S. Davis - 900 Miles

Ohh shit, I thought to myself.

Pointing toward the Hulk, Rodgers sneered, “This big bastard lost his sister. Many of my men, good men, died. All because you didn’t like the ways things were being run by Gordon.”

He had a venom in his voice that I had never heard from him before.

“Do you, the good guys, have any idea how many people you killed because you decided to take over Avalon? Do you ?” he screamed at the top of his lungs, giving me enough reason to wince back.

Not one of us knew how the hell to respond. All that could be heard was the roar of the twin engines. The smell of piss, still lingering in the cockpit, served as the single distraction from the mounting tension.

Jarvis broke the silence. “He’s a lunatic. You have to know that his plan for this so called utopia was never going to work. Gordon is wired all wrong! He does nothing, other than manipulate and try to control people. He’s probably using you too, Rodgers. It isn’t too late to make things right. You have a choice here. We can do it together.”

“Ha! I think you’re confused, Jarvis. You’re the one who’s trying to manipulate people. You have everybody convinced that we can still follow the old world’s rules. We can be decent. We can be good. Everybody is equal. That is bullshit! In the end, you actually believe you’re right and the rest of the world is wrong. Well, I’ve got news for you! There is no more good. All the good people died in the beginning. There’s not a single person alive who is still innocent.”

Jarvis fought to stay composed through the screaming. However, for the briefest of moments, I saw him glance down… taking it all in. I hoped he wasn’t second-guessing his actions.

“This makes you weak. I’ve watched as your numbers have dwindled. You’re too afraid to do what you need to in order to survive. You’ll be picked apart one by one. If it isn’t Gordon, it will be someone else who tears Avalon from your grasp. Hell, I volunteered for this job. After Gordon had told me all about you, I knew there was no chance to fail.”

“So you’re just playing for what you think is the winning team?” I heard Kyle ask with an intentional note of sarcasm in his voice.

Just as Rodgers was getting ready to respond, I felt my stomach move into my chest. The whole helicopter dropped, and then pulled back up. Throwing my hands across the dashboard to steady myself, I looked over to see Kyle throwing the yoke back and forth. I don’t know if he did it on purpose or if we hit another air pocket, but at that moment, everybody in the rear cabin was being thrown around like rag dolls.

Rodgers fell back into the Hulk, and they were both pressed against the wall on the right. Jarvis was floating mid-air for a moment. It looked like he was weightless before he came crashing down to the ground.

Just as the helicopter steadied, I heard Kyle scream out, “Go! You gotta get that gun!”

My hands were shaking as I tore off the harness and leapt out of my seat. Jumping over Jarvis, who was still trying to pull himself up, I darted toward Rodgers, who was stunned. I could see the panic in his eyes as he fought to free himself from beneath the leg of the giant pinning him to the floor. As I came within striking distance, I realized his hand was no longer holding the gun.

Frantically, I searched around the cabin for the weapon.

“Over there!” I heard Jarvis yell out. Following his pointing hand, I found the small firearm sitting in plain sight just feet from where I stood. My final thought before diving was that Rodgers appeared a hell of a lot closer to it than I was.

My head drove into his chest as we both wrapped our hands around its black metal frame. He had the better grip, so I instinctively arched my back in an effort to force his arm up, pointing the gun at the roof of the helicopter. Jarvis jumped into the mix, trying to wrap his bicep around Rodgers’s neck. Tag teaming the bastard, we had him pinned under our combined weight when Jarvis found a way to slip his fingers through the trigger guard, gaining a solid upper hand.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched helplessly as the Hulk found his footing and stood up. He was coming right at us… right at me.

Two large hands wrapped around my waist, squeezing my stomach hard enough to make me choke. I was yanked out of the wrestling match now happening on the floor, and thrown against a set of green metal benches. The stabbing sensation of getting the wind knocked out my lungs shot through my body, yet I still managed to get to my feet in time to see the giant stomping directly toward me.

He had my hammer drawn and held it above his head. Crouching down toward the seat to try to avoid the strike, I watched as the Hulk’s sweat-stained shirt squeezed tightly around an enormous set of arms that had already started to swing downward.

An ear-piecing clang rang out through the cabin as the hammer caught against the railing hanging above his head. He was stunned for a moment, then tried to unhook the hammer. Taking the opportunity, I spun past his legs while swiping one arm out to snag a handful of the yellow wrist ties hanging from his cargo pants pocket.

“Get over here and grab this gun!” I heard Rodgers cry out.

Ignoring me, the beast stepped toward Jarvis, who was pinned with his back up against the wall, managing to keep Rodgers from gaining full control of the weapon.

I didn’t think about what came next. I just acted. It’s the kind of thing that happens in the blink of an eye. A final desperate action that winds up working out only half the time… if you’re lucky.

Pulling one of the yellow ties open, I jumped forward as the Hulk leaned down and grabbed the gun. Slipping the oversized tie over the giant’s head, it fell loose around his neck before I yanked with all my strength and jumped back. With the plastic digging into his flesh, the Hulk lifted his hands to his throat, trying to slip his fingers between the tie and his reddening skin. Dropping the gun and hammer, he stumbled around the cabin, knocking into each wall. What sounded like a dry cough kept coming out of his mouth as he fell to his knees. He made eye contact with me as he finally fell to his side with a thud that shook the very core of the helicopter.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall, rang in my mind.

Inadvertently pulling a deep mouthful of air into my chest, trying to reassure myself that I could still breathe, I watched in awe while the Hulk’s lungs fought to keep moving. As his hands fell lifelessly to the ground, my attention turned to Jarvis, who was struggling to hold Rodgers down.

“Get the gun! Hurry! I can’t hold him!” Jarvis cried out before taking an elbow to the mouth.

Diving toward the weapon yet again, my fingers clenched the cold metal, and I staggered to my feet, feeling a momentary victory as I pointed it directly at Rodgers. He scowled, easing up the struggle.

“Get up… slowly,” I panted, holding the nine mil with both hands, praying that my aim was steadier than my innards.

Jarvis let go, and touched his hand to his mouth. Rodgers slowly pulled his feet under his body and started to stand. Suddenly, their faces went pale. There wasn’t any time to react.

In that moment, I was knocked down from behind. It felt like I’d been hit by a freight train. The gun was knocked from my hands and slid right toward Rodgers’s feet. I flipped forward, feeling my face slide through that same piss puddle, before rolling around and looking up to see the Hulk looming above me. His eyes revealed death. They were filled with red, glossed over with a slight white film, and he was charging right toward Rodgers.

Lying just at arm’s length was my hammer. Reaching over to grab it, I kept my eyes glued on Rodgers, who sidestepped the creature and turned with the weapon drawn. Firing a gun in a closed compartment like that was enough to make my ears bleed. Three bullets passed through the creature’s chest, while one other missed completely.