Stories of Earth

The car flew down the old road as they bounced along the gravel at double the speed limit. They braked quickly as they approached, the sounds of the officers and their fleet giving a slight indication of the numbers. “There’s quite a few . . . ,” said Josh worriedly. “We have to forge through. Just drive the guts out of them,” said Joel. With that, Josh slid around the corner, to the surprise of the police force, who were loading someone into the back of one of their trucks. “Alex!” they all cried. The three jumped from car, leaving Josh to spin the car around. Joel was off to a flying start, headed straight for the prisoner-conveyance car. Mitch ran to an officer’s parked car and kicked it with all his force, scattering the group and smashing up two other cars. “They’re here!” reported the commander into his radio. “I’m on my way,” Warden replied sternly. Ryan, after a quick scan, confirmed the presence of Alex and grabbed one of the guarding officers around the neck. He pulled him behind the truck, cutting of his air until he relinquished his gun. Checking it was loaded, Ryan re-emerged, firing well-aimed shots at the tyres of multiple cars, rendering them useless. Joel ripped the door off its hinges and threw it at two men who were running towards him, knocking them to the ground and sending rouge bullets into the sky. He grabbed Alex, who launched himself from the cabin with an animalistic roar, his blades raised high above his shoulders. The officers gasped, surprised at strange metal monster that had emerged from their truck and was now climbing into the battered Prius. The police finally recovered and fired shots, but the car screeched around the sharp turn in the road and was gone in a puff of dust. The commander was gobsmacked. “Did you get them?” snapped Warden over the radio. “No, sir.” *** They drove. The road slipped beneath their wheels like a wet fish through fingers. The police forces around the state began to mobilise and attempted to trap their targets, only to have them duck through a side street or race past their barriers. They headed north as Mr Trough had suggested. As the fuel level fell, Joel grew concerned. Where does he want us to go? he thought as they neared the large city of Wollongong, which was only an hour south of Sydney. Josh frowned as the red light on the dashboard illuminated; they were convinced that the tank had a leak from all the rough driving. “Now what?” Alex and Ryan, taking longer to recover from the shock because of their metal body parts, were half-asleep and were offering no suggestions, leaving it to the elders of the group to come to a decision. “We can’t run out of fuel here. They’re right behind us,” pointed out Mitch, looking out the rear-view mirror. But there were no cars with flashing lights behind them, and the helicopter that had been hovering overhead had made itself scarce. “They must be waiting for us,” said Josh. “Turn here,” directed Mitch as Josh joined the left lane. “You think that’s the best way?” he asked. “We need fuel or a new car or both. And it gives us a chance to throw our tail slightly,” explained Mitch. *** They weaved their way through the back streets of the Wollongong city centre, heading for the shopping centre in the middle of the city. “Three hundred thousand people. We can blend in,” murmured Joel. He noticed people on the sides of the road looking at the car and taking out their phones. “Oh no. They know. Quick, pull over here. We need new transport.” Josh pulled the car into the nearest car space, hitting the curb with an ungainly crunch. Mitch sighed as they all quickly exited the car. “Where now?” asked Josh, an infrequent visitor to the area. “This way. I know where we’re going,” said Alex. “I come here to meet with people all the time.” They set off at a brisk walk, ignoring the ominous stares from the general public. Alex led the group down the street and then into the large car parking complex, which was across the road from the shops. They boarded the escalators as a series of police cars raced past. “Are we just going to steal someone’s car?” asked Ryan, slightly disturbed by the idea of harming an innocent bystander. “Any other ideas?” asked Joel. Nobody replied. They waited next to the pedestrian overbridge, hoping for someone to return to their cars via that route. After only a few seconds, a middle-aged man with bags of groceries came into view. “Do we have to?” swallowed Mitch. A voice stopped their deliberations. “Stop!” They turned to see a blue uniform running towards them from the opposite side of the car park. “Run!” cried Alex. They raced over the bridge, knocking the man to the ground, sending his groceries all over the floor. The officer, in an attempt to jump the mess, missteped and fell forward into a can of beetroot, slicing open his eyebrow. The quintet charged through the throngs of people searching for new stuff to purchase. They ran through the first half of the mall and emerged into the open-air centre area. It divided the shops into two sections and was covered by large metal canopies. They headed for the large entry into the opposite section, only to see men in black clothing, with large equipment belts, heading towards them. They turned, heading deeper into the centre, in the direction of the amphitheatre. “Who are they?” panted Mitch. “Not police,” replied Alex. “That’s why we run faster,” puffed Joel. Once at the amphitheatre, they were presented with a choice. “Left, right, or centre?” asked Ryan. Josh turned down the side streets only to see more police and mystery officers running towards them. “Centre!” he replied. As he stepped forward, he heard something none of them expected to hear. A shot. Behind them, the police were opening fire, sending bullets into the crowds of people, scattering them like driftwood in a storm. The shots nipped at the group’s heels as they ran to outpace their captors. Josh grunted as he felt a bullet bounce off the back of his leg. That’s new. They ducked to the left, using the various chairs, trees, and banners as protection from the oncoming spray. They heard the cries of people as they were mown down but refused to see how many were being killed in their wake. Just as they reached the end of the open-air mall, flashing cars and trucks obstructed the road in front of them, they turned, only to see the officers and their handguns firing as fast as their fingers would allow. The boys dove into the tiered fountain that flowed through the mall and took cover behind one of the concrete retaining walls. The rushing water muffled the sound of the shots from behind, but the new wave of officers unsheathed their weapons. “There’s no way we can beat all of them,” said Alex. “We can try?” suggested Josh feebly. “And get ourselves killed?” replied Joel sarcastically, though they all knew he was serious. As the shots got closer to their heads and feet, dust and water was thrown up into their eyes, blinding them. Mitch cried out as a bullet slammed into his forearm; blood began to colour the water. Ryan turned to help, only for projectile to graze his ear, splattering red over Joel’s hardened face. Just as Josh felt another few slugs pepper his steel-coated legs, the sound of a new weapon filled their ears: a loud whine, followed by the sound of copious rounds of ammunition being fired. Ryan pricked up what remained of his ears, recognising the sound from a game. “A chain gun?” he exclaimed. The other shots stopped, and the dust cleared to show the forces spreading apart in order to avoid the shots. The black-cladded figures approached them, and despite willing desperately to avoid captivity, all five teenagers had black bags slipped over their heads and thick needles enter their arms.