Nolan's Ark Page 17

  Nolan was pushed up the ramp and he staggered clumsily onto Jaws.

  Rage was waiting for him on the yellow brick road. His hands were clasped behind his back and he was smiling as Nolan entered the bus. The President’s tailor made suit was immaculate, just as it had been at the Paramount party earlier that evening.

  Nolan’s hands curled into fists. He could feel his blood boiling just looking at the bastard.

  Blaze and a squad of SS monkeys formed a neat triangle formation at the boss’s back. The light was dim and the people inside Jaws were reduced to grainy, featureless shadows

  The Grim Lords who’s transported Nolan stayed by the door. They’d taken both his H&K and the spiked bat.

  “Hello again Mr. Nolan,” Rage said. “That’s a nice costume you’re wearing. Strangely appropriate considering what’s happened tonight.”

  “Thanks,” Nolan said.

  The President pulled a handkerchief out of his breast pocket. He offered it to Nolan.

  “You’ve got blood on your face,” he said.

  Nolan lowered his bandana. He almost wretched as the scent of whiskey and stale smoke shot up his nose.

  “Jesus,” he said, lifting his bandana up again. “Must have been quite a party in here while the world burned.”

  He took the handkerchief off Rage and dabbed at a small cut under his left eye. As he did so Nolan made out the shape of two people sitting in the back apartment. It was too dark to make out much but Nolan thought it looked like two women. They were leaning their heads out of the furthest booth like two eavesdroppers, no doubt trying to listen in on what was happening elsewhere.

  One of the bikers – an older man with a skull tattoo on his neck – climbed aboard Jaws, barging his way past Nolan. He took his place with the President’s inner circle.

  Nolan saw Blaze give this man a poisonous stare. Like he was a cockroach crawling over his kid’s first birthday cake.

  The biker leaned closer to Rage and spoke in a gruff, quiet voice. “He wouldn’t come quietly Mr. President sir so my brothers had to persuade him and they did so, but at great cost.”

  “I won’t forget it Eddie,” Rage said, keeping his eyes on Nolan as he spoke. “When the time comes you’ll be heavily rewarded. That’s a promise.”

  Eddie nodded. “Uh-huh.” His hateful eyes turned back to the prisoner.

  “Why am I here?” Nolan asked, dropping the bloody handkerchief on the floor.

  Rage’s eyebrows stood up. “You mean you didn’t come all this way to vote Mr. Nolan?”

  “Not quite.”

  “I’m hurt,” Rage said. “Then tell me Mr. Nolan, if you didn’t come here to vote then why did you? Hmm? You’ve cost me a lot of trouble tonight. You know that don’t you? The voters that we worked so hard to gather here have run off because of you. My election is now in jeopardy, which means the future of this country is in jeopardy. And…”

  “I came here to kill you,” Nolan said. “But you already know that.”

  As he spoke, Nolan heard Diesel’s final shriek of pain. He saw a dark shape lying in a puddle of blood in the Paramount parking lot and as Nolan’s mind’s eye got closer he saw that Diesel wasn’t the only one there. Vicki was in that dark pool too, shards of windshield glass sticking out of her bloody face.

  Nolan saw Malcolm Campbell sitting beside a picket fence, calling for backup.

  Rage dabbed at something on his shirtsleeve. A bloodstain. “Oh yes,” he said. “I shot your dog didn’t I? So it died?”

  Nolan’s stomach lurched.

  “So that’s why you came after me?” Rage asked, his eyes narrowing. “Because I shot your dog?”

  “Bingo.”

  “Your loyalty is impressive Mr. Nolan,” Rage said, backing off a few paces towards his people. “Hmmm…I have a feeling about you. I have a feeling that you’re a very capable man and that the reason Jezebeth Black isn’t here is because she ran into you tonight. Am I right Mr. Nolan? Did you see her on the campaign trail?”

  “Yes,” Nolan said.

  “Then you did me a favor,” Rage said.

  Nolan smirked. “You were going to kill her anyway.”

  Rage stepped forward again, hands behind his back. He looked like a man deep in thought.

  “I’ll be the first to admit that I wasn’t the best President,” he said. “But that failure of mine applied to a different social context. It applied to that model of society, the one we all know and hate and grew up with. In that model it’s not so much about being a great leader. It’s about looking like a great leader and all the while acting like a fucking saint for the TV cameras. In reality however, saints get crushed. Why doesn’t anyone ever want to admit that Mr. Nolan?”

