With the recent release of
Mad Max: Fury Road, I thought it would be fun to look back on a manuscript I've written and post this thrilling action scene, inspired by the original
Road Warrior.
My novel,
Gods Among Men, depicts a future in which superheroes started appearing around the world, and they fought a major war against the human race. In the aftermath, they built a huge walled city, where heroes serve to protect men. Outside of the walled city is a lawless wasteland. In this setting, Troy Gaines is a man who wants to become a superhero, but has no special abilities; he relies on an invention to teleport himself, and to prove his worth, he goes on an investigation that leads him to the desert. Inevitably, he and his partner are captured by a violent wasteland gang. After surviving an arena fight, the two heroes hijack a vehicle and flee. What follows is a sprawling chase scene with vehicular carnage. Hope you enjoy it and have a lovely day!
This is all still part of the rough draft, and may be subject to change. I'm considering making one of the enemy vehicles an ice cream truck.
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Pushing as fast and far as he could, Troy [teleported] himself and Victor to the other side of the camp. They materialized in a penned area, where a number of motorized vehicles were kept. Most of the cars were broken and run-down, left as rusty wrecks sitting in the dusty ground.
Victor took the time to run by the vehicles, and he took in whatever electric energy he could from the batteries left in the cars. Troy ran to a buggy at the far end of the pen; despite its crude construction, the vehicle looked rugged, durable, and more aerodynamic than most of the others. Its wheels were well over two feet wide, with massive heavy treads. The canopy was well-enclosed, and appeared to have a roll-cage installed. Pleased with the vehicle, Troy jumped into it and regarded the dashboard. It was fully-fueled and charged; all he was missing were keys.
Then, a thug came up to the vehicle, dressed in filthy overalls. Troy looked up at the enemy; he was surprised to see that the mechanic was a woman, but even more shocked to see a full beard on her face.
Holding a wrench in her hands, the bearded lady demanded in a husky voice, “Where do you think you’re going, boy?”
Troy smirked and said, “It’s been a charming carnival, but it’s time for us to leave.”
“You’re going nowhere!” the enemy shouted, swinging her wrench at him.
The wrench made contact with the car’s frame, making a loud reverberating clang. Troy seized the mechanic’s hand and pulled on it, slamming her body into the vehicle’s side. While she was close, he reached into her front pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He then shoved her away, and she stumbled into the ground.
Fumbling the keys into the ignition, Troy turned it and started the vehicle up. After several seconds of sputtering, the car hummed to life. Victor ran up to the buggy and exclaimed, “They’re coming, Troy!”
“Get in,” Troy said. “I know I’ve had enough of this place. I never liked the circus anyway.”
Victor hopped into the passenger seat, and Troy rammed his foot into the gas pedal. As the tires spun, they kicked up a huge puff of dust. Jerking forward, the buggy raced through the camp. Driving the car south, Troy ran down several smaller tents, their fabric crumpling beneath the buggy’s huge wheels. Smashing through crates, tables, chairs, and chests full of junk, torrents of broken debris flew off of the buggy’s grille as it plowed forward.
Finally, the buggy cleared the camp and raced toward open land. A pair of towers made of crude scaffolding overlooked the southern border of the camp; snipers in each tower aimed carbines at the buggy as it rushed across the desert. Their shots rang out in the open air, and their bullets ricocheted off of the car’s armor plating and steel framework.
Driving forward for several seconds, the camp fell behind Troy and Victor and became a diminished cluster of specks in the distance. Patting Troy on the back, Victor laughed and said, “Man, that was crazy! I never thought we would have survived that!”
“That makes two of us,” Troy smirked. “How much electricity did you gather back there?”
“Maybe five kilowatts. It’s a little hard to draw power from vehicles that aren’t running.”
“What can five kilowatts do?”
“Aside from running a few cars? It could give a bad guy a good shock, or run a good-sized electric appliance. It could fill up your teleporter’s power reserve a good ways. Should I give you a charge?”
“Sure,” Troy said. “But I plan on saving it for when we really need it.”
