Arc 2 - Chapter 25: Black Asphalt Highway

(Quintiles 22, 59 / 8:27PM)

“I guess things are getting worse…”

“You just had to say it!”

“Come on Luke! Pull yourself into the van!”

“I’m trying!”

Footsteps ricocheted on top of them, along with the metal denting with each step they took. As if the person was made of iron, Jack glued his eyes at the highway despite hearing the roof creak. But Miles had no choice, as he gripped the handle of the passenger side door.

“Wait, Miles!? What are you—”

The door swung open, leaving Miles to be pushed into the direction of the asphalt. Luckily for him, he maintained his core strength, as he kept his left foot pushing against the glove apartment.

Feeling the night air rippling his hair, he had his right hand gripping the handle while his left on his holster. With the wind wanting to suck him out, he turned his attention onto Jack.

“Drive carefully you hear!?”

“Wait, Miles! You have to think this through!”

He steadied himself as he pushed out into the door. Clinging onto it, with his right hand firm on the window, his feet were pressed onto the little doorstep of the van.

Looking up as he hugged the frame, he couldn’t spot anything. Climbing up toward the top, while the raging winds blew against his face, he tried to squint through the heavy darkness around him.

‘Just where is Harold—’

He heard wind being snapped in half toward his left; leaving him no choice but to rapidly fling his head.

—“Did you forget about me?”—

He saw a fist flying towards him, its knuckles enacting like something of a locked in missile. Riding a wolf, it had already lunged itself upward, and Miles barely configured it with his squinting eyes. He knew who he was, once he gulped loudly with a ghostly pale face.

“Come get your medicine!”

Pulling out his left sawed-off-shotgun, he then pointed it toward the wolf that was in the air. His finger already on the trigger, Ryan’s fist was already dodged, and he took this opportunity to slaughter the corrupted pet. Firing the trigger, two shells blasted the air, allowing the barrel to be smelted in heat.

Denting the wolf’s brains out, it left Ryan to—no, he was sort of expecting that.

With his other hand, he stretched it onto the wide open door that Miles didn’t close. Swinging like a monkey, while the tips of his toes grazed the asphalt, he catapulted through the air and landed on the roof.

“How’s this for side effects!?”

Stretching both of his arms back, followed by crouching down onto the creaking metal, he honed his all black pupils at the cautious Miles. Pulling out his other shotgun, he had both of them pointing at the lich, and it wasn’t long before Ryan thrusted both his fists at him.

Intertwining the air around his skin, Miles saw the fists carry the wind like an aggressive postal driver. With little space to dodge or swerve, he took a few steps to the right, and kept his right foot near the ledge of the roof. Once the fist passed through, he gritted his teeth, and pointed the double barrels at the lich’s hand. Firing once, it shot through Ryan’s palm, and out through his knuckles with tar dripping out from it.

“Don’t let your guard down.”

But when he fired the shot, the other fist that flung in the same direction zigzagged like a snake. Without knowing, Miles felt his world tilt backward, leaving the back of his head to hit the side of the van. Seething the pain through the teeth, he clenched his eyes, and dangled as he still gripped the helms of his shotguns.

“I guess this is the end of the line.”

A gunshot blazed the air from behind.

Tar pouring from the right side of his chest, it oozed out from the gunshot wound. Bending down on his knees, he pulled back his left hand, and turned his bare feet to the direction of two young men staring down at him. One of them had an assault rifle, while having elf ears and brownish-ginger hair. The other had light brown hair, and had a side bang covering his right eye.

“Take one more step, or else…”

Both young men turned to see Miles, who dangled from the side of the van. His right hand clenched onto his right ankle, it left Stan and Luke to flicker with sweat along their temples. His frown, that pushed the corners of his lips into his lower jawline, was soon lifted up to form a devilish smile.

“Both of you don’t want to kill me. I’m your old friend aren’t I?”

“Then who tries to murder their own friends? You have absolutely no right to lecture us.” Said Stan.

“Oh really?”

Ryan began to walk toward the still standing Luke, as Stan kept his finger on the trigger. If they killed Ryan now, then Miles would be killed as well.

But once Ryan reached Luke, he placed his heart right at the barrel of his uzi. His hand shaking evermore, Luke felt his stomach go red the more his body quivered, allowing his breathing to turn rigid.

“From where we stand, you’re the good guys and I’m the bad guy. So you can either be merciful and plead with me, or take your chances and just shoot me. That’s all this scenario is about.”

He kept his finger still in the trigger, and it twitched relentlessly the more he frowned at the smirking lich. Once Ryan let out a small chuckle, the abhorrent smell of rotting teeth and gums flowed toward Luke’s face, which wrinkled his nose tenfold. The wind blowing against them, both men couldn’t take the shot.

“But you, Luke, are too good of a guy. It was engraved in your character in it? But as for my character…”

Ryan stretched his left hand back, and contorted it into a fist. Both of his bare feet steady on the roof, the metal dented, allowing it to creak and crackle ever so slowly.

“I’m way beyond in need of salvation.”

