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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Mike’s V8 1969 Dodge Charger Special raced down connecting roads or streets towards Route 7 and swerved around other cars in the process and when he finally reached Route 7 he locked his hand brake and the tires squealed as he spun 90 degrees and stopped in the middle of the road.  The bright blue eyes bared down on the road and beyond with full intensity as he revved up his engine and in the distance there was a large ball of fire and an explosion before Bolt called out onto the radio, “They destroyed a gas truck and ran down a kid on the road!  I’m taking them out!  Any units intercept and stop them by whatever means necessary!” Mike watched as the biker’s appeared over a hill and Bolt running up behind one of the tailing bikers and he pulled out and fired his standard issue sawed off shotgun, fired and the biker fell off and lied still on the road as Bolt drove past the biker, while the rest of the biker’s pulled ahead of him as they disappeared from view and Mike heard Bolt called out on the radio, “They’re getting away!  Mikey if you’re out there, they are all yours!” When Mike saw the biker’s again, cresting another hill ahead of him, Mike put his foot down on the gas, while holding down the brake, and the engine roared and tires squealed/spun creating smoke till the speedometer reached 100 and he took his foot off the brake and his car flew down Route 7, straight at the incoming bikers, with burning intensity in his blue eyes as he did not blinked.

 

    The V8 roared as Mike headed straight at the unsuspecting, homicidal bikers, as two of them peeled to the sides almost off the road, and Mike grabbed his hatchet as he headed straight at two of the bikers in the middle of the road.  Mike slammed on the horn (getting the bikers full attention) while leaning out of his window and the mixture of noise from the V8 and the horn drowned out his raging cry of anger and before the bikers had any time to react to what they were seeing or hearing before their very eyes, Mike’s car slammed into two of the bikers in front of him, shattering their bikes to pieces in the process and the bikers flew over Mike’s car and hit/tumbled down the road behind him as Mike swung his hatchet and chopped off the third (unsuspecting) biker’s head off and his headless body and bike continued to fly down the road till it hit a bump and fell.  The remaining biker stopped and looked back as the mask covering his nose and mouth and sunglasses concealing his horrified expression as the two downed bikers moved and groaned in pain and Mike’s black Dodge Charger spun around (as Mike is already back inside his car) 180 and faced the bikers again as he revved up his engine.  Again Mike glared down the road and right at the remaining biker as the biker immediately sped away and Mike let go of the brake, floored it and tear down the road at the remaining biker.  The downed bikers looked on in horror as they saw Mike racing towards them and they waved and yelled, “Wait!  Stop!  STOP!  NO!  NO!  NO!  NO!” But Mike ignored them and smashed their heads and helmets (like they were pumpkins) sending blood, bone and brains all over his grill and ran over their corpses as Mike raced over them towards their remaining, living, comrade and catching up to him quick.  

 

    The biker looked back and saw Mike’s Charger right behind him with blood and bone fragments smeared and stuck all around the grill and bumper and saw Mike’s fearsome expression and he pressed down on the handlebars harder, to gain more speed, but Mike was still on top of him.  There were the sounds of police sirens and two yellow police cars (one a Holden Monaro Coupe and another a 1991 Ford Taurus) following side by side behind the V8 1969 Dodge Charger Special as Mike got closer to the point where the Charger is barely touching the lone biker’s rear wheel.  The Charger then hit the rear wheel of the motorcycle and the biker jerked back as his bike continued.  The biker then pulled up his goggles and looked back to see Mike’s blue eyed glare as the biker looked on with wide eyed shear horror when suddenly Mike sped up and slammed into the rear wheel of the biker, causing the bike to fall and the biker fell, screaming, and was crushed beneath the Dodge Charger’s tires and the dead biker s smashed bike was pushed to the side as Mike’s Charger turned 90 and the other two SAFP vehicles slammed on the brakes and stopped.  Mike looked over the destruction as he turned his car and drove by the wrecked bike, dead biker and the stopped SAFP vehicles as the officers stepped out and began assessing the damage and checking the dead biker when one of the cops spoke, “Jesus, this punk is dead.” And he covered his mouth as he began checking the dead biker’s bloody pockets as Mike passed and a call came out over the radio, “Mike Weller please report to SAFP Northern District HQ, acknowledge.” Mike pulled up the mic and replied, “This is Officer Weller, copy on call.” And he shifted gears and sped back down Route 7 towards SAFP ND HQ.

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