W.a.r.s. Tournament

Max was on a plane headed east when Liz got to his room that morning. He had no idea where he was. There had been mountains around the hospital but that didn't tell him much. It didn't matter where he was, he was bound to end up in hell again soon at any rate. The plane landed and Max was transferred to a helicopter. He tried to study the place but there wasn't much to see. The chopper was in the air and headed away from the landing field in a flash. He had seen enough to know that there was an airbase but not much more. The door to the helicopter flew open and Max was all but thrown out. It took back off leaving Max in the middle of another 'dome city.' Max didn't know the official name for these places but who cared? He wasn't led to a dome this time though. The combatants were all huddled in the middle of the yard. They must have been waiting on him to get there. Soon the medical officer called them to attention. He didn't get much out of this bunch but they turned to listen to him. Once more a group of criminals stood in line being 'activated' for the next tournament. No matter how often this happened Max felt out of place, he just simply didn't deserve to be here. He was tired.

Soon five more helicopters approach on the horizon. They were soon loaded and headed to parts unknown. Once again Max studied the faces of his adversaries. None of them looked particularly dangerous but put an Ultra in any of their hands and that assessment changed. The chopper started to slow and descend. When they settled on the ground the door flew open. The wreckage of a huge military plane stared them in the face. Max studied the place making a quick evaluation. It was a dumping ground for old worn out military hardware, mostly airplanes. Old prop jobs. There must have been five hundred acres of the junk. There were forty-foot square piles of junk stacked as high as thirty feet separated by twenty-foot wide dirt roadways. The barriers were set up and turned on. Max noticed something new this time. There was a semi truck sitting behind them. There were several civilian vehicles around it. The logo on the side read 'IBC-Television of the Future'. A guard pushed Max telling him to turn around, that there was nothing for him to see back there. The guards weren't military this time either. They had on uniforms displaying W.A.R.S. emblems. They even had their own army now; for television Max was sure.

Max noticed something new inside the parameter of the venue. Antigravity cameras, the strange looking spheres hovered over the whole area. There must have been a dozen of the things. Max didn't give them much thought. He spotted the faint blue dot in the second pile of torn metal just to his left and ahead of him. He knew where he was heading when the signal was given to start. He heard someone behind him speaking. He couldn't make it out. The barriers went dead. Max flew toward the blue dot he had seen. When the barriers were fired back up Max heard several gunshots. How could anyone get caught outside the barriers? Didn't they warn new comers to hit the road as soon as they were shut off, before they turned them back on? These new guards probably had no restraints like the military would have. The more Max saw of this W.A.R.S. bunch the more he hated them.

Max made it to the container and emptied the contents. An Ultra with four full clips and a new contraption he had never seen. He grabbed it and headed out. There was a gigantic crane sitting in the middle of the place. Max headed for it against his better judgement. There was a stripped out fuselage to Max's left. He darted in to take cover. He moved to the cockpit. The windshield had been knocked out, the controls and dials had been removed but he closed the door and sat down to inspect this new weapon. From all he could tell it was the smaller version of the plasma rifle. So would one call it a plasma pistol? The slightest suggestion at humor took his thoughts to Gina. He sat back and relaxed for the moment. He wanted to see what attention the crane would stir up. He watched it out the glass-less windshield and studied this new gun. It seemed simple enough. Turn it on...he did, the ready light came on quickly...pull the trigger. As soon as he had a living target to try it out on he would. The smaller version made a buzzing sound too but it was much quieter than the rifle. The buzzing stopped after the gun had been on for a few seconds. Curious, Max thought.

Before long shots began to ring out. They were distant for the most part. Maybe Max was the only one stupid enough to head into an obvious death trap. He eased up and looked over the edge of the plane. There were two more large pieces of equipment sitting past the crane. One looked like a crusher, the kind used to crush cars in the wrecking yards. The other machine he didn't recognize. Max froze!

A figure moved into his peripheral vision to his left. He was right on top of Max but didn't see him. Max didn't even breathe. The guy moved toward the crane. He dashed across the roadway and into the cab of the crane. Well, ok maybe Max wasn't the only idiot here. Max moved back against the cockpit door and watched. He decided to wait on firing this new gun for the moment. What good would being in that cab possibly do this guy? He fired the crane up and began pulling levers and pushing buttons. Max wondered how much W.A.R.S. had paid for them to tear this place up. Machinery like this wasn't cheap. Max was sure it was a military installation.