He then thrusted his fist toward Luke’s face, leaving the edges of his knuckles to ripple through the air. Shutting his eyes, wrinkling his face, Luke softly pushed a blow of air from his mouth as he braced for the impact.

—Until he heard a gunshot.—

Having his sawed-off-shotgun with his right hand, Miles had the barrel pointed toward Ryan. His legs shaking relentlessly, his knees buckled from the weight of his own body, he didn’t bow. Crouching down, the fist that he thrusted at Luke … was dodged.

And at the same time, he finally felt his other hand be pierced by something. Seeing that Miles had gripped onto his stretched out arm, leaving his forearm to convulse in strength, he sharpened his eyes at Miles.

“Can’t you just jump off a bridge or something!? I’m in the middle of a killing here!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Ok, tough guy! Bring it!”

Although tar poured from his wounds, and given the fact that Miles took him off guard, how did Miles shoot him? Considering that they felt a push on the van, it meant Miles had to jump, while clinging onto Ryan’s white pigmented arm.

And as for Luke, he allowed his eyes to see the entirety of Ryan’s frail forearm and wrist. Leaving Luke no chance to attack, Stan took the opportunity.

“Eat lead.”

Pulling the trigger, a barrage of bullets pierced through the barrel.

Thrusting his stretched arms back, he jumped back, and allowed his feet to stop at the edge of the front. Sliding through the smoothened metal, he dodged Stan’s bullets, and gave off a smug smirk once Miles shot another shell.

“Then eat what you take in!”

Like the startup of a light switch, all of the tiny bullets within the shell bounced off Ryan’s body. Scattering toward the three of them, Miles had already planned this through. Sprinting toward Luke and Stan, a bluish light escaped through his palms, giving the already dimming night some hope.

Creating a little wall, the tiny shells crashed straight into the barrier. Being in front of the three of them, Miles clocked in his ammo, along with Luke and Stan.

“Oh, you little cheater!”

“It’s called thinking strategically!”

“Then how about I give you less time to think!?”

Because Ryan would just bounce off the bullets from his body, Luke was the first to rush Ryan without hesitation. Same went for Ryan, who pulled both of his fists back while hardening his body. Like playing a game of chicken, Luke failed, as he dodged at the last second with his overreaching blessing.

And allowed Miles to turn his wrists into blue rigid shields. Sparkling the bluish light, the offense-like shields enacted as sicles, with the tips of them looking like corners of a sharp table. Already ceasing the blue wall, Ryan was caught off guard by the sudden dodge, once Miles threw his fist.

In an instant, the spikes of the edge of the shield struck deep into the tissue. But because he was rubbery, no tar dropped and no skin peeled from the sudden punch. And yet, he remained still, and took it like a champ. For a split second, this fatal second would prove the detriment of—

‘Eat ice.’

Having his hand inside his jacket, he already pulled out a vial of blue frozen liquid, as his fingers felt the shrill cold. The tips of them already going numb, he instantly threw the vial straight at Ryan’s face.

And because of Miles’ punch, Ryan was knocked back to the edge of the van. And because he failed to see what was in front of him, he failed to dodge the sudden thrust of—

It trapped his face.

‘Those cheaters!’

Plummeting down to the asphalt below, as his entire face was blindfolded in ice, the weight of his body kept him down. Hitting the pavement, his entire chest and face being the first to scrape against the pavement. Burning his pale skin, pigments of his white skin were peeled, but not like a cheese grinder as just slid through the asphalt.

Meanwhile, Luke, Stan and Miles all saw off the injured Ryan, who stalled motionless far in the distance. Averting their eyes away, their faces darkened increasingly.

“Do you … do you think he survived?”

“Most likely, but call me mad, but … I think we should’ve taken the chance to—”

—“My turn, Fenix!”—

Popping out like the world’s scariest jack-in-the-box, another lich zoomed toward them like a freight train. It wasn’t honing its all-tarred eyes at Miles, but at…

“Ha!”

Luke thrusted himself to the back of the van, leaving his heels to squeeze the end of the metal. Both Miles and Stan were caught off guard, which in turn made them unable to defend Luke from the sudden lich.

—What can I do?!

He felt his frail knuckles blow into his cheek, allowing its sharpened edges to crackle and splinter the bone. The vibration soaring all throughout his face, it also encapsulated his nose, and then came the pain that its nerves delayed to send. His heels unable to hold the edge of the van, it sent him to completely loosen with the roof of the van.

Being sent backward, into the black asphalt below, he felt a rivet of blood pour through his nose. He catched a glimpse of the lich above, and the two other men who saw him off with widened eyes.

His eyes watered, leaving his breath to be caught in his throat—

—Something snapped.—

________________________________________________________________________

“My turn! Fenix!”

Popping out like the world’s scariest jack-in-the-box, another lich zoomed toward them like a freight train. It wasn’t honing its all-tarred eyes at Miles, but at…

“Miles! Use your shield!”

Quickly nodding at Luke’s command, Miles pushed forward his arms and hands, and used his shield to form a wall. But instead of himself, he made the shield specifically for Luke.

Having no choice but to slam against the wall, Harold pressed his face and body like a cartoon character that ran against glass.

“Come out of theeerrre! I got a supprrrriiiise for you!”