  “Beats me,” Nolan said.

  “Look – despite everything I’m still king of the hill. I’m actually thriving. Getting stronger with each passing hour. One of the reasons for my success tonight is that I have an eye for talent. Take Eddie and the Grim Lords here. If I hadn’t seen the potential in working with them they’d be dead. They’d be coyote food in the middle of the road. But I did see that potential and they rewarded me with an influx of ready-made votes. I was right about them and I’m right about you Mr. Nolan. We could do wonderful things together in the new America.”

  The biker chief squirmed in the background. What a pity, Nolan thought, that Rage had denied the coyotes.

  “I’m very sorry about what happened to your dog,” Rage said, cautiously approaching Nolan. “In Paramount, I was overly concerned with getting my people to safety. I was upset and I acted rashly.”

  Nolan’s heart was racing. The President was well within punching range.

  One perfectly timed shot…

  “Excuse me Mr. President,” Eddie Knox said. “Pardon my ignorant ass for butting in and all but what do you want to do about all those voters that just ran off into the night?”

  Rage held a finger in the air.

  “You see Mr. Nolan?” he said. “My shepherds are invaluable to me. Get those crowds back here Eddie, do it quickly. Jezebeth might not be coming but my second term will begin with a democratic vote.”

  Eddie walked past Nolan towards the door. They eyeballed each other briefly.

  “While I go back up on the roof,” Rage said, “I’d like you to think about my offer. About joining us instead of killing us. This is not a time for anger Mr. Nolan. Butch. It’s a time to be smart. It’s a time to stay levelheaded and think about the future and where you see yourself in five years time. I hope it’s with me.”

  Rage signaled to a bald-headed SS man at his back.

  “Watch him for me Sam. Take him up the back with Rage’s little toy and that Fontaine woman.”

  Rage passed Nolan on his way to the stairs. As he walked he wiped at the bloodstain on his shirtsleeve. “If you join me,” he said, stopping at the bottom of the staircase. “I’ll get you a new dog.”

  Before Nolan could respond Sam shoved him past Blaze and the SS gorillas and brought him to the lower deck apartment. They approached the fifties-style red and white booth and finally Nolan got a better look at the two eavesdroppers. He saw a thirty or forty-something blonde woman and an auburn haired teenager sitting on the far side of the booth. They were pretending not to be interested as he arrived.

  “In there dickhead,” Sam said, nudging Nolan forward with the pistol barrel. “Sit with the girls where you belong.”

  Nolan sat opposite the eavesdroppers. Sam went over and parked his ass on the nearby couch, sighing ferociously as he did so like a man who hadn’t sat down in twenty years. Nolan took Sam for classic SS. The guy was even wearing shades at night like some of the other douchebags in Team Rage. And like them, Sam’s facial expression had one gear – dour.

  Sam leaned back on the couch, his H&K pointing at Nolan. His eyes blinked slowly as if he wasn’t far from dropping off to sleep.

  Nolan turned away, dabbing at a fresh trickle of blood under his nose. He looked at the girl.

  “Are you Kasey?”

  She frowned.

  “What?”

  “What are you deaf? Is your name Kasey?”

  “Yeah,” she said as if she wasn’t sure. “And you’re Chuck Kowalski right? I mean, your real name is Butch Nolan. Sorry I don’t mean to act weird or fangirl all over you but that costume you’re wearing is rad as fuck man!”

  Her eyebrows stood on end. “How do you know my name?”

  “Your good buddy Axel,” Nolan said.

  Kasey’s jaw dropped. “Axel? He’s alive?”

  “He’s alive,” Nolan said. “He’s on Goliath, hopefully a long way away from Hollywood Boulevard. He came looking for you.”

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Axel?”

  “Yeah,” Nolan said. “Skinny black kid, right? Dodgers cap. Never shuts up. Never does what he’s told.”

  Kasey’s shoulders deflated as if someone had taken a great weight off body and mind. The woman wrapped her arm around the girl and squeezed.

  “Great news huh?”

  “Yeah,” Kasey said, her eyes glistening. She wiped them dry quickly.