Victor planted is hand on Troy’s chest, and transferred electricity into his vest. With electricity gently leaking from Victor’s hands, Troy squirmed and said, “It tingles.”
“So, do you have any idea where we’re going from here?” Victor asked.
“Anywhere but the Carnival. I’m hoping the Tierra de Muerta is ahead.”
Suddenly, loud gunshots could be heard echoing through the air behind them. Turning, Victor saw a narrow hovercraft gliding over the desert toward them. As it zoomed over the flat land, it left a trail of dust in its wake. The vehicle was as crudely-built as the other Carnival vehicles, and there were several gangsters lined up along its railings with guns in their hands.
Looking in the rear-view mirror, Troy saw more dust trails in the distance behind them. Even though they had a strong head start, the Carnival was relentlessly chasing them with their full fleet of vehicles. It would only be a matter of time before they caught up to them.
Pulling ahead, the hovercraft kept pace with the buggy, while the goons onboard started shooting at Troy. A hail of bullets rushed at the buggy, ricocheting off of the metal plating and framework with loud snaps. One shot came close to Troy’s head, whistling past his ear.
Swerving away from the hovercraft, Troy gained distance from it. The buggy suddenly rolled over a hill; the vehicle bounced heavily as it jumped from the hill and landed on the ground again. Troy and Victor were roughly jostled in their seats.
Watching the hovercraft, Victor said, “Take us closer. That thing is producing a good amount of power.”
Steering the buggy toward the hovercraft, Troy brought the vehicle side-by-side with the hovercraft. As he came closer, one of the gangsters jumped over and landed on the buggy’s roof. The enemy held on tightly to the frame, fighting against the rushing air and the buggy’s movements.
Reaching out, Victor sensed the hovercraft’s battery and drained it of its power. Electricity streamed from the vehicle’s hood and into his hands, blasting a smoldering hole in its chassis. When the vehicle ran out of power, its motors stopped working, and it slammed into the ground. Hitting the hard dry ground, the vehicle’s hood was crumpled in, before its body spiraled and spun in the air. All of its passengers were flung off, to land roughly on the ground.
Crawling on the buggy’s roof, the last goon appeared over the vehicle’s canopy. Taking a grenade from his vest, the villain pulled out its pin and dropped it into the buggy’s seat. It landed directly in Victor’s lap; he frantically grasped it and held onto its safety spoon tightly, to keep it from exploding.
With his free hand, Victor pointed to the thug on the roof and released an arc of electricity at him. With a short, high-voltage burst running through his body, the enemy shivered uncontrollably and lost control of his body. Unable to hold onto the buggy, he slipped off and tumbled into the ground behind the vehicle.
Still holding the grenade, Victor frantically cried, “Holy sh&t, what should I do with this?”
“The longer you cook it, the less of a fuse you have,” Troy warned. “Whatever you do, don’t let go.”
Ahead, there was a mesa that rose up sharply from the ground. Troy angled the buggy to the right, hoping to loop around the giant stone mound. As he curved and approached the stone, he saw that their pursuers were cutting across at an angle, trying to flank the buggy. It took only a matter of minutes for the swarm of Carnival vehicles to gain up on the buggy.
One enemy car bounced across the desert and cut in front of the buggy. As the car straightened, it fishtailed erratically, throwing a plume of dust up in front of the buggy. With the cloud stinging his eyes and filling his nostrils, Troy veered out of the car’s trail and pulled up beside it. With the car driving in between the buggy and the mesa’s cliff face, the car was sandwiched. Troy veered into the car and sideswiped it, sending it careening into the cliff side. As its side scraped against the rock, its panels were crunched in, before the car flipped and landed on its roof. The car skidded to a halt upside down.
Looking into the mirror, Troy saw several other vehicles chasing him; they all rolled in line behind him and started driving parallel to the mesa’s side. One of the trucks rammed into the crashed car, making it spin and throw shrapnel all around.
As the enemy vehicles chased the buggy, a number of goons stood and leaned out of their vehicles and fired their guns at Troy. Bullets zoomed past the buggy, occasionally ricocheting off of the buggy’s side and blasting holes in the side of the mesa. Troy weaved the vehicle side-to-side to evade the gunfire.
