INTERSTATE76.COM

This is yet another story I wrote a few years back, around the time of New England Run. Was writing some things out of my system as well. If you'd like to comment on it, PM me or ICQ. No need to clutter up the board with one or two post threads.

November 3rd, 1977

The crisp evening air smelt of dying dreams and gasoline. Although fall had long
cast it?s hand in the yearly cycle of life, Nevada?s days where still long and hot. However,
once the sun began to set, the winds quickly cooled the desert?s sparse landscape. The
pump dinged off gallon after gallon of high octane Axxon gasoline into my Picard
Piranha?s fuel tank. It had only been a little over a year since I had ran from my life, my
first life of this lifetime. In New Jersey, another life was lived, a life with friendship, trust,
and peace. That person no longer existed, no longer breathed, he was dead and buried
deep inside my tattered memories. No sooner then I arrived here, then did death and
destruction haunt my every waking moment. Recently, even sleep was becoming filled
with nightmares. Hopefully the medication the AVA?s physicians had prescribed would
help me sleep and calm my nerves. There was still some enjoyment to ths new life. New
friends, new quests, if you want to call it that. Every moment you felt alive, maybe that is
way deathed dogged vigilanties, it could smell the overwhelming offensive oder of us
mocking his designs.

?Sorry Anubis, you?ll have to wait until you can orate my death rights.? I joked out loud,
my thoughts wandering over a brief self-refresh of old religious ideology.

A little overflow of gasoline swished out the lip of the gas tank. I removed the
nozzle and placed it back on the pump?s handle. A glance at the read out numbers told me
I would be down thirty dollars for this fill up. It was still hard for me to believe how high
the gas prices had been sky rocketing. Once in awhile they would stabilize, but not for
more then a week, then they would rise another penny or two a gallon.
As I dug my wallet out from the front pocket on my blue jeans, the gas station
attendant came strolling lazily up. He was a short older man, wearing a tattered Axxon
hat, a oily rag hung limply from his pant?s pocket as he leaned against the pump.

?Thats a mighty nice car you have their friend,? he said with a friendly smile. ?Ya Redline
Fox arn?t ya??

With a slight bit of apprehension I replied, ?Yes sir..?

Still with a smile on his face, he said ?Ahh don?t be shy now son; I?ve aint got much to do
out here cept listen to my ol scanner. Could prob identify half the creeper and vigilantes in
the Southwest if I do declare.?

Although I was refreshed by his good natured disposition, it was never good to stay out in
the open for to long. I pulled a collection of bills equaling thirty bucks out of my wallet,
but the old timer held up his hand in protest.

?Now now..? He said, ?If it wasn?t for people like ya, I prob would have lost my business
by now, or even worse. Ya just hang on to that for some food and such things.?

I thanked him, and with a wink he went back inside his little office/garage.
Opening the car door, I was about to slide in when I heard the dull droning of approaching
engines. My radar had been turned off, so I did not have advanced warning. As the sound
grew closer, I could tell that it was more then just one car approaching. My fear?s where
confirmed as a line of armed auto?s came barreling down the highway. They all slowed
and pulled into the gas station?s parking lot one after another. The lead car was a jet-black
70?Dover Lightning with a pair of Aim-Nein missiles on its roof. It pulled right up to the
direct opposite side of the pumps from me. Behind it a white 70 or so Potomac Phoenix
with no visible weapons, then a faded orange Jefferson Sovereign toting a pair of roof
mounted mortars, and finally a flame thrower armed silver Pheadra Palomino with the
word ?Metal? written real big on the hood with a hand giving the devil sign.

If they meant any ill-will, then trying to fight off all four of them would be almost
impossible, so I stood leaning on my car?s door, waiting for the drivers to get out. The
sun?s glare made it difficult to see into the window of the Lightning next to me.

?Whats taking them so long,? I thought to myself.

No sooner had I thought those words, the driver of the Lightning opened his door
and slipped out.

In disbelief I stammered out, ?Bryan???

