(C) Highway Disciples

Story by XP_Author on SoFurry

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#30 of Commissions

Got a commission from anonymous for a curious scene idea, which I naturally ran with. 4 killers race their cars along the highway, only to spread out along each lane and stop, halting traffic. They then get out, clad head-to-toe in full body armor, and start shooting into the traffic jam behind them. Panic ensues.


Highway Disciples

By XP Author

Traffic was fairly light, all things considered. Especially for noon an a Friday. The highway was a wide, four lane road on both sides that circled around the city itself. There were still plenty of cars on the road, but not so many that it was bumper to bumper traffic, everyone moving at a good pace. Everyone except four cars. To any of the other drivers, they just seemed like a group of people unsatisfied with the pace of traffic, not an uncommon occurrence. Still annoying when one of them cut you off, something these cars were doing quite often.

The four cars in question traveled close to one another. Each was the same model, a distinctly generic black sports car with no particular markings on them other, with the one exception that all four cars had the exact same license plate. They kept pace with the traffic, periodically darting ahead as a group to find another gap and group up again. Unlike their cars, the drivers were anything but normal. Each wore full military spec body armor from head to toe. Their helmets each covered their faces, completely obscuring them from traffic or cellphone cameras.

Paul cursed as he found himself blocked by a large shipping truck. Again. "Dammit." The tall timber wolf spoke to the other three via comms in their helmets. "There's too many trucks out here today."

Anna chuckled in his ear. "Calm down, puppy. The plan will work." The fox was always the optimist of the group.

Jude's calm voice was next to be heard. "Of course it will work. These idiots have no idea what is coming for them." The sheep was the most confident and resolute.

The final voice of Zevel came through, deep and rumbling. "They will learn soon enough." The croc was by far the most stoic, befitting his station as high priest and, technically, leader of their little cell. "Soon, Xiva'Atal will have her blood."

Three voices spoke in unison. "Glory in death. Pleasure in blood." It made Zevel smile, just a little. They were good acolytes. They were devouts of the cult of Xiva'Atal, ancient god of death and lust. Each member of this little group had been hand picked by Zevel for this mission. Each had taken life before, many times, before finding their way into the cult through various means.

Paul was a former soldier. He found found his pleasure killing during what the government called a 'police action' in a foreign country. Once, he was a man of justice, but war had a way of changing a man. Killing and watching his brothers and sisters in arms be killed had certainly changed him. He found he had a taste for blood, for making those before him fall under heavy gunfire. When he returned to his home, he found he was too far changed to fit in anymore, his thirst for killing too strong. He was recruited when he left a support group after only two meetings, finding their preaching not to his liking. He found Xiva'Atal's preaching far more to his tastes.

Jude had started out as just a common rapist, starting out at the young age of only 17. However, one victim fought back a little too hard, and he was forced to kill her. She managed to slip away, and tried to flee out the back of her house, only for him to tackle her. After a short struggle, he had shoved her head under the surface of her pool, subsequently drowning her. This struggle, taking a life fighting so hard to stay alive, awakened something in him. From then on, he started becoming increasingly brutal with each new victim. First it was just strangling or drowning, then snapping their necks, then stabbing or shooting them. Eventually, he cared more about the torture than the rape. Thankfully, Zevel's group found him before the police, and put a focus to his lusts.

Anna was the most accomplished killer of the bunch, even more so than Zevel himself. She was a serial killer, having started her career of death at a young age. At only 12 years old, she was no longer satisfied torturing small animals, so she killed her entire family just so she could see what an actual person dying looked like. She liked it. She liked it a lot. She liked to target seemingly happy families, making them beg before killing each one by one in front of the others. She had actually sought out the cult of Xiva'Atal herself, having heard whispers about the cult of death. Zevel anticipated great things for the violent vixen.

Zevel himself was no stranger to death, either. Once he was just a common strong man for the mob. When his bosses tried to set him up to take the fall for a hit, he returned the favor by killing every member by hand. His exploits had gained the attention of his mentor, the High Priest Thomas. Thomas had taken Zevel under his wing, inducted him into the order, and even gave him the title of priest. Zevel was more than honored to take Thomas' place as high priest, along with his head. The skunk's skull still decorated his private chambers.

Paul's voice chimed up again. "I see an opening ahead. Form on me and keep close before it closes."

Anna laughed in her usual manic way. "Aye, aye, sir!" The four cars quickly formed a small line, darting between other cars as they accelerated to get ahead of the pack. Sure enough, there was a gap across all four lanes just up ahead. Each car quickly swerved to fill those lanes, one in each. They formed something of a rolling wall, staying at the same pace as each other, much to the chagrin of the drivers behind them, especially those in the fast lane.

