Escape from San Angelo, Part 3
Freeway Warrior 2: Mountain Run (yes, the American one with the abbreviated name)
Kate and I have escaped from San Angelo, with only one significant fistfight the whole time. I was able to sneak in, mow down my enemies in hails of gunfire, and sneak out through a maintenance shaft with Kate. It’s been a tense and exciting time, but now we’re on the open road westbound from San Angelo. Time for some ibuprofen and Bactine. Time to keep moving.
Up ahead, we see another small one-gas-station town, and in the highway the locals are fighting dogs. Behind us, we can see a significantly large horde of angry bikers coming out of San Angelo. So, I channel my moral outrage at the abuse of animals and my fight-or-flight response into a single purpose — gunning the gas and just plowing straight into the dog fighting event. Dogs and handlers and bettors go flying everywhere, and it’s total chaos.
One of the dogs flies up over the windshield and into the front seat, and I have to stab it to death while also trying to drive. So much for that animal cruelty angle, I guess. This is not my most heroic moment.
After hosing the dog fur off of my car’s grill, we continue driving until I’m just too tired to go on. We pull into a warehouse in another abandoned town, and hope for the best.
Bad news: the bikers show up.
Good news: they leave.
Bad news: I get bitten by a spider.
Good news: It’s not too serious.
Bad news: Our little subterfuge accomplished nothing, because the whole band of bikers is waiting for us on the road ahead.
A Jolly Barbecue with the Cave Dwellers
But the Angelinos aren’t very bright. For some reason, they chose to blockade a section of road which has a freeway exit, though, so I just turn off the road to get away from them. That’s some brilliant tactics, right there.
The band chases us, all the way to Sonora Caverns, an old tourist attraction… which is populated with a tribe of Lost Boys-lookin’ people — furs, arrows, face paint, the works! But we don’t have time to admire the really intricate cosplay, because the gang is upon us. We retreat into the caves with the tribe, and let the two tribes of savages duke it out. In the end, the Angelinos are defeated and the cave dwellers are stoking up barbecues for the gift of meat that delivered itself to them.
Hey, I don’t even eat meat at all, but I’m not one to judge someone eating my enemies. However, I didn’t bring anything to contribute to the barbecue so Kate and I un-invite ourselves and skedaddle.
Hell is Texas in the Summer Time
Unfortunately, during that whole fracas the fuel tank was riddled with bullet holes. We scrape together what we can, but it’s only several gallons and it won’t get us far.
Also unfortunately, we’re still in Texas, so it’s blazing hot all the time. We drive all day, and through we’re unmolested by gangsters, that hot sun just saps it out of us — the last of my water and 3 endurance beyond that. Eventually, we end up at Bakersfield and we stop to rest, and to search for water and gas. For some reason, we’re given the option of searching the north half of Bakersfield or the south side of Bakersfield, which is a bit silly since Bakersfield had a population of 30 and would fit into a good-sized apartment flat.
We rummage through the town and all I come up with, is a carton of cigarettes. Of course, they’re eight-year-old cigarettes, so even a smoker wouldn’t want to puff on these. Yuck! Well, at least Kate scrounged up some dinner and we have a dry roof over our heads to wait out a thunderstorm.
And we wake up to find the building on fire. We get out okay, but you know… just… wow. Some days. Well, now that we’re awake I guess it’s time to move on.
We pull into the city of Fort Stockton and stop at the first gas station we see. We find a truck that’s still shiny and not covered in dust, and the oil is still wet and it still smells of gas, and four men with guns are surrounding us…
Oh man. To be continued…