?Holy shit! I knew that was you!? Was my friend?s reply.

It was Bryan, from back home, I couldn?t believe he was in front of me. But out
here in Arizona? At this gas station? At this time of day?

?Shit man,? he said, ?We all had been wondering what the hell happen to you that night at
the shore, you just up and vanished. No one had any clue where you went.?

?I....for lack of a better explanation....ran away,? I said.

?Ran away?? He took notice of my ?Ranha?s weapons, but did not comment on them.

I heard the doors of the other car?s shut, and a number of familiar voices let out
various greetings.

?Hey slapnuts! Where the fuck you been?? Jack bellowed as he exited his white Pan-Am.

?Yo,? and a nod was the greeting I got from John when he slammed the door of his
Sovereign.

?Satan hast brought us together again! Motherfucken metal!? Mark screamed as he
jumped from his Palomino and ran up to kneel in front of my ?Ranah, both hands now
giving the devil metal sign.

We all began exchanging stories and asking questions. Most of the time I was
answering them instead of asking. I told them why I left, how I had gotten my hands on
the Piranha. It should have felt great to see them all again, but something did not seem
right, everything was moving really fast like I wasn?t talking to old friends, but just passers
by that I didn?t know at all. They had given themselves handles. Bryan called himself Pit-
Viper, John was Pimpy Jones, Jack was White Speed Bird (A name I found rather long
but also descriptive), Mark called himself Satan 7. All of the names seemed to ring a bell,
but I couldn?t quite figure out where I heard them.

?So your that vigilante Redline Fox?? Bryan asked.

?Yeah...that would be me.? I said with good spirit.

However, something about their face?s and posture seemed a little strange. I was
thrilled to see them all again, but it seemed they where not as enthusiastic as me, almost
suspicious. They obviously new a little about me, the new me, Redline Fox. However,
discussion was steered away from that, we talked about old times back in Jersey. John
suggested we all go party and get hammered.

Still apprehensive, I tagged along with the four of them back to their base of
operations. A run down collection of trailers out in the middle of the nowhere deserts of
Arizona. The trailers where arranged in a circle with a shack of a garage in the center;
inside the garage was another white Pan-Am with a pair of .30 caliber guns on the roof.
Jack told me how he just liked racing, normally he didn?t get involved in fights. His cars
where fast though, with good countermeasures like flares and chaff launchers, he could
defiantly get himself out of a bad situation without even having to fire a shot.

We all gathered in the largest trailer, a brownish dilapidated structure, with a small
television that showed more static then picture. The couch I sat on smelled of a cheap
booze and cigarettes. The tattered collection of porno magazines on the coffee table gave
the room a over all depressing and dirty atmosphere.

It had only been a hour, but everyone was already piss drunk and carrying on like
complete idiots. Bryan was breaking dishes for no reason, when the door burst open. Matt
and Paul both came running in announcing they had marijuana for everyone to smoke. As
in the past, I declined smoking, since I was already a little buzzed from the cheap beer they
had in the rusty fridge. I chatted with the two of them, but they seemed more interested in
getting high then catching up with me. Conversation between me and the rest of them was
fairly small. Something was just wrong, but I didn?t understand what, and I didn?t
understand why I was getting the cold shoulder.

Growing tired, I found my way drunkenly to a back room and fell asleep on a ratty
bed.

?What should we do with him?? a voice whispered looking in on the sleeping vigilante.

?We should kill him right now...,? the silver barrel of a .45 gleamed in the dim moonlight
streaming into the windows.

?Dude, its him....what?s wrong with you guys....ya act like we never even new him.?
someone said in confused concern.

?Look, he is a fucken vigilante, if he finds out what we are doing out here, he?ll prove to
be a problem. We should eliminate the threat now.? another voice said with malice.

?You guys are complete assholes! I won?t be a part of this bullshit.?

?Then go wait outside!

