The Unstoppables

by Victor Schelun

The car was going 70 miles-per-hour. Ed thought it might be safe to slow down, now that he was miles away from the bank, but then he remembered what Harry has said before the robbery, "If you stop for one second, just one, then all the hard work will go down the drain."

Ed wasn't going to let it all go down the drain. He had worked too hard, killed too many people, done too many wrongs to let it all go to waste.

The car hit a speed bump, and Ed came out of his day dream.

There was a sign ahead. He couldn't read it at first, but as he came closer, he was able to make out the words on it. It said, "Welcome to Springville!" Below those words, spray-painted in black were the words, "POPULATION: GROWING"

Behind the sign, down the road was a small town that reminded Ed of the family sitcoms he used to watch. He always imagined this was the kind of place those perfect families on TV lived in.

If Ed didn't have three bags of stolen money in the backseat, he would probably stop here, maybe rent a hotel room, spend the weekend there. But he was on a business trip. There was no time for a vacation.

As the car neared the town, Ed saw what it really was; a garbage can. Trash was littered up and down the streets, abandon buildings were left to rot. It was as if the town he had seen a minute ago was just a stage, and Ed had drove behind it and seen the chaotic studio it was set up in.

Well, it didn't matter anyway, he would only be in it for a...

As soon as Ed slowed down the car to turn, it died. Just died. There was no sound of the engine giving up; it just stopped. Right in the middle of the damn street.

Perfect. Just perfect.

Ed jumped out of the car and slammed his fist onto the hood. This was the end. The police would be here any minute, they would arrest him, the jury would find him guilty, and he'd end up in a jail cell with a fat guy covered in tattooes who wants to beat all the blood out of him.

No...that wouldn't happen. He'd get out of here no matter what. If he couldn't find a mechanic to fix the car, then he would walk out of here. But he wouldn't get arrested.

Ed had a glock and two extra clips in has backpack. If he had to, he would waste a couple cops.

He looked across the street. There were two women inside a house, talking in front of the window. There was also an old man in a white button-up and torn blue jeans, staring at Ed emotionlessly. No way he was asking that guy for help.

A hand landed on Ed's shoulder, and squeezed it. At first he thought it was cop who had caught up to him, but when he turned around, all he saw was a chubby man wearing a black shirt and pants.

"Hey, back off, man!"

But the man just stood there with his hand buried into Ed's shoulder.

Finally, the man moved; he raised his right hand, curled it into a fist, and threw it into Ed's face.

Ed fell backwards onto the sidewalk, and felt blood running out of his nose onto his cheek. He wiped it off with his hand and jumped back up.

The man in the black shirt was slowly approaching Ed. He reached into his backpack, and pulled out the fully loaded glock he had been carrying during the bank robbery. "Back off, man! This thing is loaded!"

Then another fist landed on Ed's face, but it wasn't the fist of the man in the black shirt, it was the fist of the middle-aged man who was staring at him from across the street.

He hit him on the left cheek. Again, Ed fell on the ground, but he got right back up.

"I warned you, fucker!" Ed yelled as he unloaded the clip on the middle-aged man and the man in the black shirt.

After he was finished, the middle-aged man was on the ground, and his white button-up was soaked in blood. The other one was leaning against the car, gasping for air. Ed pushed him onto the ground.

Then two more came; the women Ed had seen in the window chatting were running towards him with kitchen knives in their right hands. He started a mad dash away from the two crazy women.

When Ed reached the corner of the sidewalk, he slammed a new clip into the glock, turned around, and prepared to put down the two women.

Ed was so stunned that he couldn't even blink. The two men he had killed before were back up. All the bullets-holes he had put in them were gone.

It wasn't until a fifth attacker, a teenager with a wooden baseball bat, joined the group that he started to shoot again.

Most of the bullets hit the two knife-wielding women in front, but one of them flew past them and nailed the middle-aged man in the chest.

Then Ed was running again. There was a gas station a few buildings down. There might be a car there that he could use to get out of this hellish place. But there were none, just two gas pumps and a small building with a sign that said, "CLOSED" in the window.

Then an idea struck Ed. If he shot one of the gas pumps, then the station would explode, and so would everyone in it. He could lead them near the pumps, shoot one of them, and send them back to hell where they belong. Shooting them doesn't work, but blowing them to bits might.

It wasn't long before the group caught up with Ed at the gas station. The women and the middle-aged man were there, unharmed. Good, he wanted all of them gone.

As soon as they all got close enough to one of the pumps, Ed pulled the hammer back. "KA-BLAM!" screamed the handgun. Then the gas pump bursted into flames and engulfed the group. Ed heard one of the women scream. That was good thing. It meant that they were in pain, that they were dying.

Ed leaned against the building and smiled at the explosion, like a scientist smiles at his newest invention. But that feeling of pride didn't last for long.

The group marched out of the flames. There wasn't a scratch on them. Ed went insane then.

He raised the glock and started firing at them. The clip was empty, but Ed didn't even notice. He was too busy trying to hold on to the last of his sanity.

Maybe if Harry had survived the bank robbery he would've made it out of here. Maybe if that security guard hadn't of shot him in the heart, he would've helped him keep his sanity when they did get out. Harry was always the thinker, Ed was just dumb muscle.

Those were the last thoughts that went through his mind, before one of the women shoved her knife into his neck.