on his face, the larger trooper began to inch away from Yeung's rising form.
"What the hell is this kid?" yelled the smaller officer.
His face like stone, Yeung began to skulk over to the larger officer. For anyone who had seen the old Frankenstein movies, the boy looked almost like the monster right before killing his creator.
Promptly, the bigger trooper opened fire on Yeung. However, the bullets had little effect on the young warrior aside from forcing him back.
"Who do I kill first?" Yeung hissed.
What Yeung didn't realize was that the smaller officer behind him had pulled out a pump action shotgun and was leveling it at the back of Yeung's head. The rookie cop pulled the trigger and with a loud 'bang' the teen fighter was thrown forward. He landed face first at the larger trooper's feet.
"Did I get em?" asked the smaller trooper in a panicky voice.
Much to the trooper's chagrin, Yeung rolled over and sat up again as if nothing had happened.
"Word of advice guys," hissed the boy, "If you're going to kill someone, do it. Don't just stand there talking about it." With that, Yeung jumped to the side to avoid a shot by one of the troopers. With a right legged spinning heel kick, he disarmed his two assailants.
Moving quickly, the two officers reached for their knife sticks and tried a different approach. Drawing back, the two bumbling cops charged at the teen warrior. In response, Yeung jump high into the air and came down on the smaller of the two state troopers with a bone-shattering stomp to the sternum. While Yeung did this, the fatter one had gotten behind Yeung and swung his knife stick hoping to catch Yeung while he was preoccupied with his partner. Yeung saw this just in time and used the blow he applied to the smaller state trooper to propel him into the air allowing him to dodge the swing from the other one. The knife stick of the larger cop wound up striking the gravely injured, thinner cop right across his neck, breaking it instantly. The sight of the smaller trooper's lifeless body slumping to the floor in a heap distracted the larger cop long enough for Yeung to drop in behind him. Yeung hastily drew his left leg back to deal a devastating blow to the far larger man's left knee. The obese trooper squealed in pain as he felt his knee cap and lower leg taken right out from under him. His gigantic form hit the ground face first with enough force to bruise more than a few ribs.
With all the strength he had left, the large cop rolled over to look up at his undersized adversary.
"Look buddy!" said the now crippled blob, "I can pay you. Just let me go man!"
"Forget it!" remarked Yeung. "If I let you go, you'll have your buddies in West City coming down on me like flies on stink. No, it ends here!"
Yeung walked over to where the crowbar laid that the smaller cop had been using earlier. He picked it up and doubled back on the downed cop.
'Do I really want to kill this tub of lard in such a bland fashion?' Yeung asked himself. 'I don't see any other murder weapon around here that appeals to me. I could take their patrol car and use it to run him over, or better yet, I could take both his set of handcuffs and those of his partner and use them in combination with a tree, this vehicle, and any chain or rope I find in the trunk to rip his limbs from their sockets. This could take a while and I really don't have time to spare. I have to get to the Cell Games. I guess the crowbar will have to do although this buffoon deserves far worse.'
Yeung walked over to where the state trooper lay in pain all the while brandishing the crowbar over his head in the most sickening manner imaginable. He wanted to make this bloated redneck suffer.
"NO! Oh please God! Don't!" were the officer's last words before Yeung began to beat him over the head senselessly with the blunt weapon. The officer tried to cover his face with his arms but that did little good against someone who could rip through people as if they were rag dolls. It wasn't long before his arms and hands were shattered by Yeung's mighty blows. Yeung then drew back the crowbar as far as he could, and with all his strength, brought the curved tool straight down on the officer's cranium, knocking a hole right through that part of his skull. The man lay there convulsing for a few moments before his body stopped moving altogether.
With his task behind him, Yeung gathered the bodies and placed them in the patrol car. Putting the vehicle in neutral, he pushed it into the brush along the roadside. This done, Yeung turned to leave.
"You know," said Yeung to know one in particular, "I do believe I'm beginning to enjoy this." The boy gathered his backpack and power chute and continued on his way.
