03-27-2010, 03:53 AM
It was only a few minute later that Belle spotted it.
Rolling through the streets, crunching wastepaper bins beneath its massive wheels, the enormous black truck plowed over any obstacle in its way. It seemed to be roaming without any particular destination, and despite the amount of damage it was causing, no police had shown up to do anything about it. Apparently the sirens in the distance were just to give the illusion that Belle was not, in fact, alone.
Revving the motorcycle's engine, Belle hunched down and eased her ride into the cover of an alleyway. Walking the sleek bulk forward, she peeped her head out from around the corner, then pulled back. The truck had paused, its massive engine idling, and Belle had the distinct impression that it was listening for her.
"Wait for it," Wess cautioned her. "And ... now."
Belle pulled back on the throttle and shot out of the alley so fast that the front wheel felt like it was about to fly into the air. She almost lost control of the bike completely as she turned the vehicle to point towards the truck, pressed herself to the bike, and accelerated.
The movement hadn't gone unnoticed. Instead of trying to do a three-point turn, the monster truck simply backed up, aiming its wheels for her.
Following Wess' instructions, Belle gritted her teeth and swerved to the side a split second before contact. She flew through the wide gap between the truck's wheels and soared out in front of it. Her front wheel wobbled as it struck the crumpled remains of one of the victimized trashcans, but she just managed to keep herself from losing control completely.
The engine of the obsidian truck roared to full life. Its wheels squealed against the pavement as it switched quickly from reverse to forward, kicking up a tide of debris before launching after her with incredible speed.
Belle spared a few glances over her shoulder. As before, the mammoth vehicle didn't so much drive as it did plow. It mounted curbs, slammed into - and knocked over - small trees, and made pancakes out of any unfortunate cars that just happened to be parked on the street. It only swerved when absolutely necessary, apparently intent on reaching her as quickly as possible while still racking up some pre-established amount of destruction. The machine seemed to thrive on it, and Belle could almost sense an aura about it, as if it were somehow alive.
Belle almost missed her turn as she shook her head to clear her thoughts. Yanking the front wheel bodily to the right, the sudden change in direction forced her to lean in the same direction to compensate. Her knee came barely half a foot above the ground, her hair whipping a telephone pole as she reached the apex, then straightened out.
The quick movement caught the truck off guard. Trying to match her turn, it slammed into the tall commercial building on the corner with enough force to shatter all the windows on the block. Shockwaves rippled through the pavement, and Belle momentarily slowed her flight to take a long look back.
She wished she hadn't. A second after the glass had stopped falling, the truck pulled out of the caved hole that it had ripped in the building's side, reoriented, and started coming for her again. This time, however, it dispensed with the thrill of the hunt.
Belle's eyes widened as the truck's shape began to shift. The highly placed doors popped open as twin racks of weaponry rolled out and locked into place. Belle was more accustomed to fighting with her bare hands than anything else, but she could still recognize a gun when she saw it. A high pitched whine carried over the warring roar of engines...
"Turn!" Wess barked.
Half a second later the air was filled with a withering hail of hot lead. Concrete spat and and crunched all around her as Belle did as Wess had instructed, the guidance unnecessary - she had no desire to keep her exposed back to that much firepower if she could help it.
The next street was just as dilapidated and filled with the kind of desperate, lonely misery that Belle had come to expect from the simulation. A few intersections down, however, the dull monotony of streets and bleak, smog-ridden sky was broken by the looming presence of a bridge that ran cross-ways above and across her path.
"Just beyond the bridge there's a fence," Wess spoke into her ear. "We can cut through that and onto a wider road."
"Are you sure this plan of yours is going to work?" Belle growled above the building scream of the bike's engine as it kicked into the next gear.
"It's our best shot," Wess reminded her as the truck rolled around the corner she had just cleared. This time, instead of plunging fender-first into an ice-cream shop, it took a wider, swooping turn and snapped over a telephone pole as easily as if it were a twig before righting itself in the center of the street. The whine started again.
"It's going to shoot at me again!" Belle barked. "Doesn't this stupid bike have anything to stop it?!"