Still holding onto the grenade with one hand, Victor used his free hand to peel off a part of his rubber suit. He carefully wrapped the piece of rubber around the grenade, so tight that it kept the safety spoon depressed.
An enemy vehicle sped forward and pulled up beside the buggy: a windowless car rigged with large wheels and heavy armor plates. It veered over and rammed the buggy; the impact jerked the vehicle sideways toward the mesa wall. The buggy came within inches of hitting the stone surface; the stone howled past Troy’s ear.
Victor chucked the wrapped grenade at the vehicle; it bounced over the hood and landed directly in the driver’s lap. Panicking, the driver took his hands off the wheel to handle the grenade; the vehicle drifted toward the mesa wall, until the corner of the hood scraped against the rock. As the vehicle fell behind the buggy, the grenade went off, engulfing the entire chassis in fire. Pieces of metal flew from the explosion, bouncing off the ground and landing in the dirt. One metal plate spun into another vehicle, cleaving into the hood and rupturing the engine; the vehicle drifted away with smoke and liquid leaking from its ruptured front.
The buggy continued to drive around the base of the mesa, looping around it until it headed south. Pulling away from the rocky formation, Troy stamped on the gas pedal, and the buggy rocketed forward. The vehicle bounced roughly as it tumbled over rough ground and small hills. As all the enemy vehicles followed Troy in a line, they struggled against the uneven terrain to keep pace. One enemy car launched itself off a small hill and landed on top of a boulder; its front grille flew off as the chassis crunched against the stone.
One of the enemies pulled out a bazooka and aimed it at the buggy. With the rough movements of the cars, the enemy’s aim was erratic. When Troy saw the bazooka’s rocket pointing at him, he slammed on the brakes, and the buggy slid on the dirt. The other cars sped past him, just as the goon fired his bazooka. His rocket blasted away with a plume of smoke, and it struck the ground with a thunderous boom. The projectile left behind a crater, with pieces of dirt and rock raining all around it. One of the other enemy vehicles drove over the hole, causing its wheel to bounce up and send the car rolling onto its side.
Pressing on the gas again, Troy tried to pick up speed again. As the buggy started to roll forward, an enemy jeep rammed him in the rear, causing the buggy to lurch forward. More gunfire erupted, rattling against the buggy’s chassis.
Turning in his seat, Victor leaned his torso out of the window, and reached out toward the vehicle behind them. An electric arc sizzled between his fingers and the jeep; with its power drained, the jeep’s engine died with a sputter.
Still accelerating, Troy kept the gas pedal depressed as he swerved away from the main group of vehicles. As he arced further south, the enemies curved with him; one truck came up beside the buggy, armed with a 50-calibur machine gun on its bed. One of the goons manned the gun and started pummeling the buggy with gunfire; with each thumping of the weapon, giant holes appeared in the buggy’s metal armor plates.
Victor kept his head slumped behind the door panel, but he snaked his arm out the window and discharged an electric bolt. Lightning shot from his fingers and touched the machine gun; electricity curled around the weapon and ran through the gunman’s hands, making him shudder and convulse. As he shook, he fell to his knees, and swung the machine gun forward. As his finger muscles contracted, he gripped the gun’s trigger tighter, sending gunshots into the driver’s seat. A splash of blood shot across the hood, before the truck drifted away from the buggy. Rolling over a hump, the truck flew briefly in the air, before it came down into a ditch and landed hard on its side. The sounds of crunching, twisting metal filled the sky.
“That felt good,” Victor remarked. “I’m out of juice though. I need to drain more.”
“Don’t worry, I have some ‘juice’,” Troy winked. “Take the wheel for me.”
“What?”
In an instant, Troy grasped Victor by the shoulder, and they both teleported to trade spots. Finding himself in the driver’s seat so suddenly, Victor swore and frantically grabbed the steering wheel. While he kept the vehicle straight, Troy returned to a vaporous form, and floated out of the buggy.