It wasn't long before this guy had the bucket of the crane rising into the air and swinging in a huge circle. Why didn't he just crawl up the boom and ask someone to shoot him? Max heard the bucket crash into a nearby pile of wreckage. Pieces of debris fell all around. The guy jumped out of the crane and left the thing turning in circles. What a dumb-ass Max thought...or maybe not. Max heard gunshots nearby. He sat back to let the games begin...without him!

A sudden fireball exploded in the direction the want-to-be crane operator had fled. He came racing back down the roadway. His pursuer jumped into the roadway and aimed the plasma rifle toward the fleeing man. He pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He looked at the strange thing in his hands. He took aim again. This time a plasma projectile came blazing down the road just outside Max's hideout. It impacted something just past the cockpit where Max was sitting. Flames shot through the window. Max covered his face. The heat got intense but it wasn't enough to do Max any damage. Max wondered if the guy running away made it. The shooter ran halfway up the roadway toward the crane. He stopped out of sight to examine the damage he caused from a distance. The crane bucket swinging around caught Max's eye. It was going to hit the pile next to the shooter. A camera hovered and watched. Max waited. The guy looked up when the crane slammed into the stack of planes beside him...he looked up just in time to see half of an airplane come sliding off the pile on top of him. The falling wreckage snuffed out the man's last scream. Max wanted to get his hands on that plasma rifle if he could. He saw it lying beneath the fallen plane but couldn't tell if it would pull free. He didn't want to get one of those blasts fired up his ass bending over to find out just yet; he waited for five more minutes.

Max eased out of the fuselage and looked around when no one showed up to check out the raucous goings on. Gunfire sounded all around. They were going nuts on each other again. Max looked up for the crane bucket. It was still circling but harmlessly now. Max flew to the rifle; it pulled free. He turned it off and he made a mad dash for the huge crusher. Since he was here he might as well add to the confusing noise of the crane. He found the controls and started pushing buttons. There was no power to the crusher. He raced to the other machine; same there, no power. It looked like some kind of metal shredder. There was a small 'house' on wheels sitting behind the two machines. Max ran to it. It was pad locked but Max kicked the door twice and it broke open. Max started flipping switches on the control board and pulling levers on the wall. He noticed lights come on at the shredders control panel. He ran back to the shredder and turned ever switch he saw. It started with a whine.

When he pulled one lever toward the back of the machine, metal shards came flying out of a chute on the end of the shredder about three feet off the ground. There was a pile of shards ten feet high where the metal landed. He pulled the lever back up. Now that's a weapon, Max thought. Max crawled up on the side of the shredder to see what was inside. It was half full of chewed up metal. He wondered how long the shredder would run without emptying the metal through the chute. He left it running and went to fire up the crusher. No telling how long it would be before this place was crawling with combatants. Max looked up to see the camera staring back at him for thirty feet high. He thought about trying his new plasma pistol out on it but decided that was not a good idea. They might dock his pay for the thing. He laughed to himself and headed away from the crane.

As was his usual choice he looked for a place high up. He noticed a wingless plane lying atop a large pile three roadways over. He made for it. From the backside of the pile he could see the plane also had no tail, the backend was open. If he could climb up to it he could easily slip inside out of sight. When he got to the opening and crawled in, the plane shifted on the pile. He stopped! When the plane quit moving he pulled himself to his knees. He had already seen one of these things come tumbling off a pile, of course it had some help from the crane. He eased to the cockpit. It seemed to be stable now; he opened the door and went in. He had a good view of the machinery and surrounding area. He saw several combatants moving about. Man what he wouldn't give for a sniper's rifle now.

Max watched a guy sneaking down the roadway below him. He had some bad looking weapon in his hand. It looked like a metal box with a handle. He had a belt of weird looking ammo strapped over his shoulder. The grenade launcher! This had to be what he saw in the pamphlet. They had it all here. Plasma rifles and pistols, grenade launchers and Ultras. Max had three of the four, now he knew where to get the fourth. Why was Max suddenly feeling like a guinea pig for military arms testing? This place could easily be an inferno before this was over. He laid his weapons on the floor and settled back to think.