Wess' voice was partially masked as the guns behind her opened up. Windows all around her shattered as bullets ricocheted across the street. " -- the handle above -- hand."
"What?!" Belle shouted, veering around a hover SUV that had been abandoned in the middle of the street. She had barely cleared it when the dormant vehicle was turned into swiss cheese.
"Pull the handle above your left hand."
Belle reached her fingers up towards the sweeping, silver, knob-ended lever and pulled down, gripping it tight to the handle.
Twin compartments on either side of the bike blew open, plastic coverings panging off the concrete as two large, multibarreled weapons surged out and locked into place, just like the truck's had. Belle was just about to comment to Wess that they were pointing the wrong way - forward - when the guns suddenly rotated to point behind and directly at the truck, as if they had been guided by her thoughts. The barrels whined as they began to spin, becoming a blur...
Belle's teeth chattered as the miniguns opened up, sending stronger vibrations bumping into her body.
She whizzed under the bridge as the truck faltered. One gun went silent as the combined fire from Belle's weapons severed the mechanical arm holding it in place. The truck juked left and right, swerving to avoid another direct hit before, with a sudden burst of speed, it cleaved to the right and raced up an on-ramp. Instead of taking the road's directed turn to the right, it flung itself straight through the guardrail, into open air, and over the bridge.
Mostly over, as it turned out. The juggernaut made monster-truck didn't quite have the height to avoid the bridge completely. It slammed clean through a support beam and several thick cables before arcing back down to the ground. It slammed onto all four wheels, bounced, seemed as if it would topple over, and then found its 'footing.'
Belle's mouth fell open. "Holy shit."
The street ahead opened up on her right. Whether through accident or design, a section of the city had been left undeveloped. Whatever in nature there was, however, had been choked by the urban sprawl. Only scrubs of dirty grass remained, the entire area cordoned off by a fence.
Again, as if reading her thoughts, the guns swiveled forward, revved up, and fired, ripping open a gap in the chain link. Belle zoomed through, hissing as a jagged edge of link slashed across her arm - but she had to put it aside. Injuries could wait till later.
If the monster was surprised by the sudden detour, it didn't wait to think it through. It plunged after her with the feral determination of a lunging panther, trailing her up the near hill and onto the adjoining street, still spitting more firepower than a small army combined in her direction. Somehow Belle managed to avoid any direct hits as she raced up the streeet's steep incline, though several close calls chipped away as the bike's formerly smooth, crimson plating as her own guns returned fire.
Her left gun suddenly went silent with a metallic screech as two heavy rounds knocked it halfway off its turret base. "Right this way," Belle growled as she reached the top of hill, passed over the apex, and skidded to a halt. The drop-off was steep - almost completely blind to someone heading up the hill in either direction.
The monster truck's engine sounded like the angry roar of a predator losing its prey. The sound surged, and as the very top of the truck peeked into view, Belle fell onto her side and hoped that Wess' guess had been right.
It had. The monster truck hadn't even bothered slowing its pace as it had approached. It was a single-minded beast, and as it vaulted over the hill, its speed was enough that its tires left the ground completely. Its shadow passed over Belle - much larger than she had thought possible - and gave way to dirty sunlight a second later.
Four tires hit the ground and for the second time in as many minutes seemed as if they were four short of what was required. But even though the truck failed to flip, it paused in confusion, skidding to a stop, headlights staring down at the empty hill before it in apparent confusion.
Belle pushed herself up, focused her eyes on the rear window, concentrated with all her might, and pulled her firing handle.
The gun whirred and sprayed. A moment later the bulletproof glass cracked, then warped and exploded inward.
Not bothering to wait for the truck's response, Belle gunned her engine and launched down towards the exposed back of the beast. It seemed to have realized what had happened, but it was already too late.
Gathering her energy for the first time that round, Belle filled herself with power. The feeling was different than she was used to; it flowed easily through her body as she hopped up, feet on the bike seat, bare toes curling against the warmth, precariously perched, hands still on the handles. Her timing would have to be perfect...
