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Nolan's Ark Page 7
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“Who the hell are you?” Switchblade Nazi screamed, his eyes burning with horror. “Who are you man?”
Nolan shrugged. “Just a guy who loves cats.”
Switchblade Nazi dropped the knife and held both hands high in the air. He retreated towards the burning store.
“Please take me with you,” he said. “W-w-we’re just scared man that’s all. Kids, we’re just kids man! We didn’t mean anything by it.”
Nolan tapped the bat off his hand in 4/4 time. As he marched towards Switchblade someone jumped him from behind.
Monkey Nazi cackled hysterically as he piggybacked Nolan to the ground. As they fell, Nolan heard Switchblade running over towards them, having suddenly regained his taste for battle.
Switchblade screamed. “MOTHERFUCKER!”
Nolan rolled onto his back and threw a nasty kick in the air that landed flush on Monkey Nazi’s face. Blood streamed from a head wound. Nolan’s foot then sent the kid flying backwards. This time Monkey Nazi went down and stayed down.
Switchblade leapt on top of Nolan. The guy was heavy but clearly out of shape by the way he was breathing so hard. He’d picked up his blade again and as he pressed his weight down on Nolan he forced the tip of the switchblade towards Nolan’s face.
“I’m taking that bus man. I’m taking it!”
Nolan used his left hand to control Switchblade’s wrist. But he kept a loose grip throughout the struggle, letting the punk think he was gaining the advantage. Nolan waited as Switchblade leaned his head in closer and when it was on the money, Nolan shot his left leg in the air, wrapping it around the back of Switchblade’s neck. With that same move he also isolated the hand with the knife in it. Nolan hooked his right leg over his left shin, locking in a triangle choke.
Switchblade immediately dropped the knife. His body shuddered in Nolan’s grip.
Soon his face began to turn the color of beetroot.
“S-stopppppp. P-p-please man.”
Nolan grabbed the guy’s fat head with both hands and pulled him deeper into the choke.
“How does that feel you piece of Nazi shit?” Nolan said. “Getting dark is it? How does it feel knowing that my balls are the last thing you’ll smell before the lights go out?”
Switchblade tried to talk but all he could manage was a gargled choke. Like he was drowning. “N-n-nooo…pleeeease….”
Nolan loosened the choke slightly.
“Tell you what pal – answer me this and if I think you’re telling the truth I’ll let you walk. Have you or any of your skinhead girlfriends seen any other buses like this one riding around tonight? Think hard now.”
Switchblade coughed. He might have been trying to shake his head but his head was trapped in the vice-like grip of Nolan’s legs. It was hard to tell what his intention was, besides breathing.
“I asked you a question,” Nolan said. “Have you seen any other buses like this one riding around Hollywood tonight?”
“Nooooooo.”
“Sure about that?”
“Yessss.”
“Okay then.”
Nolan tightened the choke and Switchblade’s arms jerked like he’d been tasered by ten cops. “And one more thing pal. Are you ever going to trap any more animals in burning buildings to use them as bait? I understand it’s getting hard to speak. Tap if you want to say no. Don’t do anything if it’s a yes.”
Switchblade’s arm flopped around. It was obvious to Nolan that he was trying to tap the sidewalk.
Nolan let the choke hang for another couple of seconds.
“Good man,” he said.
He let go of the stranglehold and slammed his boot into Switchblade Nazi’s solar plexus, kicking him away. Switchblade fell backwards, rolling about on the ground and gasping for oxygen.
Nolan stood up and pointed to the burning locksmith.
“Enjoy your bonfire.”
With that he made his way back to Goliath, stepping over from the fallen Nazis en route.
Nolan climbed aboard and sat behind the wheel. With a wave to the Nazis, he pushed the release and the doors folded over.
He looked at his hands. There was a mild graze on the knuckles of his right. Apart from that he was in good shape.
“Everything alright back there?” he asked, leaning his head towards the aisle.