Zevel took the lead now. "Start slowing as soon as we pass the next exit. Be sure to stop just before the exit that follows." They had all learned the on and off ramps of this particular highway, so no matter which was closer to the exits, they would all be at the same pace. "Now." In unison, all four cars hit their breaks, slowing their rapid speed down. Horns started blaring behind them as the cars ahead continued on their way, unaware of what was about to unfold behind them. Just before they were about to reach the next exit, the four cars came to a complete stop, each turning just slightly to fully block off the entirety of the highway. The rolling wall became a stationary one. With their placement, they caused the maximum amount of traffic jamming up behind them as they could.

Anna's grin could be heard over the radio through her voice. "It's showtime, ladies! Let's have some fun!"

Zevel couldn't help but grin himself. "Indeed. Kill well." In practiced unison, the four driver's side doors opened, and the four armored killers stepped out. Before anyone could even register what was happening, the gunfire started. The weapon of choice each of the four had chosen was telling of their style. Zevel used a classic, a refurbished AK-47. It was a reliable rifle, plus he just preferred the look and feel of the classic gun. Jude brandished a auto-shotgun, modded for maximum spray, and with a massive drum magazine, with several more drums clipped to his belt. Anna had a pair of smgs, modified to fire rifle rounds instead of the typical smaller caliber they usually fired. Each had a strap that hung over one shoulder so she could quick drop and grab them when she got close enough to use her real preferred weapon: a pair of viciously sharp daggers. Paul's gun was the biggest, and the loudest. The muscular wolf sported nothing short of an LMG, belt-fed from a satchel at his side.

It took several seconds before the panic finally ensued, everyone too dumbstruck to believe just what they were seeing. In that time, all the cars nearest the four had been riddled with bullets, shredding the occupants to bloody pieces. When the panic finally started, people had mostly two reactions: Get out of their car and try to flee, or try and hide inside their vehicle and hope they were not spotted or caught in the spray. Neither was a safe option.

Further behind the pack of parked cars, others were jamming up, laying on horns, and generally having little to no idea exactly what was happening. Then the crowd of panicked drivers and passengers swarmed away, fleeing from the quartet of killers. They were all still quite within range, however, proven as one wolf's head suddenly exploded, sending blood, brain, and skull bits scattering out in front of him. His body tumbled, tripping over himself before collapsing on the hood of a car. The woman in the driver's seat shrieked, then, gripped by panic, tried to spin her car around and drive away, bumping or bashing her car against several on foot in the process. She ended up smashing head-on into an oncoming SUV that had no idea what was happening. Soon, cars and bodies were hitting each other as the panic spread into the traffic that had not yet stopped. Most of the crashes were entirely the fault of the drivers, having nothing to do with the gunmen.

Back where the action was, Paul slowly marched his way forward, his massive gun spraying a line of death ahead of him in a thunderous spray of lead. The shells ripped through car doors like paper, and he watched a family of squirrels turn into bloody pieces in an SUV. Another group of dogs tried to flee, only to be caught in his spray, their bodies being torn apart. Severed arms, legs, and split torsos plopped onto the ground. One man tried in vein to grab at his intestines, laying on the concrete between him and his lower half, sitting a foot away from him.

Zevel fired shots to scatter the crowd, firing both into the fleeing civilians and into parked cars. He had no care for any sort of accuracy, his goal was merely to cause more death and terror than anything else. He would leave the actual task of killing to his acolytes, though he did still score more than a few solid hits. One quick burst ripped into an avian's chest, sending blood spraying into the air as she stumbled backwards. Another burst caught a monkey in the back as he tried to flee over the rail, knocking him off and sending his body tumbling down to the street below, where it hit with a wet splat, only to be struck by an oncoming car.

Jude cared more about his accuracy. He took the fraction of a second to aim his shots, scoring multiple head and heart shots in the process. One little vixen's head popped like a grape, a stag's chest burst with blood as he collapsed dead, a mouse mother's eye became a clean hole through to the back of her head, her children still clinging to her body as it crumpled between them. One by one he aimed and shot, dropping his targets in one or two shots each and moving on.

Anna cackled like a maniac, rushing forward with both guns blazing, a hail of bullets raking through the crowd as she rapidly approached. As she got close, she dropped her guns so they hung at her sides. She instead drew her daggers, and became a whirlwind of death and gore. She slashed and stabbed one after another in the target rich environment, not caring who it was her blades cut, only that the cold steel split warm flesh. She slashed one doe's neck while stabbing the teen beside her in the kidney, only to dance further on and jam the blade into an iguana's chest, the other ramming into a rat's eye. Then on to the next, dropping people two and three at a time.