While running full stride, a thought came to him. "I should probably travel through the countryside from here on out. It'll only be a matter of time before someone discovers the bodies. After this, I'll probably never be able to show my face in West City again. The only thing I can do now is disappear."
And so Yeung's great journey across the continent continued for two more days. He soon left the West City region and was making his way across a vast savanna. The grasslands of the Great Northern continent hosted vegetation as high as his shoulders. As the boy went he would encounter many wild beasts, some of which were violent. If such was the case he would grapple them as a way of honing his skills for the Cell Games. He'd battle a pride of lions here, the occasional apelike sasquatch there. He even had the opportunity to battle an agitated, male hippopotamus. One battle in particular proved to be most vexing to the young warrior.
"Damned!" cursed Yeung. "I'm gonna wear me out at this rate!" For a short while, Yeung had been grappling a powerful, male triceratops in a test of brute strength, and exhaustion was beginning to set in for both combatants. The three-horned dinosaur prepared to charge him once again but Yeung showed no signs of conceding. Yeung again stood up and prepared himself for the onslaught to come.
"Come on big guy," goaded Yeung. "Bring it on."
Hell-bent on trampling its' target, the triceratops plowed forward with everything it had. Each time it would drive Yeung away from its' herd, Yeung would simply run back to the body of animals in an effort to coax the aggressive brute into fighting him. Now however, the creature had had enough. He was putting everything on the line in an effort to destroy the feeble human.
Yeung planted one of his feet firmly behind him and one out front. He spread his arms wide and got into the grappling stance that he had learned from the time he was five. The triceratops was soon upon him. When the two opposing forces clashed, it was like a train wreck. Dust went flying everywhere as the enormous triceratops pushed the small boy ten, twenty, thirty, forty feet until bashing Yeung right through a balboa tree.
This however, did not kill Rolo Yeung. The midget lad was plastered to the raging dino's face holding on to the duel large horns protruding from the creature's crest. The triceratops threw its' head back and forth attempting to dismount the mighty youth but Yeung continued to hold.
The seriously pissed-off dinosaur soon tired of this tactic and began to ram its face into the ground in an attempt to gore the little fighter. But still, Yeung's resolve continued to hold firm despite the excruciating pressure that was being exerted upon his body.
God, I'm so tired. No, he is far larger than I am. He has to be even more exhausted than me. As if on cue, the triceratops ceased pounding the teenager into the bare earth and went back to charging. This however was what Yeung had been waiting for. He brought his feet to the ground just as the behemoth geared up to run and braced himself as he lifted the entire front of the triceratops' body off the ground. With a powerful twist, Yeung pushed his external oblique to the limit as he made like a rodeo cowboy and hurled the giant dinosaur to the side. The ten ton animal barrel rolled like a soda can in the wind until crashing into a distant tree.
Yeung staggered over to where the dinosaur had been thrown and peered into the creature's eye. The creature gave Yeung a look that almost said 'You win.' Yeung squatted down on his hands and knees and began to whisper something into the overgrown lizards' ear…
"Your good, but as long as I'm around you'll always be second best."
The triceratops got to his feet and gave Yeung a friendly nudge as if to convey his respect before turning around and trudging back to his herd. Meanwhile, Yeung went off to gather firewood so that he could settle down for the rest of the night. After making a fire, he had a quick meal before settling down for the night.
At the crack of dawn Yeung found himself in excruciating pain from last night's battle with the rampaging triceratops and decided to take some aspirin. It was the start of the forth day of his journey to the Cell Games, and he wanted to use today wisely to make up for the time he lost fooling around. He decided that it would be best to skip breakfast much to the chagrin of his aching gut. After packaging his effects, the boy headed out.
Yeung wasted no time making his way across the vast prairie lands that made up the central lands of the planet's super continent. To avoid arousing suspicion from local authorities who may recognize him, he stuck mostly to animal trails. Even though Yeung could handle half a dozen armed men he didn't want to chance taking on an entire precinct.
Hours went by and the strain of constant travel was starting to take it's toll on Yeung's sore body. He decided that he would take a risk by hitchhiking. He found a highway that looked as though it were well traveled and settled in for a spell. He passed the time through meditation. He found a reasonably clear space on the roadside and sat down. Getting into a comfortable position, he closed his eyes and relaxed his mind.