I heard them talking, each damning word they said was like a knife being stabbed
into my heart. These where supposed to be my friends, but they were ready to kill me in
my sleep, for what? What to them was so damn important? Christ, they were nothing but
creepers now, creepers! I wasn?t about to let myself be taken out like this, no friken way. I
heard them approaching. One of them must have had some type of plastic in their hands,
because I heard the crumpling as it was opened large enough to fit over my head.
Someone must have had the idea to suffocate me instead of just shooting me clean in the
head. I had left my .45 in the car, but I had a small .22 revolver strapped to my leg.
Suddenly, one of them tripped and fell into the one holding the .45. A shot went off, I
took the chance to unholster my gun. They all yelled in surprise as I firee off all six shots
in rapid succession. Even though it was point blank range, I hadn?t managed to nail any of
them before I sprang up and crashed through the window next to the bed.

I hit the ground outside hard, bruising my shoulder, but luckily no cuts from the
shattered glass. As I made a mad dash for my ?Ranha, I threw my .22 back into the broken
window just as John poked his head out. The barrel of the gun hit him hard in the face,
and he reeled back cursing.

The window of my car was open, so I didn?t even bother opening the door and
dove in. Situating myself into the driver?s seat, I turned the ignition and watched as the
on-board read outs came on. Ammo was full, almost full tank of gas, armor was up to full.
When they all came charging out the trailer door, I hit the accelerator to the floor,
spinning my tires in the soft sand, doing donuts to send dirt and rocks flying at them. I
straightened the car out, fishtailing away from them as they fell over each other looking
for cover. Jack?s white Pan-Am was missing, which must have meant he was the one who
didn?t want any part of my murder. A pair of dim red tail lights marked the Pan-Am up
ahead of me on the dusty dark dirt road.

The CB suddenly crackled to life, Jack?s nervous voice came over it.

?Look man, I didn?t plan this...all right...I had nothing to do with this shit.? he said.

Apathetically, I replied, ?You better get out of here, because I?ve just picked up your
friends on radar.?

The highway was just ahead. As we both fishtailed onto the tarmac, Jack headed
south, while I headed north. Many voices now came over the CB, they called each other
using their handles.

?White Speed Bird, this is Pit Viper, where the hell is that fucker!?, Bryan?s voice barked
out in a rage.

Jack, must have been considering what to do. He really didn?t want to sell me out;
the brief silence was broken by my own voice.

?This is Redline Fox, I am heading North. If you want to kill me, your going to have to
earn it, I don?t go down that easy.?

?Your going to die bitch, your still the same loser we all knew back in Jersey.? John said
with malice and contempt.

?Waste not your time with worthless words.? I taunted.

John laughed, ?Fucken moron.?

Bryan broke in, ?Thats enough bullshit. Pimpy Jones, Satan 7...?

Matt and Paul?s voices both interrupted, ?This is Super Bud and Bong Boy, don?t forget
about us!?

?Christ! just fucken kill him!? Bryan yelled.

I knew I had no chance against all of them, I needed help. My car was fast, but when I
heard the missile warning, I barely reacted in time to fire off heated flares to confuse the
Aim-Neins launched from Pit Viper?s Lightning. Cutting the wheel hard left, my car
skittered along the edge of the asphalt as the missiles traced the defensive flares , collided
with each other then exploded. The speedometer quickly went from 130 mph to below 90
as I slowed to regain control. The car?s tired squealed as I dropped to a lower gear and
activiated the nitrous system. Satan 7?s Palo was catching up to me, but wasn?t close
enough to use the flame-throwers. I could?nt let them slow me down, or I?d be charcoal
for Satan7?s lurid number of flamethowers. Pimpy Jone?s Sov was far behind, to slow to
keep up with the high speed chase, but the Sov?s heavy firepower still worried me.

The warning came again, I reacted quickly but this time I was a victum of
randomness. Missles are not alway accurate, everyone is aware of that. But neither are
countermeasures...the flares must not have burned hot enough. I took a glancing blow
when the missiles exploded right above me, sending a piece of shrapnel through my roof,
and another piece into my intake manifold. With the manifold damaged, my ?Ranha sucked
at the air like a choking dog. The Palomino would be able to catch me now. I took a sharp
turn onto a dirt access road. If I couldn?t out run them, I could still out drive them. The
road was bumpy and the car bounced violently.