Flying backwards, Troy’s essence free-floated for an instant, drifting toward one of the pursuing vehicles. He appeared on top of the car’s hood, and he promptly kicked the driver through the open window. Grabbing the steering wheel, Troy jerked it hard, and sent the car veering sharply sideways. He vanished just as the car smashed into another vehicle; both of them rolled and tumbled over the dirt, with metal debris and broken car parts spraying all over the place.
Only two vehicles remained, driving in tandem behind the buggy. One goon stuck his head out of the window of one of the cars and started shooting at Troy’s misty body with a pistol. The bullets pierced the air and passed through Troy’s cloud of particles. Swooping down toward the enemy, Troy appeared for a split-second just outside of the car. In that instant, he grabbed the gun out of the goon’s hands, and vanished with it.
Pushing himself ahead, Troy flew in front of the car and appeared on its hood. No sooner did he appear than the driver swerved the car side-to-side, shaking Troy off of the vehicle. He slid off the hood and teleported before he could hit the ground.
Moving ahead, Troy returned to the buggy and returned to human shape on the roof. With his legs firmly clenched around the vehicle’s frame, Troy aimed his stolen pistol and shot at the car. Sparks flew off the car’s roof as the bullets ricocheted off of it. One shot penetrated the car, passing through the driver’s head and killing him instantly. The passenger frantically grabbed the wheel to keep the vehicle straight.
At that moment, the other enemy car veered in between the two vehicles, directly in front of Troy. Its passenger threw something into the air at Troy; it looked to be a crude pipe bomb. Troy shot it in mid-air; the bullet struck the detonator and it detonated in the air. A puff of fire and smoke filled the air, and quickly fell behind them.
Aiming at the enemy, Troy fired his pistol. Gunshots sparked against the car’s roof with loud pings. After just a few shots, all the bullets ran out, and the gun stopped firing. Tossing the weapon away, Troy teleported himself into the car’s seat.
Appearing in between the driver and the passenger, Troy grabbed both men by their heads and slammed them against the dashboard. While the driver was stunned, Troy seized the passenger and heaved him over the dashboard; he skidded across the hood and fell over the grille. The vehicle bounced as the wheels ran him over.
Recovering from the attack, the driver swung his arm into Troy. Blocking the punch, Troy threw his fist out into the enemy’s cheek. His leg stamped on the driver’s foot, forcing him to depress the accelerator. As the car sped up, Troy grabbed the steering wheel and pulled on it suddenly.
The combination of speed and the sudden turn caused the car to drift across the desert; a trail of dust billowed from the car’s tracks. Its tires struck a large rock, causing it to jump in the air and roll. Even when the car landed, it continued to tumble along its side, its chassis becoming dented and wrecked. One of its tires was flung off, to land fifty yards away.
Teleporting out of the crashing car, Troy strolled on the cracked Earth and watched the vehicle come to a halt. Its twisted hulk made one last groan before it slumped on the ground; the driver hung out of the window with blood dribbling from his mouth.
Turning around, Victor drove the buggy back and pulled up beside Troy. Out the window, Victor said, “You do have this habit of leaping before looking.”
“Nonsense,” Troy smirked. “I do both at the same time.”
“How much power do you have left?”
Checking his wrist meter, Troy replied, “None.”
“I figured as much.”
“Don’t worry, it’s power well-spent. How much gas does the buggy have left?”
“About half a tank. It’s a real gas-guzzler, and I doubt we’ll be able to find a usable gas pump anywhere.”
“The nearest town I know of is Blood Gulch…probably a good five hundred miles to the east. Do you think we can make it?”
“Not in this beast,” Victor sighed. “No matter what we do, I think we will have no choice but to walk some of the way. I don’t know about you, but my desert survivalist skills aren’t that great.”
“Surviving in the wastelands isn’t hard, as long as you know what you’re doing,” Troy said, as he went around the vehicle and got in through the passenger door. “I grew up out here, so the desert doesn’t scare me. If we want to preserve gas, I recommend putting this thing into neutral and letting it roll for a while.”