If he couldn't climb into this plane without it shifting then no one else could either. Surely he would wake up in time to get armed if someone got in with him. The windshield on this plane was intact except for a small side window on the pilot's side. The dull roar of the machinery put Max to sleep.

When Max woke up the sun was setting. He looked out to see the crane still turning. The barrier's red glow was growing brighter with the dying light of day. Max was beginning to feel like a hunter. Did he go out in the dark and find a kill or two; or did he stay put until daylight? His psyche was getting more and more twisted with each new day in this abyss of confused torment. He wasn't even supposed to have made it this far after all.

As it grew darker he began to notice lights in the air shining on the piles of wreckage and the roadways. The cameras were searching the place for entertainment. As one flew close Max ducked back into the cockpit until it had passed; it made a strange whirling sound. It stopped and hovered over the crane and other machinery. All three machines were still running full blast. The shredder didn't seem to be having any trouble running without dumping its minced load. Max sunk back down against the bulkhead and shut his eyes.

He hadn't been settled for fifteen minutes when all hell broke lose near the crane. Max's eyes shot open to the sound of a metal smashing explosion. He slipped to the windshield and looked out. Shots were ringing out around the machinery. It took long enough but the others finally got there. Max had wanted to cause any kind of commotion he could to draw the others in, then when they would start fighting he could try to pick them off without being seen. They would be too busy fighting each other to pay him any attention; at least that was the plan when he started up all that equipment. Well, they were here so it was time to get the ball rolling.

He watched a minute longer to get the scoop on what was going on. The cab of the crane was on fire and a burning lump lay on the ground beneath it. Max hadn't heard a scream but he assumed the lump was a dead combatant. He took his Ultra and the plasma pistol, he left the rifle; it didn't lend itself to a quick get away. He turned the pistol on with its eerie buzz and eased toward the back of the fuselage. He climbed down the pile and started circling around the piles to come up on the crane from the opposite side.

He could hear others scurrying about but he couldn't make anyone out. He made sure to stay out of the light of the barriers. The lights of the cameras were dancing all over the ground looking for the action. Max wanted to take one of them out but that would not be a very productive act. Killing a camera didn't win any points here, and giving away his position might cost him more than he was willing to pay for the pleasure of blasting one of them.

He slipped around the piles working his way toward the machinery. The fire in the crane was fading; the bucket was starting to jerk haphazardly instead of swinging in a smooth circle. The fire must be taking its toll on the controls. Max saw a man two piles away from him outlined by the red glow of the barrier. Max started to take aim with the plasma pistol when the guy's position exploded in a volley of small fireballs. The sight turned Max's blood cold. There was nothing there when the smoke cleared. He knew what the grenade launcher would do now. Which trigger was that though? Max tried to remember what the pamphlet had said. One trigger fired the intact grenade at the target; the other trigger broke the grenade into pieces and fired one-inch molten hot metal projectiles. Sounded like an over grown shotgun to Max...one bad over grown shotgun. Well, he knew where to find one again, dead ahead. He took a deep breath and stepped out into the roadway.

As he approached the spot where the man had been standing he heard something around the corner of the pile from him. He saw the profile of someone inching toward the mess that was a man just a minute ago. There wasn't much left from what Max could tell. There were several spots on the ground still smoking. Max checked behind him, he was concealed in the darkness of the junk behind him. He brought the plasma pistol up to bear on the figure. He pulled the trigger. With a violent swoosh the projectile fired out the barrel. Max saw the fear in the guy's eyes just as the explosion illuminated his face. Then the guy was engulfed in a fireball. He dropped the grenade launcher and started screaming and running. Where, Max didn't know or care. Max ran to the launcher, snatched it up and headed back to his fuselage hideout. This thing was heavy.

Max couldn't help but stop and throw up before he got there. He knew his convulsions could give him away but he couldn't keep it down. What he had just witnessed, what he had just done was too much. He started to throw the plasma pistol away but his common sense took over, pushing his emotions aside. He stuck the pistol into his vest and headed out.