The ricochet of several shots sparked on the hood of the car next to the cackling vixen, and she flinched away from them. "Hey! Watch it! You almost hit me, jerk!"

Paul grunted. "Don't stand in my line of fire, then." He had almost hit her on purpose. Then he grunted again, but not from disdain but as he had to stagger back a step. His armor pinged several times as it deflected bullets, but the impacts were still enough to send him back a step. "We've got small arms fire." Some of the civilians had pulled weapons of their own, mostly small pistols, and were firing back at the attackers while trying to hide behind their cars.

Two canines had their heads popped by Jude the moment they exposed themselves to aim. "We've also got sirens incoming." He continued firing at the ones stupid enough to try and fight back, dropping another three as they tried to pull some action hero stunt and slide across a car hood to get closer to Anna. "Idiots."

Zevel continued to fire into the crowd at random to keep the panic happening. Several in the crowd had jumped the median onto the other side of the street, only to get struck by oncoming traffic, causing even more panic in the process. More cars slammed on their breaks, honking horns, and started crashing into the back ends of each other. One small sedan, the driver paying no attention as he rocked out to his favorite song, saw too late the truck in front of him was stopped. He hit the back in just the right way that his car was flipped end-over-end, only to crash back down to the pavement and tumble directly into the crowd of fleeing pedestrians.

Zevel saw as the other side of the road was becoming strewn with abandoned cars, blocking the road in both directions now. He gave a satisfied nod as the terror was at the level it spread itself, though he did not stop making sure anyone alive did not have a good reason to keep fleeing for their lives. The croc glance to the side as he now also heard the sirens, though he did not see any of the police yet. A few shots pinged off his armor as he continued to walk forward with the rest. "It will still take time for the police to get here. Head for the large delivery truck from earlier. We can-" He stopped as he heard something to his left. He turned to see the silhouette of a rapidly approaching helicopter. "Chopper, 3 O'clock."

"News or cops?" Jude asked, straining to try and make out any markings on the slowly growing shadow.

Paul grunted again. "Doesn't matter. Eyes in the air go blind!" He turned as the chopper started to get closer, and opened fire upon it. The way they failed to dodge, he figured it was a news chopper. Was. His stream of heavy rounds riddled the thing full of holes, turning the pilot into paste and piercing through several of the other occupants. He wished he could have seen exactly the carnage he just caused in there, but he did still get to enjoy the fruits of his labors. Smoke started to billow from the rotor as the chopper listed in the air. The pilot had fallen over on the controls, and the whole thing pitched forward, crashing into the side of the overpass and exploding in a massive ball of flames and burning metal shrapnel. Most of the debris fell to the street below, crushing several cars and starting more fires. As an added benefit, it cut off the nearby ramp as an entry point for the cops. "Damn I'm good!"

Anna laughed as she saw the carnage much closer, several chunks of burning metal flying inches above her head. "Good one, puppy! Maybe I won't cut you when we're done after all!"

The wolf growled. "Woman, I will cut you in half with this cannon if you keep up the sass."

The vixen giggled as she sliced through the throat of another woman passing by her. "Oh, now he's promising to split me open. You do know how to turn a girl on."

Jude rolled his eyes. "Could you two save your flirting for later?" Zevel just grinned, not discouraging any of the banter. Suddenly to his left, Paul grunted in pain. "Paul!" Jude called out, moving to grab his teammate by the arm. Blood was running down the wolf's arm. "Shit, the cavalry has arrived." More rounds started peppering around them as they started to rush forward towards the crowd. Behind them, from the other side of where they had parked their cars, SWAT had arrived with heavier guns.

The two quickly moved to duck behind a car that was upturned on its side. How it got that way was anyone's guess, but it made for convenient cover. Several more shots pinged off of the car as they ducked behind it. The sheep sighed a little. "Seems at least some of them have some decent aim."

Zevel was moving low as bullets whizzed past his head, firing randomly behind him in the direction of the SWAT team. "Can you get them?"

"We're pinned down right now, but I'll see what I can do." Jude popped up from behind the cover, leaning against the door of the car and aiming. He called out what he saw as he tried to find which ones were the better shots. "Four SWAT trucks, three more squad cars, all using the trucks and our old cars as cover." He fired several shots, two of the cops going down from head shots. "I don't see any snipers yet, but they may still just be setting up. I'll see if I can-" The front of his visor suddenly exploded into shards of bloody glass. His head shot back, taking the rest of his body with it in the recoil, collapsing onto his back on the street.

