ArchivedLogs:Vignette - Unstoppable, Pt. 3

Vignette - Unstoppable, Pt. 3
Dramatis Personae
In Absentia	2013-07-21 Comes after Unstoppable, Pt. 2.
Location Appalachians
Somewhere in the Appalachians... "We know you ain't dead," Johnny shouted out to the wreckage of the truck. "C'mon out, Cain." Sixteen men stood along a curved perimeter beside the forest road; their trucks and equipment were unloaded in front of them, forming a shield. The bulky SUV was just a crumpled wreck, having slammed into a tree shortly after hitting the tire-spikes they sat out. The door of the SUV creaked -- then snapped off as if it were a piece of a plastic toy. Cain Marko slowly emerged from the wreckage, unscathed. He peered at the men in the distance -- about 30 yards off. "Something you boys want?" He didn't /need/ to shout. His voice was powerful enough to carry out to them. "I look familiar, Cain?" Jimmy shouted back. Cain narrowed his eyes. "Figuring you for Johnny's boy." Johnny grinned. "That's right. You know what happened to John?" "Last I heard, was doin' a turn upstate." "Died five years ago in a cage," Jimmy snapped back. "Cursin' your name." Cain nodded. "Ain't surprised." An older man besides Jimmy pushed forward; his face was haggard, his beard and hair peppered with gray: "Marko? Son? It's me -- Red. Listen, I ain't a part of this. Been tryin' to tell these damn fools they're just gonna get themselves killed ever since they heard about you drivin' this way on the scanner--" Cain's brows rumpled. "Hey, Red. Alright. I'll keep that in mind." He folded his arms. "So, how we gonna play this, Jimmy?" Jimmy laughed; it was a sharp, bitter sound. "Government's offerin' one hell of a reward for you, Cain. And I mean to collect." Cain's eyebrow twitched. "Don't think that'll end well for you and your boys, Jimmy." "We got you surrounded, Cain." Cain's face split into a grin: "Whole world's got me surrounded, Jimmy. Ain't ever made a lick of difference." "You're goin' down, Cain. Bill, take him out." A bulky, heavy man stepped out from behind the cars. Strapped around his wide hips were car batteries -- eight in total, crudely wired together. He threw a grin down at Cain as sparks began weaving between the batteries up through his body -- and into his fingertips. "Heard you're a tough mother-fucker," Billy said, "but you ain't got nothin' on White-Lightning." He threw his hands outward -- a massive bolt of white streaked out, lashing across Cain's chest with a concussive BOOM that briefly deafened everyone present. Cain went down, slamming back into the wreckage of his truck. Metal crumpled behind him; his teeth clenched beneath the whip of lightning that licked up his chest and to his jaw. When it finished, his shirt and overalls were scorched -- but he appeared otherwise unharmed. "Goddamn," Billy said, eyes wide. "That was a full--" "Light his ass up!" Jimmy roared. Gunshots peppered the grotto. Bullets slapped across Cain's chest -- and bounced off. Cain lifted a hand to shield his eyes as he stepped forward. "FIRE UP THE HELL CANNON!" Jimmy screamed, stepping back. Behind him, three men had started preparing a massive, crudely fashioned cannon that had been dragged out by one of their trucks; they were slowly ratcheting it downward, taking aim at the approaching mutant. "Learned how to do this shit on the internet!" one of the men arming the cannon shouted to Cain, snapping the gas canister back into place. "Gonna fuck you right up, son!" There was a thunderous, ear-splitting ROAR; a three foot tongue of flame belched out from the barrel of the cannon. The shell hit Cain Marko directly in the chest -- and instantly exploded. A ten foot wide sphere of space disappeared into a rushing blossom of flame; the concussive force from the detonation was enough to knock several of the men down to the ground. A sprawling crater now sat where Cain Marko had been previously. Around it, the foliage and underbrush were burning; several nearby trees had split at the root and been knocked over. After about five seconds, everyone was on their feet, hooting and hollering. Everyone except Red. He just folded his arms and frowned, staring at the crater. "You see that? Fuck," Jim