I think I'll take a stab at this. -- - - - V O X -

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Date Posted: 18:07:18 07/08/99 Thu
Author: Maveric
Subject: I think I'll take a stab at this.

I thought I might take a stab at writing fan fiction. Any and all comments and suggestions on where to take the story are welcome.

The Badlands
by Maveric

***
West Texas-
The Badlands
August 10, 1974

The shadows were long in the early morning. A brilliant purple and orange sun began it's climb into the sky. This was one of the few times of day that the desert wasn't at either of it's temperature extremes. That's what the world was like these days. Everything and everyone was an extreme. The early silence was cleaved by the sound of a supercharged, oversized engine. The mass of metal cut the air as it went. A white Dover Circlet surged down route 114 west. The pristine vehicle was broken up only by the custom paint job of red flames that covered the front of the car and a few rust spots from want of maintenance.

Behind the wheel, the driver gripped the wheel loosely. He surveyed the road from behind a pair of dark glasses. The car blasted past a road sign that noted he was approaching Whiteface. "Why?" the driver thought to himself. "What the hell made me come out here and play cowboy? Then again, it's not like there's anything back home for me." He floored the peddle and shifted gears.

The gas crisis had hit harder than anyone expected, even the predicted worst case scenarios. In recent months there had been a huge upswing in crime nationwide. To counter this tide of violence, many people felt the need to take up arms and the result was widespread vigilantism. �Auto-vigilantes' as they were becoming know as, took the law into their own hands and drove fast cars armed with military and mercenary weapons and technology.

Red Michaels felt the need to be a part of this movement. The only problem is that he didn't know it yet. Red was a writer, though not a very successful one. Not once in his 28 year-old life had anything of his been published. That's why he thought he was out west. To clear his head and write about the movement. He never once thought he'd end up as one of it's heroes. He packed his things up in a sack one night, got behind the wheel of his �70 Dover and just started to drive west.

He was headed to the Bar-D. He got word in Lubbock that it was a hot spot of Auto activity in the area. The AM radio cranked out smooth funk and Red was almost hypnotized by the rhythm. He had been driving almost nonstop for days and it was taking it's toll on him. He almost missed the fact that his fuel gauge was at empty. Half asleep and guided mostly by instinct he pulled into an All-Nite Gas for Cash. He hopped out and stood in the cool dirt lot that was out front of the gas station. His legs were stiff and he was a little off balance. He put the handle into the gas tank and began to pump the gas.

Meanwhile over the next hill, headed down the 114 and towards the Gas for Cash from the other direction were two heavily armed vehicles. One, a Cavera, was rigged up with twin 50 caliber machine guns mounted over the front tires and a device that dropped slicks of oil from a special tank in the trunk. The other, was a smaller, more manoeuvrable �32 Coup. It had a FireRite turret and a large 20mm cannon that could pierce the armour of some pretty tough military hardware, let alone an automobile. Both were cruising, doing an easy 90mph and they gunned their engines as they breasted the top of the hill. Both drivers grinned and exchanged remarks over their CB. "Let do these suckas!"

Red stepped into the interior of the gas station. He walked over to a rack and picked up a bag of chips. "Breakfast" Red thought wearily. Reaching into his pocket he handed the cash for the chips and the gas to the attendant. The attendant, an old guy who looked a little worn around the edges from too many late desert nights, seemed a little on edge. He quickly shoved the money into the register and looked up and down the road as if expecting something. Red leaned on a shelf while he tried to open the bag with his teeth. "Oh!..." the old guy said under his breath. Out of the corner of one eye, Red saw the old guy suddenly get down behind the counter and heard him say, in a barely audible tone "Get down."

Then he heard it. The sound of two huge engines gun simultaneously. Red turned around slowly to see the vehicles racing towards the station. Then to his horror, their machine guns started blazing and were bright in the dim sunlight. The sound was so loud that he could barely hear himself utter two words before the place started going to pieces. "Oh Shit..."

Red really had no idea what he was in for.
***

End if frist installment.

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Replies:

Re: I think I'll take a stab at this. -- SHIFFS, 08:32:29 07/25/99 Sun