And we are VERY near the end!
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Chapter 6
The loudspeakers blared out the lockdown alert as Paul and Dr. Kerzach dashed through the hallways of the clerical area. The guards had been mobilized as well and were busy blocking the entrances to the refinery and inspecting the workers’ vehicles. Unfortunately, Paul and Dr. Kerzach were stopped several times by the overzealous guards but the “Head of Security” badges loaned to the two by the actual heads of security proved effective in cutting the time lost to a minimum.
“Do we have anything that can stop a truck?” Dr. Kerzach asked as the two were running down the halls. Even though Dr. Kerzach was capable of exceeding twenty eight miles per hour at a full sprint, he decided to slow down out of courtesy to Paul.
Paul shook his head. “This ain’t Pelvanida. The guards here carry shotguns at most. We don’t have weapons designed to take down vehicles,” he replied. He cursed the fact that he could not move as fast as a being with legs.
“So why are we going to the smelting area? Are we going to pour molten metal on the trucks or something?”
“I didn’t say we take the trucks down with a weapon,” Paul replied.
Dr. Kerzach swore. Maybe partnering with Paul was not the best idea.
His thoughts were cut short when the two entered the smelting area, which was still busy despite the lockdown.
Paul looked around for the object they would need. He spotted it on the opposite side of the smelting floor, chained to a small steel post sunk into the concrete floor.
“That’s what we’ll use to stop the trucks!” Paul said.
Dr. Kerzach looked at the object. Thanks to his avian vision, he could clearly tell that it was an industrial mounted shotgun designed for breaking up slag deposits chambered in 8-gauge, made by Remington and fired by means of a crank system like an early Gatling gun. I gotta hand it to him; I never thought that shotgun would be used in such a manner. He thought.
“Yuri, get ammo for the gun. I’ll deal with the gun itself,” Paul said.
Dr. Kerzach nodded and headed off to the storeroom while Paul moved to the actual gun.
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Dr. Kerzach found the storeroom. He found that the door was locked but he managed to cajole another worker into opening the storeroom for him. He entered and looked around. The shelves were stacked with cleaning supplies, tools, lubricants and in the corner, a pallet filled with 200 round cases of the 8-gauge shells. He found a hand truck tucked in the corner and started stacking up a few of the cases.
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Paul examined the shotgun to make sure that it was undamaged. He swore as he forgot to fetch a pair of bolt cutters. He turned around to head to the closet when Dr. Kerzach approached him with a hand truck filled with the shotgun shells and a set of 48 inch bolt cutters.
“Paul, I’ve got the ammo,” Dr. Kerzach said. “And the bolt cutters.”
Paul took the bolt cutters and quickly cut the chain securing the shotgun to the pole.
He tossed the chain and bolt cutter aside. “Let’s move!” he said.
Dr. Kerzach wheeled the hand truck with the ammunition out the smelting zone’s other exit. Paul followed with the mounted shotgun.
When they got there, they spotted the exit blocked off by two shotgun toting guards.
“Damn it,” Dr. Kerzach muttered.
“Allow me,” Paul said, wheeling the shotgun past the two guards.
“Halt! This building is under lockdown! You may not leave!” the first guard, a burly English Bulldog, said.
“Excuse me, but this mounted shotgun is to be carried over to the repair shop.”
The guard frowned. “All right, who is your avian buddy with all those shotgun shells then?” he demanded.
Paul blanched. “There’s been a recall of that particular batch. Supposed to go to the repair shop for storage until they can be returned. Bad primer or something,” he said. His heart was pounding as he knew that if he was caught in the lie, their chance at stopping Montgomery and his men dropped to zero.
“All right, move along.”
Paul and Dr. Kerzach exited the building into the night air. The high steel fences and harsh lamps of the refinery provided a sharp contrast to the barest hints of dawn.
The two wheeled their supplies over to the repair building. Luckily it was almost completely deserted.
Dr. Kerzach pointed to a large pickup truck parked next to the building. The truck was equipped with a heavy brush guard and dual rear wheels. “We’ll take that truck. Not like we have a choice,” he said.
Paul said nothing but smashed a nearby window with a rock, swept the glass away with a broom that worker had left behind and climbed into the building.
A few minutes later, he returned with the truck’s key, several tie-down straps and a set of goggles. “We’ve got the keys. Now get this vehicle ready,” Paul ordered.
Dr. Kerzach lowered the small ramp that was attached to the truck and Paul pushed the mounted shotgun into the bed. He then got to work securing the shotgun to the bed with the tie-down straps.
