Breaking the Law

The rays of the sun, just beginning to set, shone off the perfect paint of a pitch black 1968 Cadillac Eldorado. Trees blurred and street signs passed by every several seconds, like beats in a slow melodic song. The screaming police sirens and flashing lights of a hundred police cruisers accompanied the car’s rhythmic dance down the highway. The driver’s fingers tapped along to a song only in his head as beads of sweat trickled from his long blonde locks, down his face, and into his lush beard.

Cassandra fanned herself in the passenger seat. Her legs were crossed and propped up on the dashboard. “Paul, can you please turn on the a/c, or roll down the windows, or something? I’m dying in here.”

He stared straight ahead. “Cassandra baby, you know I can’t do that. Chill chickie, we’ll be there soon enough doll.”

She sat up straight and slammed her feet on the floor. “Stop! You’re not some hippy that woke up from a comma after fifty years. Talk like a normal person. What is wrong with you?”

“Come on disco queen, there’s no reason to be buggin’ out. Just keep it on ice and enjoy the tunes my man.”

Cassandra crossed her arms in front of her. “There are no tunes psycho.”

“Don’t be a drag man, you could be having good times with me if you’d jus’ chill my man.”

“I’m not a man and you’re so annoying.” The stench of sweat and body odor permeated the car so thick that even after four hours on the run Cassandra was still waving her hand in front of her nose, from time to time.

“I gotcha baby, it’ll all jive in the end, you’ll see.”

One of the state cop cars pulled up to the right rear of the vehicle. Its headlight bar, which stretched from fender to fender, illuminated the entire road in front of it for a hundred yards. The hood sloped straight up right until just over the rear tire where it sloped right back down to a flat rear end. It looked like a wedge of silver cheese floating on the highway. There was no indication that it had any windows and lacked any pleasing aesthetics. Cassandra rose the twelve gauge between her legs, rolled down the window, and emptied both barrels into the hood of the cruiser. The red and blue lights flashed in the night, accenting the road, along with the setting sun. The car flipped sideways and careened away from the Cadillac. 

The Cadillac’s window slid shut and Paul screamed, “Shut the window Cassandra! Now!”

She threw her empty hand up in the air. “I didn’t have a choice! That car would have clipped us and we would have been flipping down the road instead of him. No thanks. What was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, but we have to keep as much of the outside air out of the car as humanly possible.”

Cassandra smirked while she placed the gun back between her legs, ejected the spent casings, and loaded new slugs into the gun. “Why can’t you always talk like that? You almost sounded normal.”

“This isn’t a laughing matter Cassandra. This is important business.”

Cassandra’s eyes seemed to twinkle. “Who’s laughing?”

“Right on skirt, that was some gnarly shootin’. No worries man, we’ll knock back some brews and laugh about this sitch once it’s over.”

The twinkle in her eyes vanished and she roller her eyes. “Whatever. Man. For the record, you and I will never be throwing back any drinks of any kind. When are we going to finally get there? ”

“You can never get there baby, right here is where you’re always at.”

“Come on Paul, when are we getting to our destination?” She held up both hands. “Stop, if you say anything about life being the destination or some other bull crap I swear I’m going to jump out of this car.”

“Chill pill baby, we’ll be there in a shake.”

“I have no idea how long a shake is, can you please just tell me how much longer I have to ride in this piece of garbage listening to your rubbish?”

“Solid baby, don’t fret, we’ll be there in less than five minutes.”

Cassandra rolled her head all the way back. “Oh gosh. Don’t you ever quit? I cannot wait for the next five minutes to end, seriously.”

A large wall that stretched from north to south materialized on the horizon. Paul let up on the accelerator and winked at Cassandra. “It’s almost time to rock n roll baby. When I give the word start trippin’ out on those pigs.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes, turned around, and crawled into the back seat. A long zip filled the interior of the vehicle and then Cassandra pulled a mini gun out of a large body sized bag. Pulling a .44 Magnum from her side holster, she shot out the back window. 

Paul swerved after he jumped from the sound of the gun. “Not yet Cassandra, we’re not ready.”

Cassandra squealed over the sound of the wind rushing in the back window, “I had to blow out the back window Paul, the barrel of the mini gun won’t fit in the stand you made for it with the window in the way.”

Paul growled, “I hope we have enough time.”

Cassandra clicked the gun into place. “It’ll be fine.”