Paul cursed as he saw what was left of his buddy's face exposed to him. "Dammit. They got Jude." His voice was more annoyed than angry, but he still felt the anger rising. He grit his teeth and raised himself up, clanking his LMG on the side of the hood and squeezing the trigger. The heavy gun screamed almost as much as the wolf, its a thundering roar of death, his a shriek of fury and pain. The rounds sprayed at the cops, sending many diving for cover. Even propped on the car, the guns kick hurt his wound something fierce, but he not only saw several of the uniforms drop, but two cars lit up in fireballs from lucky hits to fuel tanks. He panted, nodding at the carnage. "That should... keep them busy..." He reached down with his good arm and lifted Jude's body, throwing it over his shoulder, then started marching forward to meet up with Anna and Zevel ahead, dragging his heavy gun with him along the ground.

The team ducked low, crawling under a large delivery truck. Thankfully, no one else had gotten the bright idea to use it as cover of any sort, so they were left alone. Paul dropped Jude's body on the ground, then dropped himself onto his back, groaning in pain. Zevel and Anna had already started to quickly strip out of their heavy armor, revealing civilian clothes underneath. When Paul tried, he cried out. "Ahh... fuck!"

To his surprise, Anna moved to help remove the heavy armor from the wolf. With the gear out of the way, she saw the hit, and it was bad. Blood was running quite freely from a wound in the wolf's shoulder, near his neck. The strain he put on it firing and then dragging the heavy gun and his friend had only widened the would all the more. "Don't... think I'm walking away from this one..."

Zevel reached out, taking Paul's hand, nodding to Jude's body. "You both served Xiva'Atal well this day, my friends. May you lay in her sanguine embrace." When the croc pulled his hand away, he had left a grenade in Paul's hand. They each carried one, a powerful thermal grenade that would incinerate their remains and anything around them, in case of something like this happening. There was no capture for any of them. It was escape, or a glorious, fiery death.

The wolf smiled at his mentor. "Thanks, Chief." The croc nodded, then scooted out from under the truck to vanish into the fleeing crowd.

Paul looked over as the vixen scooted her way closer, staring at Jude's mangled face through the broken visor. She looked at it more with fascination than anything else, and maybe a hint of something more in her eyes. Arousal? Then her gaze turned to the wolf. He smirked, asking "You going to tell me to go be with our god now?"

The vixen shook her head. "Nah. You never listen to me anyway." She scooted up close to him, surprising him by pressing her lips to his in a startlingly deep and passionate kiss. For a minute, he half expected her to get on top of him, but instead, she pulled away and just gave his nose a quick smooch. "Guess we won't be making little babies after all." Before he could even respond to that, she was gone, vanishing into the crowd as well. She had also left her grenade on the center of his chest.

He laid his head back, laughing to himself. He glanced at Jude, nudging his arm with an elbow. "Now she tells me, eh?" He scoffed. "Sexy little cunt. Can't do anything the easy way." He sighed, reaching over to grab Jude's grenade, and then his own. Waited, counting to 60 before he pulled the pins, to give his friends enough time to get clear. Once pulled, he set two on Jude's chest, leaving the other two on his own, waiting for the inevitable. "Well, I'll fuck your ass once you join me in hell, you sexy little vixen b-" The explosion consumed the entirety of the truck, sending a great fireball high into the sky. Several cars were flung away by the blast, which was hot enough to scorch and melt some of the asphalt. It completely obliterated the gear that was left under the truck, destroying almost all traceable evidence back to the cult.

Jude and Paul's bodies were practically atomized by the blast.

* * *

It has been 4 hours since the shocking massacre on highway 216 earlier this afternoon that left more than 50 people dead, and further 68 wounded. Police and emergency workers are still cleaning up the mess and assessing the damage, but the mayor has declared the whole section of highway to be shut down pending further investigation and repairs. Estimates are coming that the repairs will cost the city hundreds of thousands to the overpass and surrounding streets, which will remain closed until the damage has been repaired.

The group responsible for this outrageously heinous act are still unknown. No group has yet to claim responsibility, but many are already looking to blame foreign terrorists. One of the four gunmen was confirmed killed in a report by the chief of police, with another possibly wounded. However, their whereabouts and identities are as yet unknown. Many hope that the explosion and resulting fireball that signaled the end of their rampage was a suicide that claimed all three, but without further evidence, the police have said that everyone should stay in their homes for now while the manhunt for these violent criminals continues.

The TV in the bar had been fixed onto the news ever since the attack, the report being repeated over and over. It constantly showed shots of the aftermath, with some pictures of the fireball as Paul detonated himself. Every so often, there was an update as any new information came to light. They also kept updating the body count. Currently, it was up to 53 confirmed dead, not including Jude or Paul, with another 22 in critical condition in hospitals. Overall, it was not a bad tally.