Dr. Kerzach then got to work loading the cases of shells into bed of the truck. When he was finished, he then unlocked the doors and got into the driver’s seat.
Paul them donned the set of goggles and climbed into the bed of the truck. He tapped on the back window, which Dr. Kerzach had opened before getting in the driver’s seat. “Move out!” he ordered.
Dr. Kerzach started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot and headed into the freight yard. He was pleasantly surprised at how easily the large truck handled.
“Trouble,” Paul said, as he spotted two guards approaching the truck.
“I’ll handle this,” Dr. Kerzach replied.
“You! Get out of the truck and state your name!” the first guard, a dark skinned Human demanded, leveling a pistol at the cab.
Dr. Kerzach got out of the truck with his hands raised in the air. “I am Yuri Kerzach and I am supposed to be delivering this industrial shotgun to the dealer for routine maintenance,”
The first guard turned to the second guard. “Radio security heads and tell them about this,” he ordered.
The second guard, a Chameleon, unhooked the radio from his belt and contacted the security.
After he got a reply, he then turned back to Dr. Kerzach. “All right, Mr. Kerzach, you are free to go,” the guard said.
Dr. Kerzach thanked them and got back in the cab and peeled out of the parking lot.
As they got on the mostly deserted highway and headed north, Dr. Kerzach suddenly spoke.
“You know, even though I was present when we drove the terrorists from Pelvanida, I still can’t seem to shake this terrible case of nerves,” he said as he stepped on the accelerator, causing the truck to climb beyond 60 miles per hour.
Paul then knocked on the back window. “Slow down! It’s hard to breathe when you drive too fast!” he panted.
Dr. Kerzach set the cruise control for 55 miles per hour and watched the road. His heart was racing as he knew a shootout was inevitable.
“Hey Yuri, try putting on the radio. That may help calm you down,” Paul said as he stuck his head back through the window.
Dr. Kerzach shrugged. Why not? He thought, turning the radio on.
The first piece of music that played was the jovial strains of Holst’s Jupiter began playing over the radio. He chuckled at the totally inappropriate choice of music before he switched stations.
“This is 101.3 KPA, Arizona’s premier atmospheric music station. Next up on the playlist is 760 Millimeters of Mercury by T.O.R.R,” the DJ said.
Dr. Kerzach sighed as switched stations again. He hated atmospheric music.
To his pleasant surprise, Breaking Benjamin’s Blow Me Away came on.
Dr. Kerzach grinned and took a deep breath. He reflected on how well the lyrics fit the situation as he continued down the empty highway. He silently hoped they would not run into any police.
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At the A. Dennison truck stop a few hundred miles from Rara Terra Smelting’s complex, Montgomery and his men were resting and refueling their trucks for the drive to Pelvanida. They had been driving nonstop for nearly four hours.
The truck stop was full of other truckers but none of them suspected that the fleet of plain white tractor trailers with numbers 57 through 71 painted on the side of the cab that had just pulled into the truck stop a few hours ago carried stolen goods.
Montgomery yawned and stretched as he awoke. He got out of the cab, locked it and headed into the truck stop to wash up and get breakfast. He wondered how much time they had lost with Dr. Kerzach’s delay. Several of his men were having coffee and bagels in the cabs of their trucks while others were eating a full breakfast inside the truck stop’s restaurant and still others were refueling their trucks.
He walked through the entrance of the truck stop, passing by a burly Warthog dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. The Warthog scratched his head as he noticed Montgomery’s clothing: a white lab coat and tan pants. He pondered exactly why a doctor or scientist would be driving an 18-wheeler. The trucker decided not to pursue the question further and headed back to his truck.
Montgomery entered the truck stop. It was very clean but it was quite obvious that the building was well worn. Dull brown tiles covered the floor and the concrete walls were painted a dull shade of off-white. He thought about how ugly the building was compared to the gleaming stainless steel and concrete walls of Pelvanida. He entered the bathroom, used facilities and washed up. He then headed for the restaurant.
“Hey Monty! Over here!” one of his men called, waving him over to booth by the window. The restaurant was quite noisy owing to the amount of traffic flowing through it.
He headed over to the booth and sat down next to his men. He cracked open a menu and ordered a combo plate of hash browns and a mushroom omelet. He also ordered a cup of black coffee.
“So do we need to worry about Kerzach and his friend?” a Vulpine worker asked. She was adding some honey to her cup of coffee.