I punched the button on the CB-mic, ?This is Redline Fox, Code Six-pack! Code
Six-pack! I?m under heavy attack by four heavily armed creepers! I need assistance from
anyone in the area! Repeat this is Redline Fox, and I am under heavy attack! I need
assistance now or I am going to be a Flatline Fox!!?

I let my fire dropper loose, hoping the dust would conceal the deadly substance on
the road. To my surprise, I turned around to see that the Palo was no longer behind me, in
fact, only one blip was still on my radar and it was heading towards me head on.
Somehow Pimpy, had taken a short cut and was about to intercept me. Mortar fire began
falling around me, as the orange Sovereign?s headlights switched on taking aim. As I
frantically cut the wheel and headed off-road, the CB finally came alive with a friendly
voice.

?Roger that call for help Redline, this is jilljoe, I?ve got Ace English of GUN and Buck
Nazareth with me. What?s your position??

I growled back, ?I?m in the middle of fucken nowhere! I see some lights to the South of
me...looks like a town. I?m not doing too well out here.?

Pit Viper?s Lightning came out of nowhere, scoring a few hits with a forward
mounted .50 caliber. I let off a few rounds of my 7.62mm in reply, causing him to veer off,
and allowing me to score a glancing blow with one of my rear firing rockets.

Ace English, ?I?ve got a idea of where your at mate, hang tight, we are on our way,
scuttle back to the highway if you can.?

?Copy English.? I replied.

Cutting the wheel sharply, Satan7?s hood mounted flame-throwers barely missing
by driver?s door, the Piranha did a 180, pointing back towards the main road. Pimpy
Jone?s orange Sovereign ended up head on with me again, I fired my weapons as soon as
my brain registered him as a target. 7.62mm gun fire and rocket?s flew towards his car,
causing him to veer of the dirt road out of my way.

I?m not sure who said, ?Son of a bitch!? over the CB, but I wasn?t really
concerned about it either. I could see the highway just up ahead, and a pair of headlights
waiting for me.

?This is Super Bud and his side kick Bong Boy! He?s coming right at us!? Another voice
chimed in, ?We going to stomp his head!?

This was turning into a regular goddamn circus. Barely visible was the silhouette
of their Pheadra Pony, which I quickly could tell had a 30mm cannon mounted on its roof
when I heard a loud boom and a pair of streaking yellow lights flew just past my passenger
side door, one so close it took my side view mirror off. Weaving the car back and forth in
a attempt to avoid the slow firing cannons, I managed to make it to the highway without
getting blasted. Not wanting to engage the green Pony with the rest of them right on my
ass, I turned South towards the lights, in the hopes that Ace, jilljoe, and Buck would get
to me before they did.

The Pony gave chase, sending cannon fire whizzing by me. Once again my fire
dropper was put to use, along with my rear mounted rockets. As I laid the fire along the
road, weaving back and forth to force them to do the same, the rockets scored a number
of hits before the Pony suddenly swerved hard off the road and into a telephone poll.

Pit Viper, ?What happen? Super Bud what did you do??

?I just smashed my car into a telephone pole...? was the reply, ?::cough:: shit!?

I looked in my rear view to see a pair of figures scramble out of the Pony right
before the telephone pole snapped in half and fell crushing the car?s roof in. The rest of
them found their way to the road, and now gave chase. The Lightning must have been out
of missiles, or else he would have used them. The Palomino quickly started gaining on my
injured car.

?Over! This is Redline Fox! I am going to be dead!..You hear me dead! If you don?t get
the hell to me quick!.?

My radar suddenly beeped with three new blips.

?Relax Fox, de cavalry has arrived!? Buck Nazareth?s voice came over the CB.

Followed by jilljoe, ?Locked and loaded.?

Then finally Ace English, ?Tally-ho boys!.?