The cats didn’t answer. They’d disappeared somewhere and fortunately for them there were lots of places to hide. And they weren’t slumming it either. The interior of Goliath’s lower deck, as with all three MBTs, resembled a luxury apartment. The TV crew regularly used Goliath, Jaws and Kong as mobile accommodation whilst out shooting in Death Valley. Interior MBT shots were filmed in the Paramount studio, which gave TV audiences the impression that MBTs were a hell of a lot more rugged than the mobile Penthouses they actually were.
“Right,” Nolan said, turning back to the front. “Let’s get back to it. Maybe you guys can help me find the dog killer.”
Nolan drove south, swinging a right onto Melrose Avenue. He was cruising at about fifty miles per hour and holding it steady. He passed a couple of other cars going the other way at high speed and he also saw the occasional line of people running along the outskirts of the road, mostly in small organized groups. Some of the people were pushing shopping carts with what looked like all their worldly belongings inside, including blank-eyed children.
Nolan sighed and turned back to the front.
As he approached the double gates of Paramount. Nolan noticed that the windshield was covered in dust and debris all over again. He cursed and sprayed it, wondering where all this dirt was coming from. God knows what they were…
He slammed the brake hard, bringing Goliath to a sudden stop.
There was something on the road. Lots of things in fact, lying around haphazard as if they’d fell off the back of a truck. Things. Nolan leaned forward, trying to get a better look at this unexpected obstacle. He had the strange impression of being confronted by a giant pile of garbage bags dumped in the center of Melrose.
Then he saw the blood.
The arms.
The legs.
Nolan sat frozen behind the wheel, digesting what was out there. He’d driven into the aftermath of a massacre. Not garbage bags, but human beings.
“Oh Jesus.”
They were lying everywhere. There had to be at least a hundred and fifty people out there on the street – men, women and children. All of them lying under a shallow lake of dark blood, a gleaming shadow that to Nolan’s eyes at least, appeared to be moving.
An organized execution? Or had they been hit by a bomb? Nolan’s eyes skipped back and forth over the surroundings. There was no structural damage to suggest that the aerial attack had any direct involvement in whatever happened here.
No. These people were murdered on the ground.
Nolan punched the door release with a sluggish fist, wondering if this was more bait he was looking at. Had someone dragged the bodies here, building a roadblock to stop cars? Had they killed all these people for that specific reason?
Nolan shuddered as he stepped outside.
The streetlights beside the double arches were out. One or two others in the vicinity flickered weakly but Goliath’s headlights were the only real source of light. Considering what was in front of him, Nolan wasn’t too bothered about a lack of illumination. But he had to be careful. If it was a trap they could sneak up on him from anywhere.
He flinched.
There was a noise up ahead.
Nolan backpedaled towards Goliath. His eyes skimmed left and right and over his shoulder. Any second now he expected to see another gang of LA hoods crawling out of the woodwork, knives, chains and baseball bats ready to go. Maybe a gun this time.
Nolan cracked his knuckles, ready for another street skirmish. Beating up the local loser gangs was fun but he couldn’t waste all night doing it. He had to figure out if Rage was still in Hollywood or not and if not, then he had to make a call on which direction to go after him in.
“Who’s there?” Nolan said.
Very slowly, a young boy’s head popped up from behind a huddle of corpses. Upon seeing Nolan he jumped to his feet, a look of glazed emptiness in his eyes. He was a tall and gangly kid, wobbling on paper-thin legs to stay upright. His clothes, hands and face were stained with blood. He was only about twelve or thirteen at most, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a blue and white baseball cap pulled back on his head, exposing a dark forehead.
“D-d-don’t hurt me,” the boy said, his hands up in the air. “Are you with them? You’re in an MBT right? They’ve got the MBTs?”
“I’m not going to hurt you kid. What happened here?”
The boy stood like a mannequin.
“Alright then,” Nolan said. “Answer me this one instead. Who’s them?”
This time the kid didn’t hesitate.
“President Rage and Jezebeth Black.”
Nolan’s insides scrunched up like burning paper balls. “Is that right?” he said. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I might find them do you? President Rage? Jezebeth Black?”
The look of terror on the boy’s face faded for a moment.
“Say I know that costume,” he said. “That’s Chuck Kowalski’s outfit in Goliath.”