  “Are you okay?” the woman asked, taking a closer look at Nolan’s bloody face. “You took a bit of beating, huh?”

  “I’m okay,” Nolan said. It was true – he’d taken his beating but was left with little in the way of significant damage. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

  She extended her hand across the table. “Shirley Fontaine.”

  Nolan shook her hand. “Let me guess. You’re an actress right? Just like everyone else in this town.”

  Shirley laughed. “Guilty your honor,” she said. “Guess I should have stayed in Baltimore, waiting on tables in the Dew Drop Diner. Who knows where I’d be now
, right?”

  “Yeah. At the very least you wouldn’t be here.”

  Kasey leaned forward. “So what do we do?” she whispered. “We’ve gotta get out of here. I have to go find Axel and Shirley’s sister is out there somewhere.”

  Nolan glanced over at Sam, coughing loud enough to get the big man’s attention.

  “Don’t worry about a thing ladies,” Nolan said in a loud, clear voice. “We’ll get out of here. That asshole over there on the couch doesn’t have a clue what’s going on. What’s really going on I mean. If he did, if he saw what was about to happen to him, he’d be running for the hills about now.”

  Sam shifted in his seat, a low-pitched growling noise spilling out of him. The H&K moved closer to Nolan.

  “Shut up you punch drunk loser,” he said.

  Nolan nodded. Then he slowly ran his finger along the table like he was drawing a crude outline of something.

  “You ever watch Goliath Sam? It’s a TV show.”

  Sam threw his head back, howling with laughter.

  “Do I watch Goliath? That piece of garbage? Let me tell you something Nolan – I’d rather swim across piranha-infested waters with a dead fish strapped to my nuts. Jesus Christ. I’m sick of all these fucking zombie shows on TV. Every second show’s a zombie show these days. Zombies, zombies zombies! Who gives a fuck about fucking zombies?”

  “Yeah,” Nolan said, leaning back on the couch. “That’s what I thought. So you’ve never watched any of the behind the scenes featurettes they show at the end of every episode? It’s kind of a mini making of documentary.”

  “Behind the scenes featurettes?” Kasey said. There was a baffled look on her face. “What are you…?”

  “Shut up asshole,” Sam said. “I won’t tell you again.”

  “Yeah sure,” Nolan said. “I was just saying though that the featurettes give you an inside look at everything to do with the show. And the reason I’m saying it is that they go inside the MBTs too, show you around these luxury apartments, one of which we’re sitting in right now. You probably thought the inside of Jaws was as sparse as it looks in the show? Right Sam?”

  “I did,” Kasey said.

  Sam shifted uncomfortably again. It was as if the teeth of his underwear were snapping at his balls.

  “If you watched the featurettes,” Nolan said, “you’d know all about the hidden compartments in here. I mean, they’re literally everywhere. Weapons compartments with AK-47s, M16s, grenades, knives and a lot more. It’s for the show but the weapons we use are real. You knew that right?”

  Nolan was grinning underneath the bandana. “We’re surrounded by hidden guns.”

  But Sam just shook his head and fell backwards against the couch. “You’re so full of shit. You think if this dumb fucking bus was loaded with weapons we wouldn’t have found them by now? You even know who we are? What we do?”

  “Guns Sam,” Nolan said, almost whispering this time. “Guns everywhere.”

  “Pipe down asshole!” Sam barked. He half-stood up and pointed the H&K at Nolan. “Pipe down.”

  “Sure thing,” Nolan said, hands in the air.

  “And stop talking,” Sam said. “Stop talking about hidden weapons and…just stop talking. Period. You’re getting on my nerves.”

  “Well you know something Sam?” Nolan said, lowering his hands. “You’d be absolutely right one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  Outside, Nolan heard a familiar sound in the distance. A diesel turbine engine in full flow – the sweet music of something big getting closer. A pair of headlights, two brilliant white eyes in the dark, crawled down one of the side streets. The lights were expanding, gliding at speed towards Hollywood Boulevard.

  “What?” Sam said. “What am I right about dummy?”

  Nolan slowly reached a hand under the table. “The guns Sam,” Nolan said. “All that stuff about the guns – I just made it up.”

  “Surprise surprise,” Sam grunted.

  “But you know what Sam?”