As instructed, Victor drove the buggy a short distance before shutting off the engine and letting it run on neutral. The vehicle traversed a good ten miles on its own momentum, treading on the flat landscape. It rolled down a hill and gained substantial speed and distance.
Crossing another flat stretch of empty wastes, Victor probed, “So, was gas rare in your home town?”
“It’s rare everywhere. Why else do you think all city vehicles run on hydrogen fuel cells?”
“I mean, gas-powered cars are still used heavily out here, so you got to have a healthy supply of oil somewhere, right?”
“It’s all mostly scavenged from pre-war reserves, ruined gas stations, or the occasional wrecked tanker. Most of it is plundered by the various gangs and warlords all over the desert; another commodity they can control and sell to the various towns and settlements all over the place. There was a community that once took control of a working oil pump, but it was overrun by a gang, and it fell under the control of a man named Gordon Thurgs. He pumped the well completely dry, and that was the last of the oil that can ever be produced in this country. Whatever is left to be found out there are likely hoarded by gangs, like these Carnival freaks, for their own pleasure.”
“It makes me wonder what will happen when the very last of the oil in the wasteland is gone.”
“You’d be surprised as to how well people can adapt in the wasteland. Some of the cleverest people have already adopted electric vehicles. There are plenty of talented inventors and engineers who have built solar-power or fuel-cell vehicles using only scavenged parts.”
“Really?”
“How do you think my teleporter was made?” Troy indicated. “Good old Nash, he could make something out of anything. Some people called him the ‘Alchemist of the Wastes’ because of his skill.”
“If this Nash guy was so smart, why didn’t he make your suit solar-powered or anything?”
“This was the prototype, he said. He wanted to develop this design further, to incorporate the possibility of alternate methods of power regeneration. As it is, he said this thin, flimsy design only permitted dynamic motion generation. At the time, I felt it was more than enough for me.”
“You know, when I look back at what happened, I still feel a little p!ssed off that you led us all on,” Victor scorned. “If I knew that you were just another guy, we could have taken a Pantheon airship all the way out here.”
“We probably could have taken one regardless,” Troy sighed. “I was a little overconfident in the integrity of my own equipment. Understanding that none of us could have predicted what happened, I think it’s best to just forget about it, and focus on what we’re going to do now.”
“What are we going to do? Even if we find this Tierra de Muerta, how will we ever get back to Theopolis?”
“That is a question that is best left to fate, for we have no idea what we’ll find in the Tierra de Muerta.”
“Things would be a lot easier if your teleporter got fixed,” Victor suggested. “Any ideas about that?”
“We’d have to find Nash,” Troy explained. “I hope he’s still hanging around in Roswell. Of course, that’s a good distance past Blood Gulch, probably a good six hundred miles away.”
“There’s just nothing close, is there?” Victor sighed. “Alright, let’s just wait and see what comes up ahead here.”
For the next few miles, Victor continued to let the buggy coast along the flat, arid desert. When the vehicle slowed down too much, Troy and Victor both pushed in the buggy until it gained speed, and jumped into the seats. They continued in this fashion for another ten miles.
It was well after noon before they stopped the vehicle completely. Coming up to a cluster of cacti, Victor pressed on the brakes, while Troy jumped out of the buggy. He took the knife he had pocketed from the Carnival, and cut into one of the cactus. Water spurted from the stem immediately; Troy gathered some of it in his hand and slurped it. He then cut off a larger chunk of the stem and passed it to Victor, who sucked out its water and bit into its inside.
While they rested and ate, Troy became aware of a noise from the distance. It was the airy roar of a motorized vehicle, still far away from them. Looking to the horizon behind them, Troy could see a small trail of dust rising from the horizon, coming from a large black speck. The speck grew bigger as it came closer, and Troy realized with dread that it was another Carnival vehicle. It was particularly large and fast, and grew more menacing in appearance as it came closer.
Seeing the approaching vehicle, Victor immediately started up the buggy, and Troy jumped in. They took off at full throttle, frantic and desperate. Even after all the miles they had covered and all the enemies they eliminated, they were still being pursued.