said, grinning. "/Fuck/, I hope there's enough to turn in, 'cuz I sure as hell want that fuckin' money--" The hooting and hollering was cut off. A massive hand had just rose out of the crater and snagged hold of its edge -- pulling its owner up. Cain Marko rose, his shirt no more; his overalls were tattered and blackened, portions of it smoldering. What skin was bare showed no signs of injury. "You poor sons of bitches," Red said, over the sudden quiet that settled over the assembled men. "Y'think drinkin' some beer and throwin' on a confederate flag makes you a southern boy? You think shootin' some guns makes you hard? You ain't got no idea what hard is." Cain stepped out of the hole. His previous neutral expression was gone; now, there was nothing but rumpled eyebrows and a dark, vicious scowl. "What -- what the hell is he?!" Jim said, voice muffled with fear. "That," Red said, "right there? Is a southern boy. And you, Jimmy Lee, dun pissed him off." The others were running; some leapt into their trucks, while others just ran for the woods. Jimmy charged back -- way back -- toward his massive Peterbilt dump truck. He leapt into the driver's seat, kicking on the diesel engine; it snarled to life as he kicked it into gear and slammed his feet down on the gas. Cain stood in place, watching as the truck's headlights kicked on. He continued to watch -- still scowling -- as the massive 8-wheeled machine rumbled forward, picking up speed slow but sure. By the time it reached the grotto, it was going at about 15 miles per hour. When it hit the first truck in its way, it was going at a good 20 mile per hour clip. It shredded the tinier truck like it was a tinker toy, the front end of the smaller vehicle exploding beneath the massive steel grill. Cain started forward himself -- head lowered, feet slamming into the ground with a steady rhythm that made the earth around him tremble. "Mother-fucker," Jimmy Lee hissed at the sight of Cain charging straight for the machine. He kicked the door open next to him -- gave the gas one more kick -- and threw himself out into the grotto, hitting the ground in a painful roll. The truck hit Cain Marko one second later. And exploded. Cain never slowed down for an instant; instead, aluminum and steel parted around him as if it were merely water -- rupturing in the wake of his charge and sliding off past him. Once he was inside of the enormous belly of the truck, its sides bulged with his presence; axels snapped like twigs while the engine block, split in twain, unraveled like the pieces of a collapsing puzzle. When he reached the truck's backside, something had ignited -- causing Cain's frame to swell up into a fireball as he exited it. Cain didn't seem to notice; coated in burning diesel fuel, he slowed to a trot, then turned -- watching as the gutted remains of the truck wobbled for a few more feet before crumbling into a heap of devastated parts. And then, still burning, he turned his eyes back to Jimmy. "Oh God," Jimmy whispered, struggling back and away from Cain. "Oh God oh God oh God please please oh God--" "Cain!" Red's voice cut through the roar of fire and Jimmy's pleads. "Cain! Please, stop!" Cain paused just in front of Jim. He turned to look at Red. With the fire swelling up over his shoulders and head, it gave him a mane of fire. "Cain, he's an idiot," Red said, and now he reached a hand down to grasp Jimmy Lee by the shoulder -- pulling him back. "--but he's all I got. Please." Cain growled: "Gettin' mighty tired of bein' merciful." "Alright," Red replied, lifting his other hand up, as if to ward him off. "Alright, look, we'll get you -- we'll get you some clothes. And some food. And somethin' to drive, that the police don't know about, and just -- send you on your way. How's that?" Cain thought about this for a moment. He reached a flaming hand up to scratch at his chin. "I do need some new clothes," he said, "and some fixins would be nice." Then, he added: "One of your boys mentioned the internet. You got that up here?" "I -- uh -- y-yeah?" Red said. "We got the internet." "Alright," Cain decided. "Something to wear, something to eat, something to drive -- and you help me look something up on the internet. And you got a deal."