Mad Mike

In a continent where society is on the brink of extinction and the life expectancy in the police force is VERY short, only a MAD person will be willing enough to enforce the law.

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There was a loud “Ping!” noise and Furosium and the Imperium looked amazed as Furosium’s bullet struck Mike’s chest and part of it bounced off.  Mike continued to move towards Furosium and Furosium fired again, five more times, till he ran out of bullets and Mike stood right before him, his dark shadow casting over Furosium as he still sat, and Furosium looked up and asked, “What the fuck are you?” Silence.  Furosium reached for Mike’s hatchet, lying next to him to his right side, and screamed as he pulled out the hatchet and swung when suddenly a black gloved hand shot (literally) into Furosium’s throat (breaking through the damaged bone armor that surrounded Furosium’s neck) with blood oozing out between Mike’s gloved fingers and right hand.  Some of the Imperium gasped, as they looked on in shock, as Furosium looked surprised and made gurgling sounds as blood bubbled from his mouth and onto Mike’s gloved right hand and dripped onto Furosium’s lap.  Mike looked on, without any emotion, as he squeezed Furosium’s bloody windpipe when suddenly he yanked his hand out and tore out Furosium’s windpipe, sending blood caking onto Furosium’s lap and Mike’s lower torso and not a second later, Furosium’s (hovering) right hand, that held Mike’s hatchet, dropped Mike’s hatchet before his arm went limp and dropped to the ground as Furosium drowned in his own blood.

 

    Mike looked at the Imperium and they stared at him both shocked and mournful before they turned around and walked back to their vehicles in a sign of defeat and drove away, leaving Mike behind with the, now dead, leader of the Imperium.  Mike took out a rag from his pocket, as he threw away Furosium’s bloody windpipe, and whipped the blood from his hand before grabbing his hatchet, taking Furosium’s Colt .45 and walked back to his car.  He then whipped away the sand and dirt from his helmet and goggles before pulling out the frame of the busted windshield, tossed it aside and pulled out a fresh windshield from the front truck and installed it and then pulled out an air blower and blew out the sand and dirt inside his car and drove towards the area of the night battle.  It did not take him long to get there and he walked around and picked up his guns and “Punk Killer” before grabbing some extra ammo, taking any canteens that still have water in them and anything that seemed useful to trade or use as repair parts and made multiple trips back and forth from his car.  When he finished, he started his car and drove up to the road and he sat idle for a few moments.  He then pulls out a CD, inserts it and presses the play button and the song “Highway to Hell” by AC/DC played and he firsts listens to the song being played till he bobs his head and presses the gas pedal and the tires of the black DMC-12 DeLorean V8 Special squealed on the pavement and the car raced away on the highway.

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