An hour passed by and still nothing. Yeung was considering just finishing his journey on foot, and just as he was about to trudge on, he heard a noise.
'Sounds like someone's coming,' thought the boy jumping to his feet. Sure enough there was a vehicle heading down the road at a fairly high velocity.
"It's a pickup truck," stated Yeung. "An old Chevy by the looks of it. Don't see many of them anymore."
As the truck got closer Yeung got a better look at the state of his potential ride.
"Holy Crap! Whoever the owner is needs to take better care of their stuff. The damn bumper looks like it's about to fall off!" Yeung fell silent when he realized that the driver was slowing down. The truck pulled up alongside Yeung with its passenger side window already down so that he and the driver may speak.
"What ya doing all the way out here stranger?" asked the driver.
"I'm trying to get to the Northern Wastelands," Yeung answered.
"Why would a kid like you want to go to that old sand trap?"
"It's a personal matter," replied the boy.
"OK buddy," said the driver. "I hear ya." The driver then began to look Yeung up and down in a way that made the young master uneasy.
"Do you wanna lift?" asked the driver politely. "There ain't any settlements for 50 miles. You're lucky I stopped when I did. There's a lot that could happen to a young'n like you in these parts."
'Wow this guy's offering me a ride,' thought the boy. 'Truck looks like shit but beggars can't be choosers.'
"Sure, thanks old boy," replied Yeung tossing his backpack in the bed. The driver reached over and opened the passenger door from the inside.
Yeung climbed into the passenger side and shut the door behind him. Once he was strapped in, he got settled and tried to relax. There was a long silence between the two of them following Yeung's pickup and Yueng used this time to appraise the driver. The driver himself was wearing a flannel shirt and a baseball cap. The flannel shirt was covered in tobacco and mustard stains. This gave one the impression that this man did not take good care of himself. His choice of footwear was a pair of snakeskin cowboy boots.
'He doesn't look very strong at all. If anything, he looks like a scrawny, middle-aged wimp. Still, I can't get over this boding feeling.' It was then Yeung decided to break the silence.
"So what's your story old timer?" inquired Master Yeung.
"I came out here to get away from everything," answered the driver. "Too many people, not enough space. A man like me needs breathing room. I needed a place where my creativity could take flight."
"Creativity! You some kind of artist?"
"Something like that," smiled the man. "I enjoy certain kinds of 'projects'."
"That's cool," commented the lad. "What kind of projects?"
"Oh…, it wouldn't interest you," the man answered. "So, why are you out here again?"
"I didn't tell you to begin with," answered Yeung who at the moment began to feel tired. "Hey, I'm gonna lay back and get some shut eye. Is that alright with you?"
"Sure," answered the driver. "It's still a good distance to the next town. I'll tell you when we get there."
"Much appreciated." Yeung fell back and dozed off.
A while later, Yeung felt someone shaking him. He opened his eyes and turned to see it was the driver.
"You don't mind if I listen to the radio, do ya boy?" asked the driver.
"It's your truck. Not mine."
The driver reached for the stalk of what was once an on/off and volume knob and turned on the radio. He turned it to the station of his choosing and sat back to enjoy the broadcast.
'This is a special news bulletin. Police reports confirm that between 11:45 and 12:15 last night, convicted mass murderer Floyd Simmons escaped temporary custody from the Bingumtin Town sheriffs' office. Floyd Simmons is wanted for 34 killings stretching as far back as twenty years. His description is that of a middle aged Caucasian male. He is reported to have a small build. He has a noticeable curvature in his spine. A word of caution: He is believed to be armed and extremely dangerous!'
Yeung cringed on the inside. Had he been riding with a convicted mass murderer this whole time? Asleep no less! He eyed the scrawny man wearily.
'Gotta get him first!'
At the time however, the driver was thinking the same thing. 'Shit! He knows. Better make this quick before he jumps out the door.'