“Yeah?”
“And that MBT behind you is Goliath,” the boy said. “We were wondering where it was earlier you know? Rage and Black – they’re riding around in Jaws and Kong.”
“I know,” Nolan said.
The boy’s jaw dropped. “It’s you isn’t it? You’re Butch Nolan aren’t you? It’s really you!”
Nolan pointed to the carnage. “What happened here kid? Think you can tell me?”
The boy’s sudden joy at meeting Butch Nolan fizzled out.
He visibly shivered in the fiery heat of the night.
“How long have you been here with all these…people?” Nolan asked.
Now it was Nolan’s turn to shiver. So far he’d been trying to avoid seeing the horrifying, intricate details of the dead. The little things – the way somebody wore their hair, a particular color of lipstick, the writing on a t-shirt that hinted of personality – anything that might reveal too much about the life that was lost.
“Don’t know,” the boy said.
“What happened?”
“They killed them all,” the boy said. “They used the MBTs, shooting at the crowd like they were paper targets at a funfair. It was over in seconds. Hundreds of people.”
He made a whimpering noise.
“They killed Lars and Charlie,” he said. “My friends are dead.”
The boy buried his face in his hands, almost pushing the baseball cap off his head.
“I’m sorry kid,” Nolan said. “That sucks bad.”
“Axel,” he said. “My name’s Axel.”
“Who killed your friends Axel?” Nolan said. “Who killed all these people? I need you to say it.”
Axel was wobbly on his feet, like someone who’d stepped off a rollercoaster too fast.
“The President,” he said. “I swear to God man. It was the President who did it. And Jezebeth Black too I guess. Both MBTs were shooting into the crowd, just shooting and shooting…”
Nolan stared hard at the boy.
“You don’t believe me?” Axel asked.
A pause.
“Oh I believe you Axel,” Nolan said. “In fact, I’m not surprised.”
“They kidnapped my other friend too,” Axel said. “Kasey. She was one of the survivors, like me. We might be the only ones, I don’t know. One of the President’s men dragged her back to the bus like she was a toy or something. Big slab of muscle, about your size. Redhead. Plug ugly.”
Nolan’s ears pricked up. “Redhead?”
“Yeah.”
“Axel,” Nolan said. “It just so happens I’m looking for the President and a big ugly redhead.”
Axel dabbed at the bloodstains on his t-shirt. “What do you want with them?”
“I’m going to kill them.”
“Why?” Axel asked in a quiet, wary voice. It sounded like he didn’t really want to know the answer.
“They killed my dog. My best friend. And they think they can get away with it.”
Axel fidgeted with his cap. “Why’d they do that?”
Nolan shrugged. “Why’d they kill all these people?”
Axel nodded. Then his face brightened up.
“I can help you find them Nolan,” he said. “We can help each other. Alright? I need to find Kasey – I’ve been laying low, just trying to figure out a way to get her back before that big bastard hurts her. I think he’s one of them pedophilers, you know? Either that or he’s a cannibal. Maybe he’s both.”
Nolan backed off. “Uh-uh. Not going to happen kid. I travel alone.”
“Please Nolan,” Axel begged. “I was too scared to do anything when that rat bastard took her. I owe her man. She’s my best friend and she’s all the true family I got left in this world. Please.”
“Can’t do it kid,” Nolan said with a shake of the head. “You don’t want to see any more killing. You think it’s bad here? When I get a hold of these bastards – imagine the worst thing you ever saw and then multiply it by World War Three. Then you’ll know what I’m talking about.”
“Please,” Axel said, clasping his hands together. Like he was in the front row of church.
“I’m sorry.”
Nolan walked towards Goliath, hoping the kid would leave it at that. That he’d shut up and let Nolan go.
“Wait Nolan!” Axel called out after him. “Wait!”
Nolan kept walking.
“There’s something else you should know,” Axel said. “About Rage. About what’s happening tonight. It’ll explain why all these people are lying dead here.”
That got Nolan’s attention. He stopped, then turned around.
“Spill it.”
