No Time To Spare

The whizzing of fired rounds crack the air as they narrowly miss taking my life or at the very least knocking me off my bike. As the automatic weapons being fired at me echo with their deafening rhythm of pop pop pop, I'm reminded of my favorite song and its' beat is now stuck in my mind. I find myself bobbing my head to the sounds of proceeding shots, all the while frantically maneuvering the 1300 cubic centimeters of power beneath me. I scrape piles of refuse, dodge two-foot deep potholes, and even cut my leg rather badly on the edge of a parked, burning car. That cut is going to bleed pretty bad, but I don't have time to even look down at it. I'm being hunted. I counted at least six men, all who to belong to an ironically named militia called the Saviors. They are on bikes just as fast if not faster than mine, chasing me like a scared rabbit through the war-torn streets of my hometown. The Saviors will stop at nothing to insure that anarchy rules, and strength becomes the only source of power. Cinched to my back is a backpack containing a box wrapped in brown paper. What's in this box is the reason I now risk my very life.

I pass parks I played in as a child and my own adrenaline slows time enough for me to soak in the beauty of their remaining trees. Burning buildings, turned-over cars, and dead bodies are all that's left of the city I called home. But I must focus. Regardless of my ability to stay calm under pressure, fear still has its' negative effects on the body. Remembering my training, I implement the physical tactics necessary to counteract the negative physiological manifestations of terror. Breath in slow, hold, exhale slow, repeat. A loud crack and the sudden dip of my head tell me my helmet has been struck by a bullet. Look up. Still alive. Must go faster.

For the last couple miles of the chase, wounded and non combatant civilians have littered the sidewalks beside me. However, I am in the open now. I managed to skirt my way up an onramp and now I pull in the clutch, click my shifter up and kick the bike into 6th gear. I let one hand go to reach the C-4 on the front side of my bike. Now that I'm in the open, they'll be no civilian casualties. Biting the pin loose of my homemade grenade, I count to three one thousand and toss it up in the air behind me. My throttle is now at its' max. The Earth-shattering boom shakes my intestines. I always found it to be such a titillating sensation when explosives were detonated around me. I suddenly wonder what permanent damage may have been done over the years to my poor innards. A quick look over my shoulder and my pursuers are spread out in heaps of wreck. I'm clear. Deep breath. Hold. Slow exhale.

A feeling of relief washes over me, relaxing all my muscles. But I can't let my guard down just yet. The Saviors know where I'm going and I'm not home free just yet. My destination is in the center of downtown, still around four miles from my current position. I slow down a bit to lower my risk of crashing. The city is counting on me. All the lives and futures of every citizen depend on me reaching my goal. Suddenly there is a huge explosion about a quarter mile down the freeway. They Saviors have located me via satellite and are dropping airstrikes. They don't have my exact position, which is why they're just destroying the road in front of me, hoping to stop me in my tracks. I slow as I approach the crater left by the first bomb. There are more to come so I can't dilly dally. The moment I steer around the crater, a second explosion knocks me off my bike.

I wake up to hear automatic weapons fire and yelling. A black SUV is parked near me with the doors open. The resistance has found me and several of them are stationed in a circle around me firing their machine guns outboard.

"Get in the truck!!" Shouts their leader, a tall, young man dressed all in black cargo gear. I don't have time for questions so I jump in the back seat of the SUV and duck as it's bulletproof windows are struck by several rounds. The driver hits the gas the moment I'm in the truck.

"What about the others?!" I yell.

"We don't have time. They knew the sacrifice." He calmly answers, eyes on the road. I look out the back window and see several men closing in on my allies, killing a few of them and subduing the rest. I won't be seeing them again. He slams on the gas as we enter downtown. I can see our building. It's a fifty story skyscraper, guarded by manned barricades. Our vehicle is a standard made resistance SUV, armored on all sides. My driver knows this and blows through several barricades, killing a few men as they fire on us. The barricades slow us down but don't stop us. I see the entrance to the building. Bullets slam into our back window as I duck my head, overwhelmed now by fear.

"You still have the package, yes?" The driver asks. I squeeze the side of my backpack to make sure.

"Yup". I answer

The driver looks at his digital watch, then at me. "You have 3 minutes. Most of the Saviors will be clear of the site now. They know what's coming. Go. Now."

Limping from the cut on my leg, I ditch my helmet and move as fast as I possibly can in through the entrance. I hear the shots behind me as my driver is in a fire fight with our pursuers. I must not look back. Inside the building, I run to the staircase and trip, tumbling down the steps. A loud crack is followed by excruciating pain in my already damaged leg. My femur has snapped. I yell to the heavens as tears fill my eyes. I don't have time to hurt. I must crawl. In the basement lie five nuclear warheads, all attached to a huge timer on a screen. It reads "0:38" and it's ticking down. This is the culmination of the glorious plan of the Saviors. They welcome with open arms the chaos that such an explosion would create. I frantically pull the package from my backpack and rip it open with my teeth. Inside, wrapped in towels, is a golden key. The only key that can disarm these deadly nukes. Accompanied by pain I have never experienced, I crawl my way to the electric panel that contains the keyhole of salvation. 15, 14, 13. I reach as high as I can and with a shaking hand I barely get the key into the hole and turn it. The clock reads "0:09". I've done it.

I've always wondered if my life would have a worthwhile purpose. I let out a final breath of pure, sweet relief.