  “For Christ’s sake. What dickhead?”

  The beast was getting closer.

  “There might not be any AK-47s lying around,” Nolan said. “But there are hidden weapons here.”

  “What the…?”

  Nolan pulled the metal catch under the table towards him. There was a sharp click and in the blink of an eye he flipped the booth table open as if he was lifting up the lid of a giant toolbox. Inside the table there was a tray of kitchen utensils and cutlery.

  There were also some Kunai throwing knives in there. Props from Goliath.

  Nolan’s hand lunged towards the nearest Kunai and he picked it up by the blade, raising it towards his shoulder.

  “What the fuck?” Sam yelled, jumping to his feet.

  But he was too slow.

  Nolan leapt out of the booth, taking two steps forward. His fingers pinched down on the blade. Then he threw straight over the top of his shoulder with all his strength. There was no time to work out distance and rotation like he did when practicing for the show – this was a Hail Mary throw designed to take Sam out before Sam squeezed that trigger.

  The blade landed flush. Sam’s eyes bulged in horror as he looked up at the knife lodged in his skull. He spat out a choking noise and then with blank eyes he took a few drunken steps down the aisle before dropping dead.

  Nolan saw Goliath racing towards Jaws at full speed. The silver MBT threw itself onto Hollywood Boulevard, the tires squealing as it skidded through a sharp right turn. Then it crossed the street, bulldozing its way through a pack of unmanned Harleys.

  There were screams from the upper deck of Jaws.

  “What the fuck?” Mickey the driver yelled.

  “Hold onto something!” Nolan yelled, looking at Shirley and Kasey. They held onto the table.

  Goliath rammed into Jaws and the crunch of impact sent Nolan to the floor. Jaws jerked backwards under the ferocious assault. Wild, high-pitched screaming continued on the upper deck. This was quickly followed by a stampede of people on the stairs, all of them fleeing the sinking ship. They ignored Mickey’s frantic commands to stay put and bolted through the open doors, jumping down onto the street. Within seconds the celebrity cheerleaders were gone, along with most of Rage’s voters.

  Outside a pack of about fifteen Grim Lords raced down Hollywood Boulevard towards Goliath.

  Nolan smiled as he saw Goliath’s metal limbs move into position. Eagle Boy’s tank practice had paid off after all, at least enough for him to figure out the weapons system.

  “Not bad bird shit,” Nolan said, getting back to his feet.

  Goliath separated itself from the mangled left side of Jaws. There was a loud crunch during this maneuver, like something big and angry was digging its way out from under the asphalt surface and making its way angrily towards daylight.

  Kasey ran over to the window and pointed outside.

  “Holy shit!” she said. “Look. It’s the Retaliators! They’re in Goliath. I can see Eagle Boy, Typhoon and Cowboy Samurai at the front.”

  The guns of Goliath moved slowly, tracking the moving targets that sped along Hollywood Boulevard at full throttle. What followed was an explosion of noise that made Nolan cover his ears. The Grim Lords were cut to shreds. They were sitting ducks on Harleys. They fell off their bikes and some of them, in a bid to escape to the line of fire, crashed into one another. Even when they were down and trying to recover their bikes again, Goliath’s rapid-fire guns caught up with them.

  Some of the Lords tried to run and didn’t get far.

  It was a massacre.

  Shirley hurried over to the window and pushed her hands against the glass. “Where’s Lisa? Where’s my sister?”

  “Viking Chick,” Kasey said, filling in for Nolan.

  Nolan frowned. “Viking Chick? She’s your sister?”

  “Yes! Where is she?”

  “She was with them on Goliath last time I checked,” Nolan said. “With any luck she’s…”

  “YOU BASTARD!”

  Mickey the driver staggered out of the driver’s cabin. His haggard face was a bloody mask and his eyes a swirling mess of confusion. He stumbled towards Nolan, a pistol wobbling in his shaky grip.

  “You son of a…”

  Outside Nolan heard a chilling whirr and click. It was all he needed.

  “Down!”

  He jumped on Shirley and Kasey, pulling them to the ground.

  Seconds later, Jaws’ bulletproof glass came under assault from Goliath. It made for an incredible racket, like a gang of giants throwing stones off the side of the bus. At first the bulletproof glass held but as Goliath came closer it reached breaking point.