“They’re holding an election,” Axel said, edging closer towards Goliath. “Tonight in Hollywood. An election man – can you believe it? Rage and Black announced it here but the people – these people – they were having none of it. One of the men even said Rage had something to do with the attack. You think there’s something to that? That all this – it was an inside job? Anyway the people turned on Rage and Black. They wanted to arrest them and…”
“That’s when they started shooting,” Nolan said.
Axel nodded. “Yeah. That’s when they started shooting.”
“An election?” Nolan said, lowering his bandana. When he smelled the sweetish rot in the air he put it back up again quickly. “Jesus. Vote for them? That’s like asking the drunk driver who just fender bendered your car for a ride home.”
“Crazy huh?”
“I wonder why Rage is even bothering with an election,” Nolan said. “Why doesn’t he just take charge? Why not just say he’s still President?”
“Because he wants to make it look good,” Axel said. “Legit. I’m young Nolan but I’m not dumb.”
“My guess?” Nolan said. “Jezebeth Black won’t make it to the election. Or if Rage does let her live through the night, it’s only ’cos he knows she’s got no chance of winning. And yeah you’re spot on kid – when he wins he’ll say he was legitimately elected and then he’ll start a new four year term. The slimy prick. If Washington and Congress are gone, what’s to stop him?”
“Something else I heard too,” Axel said. “Rage and his military chiefs launched a counter attack. Nuclear he said. They hit random countries that probably had nothing to do with this. Said it was self-defense.”
Nolan wasn’t easily shocked but he was getting there. “I tell you what kid, this fucking stinks.”
“Yep.”
“Jesus,” Nolan said, shaking his head. “That guy’s a frigging super criminal dressed as a politician. If he had something to do with the attack…”
“Walk of Fame,” Axel said. “That’s where the election’s taking place. Later on tonight.”
“I can’t let this election happen,” Nolan said. “If I take it away from him he’s got nothing. He’ll just be another bum on the street running for his life. ”
Axel hesitated, his mouth hanging open. “Say Nolan…”
“What is it? Speak up kid.”
“I’m real quiet. You don’t have to worry about me talking too much or anything like that.”
Nolan waved and turned around. He couldn’t stand there looking at all those dead bodies anymore. Especially the women and kids. All the stiffs, so it seemed, were staring at him. “So long Axel. Thanks for the info.”
He heard the pitter-patter of Axel’s feet coming after him.
Nolan spun around. “Go back to your family for Christ’s sake Axel! You’re NOT coming with me.”
Still the kid wouldn’t quit. He kept following.
Nolan stopped. “I said…”
“Family?” Axel said, cutting the man off. “What family? My mother doesn’t give a shit about me Nolan. If she’s alive she’s out looking for her dealer right now – that’s who she’s looking for. Not me. But she’s dead man, I just know it. My friends are my family, and two of them are lying back there. Dead! There’s only Kasey left and I need your help to find her. Please help me save her from that monster. You were sent to me Nolan, I just know it.”
The boy’s face wrinkled in confusion. He pointed a finger at Goliath.
“A CAT?” he yelled. “Holy…there’s a cat sitting on your windshield man. What the hell? You travel alone? You’ve got a cat for God’s sake but you won’t take me?”
Nolan groaned under his breath. He was wasting time. He had to dismantle this election and then bury Rage and Blaze in the debris.
He turned around.
“You got a problem with cats?” Nolan asked.
Axel’s eyes lit up. A smile appeared on his face and it was a good smile.
“I love cats,” he said.
Chapter 6
Kasey’s back was pressed tight against the wall.
After being dragged onto Jaws she’d taken refuge in one of several booths in the lower deck apartment. This booth was similar to those in retro fifties style diners – the seats were Coca-Cola red and white, thick-padded, cozy and fun. It was weird for a die-hard Goliath fan like Kasey to see this kind of thing. On the TV show the interior of Jaws and the other MBTs looked a lot different. On the show they were filthy and kitted out with just the bare essentials. Dusty, tattered seats, overhead compartments full of guns and machetes for slicing up zombies, a box of medical supplies, and that was about it.