He dropped to the cockpit floor and put his face in his hands. What had he just done? He took the pistol from his vest and tossed it across the cockpit. He pushed the launcher away too. He looked at the plasma rifle barely visible lying in the floor and gripped the Ultra strung over his shoulder. He stared out at the dark sky. He placed the barrel of the Ultra under his chin! He put his finger on the trigger! Then, as if she were sitting right beside him, he heard Gina's voice...

"Max, come home to me Max! I love you Max Fallon! Like you told me, live...no matter what...LIVE!" he dropped the Ultra and broke down crying like a little boy. He crossed his arms on his knees and buried his head. He was screaming inside but held the audible sound to a sobbing whimper.

He didn't move the rest of the night. He didn't even stir until the gunfire started the next morning. He laid his head against the cockpit door and started to wake up. He had the strangest thought. If going from a state of consciousness to a state of slumber was 'falling asleep' was going from a state of unconsciousness to waking...'falling awake?' Why did this day have to come? Why was he 'falling' into this new day? How could he avoid the inevitable day ahead of him? He looked out the window. The crane had quit running during the night. The bucket hung limp in the air. The other machines were still running. He didn't move. What if he just refused to take part any longer? Then they would kill him. In the midst of the gunshots ringing out, the memory of Gina's sweet voice played over and over in his mind. He sucked it up and started scheming.

There was no telling how many combatants were left. The gunfire was sporadic. Max looked at the grenade launcher in the corner. He would start his day learning how to work a new weapon. The grenades were two inches in diameter about four inches long. They were scored into squares to break apart easy. There were three loaded in the gun and two attached to the handle for storage; one storage slot on the handle was empty. Max took one of the two storage grenades and slipped the knob on the housing of the grenade into a slot in the empty cylinder. That was easy enough. There were two triggers. One in front of the other, offset about a half an inch. What had the pamphlet said about the triggers? The first one fired the whole grenade; the second broke the grenade and fired it like buckshot from a shotgun? Max couldn't remember exactly what it had said. Max studied the backend of the grenades. There were two target spots for the firing pins to strike. One must set off a charge in the grenade shattering it apart and then propelling it out the barrel. The other would fire the whole grenade that explodes on impact. The barrel was only six or seven inches. Man the pattern on the scatter must be devastating from close range. Max had seen some guys die in weird ways over the past six months. He didn't want to see this thing in action. Max took the launcher and the Ultra and began to ease out of the plane.

The barriers had been pulled in during the night. They were forcing the action toward the machinery. Max slipped between the piles eyeing everything in every direction. You could walk right past someone hiding in this mess and never see them. He was standing at the doorway of a fuselage. He stuck his head in. The tail was gone. He could get this much closer to the crane without being seen. He crept in. He was almost to the open tail of the plane when he heard the unmistakable buzz of a plasma rifle being turned on. He swung around to see a combatant trying to fire the thing. He jerked the launcher up and pulled the trigger; he didn't care which one. The grenade hit the guy in the chest. His vest didn't provide much protection. Max didn't inspect the damage; he couldn't inspect what wasn't there. He did notice the sunlit area around the doorway turn red instead of gray. The recoil of the launcher almost knocked him out into the roadway. He was sure the explosion was going to attract attention. He pressed on toward the crane. He made a mental note; turn on those plasma weapons before you need to use them.

When he stood crouched across the road from the crane he looked in all directions and made a run for the generator house behind the two machines. He wasn't the only one there! He looked out the window and saw the barrel of the plasma rifle pointed toward the generator house from behind the crusher. Max dove out the door. He rolled twice and bounced to his feet and ran as the shack exploded into splinters and caught fire. Those damn things did a lot of damage. Max circled back to the shredder. One problem with those rifles, they were hard to conceal. The guy was easing up on the pile of burning wood. The shredder was still humming along but it was starting to sputter. Max moved to the handle of the chute. He saw the man's shadow cross from the crusher to the shredder. He was just around the machine from Max! Max's heart was pounding like a drum. The barrel of an Ultra came into view around the back of the shredder. Max took a deep breath and simultaneously dropped the lever of the chute and grabbed the Ultra. The metal shards exploded from the chute. The guy never had time to scream. Max saw the severed hand and arm fall from the handle of the Ultra. Max dropped to the ground, his back against the shredder wheel. Both machines came to a whirling stop. The fire finally burned the circuits and wires. The place was silent. Max shut his eyes...but they instantly shot back wide open!