She sensed the right time a split second before it came, and jumped. The bike fell onto its side, skidding through the gap in the wheels as Belle hurled herself over the truck's massive frame. She reached into her pocket, felt the small 'virus' that Wess had given her, and pulled it out.
Landing just behind the shattered window, Belle grabbed onto a clear bit of the window frame that wasn't occupied by jagged glass with her free hand. She spared a look inside, registered the complete lack of anything, hurled the tiny silver disk inside, and prepared to throw herself off the behemoth's back.
The truck swerved at the last instant, throwing her off balance. Instead of the heroic leap she had just performed, Belle tumbled off the top of the armored truck like a very clumsy rag-doll and hit the concrete with a grunt and a muffled "ow!" She had just enough presence of mind to roll to the side to avoid the enemy's massive wheels as it reversed and attempted to squash her.
She stumbled to her knees as the turrets began to track towards her and dived into a nearby alleyway, cursing as the entrance behind her exploded into fire. It seemed bullets weren't the machine's only weaponry.
It was just then that she heard the sound of the others approaching.
"Thank you, Miss Belle," Wess spoke over the ringing in her ears. "From me, and every one of my compadres... Thank you. Rest assured, we'll do what we can to help."
"Fantastic, and what's that?" Belle asked.
Silence.
"Hello?" Belle tapped her ear. "Hello, Wess-dude?"
Still no response.
She sighed and pulled out the ear piece as the truck veered off to tackle its new opponents. "You're welcome," she muttered, crushing the device in her fingers.
One day, she thought, someone was going to screw her over because she was too trusting. It was too bad, really - because she had no intention of changing.
She could have said no to Wess and ignored his plan entirely. She owed him nothing, after all, and had confidence in her own ability to take Gamer down. She didn't need his help...
But she had helped him anyway. Because if she didn't, he could have died.
Adam, John Doe, Jun... and now Wess. Belle had lost count of the number of her enemies that she had ended up showing mercy toward.
Apparently, not even a girl's body could take that away from her. She looked down at her hands, then out at her half-functioning cycle that still lay in the center of the road.
"Time to get to work," she muttered, and started after the hog.
Rolling through the streets, crunching wastepaper bins beneath its massive wheels, the enormous black truck plowed over any obstacle in its way. It seemed to be roaming without any particular destination, and despite the amount of damage it was causing, no police had shown up to do anything about it. Apparently the sirens in the distance were just to give the illusion that Belle was not, in fact, alone.
Revving the motorcycle's engine, Belle hunched down and eased her ride into the cover of an alleyway. Walking the sleek bulk forward, she peeped her head out from around the corner, then pulled back. The truck had paused, its massive engine idling, and Belle had the distinct impression that it was listening for her.
"Wait for it," Wess cautioned her. "And ... now."
Belle pulled back on the throttle and shot out of the alley so fast that the front wheel felt like it was about to fly into the air. She almost lost control of the bike completely as she turned the vehicle to point towards the truck, pressed herself to the bike, and accelerated.
The movement hadn't gone unnoticed. Instead of trying to do a three-point turn, the monster truck simply backed up, aiming its wheels for her.
Following Wess' instructions, Belle gritted her teeth and swerved to the side a split second before contact. She flew through the wide gap between the truck's wheels and soared out in front of it. Her front wheel wobbled as it struck the crumpled remains of one of the victimized trashcans, but she just managed to keep herself from losing control completely.
The engine of the obsidian truck roared to full life. Its wheels squealed against the pavement as it switched quickly from reverse to forward, kicking up a tide of debris before launching after her with incredible speed.
Belle spared a few glances over her shoulder. As before, the mammoth vehicle didn't so much drive as it did plow. It mounted curbs, slammed into - and knocked over - small trees, and made pancakes out of any unfortunate cars that just happened to be parked on the street. It only swerved when absolutely necessary, apparently intent on reaching her as quickly as possible while still racking up some pre-established amount of destruction. The machine seemed to thrive on it, and Belle could almost sense an aura about it, as if it were somehow alive.
Belle almost missed her turn as she shook her head to clear her thoughts. Yanking the front wheel bodily to the right, the sudden change in direction forced her to lean in the same direction to compensate. Her knee came barely half a foot above the ground, her hair whipping a telephone pole as she reached the apex, then straightened out.