The driver quietly reached into the side compartment opposite from Yeung and grasped a robust pipe wrench. He then swung the wrench at the teen's head with all his might, clocking him right across the forehead. Yeung's face was sent right through the passenger side lateral window.
In his bloodlust, the sadistic driver forgot to watch the road and the truck swerved halfway off the pavement. Because of this, Yeung's head collided with the post of a stop sign causing the back of his head to be thrown against the outside of the cabin with the force of a sledgehammer. His seemingly lifeless form slid against the inside of the door right into the floorboard of the cabin.
The serial killer had gotten the truck under control and was quietly admiring his handy work. He sighed deeply, feeling very disappointed that he wouldn't get to have more fun with his latest victim.
"Hmph, what a pity," the killer remarked, "And here I was hoping that I'd get to use some of my toys on him before I did him in." His look of disappointment soon turned into a look of pure fear as he saw Yeung stir.
"Holy Crap!" muttered Yeung clutching his head, "For a little guy he sure does lay on the mustard."
The murderous driver began to smack Yeung across the face repeatedly with the wrench, trying his best to knock the kid cold, but every time, Yeung would simply straighten out and shrug off his assaults.
'God! What is with this little bastard?' the murderer asked himself. 'Why won't he die?'
After about thirty seconds of constant thrashing, the driver threw the wrench to the floorboard and tried something different before Yeung could fully recover. He braced himself against the driver's side door and tried kicking the snot out of the kid. His divided attention between trying to kill Yeung and driving caused the truck to swerve dangerously in and out of oncoming traffic, sending several cars and their passengers in the oncoming lane right into the roadside ditch.
Yeung was fast growing tired of this weakling's efforts to harm him. "It's my turn now Bubba."
Yeung braced himself against the inside of the door just as the driver had done before, brought both feet together, and kicked the bloodthirsty driver so hard that the force of the attack sent the man careening out the driver's side, taking the door with him.
The killer suffered terrible scraps and bruises as he tumbled several yards along the pavement before slowly coming to a halt. The killer was splayed out on his back with the crook of his neck ground into the asphalt. He struggled to sit up, but when he did, he wished he hadn't. Approaching fast was a big rig loaded with logs. The murderer tried with all his might to get up, but his legs refused to cooperate. His body slowly began to reach a sitting position, but in the end, it was all for nothing. The oncoming eighteen wheeler slammed into him with its over twenty tons of payload sending a limb here and an entrail there.
Back inside the truck, Yeung had taken control of the vehicle. Due to having no prior experience behind the wheel, the kid struggled with fine controls. Despite his ineptitude at driving, he had decided to commandeer the truck the rest of the way to the Northern Wastelands. Imagine an Asian midget behind the wheel. Yeah…
Of course he would have to ditch the truck sooner or later and resume his journey on foot. It was common knowledge that the Northern Wastelands had few roads and even fewer that were any good for anything other than a jeep. That of course doesn't even take into account the mountain range that runs through the northern most part of the great desert. There were no roads at all running through that sac asylum.
"Hmm, the Northern Wastelands," Yeung mussed to himself. "I wonder how many crazy shits will be trying to kill me between here and there. I guess I'll find out soon enough. I just hope that I don't get pulled over." Yeung hit the gas and sped forward determined to make up for lost time.
Yeung drove on for several hours until the truck began to sputter. Yeung looked at the fuel gauge and saw that it was on empty.
'Oh great,' Yeung mentally lamented, 'I'm out of gas. I don't have any money either. I spent it all on power aid and smack. I guess it's back to going it on foot.'
Yeung pulled over to the roadside and exited the vehicle. He grabbed his backpack and put it on before pushing the truck into a pit. He then covered the truck with rocks and whatever else he could get his hands on so as to cover his tracks. Continued into the Northern Wastelands on foot, the kid took one last look behind him. He had overcome wild beasts and men alike to get this far. Little did Yeung realize that his greatest challenge lay ahead of him.
Author's Note: From here on out I will list the character's power levels so that you readers can see their progress.
Yeung: 109
Fein: 78
King Choppoa: 146
mass murdering driver: 5
male triceratops: 32
Cell(perfect form): over 1 billion