“Bah, we’re hundreds of miles away from the plant. He’ll never catch us,” a Macaw worker said as he ate a piece of bread slathered with peanut butter.
“Don’t be too sure. Remember, he killed one of our men and severely wounded another,” Montgomery said, looking out into the parking lot. He then noticed the waiter carrying over their meals. “Ah, food’s here,” he said as his meal was placed in front of him. He sprinkled some salt over his hash browns and started eating.
The rest of his men dug into their meals with gusto.
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Dr. Kerzach stopped at a gas station to refuel their truck. By the time they found a gas station that also sold diesel fuel, the tank was nearly empty. He was surprised no one paid any attention to the mounted shotgun sitting in the truck’s bed. He attributed it to the fact that “Rara Terra Smelting Repair Division” was prominently printed on both of the truck’s sides and the complex’s address was printed on the truck’s tailgate. .
Paul had gone inside the gas station to use the bathroom and purchase breakfast.
By the time Dr. Kerzach finished fueling the truck and paying for the fuel, Paul had arrived with two bagels and two cups of hot tea.
“Yuri, I’ve got breakfast. Lox and cream cheese or just cream cheese?” Paul asked.
“Give me the cream cheese but I have to go to the bathroom,” Dr. Kerzach replied.
Paul tossed the cream cheese bagel onto the driver’s seat as Dr. Kerzach went to use the bathroom. He then climbed into the backseat and slithered through the open window onto the truck’s bed. He tore off the bagel’s paper wrapper and started eating.
In a few minutes, they had finished their bagels, along with most of their hot tea. Dr. Kerzach started the truck’s engine and pulled out of the gas station.
A sign on the road read: A. Dennison Truck Stop: 75 miles. Nevada Border: 375 miles.
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Montgomery and his men paid for the meal and headed out for their trucks.
Montgomery counted up his men and trucks and noticed that one truck along with two workers had gone missing. “Has anyone seen truck 71?” he asked.
“You mean the one driven by Lu?” a Hispanic man asked. He was leaning against his own truck, number 58.
“That’s the one!”
“Yeah, Lu took it over to the repair shop. Got a flat tire. Gonna take an hour or so to get it fixed.”
“We can’t afford anymore delays!” Montgomery said. “We move on ahead without him!”
“But isn’t that dangerous?” the Macaw asked.
“No. We will wait for him at the next stop in Nevada. Now let’s move out!”
The workers climbed into the trucks, started their engines and followed Montgomery’s truck – number 57 – out of the parking lot.
In minutes, they were out on the highway heading north.
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Two hours later, Lu, a burly Giant Panda, climbed into the cab of truck 71 along with his passenger, a black man named Jackson.
“So where to now?” Jackson asked, fastening his seatbelt.
“Head north. We’ll meet everyone else at the next designated truck stop,” Lu replied, fastening his own seatbelt and pulling out of the parking lot.
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Dr. Kerzach had turned into the A. Dennison truck stop when Paul shouted that one of their targets was on the highway.
He swore and sped through the parking lot and into the exit. He then accelerated, hoping to catch his target, which was just visible in the distance, thanks to his exceptional vision. He turned on the radio to calm himself. Highway to Hell by AC/DC came blasting through the speakers. He noticed that the highway was not open enough for him to floor the accelerator. Several minutes later, the traffic thinned significantly.
“Paul! Keep down! I’m going to floor it!” Dr. Kerzach shouted.
Paul ducked into the truck bed as Dr. Kerzach stepped on the accelerator, sending the truck hurtling past 70 miles per hour. He eased off on the accelerator as soon as he got within range of the truck. “Paul, start shooting!” he shouted.
Paul opened one of the boxes of shotgun shells and loaded one into the chamber. He raised himself up, aimed and fired. The heavy slug tore through the side of the trailer with no resistance. He grabbed a handful of shells, shoved them into his pockets and started feeding them into the gun as fast as he could with one hand while he turned the crank and aimed with the with the other hand. The mounted shotgun boomed as it sent slug after slug at the trailer. The large slugs tore through the thin sheet metal but did nothing to slow the truck down.
Dr. Kerzach tried to keep a constant speed as Paul fired the shotgun. He saw Jackson lean out of the window with Beretta pistol in hand. Dr. Kerzach suddenly braked as a bullet pierced the windshield. Another bullet lodged itself in the headrest of the passenger seat.
Paul crouched down as soon as the shooting began and started to elevate the shotgun. He managed to elevate it over the pickup truck’s cab. He then loaded it and fired a round. The slug tore off the lower portion of the truck’s side mirror but even with the elevation, Paul could not shoot into the cab nor could he angle the shotgun upwards as the pickup truck’s cab was in the way.