The flashing lights came closer to the car as Paul continued to slow, then Cassandra opened fire. Paul was screaming, but the sound of the wind rushing through the back window, the rapid rattle from the gun, and the grinding of the mini gun’s spinning barrels drowned him out. Empty casings sprayed the left side of the back seat as the distinct scent of gun powder mingled with the outside sulfuric air blowing in. One cruiser after another exploded or careened off the highway, sometimes taking another with it.

The wall continued to grow on the horizon and a large steel double gate came into view. The gun fell silent and Paul screamed, “What are you doing? Don’t stop, we’re not there yet.”

“I’m out of ammo.”

Paul screamed even louder, “Already? I packed five ammo boxes? What did you do with them?”

Cassandra fumbled with another box of ammo. “I mean that that box was empty. I’m trying to load another one. Give me a minute.”

“We don’t have a minute Cassandra. They’ll catch up to us in seconds, you have to start firing again now. We won’t reach the gate for another five minutes.”

Cassandra slammed the top of the gun. “I thought you said five minutes five minutes ago?” Then the gun spat bullets again. She swung it back and forth aiming for each closest car and trying to drive them back. Yet, every second the cars came closer as Paul continued to slow their approach to the gate. An ugly wedge shaped cruiser was setting up to bump the rear of their Cadillac when Cassandra noticed it and sprayed it with bullets. Another of the ugly cars was lining up on the other side when the gun ran out of bullets again. Cassandra screamed, “Help!”

Just before the car made contact it exploded, flipped end over end, and landed on it’s roof. The night air was filled with tracers as a steady stream of bullets took out the rest of the cars. Only the black Eldorado was left driving toward the wall which was surrounded by thousands of men in, white, yellow, grey, or green hazmat suits. Paul slammed on the brakes and the car slid to a stop fifty yards from the gate. The men in the hazmat suits surrounded the car and dragged Paul and Cassandra out. Paul and Cassandra were beginning to twitch and a thin trail of drool was forming in the corner of Paul’s mouth. They were injected with an absurdly long needle, had hazmat suits put on them, and were handcuffed.

***

Cassandra woke up strapped to a hospital bed inside a bright white room. She struggled against her restraints for a few seconds and then relaxed. “Paul. Paul, wake up.”

Paul’s face was covered with small purple lesions and his breathing was ragged. 

A short man with pitch black hair entered the room. He wore a white lab coat, held a clip board in his right hand, and incessantly clicked a pen in his left. “You two are very lucky. The men guarding the wall were prepared to shoot both of you along with the hivemen who were chasing you. I guess your friend here has someone pretty high up in command who expected him to be coming here. If he hadn’t of been driving one of those ancient cars you both would’ve been lying on the road with the rest of those ugly things. Anyway, how are you feeling this morning? I see that he hasn’t woke up yet, so can you tell me where you two came from?”

Cassandra asked, “How long do we have to stay strapped up to these beds? If Paul knows someone so high up, then why are we being held like criminals?”

“No.” The short doctor clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Not criminals.” He held up two fingers pinched together. “Potential threats. We had to see whether you were infected before we let you loose and we wouldn’t know that until you woke up.” The doctor approached her bed and loosened Cassandra’s straps.

Cassandra rubbed her wrists. “So, what about Paul? Is he going to be okay?”

The doctor scratched his chin and looked out a window that didn’t exist. “We’re not really sure until he wakes up, but I have to be honest, the lesions on his face aren’t a great sign.” Then he looked directly into Cassandra’s eyes. “Not to mention his ragged breathing, that’s pretty concerning as well. So, can you answer my question? Where did you two come from?”

Cassandra stood up from the bed, swayed back and forth, then sat back down. “I don’t know where Paul came from. He just showed up,” A cloud seemed to fall over her face, “to the compound I was staying in and our compound’s leader told me that I could choose to go with Paul or go out there.” She pointed at the wall and her eyes quivered. “I didn’t have a choice. So here I am and that’s all I know. Oh, and that he’s super irritating. At one point I was ready to take my chances with whatever’s out there instead of listening to him talk another second.”

The doctor finished taking the notes and looked up at Cassandra. The corner of the left side of his mouth curled in a half smirk. “Well, we have a place for you here. You can be integrated into the compound today, well, as long you have skills we can use. If not…" he waved his hand in the air, “then you’ll have to attend whatever training we have the most need in. Usually it takes three to five years to get officially trained, depending on your skill sets and our needs.” The doctor pointed toward the door behind Cassandra. “Just head through there and you’ll be tested and placed wherever you fit in.”

Cassandra stood with her mouth open and her eyes half-closed. She breathed in deeply, exhaled, and then grimaced. “Are you sure? I feel like I should wait for Paul. I mean, he did get me here safely after all.”

