Chapter 462: Take Me To The Armory
"Surprise, motherfuck—EH?!" Rum blinked. "What the heck are you guys doing here?!"
The prisoners frowned as they stared at the fully armed man wearing a bandana across his forehead like he had walked straight out of a seventies action movie.
Their rifles remained trained on him, but his reaction left them confused.
Charm glanced at Gin, who stood closest to him.
"Hey," he asked. "Do you know him?"
Gin scoffed before turning toward Charm.
"Nope!" He shook his head vigorously. "Never seen him in my life!"
At the exact moment, Rum’s voice echoed.
"Gin, the hell are you guys doing here?!" Rum shouted from beside the bus.
Then he spotted Red sitting behind the wheel of the truck.
"Oy, Red! See what I did? Beat that! Hahaha!"
Red answered with nothing more than a deadpan stare before slowly narrowing his eyes.
As far as Red and Gin knew, Rum was supposed to be outside the base with Khan.
The original plan had been simple.
Khan and Rum would secure the perimeter while everyone else infiltrated the compound. More importantly, everyone had voted to keep Rum outside.
Not because he wasn’t capable, but because he was.
The problem was that Rum had an incredible talent for creating chaos wherever he went.
Apparently, everyone had been right.
The prisoners looked from Rum to Gin—who was still stubbornly shaking his head in denial—before finally turning toward Red, whose expression practically screamed I don’t know this idiot.
"You know him," Charm muttered.
The others silently nodded.
"There’s no shame in that," another one mumbled from the back.
Since the bus had smashed through the building from the inside, it wasn’t hard to imagine what Rum had done.
If Gin represented precision...
And Red represented leadership...
Then Rum represented...
"So he’s like..." Old Fool murmured. "The yin to their yang?"
Red sighed.
"Never mind him." He looked toward the others. "Get the injured onto the bus."
"Huh?!" Rum’s face twisted in disbelief. "No way! This is my bus — a bus to hell! Not an ambulance!"
"Move!" Gin hurried over to the prisoners carrying the wounded. "Get them inside!"
"Wait! I don’t want to—"
Rum barely managed to finish protesting before Gin shoved him aside and began directing the injured aboard.
Rum stumbled backward into the driver’s seat as prisoners flooded into the bus, carrying the wounded first.
"Fucking hell..." he groaned, his face twisting in disgust. "I’m not driving a bus full of injured people..."
"Rum." Gin stood outside the entrance. "Get them out of here."
He slapped the side of the bus. "Once they’re safe, come back."
Without waiting for an answer, Gin sprinted back toward Red’s truck.
Not everyone boarded the bus.
Most of those climbing aboard were the wounded, along with the men Old Fool assigned to escort them.
Everyone still capable of fighting piled into Red’s truck instead.
"This isn’t fair!" Rum yelled. "Hey! I didn’t sign up for this! I’ve got a bus! Even the radio is playing Highway to Hell!"
"If you’ve got a bus, then put it to good use!" Red shouted from behind the wheel. "Take care of them! And don’t die — I’ll kill you!"
Red glanced toward the back just as Gin leaped onto the truck, grabbing onto the rear without sitting down.
They still had an armory to capture. So, the truck roared away armed with men full of nothing but thirst for blood.
"Fuck!" Rum slammed both hands against the steering wheel.
HONK! HONK! HONK!
"Why did I have to run into them?! Them! Of all people!"
Well...
That was because this was where all the noise was coming from.
And Rum had an uncanny instinct for sniffing out chaos. Had he known that chaos belonged to Red and Gin, he would’ve driven somewhere else.
"Damn it..." He panted and looked into the rearview mirror.
The people staring back at him looked exhausted, gaunt, pale, and broken.
Rum’s frown deepened.
These people looked as though life itself had already been beaten out of them.
"Hold on tight, will ya?" he called toward the back. "This’ll be quick."
He flashed them a grin. "And grab onto anything you can... because I’m not slowing down."
Without waiting for a response, Rum tuned up the music blasting from the speakers of the bus because apparently, the person who chose that song in this place had a bad sense of humor.
Highway to hell...
With that, he floored the accelerator.
True to his word...
There was a very good reason he told them to hold on.
Not because he drove recklessly, but because he drove straight.
He had a bus, and in Rum’s logic... a bus was simply a larger battering ram.
People.
Barricades.
Walls.
Gates.
If it stood in front of him, it was probably meant to be driven through.
"Ahhh! That’s a building—don’t—!"
CRASH!
The bus plowed straight through.
The screams inside mixed with the sound of metal and concrete as Rum simply kept driving. Even rocking his head to the beat!
"Is this really a bus to hell?!" someone at the back screamed, holding on to the injured passengers. "Drop us off!"
But his shout was drowned out by the chorus of the song blasting in their ears.
*****
One would think the chaos spreading throughout the military base had swallowed every last trace of peace.
Oh, that was wrong.
Behind the base, near the breach in the wall, an almost surreal calm remained.
"Here you go."
Vodka stood beside the entrance of another bus, handing candy to each child as they lined up to board.
"Here’s yours." He smiled warmly. "Don’t worry. They’re really good."
He chuckled. "They’re actually the Young Master’s favorite."
The little girl, accepting the candy, looked up at him.
"Who’s the Young Master?"
"Is he a superhero too?"
"What are his powers?"
"Children," one of the kitchen staff said with gentle urgency. "Please keep moving. Don’t stop."
Vodka rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Earlier, he had overheard the children asking whether he was with someone called Super B.
He didn’t need much imagination.
Ashley had obviously introduced herself as a superhero to earn their trust.
"His power is..." Vodka pretended to think. "Super silence?"
He shrugged. "But yes. He’s very powerful."
That much was true.
If anything happened to Primo, the world would witness just how terrifying his parents could become.
"What about you?" the girl asked again curiously. "Are you also a superhero?"
Vodka blinked. "Yes," he nodded as he noticed the awe in the children’s eyes. "I’m Super... V."
"V?" one kid repeated. "What is V?"
"V as in Very Handsome." Vodka laughed, but the children’s expression died down.
"Come on, everyone." One of the women assisting the children spoke awkwardly. "Come on. Keep moving."
As Vodka laughed, the children continued.
The peace didn’t last long as a faint song suddenly echoed through the area.
Vodka’s brows twitched as he looked over his shoulder, an uneasy feeling settling in his chest.
Moments later, another bus burst into view in the distance, smashing straight through the metal fence without slowing down. Along with it was a heavy metal blasted from its speakers.
The bus drifted across the open ground before turning sharply toward them.
"Children, hurry!" one of the women cried, panic flashing across her face as she assumed they were being pursued.
"It’s okay," Vodka said, calmly walking around the bus. "I think I know who that is."
The children looked at him. Then, Vodka glanced back over his shoulder and smiled reassuringly.
"It’s... another superhero."
Though, deep down, he couldn’t help thinking Rum was closer to a psychotic supervillain than any kind of superhero.
The battered bus screeched to a stop beside Vodka’s.
Its front was dented beyond recognition, and the passenger door hung crookedly from its hinges.
"Huh?" Rum frowned as he looked from Vodka to the line of children behind him.
He immediately shook his head. "Nope!"
At the exact same moment, Vodka raised his voice.
"Children! Everyone else, get on that bus!"
"Fuck no!" Rum protested, but it was already too late.
The children, accompanied by several women, rushed toward his bus, helping the injured men aboard.
Those poor prisoners were already teetering between life and death. Not because of their wounds, but because of their driver.
Their quiet pleas, "No, don’t ride here. He’s gonna kill us all," fell on deaf ears as both buses moved away.