The Breaking Point

Chapter 7

The driver slammed the brakes. Everyone jumped in their seats. Mark woke up with a start. "Detective, what happened? Why'd we stop?" 

The detective narrowed his eyes and Mark followed his gaze. All the police cars around them had skidded to a stop, leaving them in awkward, sideways parking positions. The detective and the driver stepped out of the car. Most of the other officers had already done the same thing.

Mark hopped out. They were in the middle of a curved highway with only a short white metal fence separating them from a huge fall to the sand below. Mark couldn't make out anything unusual in the distance but then again, they were squashed in the middle of the car chain and the sky was pitch black and iced with thick, grey clouds. They would have to be eagles with night vision if they wanted to see what made the police up front decide to stop in the middle of a highway built on a rocky cliff.

"What's going on?" The detective shouted to one of the men up front.

"There's a huge blockage.......um......just get here."

The detective squeezed his way around the bend until he was facing the obstruction while Mark simply slipped after him. 'Blockage' would have been the understatement of the century. Tons of large, hollow, iron pillars were tossed over one another, blocking the entire road. As if that wasn't enough, there were about ten teenagers, sitting, standing, or laying on the giant rods. Their leader seemed horribly familiar; a pink haired boy with deadly gray eyes that Mark recognized instantly.

"Felix!" the goalie shouted, averting all the police's eyes to him.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the famous Mark Evans himself, and it looks like he's getting a ride to prison."

"Get down, kid. The only one who's ending up behind bars tonight is you." Detective Smith yelled.

The gangster's gray eyes sparkled in delight. "With all my due respect to the law," and his gang snickered at his sarcasm. "I disagree. Either way, it's real nice having a couple witnesses."

His hand revealed a long, sharp metal object. He raised it above his head, letting it sparkle under the revealed moon's white light. Multiple gasps echoed through the emptiness as the object became visible.

Felix gave a shallow laugh and snapped his fingers. Almost instantly, two more teens hopped on to a rod, each grabbing an arm of a mysterious figure. Felix held the figure by the chin and lifted its drooping head up for the police to see.

"Archer! What did you do to him?" Mark screamed.

"Load 'em up, boys," Felix ordered. Each one of Felix's teens held up a different weapon. Rifles, pistols, carbines, and bazookas all rose to the air. The police already had their own guns up and ready, just waiting for Detective Smith's command.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Felix laid his knife on Archer's head. "Or else."

"Let him go," Mark screamed. "What do you want from him?"

Felix's eyes twinkled. "Not him. It's you we want."

Mark took a step back in surprise. "Fine, let him go and I'll-"

"Nonsense!" The detective yelled. "Give us the boy or we're firing."

"Sorry, not sorry. But you know what we want and we're not giving up a thing 'till we get it."

"Fire!" The detective commanded.

A storm of bullets were launched into the darkness and in a matter of minutes, the highway turned into a full blown battlefield. The detective pushed Mark to the ground and pulled out his own gun.