Anthony DeCosmo - Schism

"He'll help us. He owes me big time. If he's not home…if he's not home…" Gordon peered first in his rearview mirror, then a side mirror before finishing, "…then we wait."

She asked, "Problem?"

"I don't know, but I think I just saw something silver flying around back there."

He did not have to say 'Witiko' for her to understand but the overpasses of the Dolphin Expressway disrupted their view as they drove through the sprawling arms of a concrete cloverleaf.

With their attention distracted to the sky, neither Gordon nor Nina noticed the black Suburban loitering on the grassy median alongside the Interstate. Chief Hobbs sat behind the wheel with sweat gleaming on his forehead; Ray Roos occupied the passenger's seat watching traffic through dark sunglasses.

The Witiko Skytrooper Gordon and Nina failed to spot-the one with the portable rocket launcher-landed on the roof of an old office building to the east of the thoroughfare, joining another of his breed. The first alien nodded his head toward the SUV. Roos responded by pointing his finger at the aliens

The Skytroop with the rocket launcher reacted to the gesture. As he watched the target car-the black BMW 540i-drive northbound, the alien opened a small panel on a heavy gauntlet and sent a signal.

It began.

They came from the shade alongside the ramp connecting 395 west to I-95 northbound, following the curve of the on-ramp toward the interstate. An old, half-drunk hitchhiker wearing a tweed sport jacket over a Hawks jersey stood at the end of the on-ramp with a cardboard sign reading 'Atlanta or Bust'. The first blur went by him so fast that his sign flew from his hands; the second blur knocked him off his feet.

The Suburban watched the attackers race forward and then the SUV joined the pursuit from a safe distance. The Witiko Skytroopers rocketed away from their perch…

…Fast. Faster. The urge to find and destroy so complete, so compelling…an intense addiction that muffled the hatred for those who had enslaved them.

Like guided missiles, they burst onto the crowded freeway ignoring anything they had not been programmed to kill. A small passenger car-an obstacle-powered by a makeshift steam engine got knocked spinning across three lanes of traffic and over the concrete barrier into the southbound lanes where it sheered the side of a commercial van. That van careened over the west guard rail, disappearing toward Northwest 20 ^ th street below.

A man dressed in a suit and tie wearing a white helmet road an electric scooter with his briefcase tied to a rear luggage rack. One of the living guided missiles rammed his ride, propelling the man off the seat into the air while sending the scooter bouncing away where it smashed the windshield of a speeding Toyota that, in turn, skidded and rolled end over end…

…Gordon glanced in his mirror and saw a sedan rise up as if shoved from behind and nearly fly toward his car. He shifted the manual transmission down a gear and slammed the accelerator, speeding from seventy to eight-five in a heartbeat. The tumbling car fell onto and crushed its roof in a veil of sparks. A chain-reaction ensued, sending more vehicles sideways, skidding, and crashing into one another.

Nina panicked at the sudden jolt of speed.

"What? What is it?"

"We've got a problem," he calmly relayed as he steered the car from the left-most lane to the center of the five, between two big trucks, then to the left again. "Get your rifle and open the sunroof. You're going to have to keep them off us."

Even though her fear of the moving, weaving, and speeding car caused a shake in her hands, she did as instructed, pulling her M-4 from the rear seat while opening the sunroof with the push of a button.

Gordon swerved right again to avoid a flatbed tractor trailer hauling a piece of construction equipment. As he did, Nina saw his face change. His eyes, in particular. They grew sharper, but she also saw a grin poking at the sides of his mouth under that bushy mustache.

"Hey," he said without taking his eyes from the road. "Find something good on the radio, will you? This shit goes great to music."

She ignored his request, offering only a grunt of disapproval as she hauled the upper half of her body through the open sunroof with her assault rifle ready to fire.

Nina's ponytail got caught in the wind of the rushing automobile and fluttered in front of her face as she looked rearward. Traffic in grouped bundles seemed to fall away from either side of the car as the BMW raced at an insane speed.

Their adversaries appeared, running along the freeway on four legs faster than most cars ran on four wheels. They could have been earthly lions-perhaps slightly larger-save for the armor plating covering their heads in a flesh akin to iron.

She could not believe an animal could run so fast. She watched as one side-swiped a compact car, flipping it sideways.

Nina fired first at the beast to her right as it came close enough to nearly nose the BMW. Her bullets hit the monster square in the forehead. The rounds bounced away, unable to penetrate its natural shield. However, the beast scrunched its head and neck to absorb the impact, causing its pace to slow. That one fell behind, at least for the moment.

She turned her gun on the second and let fly several volleys, only vaguely aware of the cars passing in the background. Her first shots ricocheted off the highway pavement, possibly into bumpers and windshields, she did not know.

The BMW banked hard to the left. Nina saw why as they zoomed by a slow-moving cement truck. That bigger vehicle caused the closest attacker to hurriedly adjust its path, darting across two lanes to the far side.

Nina turned her barrel to the first Speed-Lion as it caught up again and fired, hitting it once more on its front end. Its eyes-featureless red bulbs-glowed hotter in what had to be frustration or anger. Yet still, while the bullets did not hurt the beast the impact of the shots caused it to decelerate. It faded a good fifty yards back, taking out its frustration on a motorcyclist that it sent-bike and all-over the bank and off the Interstate.

Nina again changed her focus just in time to ward off the second attacker as it cut across the lanes and tried to side swipe the BMW. One of her bullets hit the flank of the creature where a splash of crimson liquid squirted forth, but either the damage did not hurt the thing or the impulse to pursue and kill overrode any pain. Nonetheless, its swipe at the BWM's side was temporarily chased off.

When Nina pulled the trigger again, she heard a depressing 'click' from an empty magazine. Standing there in the roaring wind and taking pot shots at beasts that ran like race cars had caused her mind to lose track of munitions. However, Interstate 95 entered another cloverleaf and a mass of additional vehicles joined the northbound parade. The new traffic forced the Speed-Lions to adjust their course, buying her a few seconds respite

Nina descended into the cabin of the car and secured a fresh clip. Gordon's hands gripped the steering wheel tight but his expression remained almost child-like in its fascination. She figured him to be 'high' on the adrenaline of the situation, having seen similar looks in the eyes of her men during firefights.

Amidst the roaring engine, the shifts from third to fourth gear and down again, and the squeal-inducing lane changes, Gordon found time to speak.

"Well, looks like we know how high up this goes."

Nina spoke in a melodramatic voice, "You mean, like all the way up to Evan?"

"Oh now honey, if you're just figuring out that Evan is involved, you're way behind. The question has never been if Evan is involved," he rocked the car to the left to pass a station wagon full of day laborers. "The question has been, who's in it with him? I think it's safe to say that Dante Jones, the Witiko, and Internal Security are up to their eyeballs."