Pushing a goofy face, both pupils in the innards of his eyes clocked at two different things. Crazingly chuckling at the sight of Luke’s all scared face, he used his rotten tongue to lick across his pale lips.

Miles felt his legs go numb, as sweat began to rain down his temples. Along with his knees on the verge of buckling, his feet that squeezed the metal of the roof shook relentlessly alongst the van. For him, this was the most he ever used his blessing.

“Can’t you guys just fight like normal men!? The way men are supposed to fight!?”

Pulling back his body from the shield, he clocked his head toward where Miles was. Noticing the bluish light beginning to dim, and Miles barely keeping his body steady, the lich only gave off a meek shrug.

“Then again, I’m not a man, just a shell of it.”

He raised his hands up in the air, and tilted his head upward to see the sky filled with smoke. The clouds orange, and ash softly snowing onto the pavement below, his goofy facade and teenage boy voice …

Was replaced with a dark sundered aura of a middle-aged man.

“Hallowing of Lupus.”

All of them straightened their backs, and sealed their lips as they heard the change in his voice. Their throats parched with thirst, they gulped loudly, and then…

‘What is that sound?’

He turned his head to the direction of thumping, making him squint his eyes into the howling darkness. Seeing the pounding of pavement, or rather a collection of it, it was like a group of animals were chasing him. Quivering his mouth open, he placed his right hand onto the helm of his right eye.

—Wait … why are they coming now? Weren’t they behind us the entire time?

The undomesticated wolves burnt the smell into their noses, leaving them to drool out saliva from their muzzles. Luke, who turned his head to Miles, saw him barely holding off Harold with his shield.

“Get your weapons ready, Miles!”

“Stop being a snitch, you bastard!”

Banging on the blue shield with his fists, every slam made Miles flounder out a droplet of sweat. Trickling the metal floor, every bang on the shield was enough to push Miles down to gravity.

“Luke! I can’t take it anymore!”

“Just a bit longer!”

Stan’s assault rifle gun through the pack of wolves, along with Luke who used his uzis to help him thin them out.

The light dimming more and more, the weight of Miles’ own body soon plummeted down to his knees. Withdrawing the light for a split second, the small window was enough for Harold to…

“You’re mine!”

Thrusting himself towards Luke, he pushed his bare feet to launch himself like a raging bull. His eyes sharpened, his breathing pungent with rotten teeth and gums, he extended his right hand forward. Just as he was about to make contact, with his nails scouring the edges of his hair—

Luke dodged it.

Hunching his entire body forward, the nails that were about to lodge into his skull, was only a glimpse of the failed future.

‘What the fuck?!’

In slow motion, Luke felt Harold’s entire body go past his back. Casting a small shadow, one filled with ice, all of his weight was stationed on the soles of his feet.

“Damn you!”

Seeing him be sent off into the darkened night, by just tricking him at the last minute, Luke straightened his back and body again. The world in present motion, he felt the cold air blow against his face, as he began scratching the back of his head.

“Just to let you guys know! We’re heading into the McLain Tunnel!”

Miles turned his head toward the front of the van, and saw a small infrastructure coming toward them in the distance. As for Jack, he had the pedal to the metal, while keeping his hands in an absolute straight line. Clearing his throat, he used his left side mirror to glance up at the three of them.

“Get inside!”

“But how!? We’re too busy dealing with Harold’s pets!”

“Nah don’t worry, I think I ended the last wolf.”

Stan squinted through the heavy darkness, and saw no signs of thumping or growling in the night. The air growing cold, he then turned his attention onto his own rifle, and noticed that the chamber was now empty.

Beginning to reload, Miles and Luke also did as well, as they clocked in whatever bullets that their magazines could hold. For once, they had this chance to rest, or rather a chance to settle their eggs straight. Turning his eyes toward the tunnel, which began to get bigger and bigger, Miles pushed down his eyes and sunk his cheeks.

‘How long ago was it when I was in a tunnel?’

He felt the familiar air of a tunnel … and the shouts and cheers from all around.

But it soon faded by the sound of thumping.

Luke, who felt his blessing raise the ends of his hair, turned his head toward the back of the van with squinting eyes. It was another collection of wolves—no … it was a collection of packs traveling toward them. Baring its fangs, along with drooling saliva all across the black asphalt, Luke turned his attention to the others with a pale face.

“Hey, we got another pack! No! Lots of packs!”

Both men turned their stares at Luke, who saw the packs of wolves all thudding across the highway. Pushing away mountains of dust and ash, while making a river of drool, the packs were at most dozens to two dozens each. Getting ready to jump, the three felt their breaths go heavy, and felt their palms tighten against the burden of metal.

Moving their fingers toward their triggers, they awaited any move that the wolves may take. It was either the wolves jumped one by one, pack by pack or… uh no …

All of them remained silent, until Jack broke it.

“It’s been nice knowing y'all.”

All of the wolves leaped toward them, their muzzles growling relentlessly like old lawn mowers. And at the same time, the tunnel that they were heading into, was then plowed by the van they rode on.

With no lights to guide them, and wolves to shoot … They left luck and fate to decide the outcome.