The quick movement caught the truck off guard. Trying to match her turn, it slammed into the tall commercial building on the corner with enough force to shatter all the windows on the block. Shockwaves rippled through the pavement, and Belle momentarily slowed her flight to take a long look back.
She wished she hadn't. A second after the glass had stopped falling, the truck pulled out of the caved hole that it had ripped in the building's side, reoriented, and started coming for her again. This time, however, it dispensed with the thrill of the hunt.
Belle's eyes widened as the truck's shape began to shift. The highly placed doors popped open as twin racks of weaponry rolled out and locked into place. Belle was more accustomed to fighting with her bare hands than anything else, but she could still recognize a gun when she saw it. A high pitched whine carried over the warring roar of engines...
"Turn!" Wess barked.
Half a second later the air was filled with a withering hail of hot lead. Concrete spat and and crunched all around her as Belle did as Wess had instructed, the guidance unnecessary - she had no desire to keep her exposed back to that much firepower if she could help it.
The next street was just as dilapidated and filled with the kind of desperate, lonely misery that Belle had come to expect from the simulation. A few intersections down, however, the dull monotony of streets and bleak, smog-ridden sky was broken by the looming presence of a bridge that ran cross-ways above and across her path.
"Just beyond the bridge there's a fence," Wess spoke into her ear. "We can cut through that and onto a wider road."
"Are you sure this plan of yours is going to work?" Belle growled above the building scream of the bike's engine as it kicked into the next gear.
"It's our best shot," Wess reminded her as the truck rolled around the corner she had just cleared. This time, instead of plunging fender-first into an ice-cream shop, it took a wider, swooping turn and snapped over a telephone pole as easily as if it were a twig before righting itself in the center of the street. The whine started again.
"It's going to shoot at me again!" Belle barked. "Doesn't this stupid bike have anything to stop it?!"
Wess' voice was partially masked as the guns behind her opened up. Windows all around her shattered as bullets ricocheted across the street. " -- the handle above -- hand."
"What?!" Belle shouted, veering around a hover SUV that had been abandoned in the middle of the street. She had barely cleared it when the dormant vehicle was turned into swiss cheese.
"Pull the handle above your left hand."
Belle reached her fingers up towards the sweeping, silver, knob-ended lever and pulled down, gripping it tight to the handle.
Twin compartments on either side of the bike blew open, plastic coverings panging off the concrete as two large, multibarreled weapons surged out and locked into place, just like the truck's had. Belle was just about to comment to Wess that they were pointing the wrong way - forward - when the guns suddenly rotated to point behind and directly at the truck, as if they had been guided by her thoughts. The barrels whined as they began to spin, becoming a blur...
Belle's teeth chattered as the miniguns opened up, sending stronger vibrations bumping into her body.
She whizzed under the bridge as the truck faltered. One gun went silent as the combined fire from Belle's weapons severed the mechanical arm holding it in place. The truck juked left and right, swerving to avoid another direct hit before, with a sudden burst of speed, it cleaved to the right and raced up an on-ramp. Instead of taking the road's directed turn to the right, it flung itself straight through the guardrail, into open air, and over the bridge.
Mostly over, as it turned out. The juggernaut made monster-truck didn't quite have the height to avoid the bridge completely. It slammed clean through a support beam and several thick cables before arcing back down to the ground. It slammed onto all four wheels, bounced, seemed as if it would topple over, and then found its 'footing.'
Belle's mouth fell open. "Holy shit."
The street ahead opened up on her right. Whether through accident or design, a section of the city had been left undeveloped. Whatever in nature there was, however, had been choked by the urban sprawl. Only scrubs of dirty grass remained, the entire area cordoned off by a fence.
Again, as if reading her thoughts, the guns swiveled forward, revved up, and fired, ripping open a gap in the chain link. Belle zoomed through, hissing as a jagged edge of link slashed across her arm - but she had to put it aside. Injuries could wait till later.