The doctor placed his hand on Cassandra’s elbow and looked up at her. “I swear to you. There’s absolutely nothing you can do for him. I mean you did more to get him here safely…you know, I tell you what, I will call you as soon as he wakes up and you can come see if he’s okay. Does that sound good.”

Cassandra shook her head and sighed. “Okay, I guess you’re right. What could I do?”

The doctor smiled. “You’re right. I’ll get him healed and let you know the instant he’s awake.”

Cassandra turned around as slow as a turtle half the way and then committed to leaving and marched through the door as the doctor held it open for her. He wore a ridiculously large grin until the door shut. Then his face fell and he walked toward Paul. He pulled a large syringe out of his pocket and injected it into Paul’s neck. Then he loosened the straps, lifted Paul’s arm, turned it over, and revealed the watch that Paul had implanted on the inside of his wrist. Instead of two hands indicating the hours and minutes, there were three. The first pulsated back and forth between zero and twenty. The second dial sat at 98 and the third dial descended one digit at a time from 250 toward zero. When the third dial reached 100 Paul’s eyes began to flutter and the lesions on his face lightened. When it reached 25 Paul gasped and sat straight up. “Where am I? What happened?” He looked straight over the doctor.

The doctor grabbed his chin and turned his face down and flashed a light across his eyes.

Paul smacked the doctor’s hand and the flashlight skid across the floor. Then he opened his eyes wide. “Oh my gosh. Stan I am so sorry. I’ll go get it…” He tried to stand but his knees buckled.

Stan grabbed him as he fell and sat him back on the table. “Don’t worry about it. You did a fantastic job. We got another recruit, you survived, and we were able to waste a hundred of their hunters. Let’s see if we can double it next time.” He chuckled.

“I cannot believe how many of them were after us this time. Wasn’t it like twenty-five last time?”

“Yeah, but you’re really starting to piss them off. They hate you more than any other of our rescuers. They must really hate stylish black cars.”

Paul cracked his neck to the left. “How many more times,” then he cracked it to the right, “do you think I can do this? I’m really starting to feel the injection this time.”

Stan smirked. “You say that every time.”

Paul scowled. “I really mean it Stan. I’m really tired of this job. Don’t you have anything else for me?”

Stan’s head bobbed up and down. “Alright, okay, I’ll talk to the president about it and see if we can find someone to replace you. There are still so many more people to rescue.

Paul stood up and with his arm over Stan’s shoulder, he limped out of the room. “What story did that one tell you? I’ll never understand why they think they have to make something up.”

***

A man in a dark grey hazmat suit crouched in the bushes. On the other side, a tall gangly man full of purple lesions paced in the backyard of a plain square house. The yard was black mud with no bushes, flowers, nor even grass. He flayed his free arm around as he screamed, almost gurgling, into the square grey phone. “I don’t care what you do.” He flung the phone against his bland house and screamed into the air. The phone bounced off the house and the gangly man was lying face down in the dirt with a five inch needle protruding from his neck.

Two lines were traced in the dirt from the heels of the gangly man’s boots as the man in the hazmat suit dragged him into a black Eldorado. In a rush Paul peeled off his hazmat suit, threw it into the trunk, and practically dove into his front seat, slamming the door behind him. The rear window was replaced, a new bag sat in the rear seat, and the two of them were driving through the pitch black neighborhood where every house looked exactly the same.

The gangly man’s face showed no more signs of lesions and he shot up in his seat. “Where am I? What happened?” He yanked at the door handle but the door didn’t budge.

Sweat trickled down Paul’s face. “No worries my man. Everything will be peachy soon. No need to geek out. There’s been a gnarly leak at the chemical plant and I’m here to rescue you. Fair warning though, this toxic chemical drives people insane and those insane people will try to kill us.”

The passenger’s face turned white and his mouth gaped open. “Wait? What? Am I going to die?”

“Nah my man, jus’ chill and I’ll show you the ropes, you have my word. There’s a powerful gun in the back seat, along with a pistol and a shotgun. I’ll teach you how to use them, if you need me to. When the time comes, you’ll be ready. I swear it. No sweat my man.”

The passenger stared out of the window and his head swiveled like an owl. “I don’t understand, how can everything look so, um, we’re not in my neighborhood, but all the street signs are the same name as where I’m from.” He swiveled his head toward Paul and grasped his arm. “What is going on?”

“Don’t freak my man. I’ll explain everything to you.”