With them coming at me head on it took some real heads up action on all our parts
for me to be able to thread between them. Buck was in a Quicksilver Catamount, jilljoe a
ABX Strider, and Ace English in his venerable Palomino. The three of them formed up
side by side, blocking the road, then opened up with all their forward weapons. Satan7
didn?t even have time to react as a constant wave of bullets ripped into his Palomino. His
car seemed to hit a wall, (which technically it did, a wall of death), the Palo just suddenly
exploded, momentum causing the debris to continue forward. Pimpy Jones slammed the
breaks of his Sov, then started back-peddling in reverse, he fired his mortars and heavy
cannons causing Buck, jj, and Ace E to scatter to avoid taking damage. Pit Viper took his
Lighting off-road briefly to get around my back up, then resumed his chase on me.

Pimpy came over the CB frantically, ?Where the fuck are you going!? I can?t hold them all
off myself!!?

No reply came back.

?Asshole! What are you doing!??

Ace English?s voice retorted, ?Seems your friend is not concerned with you. Life is cheap
among Creepers.?

Pimpy went to reply, ?Fuck y....?

His pathetic insult was cut short as Ace English fired his pair of 7.62mm machine
guns into the orange Sovereigns driver?s side door. Ace told me that the Sov never
exploded, it just rolled to a slow stop and stalled. In the meantime, Pit Viper was closing
in on me, my car?s engine was overheating. I had taken a good amount of damage already.
Firing off my remaining rockets kept him at bay, that is until they ran out. My fire dropper
was out as well, so if I wanted to have a chance, I?d have to use my forward weapons. I
was ready to spin the car into reverse when he got my attention on the CB.

?Hey chump, your car don?t seem to be doing to well,? he mocked. ?What you say we
settle this like we used to back in Jersey? Ya know, a good old fashion hand to hand
brawl. First one to die losses!? He chuckled maniacally.

I took a moment to consider before replying, ?I?m willing to accept your challenge. but
how do I know your not just trying to get me out of the car so you can run me down??

?Hehe. You?ll just have to trust me.?

I paused for a moment. Even with my car?s engine damaged, I still stood a good
chance of defeating him in auto-combat. Even without my fellow vigilantes on the scene to
back me up, my confidence was strong in the Piranha?s ability to see me through. But
something in me wanted to take this battle hand to hand. Most of the creepers I fought so
far were nothing more then the cars they drove. At times, I never even saw their faces
before the trigger was pulled and the acts of violence committed. But this was different,
this was personal.

?Alright Bryan....? I drew in a deep breath, ?Lets go.?

?Excellent.? he said.

I slammed on my brakes, spinning the ?Ranha around 180 degrees to a stop. Bryan
was true to his word, slowly rolling his jet black Dover Lightning up to me; then he
stopped as well. I saw him light a cigarette, then take a few long drags of it as our car?s
sat in the middle of the dark desert road face to face like vicious dogs wishing only to rip
the other apart, being kept in check by the thin leash of their master?s will.

Bryan threw his cigarette out the car window, then stepped out smooth and
purposefully. He wore all black, and if not for the full moon and cloudless sky, his thin
frame would have been difficult to make out. He started stretching his legs out on the
hood of the Lightning when I stepped out. I unholstered my .45, waved it in front of him,
then threw it on the driver?s seat before shutting the door. He smirked, then pulled out his
own pistol while still holding a leg up, tossing it on the roof of his car. I did my own
stretching, but kept it more mental then psychical. I couldn?t let my emotions control me
right now, deep down I was still confused and saddened by what was happening, but if I
was going to suffer through more sorrow, it would have to be saved for later.

He finished stretching, then said smugly, ?Just like old times. Shame I have to kill you
bitch, we had some good times.?

I nodded, ?We don?t have to do this, it can end right now. I won?t turn you in.?

For a moment, it seemed he was considering my words, but I knew he was just sizing me
up when he said, ?Naw. I think I?ll just murder you right now.?