If the monster was surprised by the sudden detour, it didn't wait to think it through. It plunged after her with the feral determination of a lunging panther, trailing her up the near hill and onto the adjoining street, still spitting more firepower than a small army combined in her direction. Somehow Belle managed to avoid any direct hits as she raced up the streeet's steep incline, though several close calls chipped away as the bike's formerly smooth, crimson plating as her own guns returned fire.
Her left gun suddenly went silent with a metallic screech as two heavy rounds knocked it halfway off its turret base. "Right this way," Belle growled as she reached the top of hill, passed over the apex, and skidded to a halt. The drop-off was steep - almost completely blind to someone heading up the hill in either direction.
The monster truck's engine sounded like the angry roar of a predator losing its prey. The sound surged, and as the very top of the truck peeked into view, Belle fell onto her side and hoped that Wess' guess had been right.
It had. The monster truck hadn't even bothered slowing its pace as it had approached. It was a single-minded beast, and as it vaulted over the hill, its speed was enough that its tires left the ground completely. Its shadow passed over Belle - much larger than she had thought possible - and gave way to dirty sunlight a second later.
Four tires hit the ground and for the second time in as many minutes seemed as if they were four short of what was required. But even though the truck failed to flip, it paused in confusion, skidding to a stop, headlights staring down at the empty hill before it in apparent confusion.
Belle pushed herself up, focused her eyes on the rear window, concentrated with all her might, and pulled her firing handle.
The gun whirred and sprayed. A moment later the bulletproof glass cracked, then warped and exploded inward.
Not bothering to wait for the truck's response, Belle gunned her engine and launched down towards the exposed back of the beast. It seemed to have realized what had happened, but it was already too late.
Gathering her energy for the first time that round, Belle filled herself with power. The feeling was different than she was used to; it flowed easily through her body as she hopped up, feet on the bike seat, bare toes curling against the warmth, precariously perched, hands still on the handles. Her timing would have to be perfect...
She sensed the right time a split second before it came, and jumped. The bike fell onto its side, skidding through the gap in the wheels as Belle hurled herself over the truck's massive frame. She reached into her pocket, felt the small 'virus' that Wess had given her, and pulled it out.
Landing just behind the shattered window, Belle grabbed onto a clear bit of the window frame that wasn't occupied by jagged glass with her free hand. She spared a look inside, registered the complete lack of anything, hurled the tiny silver disk inside, and prepared to throw herself off the behemoth's back.
The truck swerved at the last instant, throwing her off balance. Instead of the heroic leap she had just performed, Belle tumbled off the top of the armored truck like a very clumsy rag-doll and hit the concrete with a grunt and a muffled "ow!" She had just enough presence of mind to roll to the side to avoid the enemy's massive wheels as it reversed and attempted to squash her.
She stumbled to her knees as the turrets began to track towards her and dived into a nearby alleyway, cursing as the entrance behind her exploded into fire. It seemed bullets weren't the machine's only weaponry.
It was just then that she heard the sound of the others approaching.
"Thank you, Miss Belle," Wess spoke over the ringing in her ears. "From me, and every one of my compadres... Thank you. Rest assured, we'll do what we can to help."
"Fantastic, and what's that?" Belle asked.
Silence.
"Hello?" Belle tapped her ear. "Hello, Wess-dude?"
Still no response.
She sighed and pulled out the ear piece as the truck veered off to tackle its new opponents. "You're welcome," she muttered, crushing the device in her fingers.
One day, she thought, someone was going to screw her over because she was too trusting. It was too bad, really - because she had no intention of changing.
She could have said no to Wess and ignored his plan entirely. She owed him nothing, after all, and had confidence in her own ability to take Gamer down. She didn't need his help...
But she had helped him anyway. Because if she didn't, he could have died.
Adam, John Doe, Jun... and now Wess. Belle had lost count of the number of her enemies that she had ended up showing mercy toward.
Apparently, not even a girl's body could take that away from her. She looked down at her hands, then out at her half-functioning cycle that still lay in the center of the road.
"Time to get to work," she muttered, and started after the hog.
![[Image: Bellesig6-1.jpg]](http://i238.photobucket.com/albums/ff137/catseye543/Bellesig6-1.jpg)