“Paul! Aim for the tires!” Dr. Kerzach yelled as he carefully swerved around the pistol fire that issued from the truck.
Paul ducked down yet again to lower the shotgun back to its previous level. He tilted it downwards and started firing as fast as he could feed the gun. Spent shell casings flew from the gun and landed either on the bed or on the road. The heavy slugs tore off pieces of the road as they struck. A huge bang signaled that he had at struck at least one of the tires but the truck was still not slowing down.
He was nearly thrown from the bed when Dr. Kerzach swerved to avoid more pistol fire. Several pistol bullets penetrated the windshield; two narrowly missed Paul as they flew through the back window. The rest had had struck the backseat. Dr. Kerzach continued trying to evade the pistol fire. He ignored the bullet that struck the driver's side mirror.
Suddenly, the pistol fire abated. Dr. Kerzach, figuring that Jackson had to reload, sped up alongside the truck. “Shoot the fuel tank!” Dr. Kerzach ordered.
Paul gladly obeyed, quickly chambering a round and firing at the fuel tank. A fist sized hole appeared in the tank as the slug tore through the thin metal. Diesel fuel began leaking out at a rapid rate.
More pistol fire caused Dr. Kerzach to fall back. Paul drew his own pistol and fired at Jackson. His bullets destroyed the rest of the tractor-trailer’s mirror. Some had actually penetrated the glass on the passenger side. Paul hoped that he had wounded or killed Jackson but a burst of pistol fire that destroyed the pickup truck’s driver side mirror proved him wrong.
“Yuri!” Paul shouted, “Get in front of the truck! I can hit them from there.”
“What?!” Dr. Kerzach shouted, as he swerved to avoid more pistol fire. The rear passenger windows were shattered by gunfire
“Damn it, Yuri! Don’t question! Do it!”
Dr. Kerzach, puzzled sped up and got in front of the semi with plenty of room to spare. Another bullet passed through the rear window and lodged itself in the center console. He kept the speed up.
Paul elevated the shotgun, swiveled it around and started shooting as fast as he could feed ammunition. He aimed for the truck’s radiator, hoping to stop the truck.
The effect of the hail of slugs was devastating. The slugs pulverized the truck’s grille and shredded the radiator behind it. Steam started issuing forth from the punctured radiator and coolant started leaking as Paul continued firing. He inwardly grinned as the truck started slowing down. Lu was desperately trying to keep the truck moving while Jackson was shooting through the windshield of his own truck. Several bullets missed his head and passed into the cab, most of them passing through the windshield while others lodged in the center console. Still some of Jackson’s other shots struck the mounted shotgun, damaging it slightly.
Jackson paused for a moment to reload and he continued shooting. His first few shots flattened two rear tires. Luckily, the truck was still able to move but at slower rate than the tractor trailer bearing down on them. Paul gulped as he saw the truck coming closer, not seeming to slow down even as he poured slug after slug into the radiator.
Eventually, the truck ground to a halt as the engine seized. Dr. Kerzach and Paul were only about fifty feet ahead of the truck, their own vehicle moving at a crawl thanks to fact that two out of the four rear tires were flat thanks to Jackson’s gunfire.
“We did it!” Dr. Kerzach said exuberantly.
“Don’t rejoice just yet!” Paul said as he spotted Lu and Jackson emerged from the cab of their ruined truck. Both of them were carrying Bushmaster carbines and they both looked utterly enraged.
They immediately started shooting at Dr. Kerzach and Paul as they approached them.
Dr. Kerzach stomped on the accelerator only to find out that their truck now moved at a crawl. He turned the truck’s ignition off, pulled the parking brake and leapt from the cab and bolted down the road as fast as he possibly could.
Paul slithered out from the bed and hid under the truck. He carefully watched from underneath the truck as Dr. Kerzach bolted down the road. He heard a gunshot and saw him fall to the ground.
Paul silently swore as rage started building up within him. How dare they kill a Pelvanida employee, let alone a hero!
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“We got that bird!” Jackson said, pumping his fist into the air. Both he and Lu were next to Dr. Kerzach’s pickup truck. The windows and rear passenger doors were pocked with bullet holes. The entire driver’s side mirror was destroyed. Spent shot shells filled the bed of the pickup truck and two of the four rear tires were flat.
Lu changed magazines on his carbine. “What about that snake?” he asked.