No sooner had he spoken, then he attacked. Caught off-guard, he managed to
bring a roundhouse kick across my head. It was only a glancing blow, but it stunned me
enough that I stumbled backwards and fell to one knee. He wasted no time in pressing
home his attack. Running up, he tried to kick me in the face while I was looking down, but
I crossed my arms to block before impact. Without thinking I stood up quickly, crashing
the top of my head into his lower jaw. It was not the best move, for in doing it I managed
to give myself a fair jolt of pain. However, it was enough to force him to back off, so I had
time to get my bearings. He spit a mouthful of blood out, the blow must have caused him
to bite his tongue.

?Basterd,? He cursed.

It made no sense to reply to any more of this words. I waited defensively for him
to attack again. He slowly came at me, carefully throwing a few mock punches and
fainting a charge. We danced around each other in semi circle, he suddenly moved in with
a low forward kick, forcing me to dodge to one side. He tried to followed it up with a leg
sweep, but I easily jumped back away from it. I didn?t expect him to continue his attack
though and I allowed myself to be distracted by the headlights of my fellow vigilantes
approaching. He landed a hard downward kick on my knee, which made me almost loose
my balance. He then hit me hard in the face with a one-two combo before relenting. The
haze from the blows quickly dissipated. The others had arrived, the headlights flooding
our small battle ground with light. They didn?t interfere though, they knew what was
happening.

?My turn,? I growled.

With a roar I flung my shoulder into him to force him backwards. As he
backpedaled, I landed punch after punch into his body, finally backing off for a split
second to gather up all my force in a final fierce blow to his solorplexes.

He let out a strained, ?oofff....?

With a thud, he doubled over and fell to the black tarmac. I could have tried to
finish him off, but I stopped myself. In retrospect, I don?t regret it, I was giving him a final
chance to give up. I really didn?t want to kill someone that if not anymore, was at least at
one time my good friend. It was a mistake though, I should have known he would have
something up his sleeve, literally. He pulled out a switch-blade then stabbed me in the
thigh. Yowling with pain I refexively smashed my fist into this face. Having been stunned
he could not stand up quickly. This gave me a chance to grab his arm when he went to
stab me in the throat. I threw a punch into his chest, landing it, but also ending up with it
locked in his other arm?s grasp. We stood there, our bodies shaking with as much strength
we could muster in attempt to turn the knife on the each other.

He kicked me in the knee again and I fell backwards onto the brown hood of Buck
Nazareth?s Quicksilver Catamount. With both hands on the knife, he brought it down at
me with all his weight. With a snap roll, I dug into my pocket for my keys. One of which I
had sharpened into a extremely sharp point. When his knife skittered of the Catamount?s
hood, I jammed the sharpened key into his left ear. With a scream he stumbled away from
me trying to pull the key from the side of his head.

He started walking into the desert, obviously I had penetrated the part of his ear
that affected his balance, because he did not seem to know where he was. I took his pistol
from the Lightning?s roof.

?Hey...? I said.

He whirled around, he looked surprise to even see me.

?So much for old times...? I said flatly.

Three shots echoed in the darkness in rapid succession. Pit Viper was dead, his
body growing cold, before it hit the ground. A dreary lonely howl came from far away in
the night. The coyotes knew what gunshots meant, they had become used to them ever
since the war had come to the Southwest. They knew there would be a meal waiting for
them, they could probably smell the blood already. Jilljoe exited his Strider, and came up
to me with a beaming smile. There jackel god, I gave you another gift!. I thought as I
threw the gun away.

?You sure showed that creeper what?s for Redline Fox.? He said patting me on the back.
?Nice trick with key, think I...? he stopped in mid-sentence when I shoved him away from
me.
I knew I was going to be sick, and I didn?t want anyone to be around when it
happen. Getting back in my Piranha, I slammed the door. The engine wouldn?t turn over
right away, as it tried to suck in enough air to ignite the combustion chambers. With a
knocking sound, it finally started.

The CB crackled with Ace English?s voice,? RLF, are you ok? Redline? Redline? Redline
are you ok answer me mate!?

The End