Anna sat at a table by herself, dressed in her usual clothing now. A pair of torn jeans with almost more holes than cloth, and a black t-shirt with the logo of a band so faded it was unreadable. Her messy black hair hung behind her as she leaned back in the chair, watching the TV with only slight interest. She grabbed the glass in front of her, tilting her head back and downing the contents. The whiskey burned her throat in just the right way as it slid down into her belly. She looked at the now empty glass, then held it up and shouted at whichever staff member was close enough to hear. "Hey! Another!"

She heard the sound of a chair being pulled away, sighing heavily. "Don't bother with whatever pickup line you have planned, I'm not-" Her eyes went wide as she looked at just who had sat across from her. "Zevel!" She suddenly sat up straighter, not expecting the high priest to be sitting across from her.

The croc smiled at the vixen. "Even if I was to buy you another round?" She smirked, and he held up his hand to the bartender. "Her's is on me. And I'll have what she's having." Like Anna, the croc was now in more civilian clothes, though nicer than the vixen's. A pair of black slacks and a white button down business shirt. He wore it well, since this is what passed for a uniform back in his mobster days.

She gave him an awkward smile. "W-what brings you out here, sir?"

He smirked again, waving his hand. "None of that 'sir' thing here." She nodded, feeling even more awkward now. "I figured I would just have a drink with a friend and celebrate a job well done." He nodded the waiter that set down the fresh glasses, a cute buck with short blond hair. "And to remember our fallen friends."

Anna tilted her head a little, then glanced over her shoulder as the young man passed by. "But also to check out the deer?"

He chuckled, shrugging. "Maybe a little of that, too. He is just my type. But best saved for another day." He reached out and took his glass, holding it up. "To a successful hunt."

She smiled at him, grabbing her own glass and holding it up. "And to those fallen bastards. May they enjoy their bloody orgy." She clinked her glass to his and the two downed the drinks, her faster than him.

He set the glass down once he finished draining it, smacking his lips a little. The whiskey was hardly the best quality, but it still was quite satisfying. "Mmmm... that is not all I came to talk to you about." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wad of cash, tossing it onto the table in front of her. "Came to give you this."

She quirked an eyebrow. "What's this? Thought the joy of the hunt was all we were there for..."

The croc nodded. "Yes, that is true. This is not payment. No, there was a bit of a betting pool that started before the job. On who would survive." She quirked her eyebrow even further. "Paul bet that you would die first. Jude bet that it would be you and Paul to die."

She chuckled, picking up the cash and looking at just how much was there. By her guess, it was a few thousand bucks. "Funny. I would have bet that I'd be the one to die, too. I'd make a pretty sexy corpse. Left riddled with bullets on the side of the road, blood everywhere, guts hanging out of me." An aroused shiver ran through her body at the thought of it, her tail puffing out a little. She looked at him. "What about you? Just me dead, or anyone else?"

Zevel shook his head. "Actually, my bet was that you would be the only to survive."

She blinked at him. "W-wait... really?" She had always expected to be the one to die on any kind of mission or hunt. Her love of blades always had her far closer than any other of the killers. She was also the most willing TO die, wanting to leave a sexy corpse behind. Or what she found sexy, at least. Bloody, cut to bits, or left in pieces, so on. "That's... actually kind of surprising..."

He shook his head. "Your willingness to sacrifice yourself, and throw yourself headlong into danger makes you a very deadly woman. You did well today. I'm quite proud of you." She found herself blushing a little. He smiled and leaned back in his chair. "If you are willing, I would like to talk to you about elevating you within the order. Making you an official priest of Xiva'Atal."

She stared at him in shock. "W-what!? Me? I... I don't..."

He chuckled softly. "You don't need to decide right now." He stood up, dropping another stack of cash on the table to pay for the drinks, and then some. "Think it over, and tell me what you decide."

She called out as he turned to walk away. "Hey... if I were to eventually get up to high priest, would that mean that we...?" Part of the ceremony was a ritual killing during sex. She knew that Zevel's tastes did not swing to the female side.

He smiled at her again. "Don't worry, my dear. My tastes may be selective, but that does not mean they are exclusive. If you accept and survive that long, I promise to preform quite... admirably for you." He gave her a wink. "Should you ever want a demonstration... I would be more than willing to give one." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving her to sit and think about everything.

She leaned back a little, mulling her choices over in her head. "Huh... well I'll be damned." She smirked a little more, stuffing the wad of cash from the betting into her pockets. "Guess I've got even more to look forward to after all."

* * *

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