chopper with a megaphone, “Please, stay calm or else we will have to use force!!”
“Oh, well that’s just great. We pissed them off!” Number sixty-five says.
“Keep at it, guys! Jail break!” One of the men shout.
The truck stops as the men finally bust down the door. They all start running out the back and split up. One of them get hit by an on coming car and flies forty feet up in the air, his body spins about five times and then he lands on his back. He stands back up, shakes his head and starts running again.
“Stop running! Remain calm!” Says the man in the chopper.
One of the men gives the chopper the finger and laughs and continues running. The chopper then starts firing it’s machine gun at him. It rips up the man’s legs and back and he becomes disabled. He is still alive, though, but no idea how. He took a lot of fire.
I decide to get off the truck and number sixty-five follows.
“What the hell do we do now? Listen to these guys or run?” He questions me.
“Do you want to find out what happens next if we stay?” I ask him
“No! I sure as hell don’t!” He replies.
“Well, let’s get the fuck out of here, then!” I say and jump off the truck
“Now, let’s be smart about this. I don’t wanna get shot like that guy!” Says sixty-five.
“Do you always state the obvious?” I ask.
“I don’t know. If I had my memory I’d give you an answer!” He shouts over all the noise.
Just then I see a flatbed truck with concrete cylinders that were at least four feet wide strapped on it coming up the passing lane.
“There’s our chance!” I yell.
“Are you nuts!? It’s going too fast!”
“I don’t know what the fuck I am. Come on!” I start running towards the passing lane and get ready to jump on.
“Uh... Ah, fuck it,” Sixty five mutters and gets right beside me.
“On three!” I say.
The flatbed comes up the passing lane just as the chopper aims it’s guns at us and begins firing.
“Running is futile! We will find you!” I hear the voice over the megaphone say.
“Three!!!” I shout and we both jump on as the truck gets right next to us and hang on the edge of the flatbed. We can see the line of fire crawl its way up to us and we climb up at the last second. After we get on, we climb into the cylinders that are laying on their sides. It gives us enough cover from the chopper’s machine guns. We’re both in our own concrete cylinder hiding as we can still hear the guns blasting and the roaring of the wind passing through the big holes in the concrete tubes.
“This was a great idea, eighty-six!” I hear sixty-five shout. I can barely hear him.
“Just stay inside!” I yell back.
Just then the weight of the truck starts to shift and the driver speeds up. He is probably spooked from the chopper firing at his truck. The cylinder closest to the back rolls off the bed and crushes a car that was right behind us. There are three more left. Mine is closest to the driver’s cab. Sixty-five’s was between mine and the other remaining cylinder.
“What the hell was that!” Sixty-five shrieks.
“I think one of the cylinders rolled off!”