“We’ll find him and we’ll kill him.”
“Remember, he can hide in places you can’t fit into so be careful.”
“Bah! He’s a stupid reptile! He can’t think for s---!” Jackson scoffed.
That’s what you think! Paul thought as he cradled his pistol.
Jackson went over to the rear of the truck and knelt down to look underneath it. He ended up coming face to face with Paul.
“Stupid reptile huh?” Paul mocked, flicking his forked tongue in and out as a deliberate attempt to unsettle his opponent. Jackson screamed for a moment before Paul blew his brains out with a near point blank shot. “Adios, motherf---er,” Paul said.
Lu turned around and saw a spray of blood coming forth from behind the pickup truck. He ran back there with his carbine at the ready.
Paul tried to grab the carbine but Lu kicked it away from him put his booted foot on Paul’s body. “I congratulate you, serpent. Two people almost managed to take down one of Dragonstorm’s largest material acquisition operations. I’m impressed but I cannot let you live!” Lu said as he aimed his rifle at Paul. He then continued to torment Paul and prod him with the rifle.
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Dr. Kerzach picked himself up off the rocky ground and dusted himself off. He was very sore from tripping over a rock at almost thirty miles per hour. He was also very hot and was starting to get thirsty as the Arizonian sun was starting to bake the landscape.
He spotted Lu tormenting Paul. He clenched his beak in rage and drew his switchblade. He then charged towards Lu at top speed.
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“Look, if you’re going to kill me, do it instead of talking out of your ass!” Paul snapped.
Lu chuckled. “As you wish,” he replied. He suddenly shrieked in pain and dropped the carbine, at the same time he released his hold on Paul.
Behind him was Dr. Kerzach holding up his bloodied switchblade. “Come on! Let’s go!” he said to Paul.
“No!” Lu shouted. He grabbed his carbine and aimed it at Dr. Kerzach. Before he could fire, Paul rose up and punched him in the groin as hard as possible. The shock from the blow caused him to flinch slightly. That allowed Dr. Kerzach to charge forward and stab Lu in the side.
Lu screamed and batted the switchblade away from Dr. Kerzach, sending it skidding to the dirt. He then tackled Dr. Kerzach, pinning him to the ground and wrapping his hands around Dr. Kerzach’s neck in an attempt to strangle him.
Dr. Kerzach drew his legs under his body and drove both his feet into Lu’s chest as hard as possible. His powerful legs actually sent Lu flying back a foot or two, causing him to land on his back. He took several deep breaths to draw air back into his lungs.
Paul then wrapped his body around Lu and tried to constrict him. Lu groped around for a rock and used it to repeatedly batter Paul’s head but Paul refused to let go.
“Yuri! Get the gun!” Paul shouted as blood poured down his face from the series of fierce blows.
Dr. Kerzach staggered to his feet and rushed to grab the carbine. He prepared to fire but realized that he would end up shooting through Paul and killing him along with Lu. “I can’t. You’re in the way!” he said.
“Do it!” Paul shouted. “He can’t be left alive! And this far from medical help, I’m going to die anyway!” He was using his hands to try and tear at Lu’s eyes but the severe head injury was starting to weaken him.
Dr. Kerzach sighed and opened fire. He was not used to using a firearm, so he ended up expending nearly the entire 35-round magazine. When the dust cleared, Paul and Lu lay dead in pool of blood, their bodies riddled with bullet holes.
Dr. Kerzach tossed the rifle aside. He was breathing heavily. He was unable to process Paul’s last words, essentially ordering Dr. Kerzach to shoot through him to kill the deranged Giant Panda.
He looked at the two bodies, Giant Panda and Anaconda, wrapped in a wrestling match that would end in a fatal tie.
Dr. Kerzach fought back tears. He had just killed someone he knew. Though his time with Paul was short and sometimes rocky, he still though of him as a friend like he did Dr. James Zanasiu.
“Well, Paul would want me to see what’s inside that truck we stopped,” Dr. Kerzach said. Not that there was anyone to hear him.
He entered the cab of the truck, retrieved the keys to the trailer and opened the trailer.
Inside the trailer were hundreds, no thousands, of cinderblocks.
Dr. Kerzach’s eyes widened in horror as dropped the keys. He then fell to his knees and broke down sobbing. He had risked his own life and shot his own friend at his orders. And what did he get for all that trouble? He did not stop a shipment of valuable lanthanide metals that would have been used in Dragonstorm. All he stopped was truck filled with cinderblocks.
He had failed in his mission.
