The Death of a Giant

Chapter 16: Ben Gives Up

After watching Ripburger fall to his death, I breathed a sigh of relief.  It was all over.  Final mission complete.  There was no way I would be able to climb back to the plane, exhausted as I was.  I crawled up onto the roof of the truck, sat down and watched as Maureen crawled up on top of the truck’s freight, looking out from inside the shattered nose of the plane.

            “This is goodbye, Maureen,” I said.

            “Goodbye?  Ben, you can make it back here.  I know you can.”

            “Maureen, I knew from the moment I met you that something big was going to happen to me.  This is what it’s come to.  This is the big thing.  You’ve made a difference for me, but now I have to go.  There’s nothing left for me to do.  I can’t make it back.”

            “Ben…”  Maureen began to sob as she pleaded with me to return to her, “Ben, please, I’ve lost my father… I can’t lose you too.  I know you feel weak and you probably are really hurting right now, but Ben you can’t let that stop you.  My dad told me something that I’ll never forget and now you need to hear it: ‘Weakness can be your greatest strength.’  Please, Ben.  I know you can do it.  Just don’t give up.  Just crawl over to me.”

            Weakness can be your greatest strength… Father Torque said that on the Old Mine Road.  Is everyone reading the same cheesy quote book or is it some extreme coincidence?  I’m stronger than this.

            I slowly began crawling back down the truck and onto the truck’s freight, the bullet hole in my thigh leaking blood and caressing my leg with pain.  I crawled across the base of the freight when suddenly the truck shifted again and I nearly lost my grip.  It began sliding again toward the gorge and I heard screams coming from inside the plane.  The Vultures were abandoning it.  The truck had attached itself to the plane and the grinding sound I was hearing was the plane actually being pulled into the gorge with the truck.  The abandonment of the Vultures was making it slide so much quicker.

            “Wait!  Come back!  I need your weight in the plane!” Maureen shouted.

            I began to crawl faster toward the plane as the truck began to quickly slide down into the gorge pulling the plane along with it.  Metal gnashed against metal and I stood and began a frantic hobble toward the plane.  Finally, I made it into the broken-up nose of the plane and received a hug from Maureen.  She ran from the plane, thinking that I was following her.  I watched her stop and run around from the back of the plane’s cargo bay and shout something at me that I couldn’t hear above the grinding of the plane’s belly on the tarmac.  I couldn’t go to her yet, not without my bike.  The grinding sound became louder and the rumbling beneath my feet increased as I assumed the truck was finally weighting down the plane into the gorge.  Maureen disappeared as the plane’s cargo bay lifted off the ground and the plane began to tumble into the gorge

            I have to find my bike…

            Suddenly the truck slid off the broken bridge and tumbled into the gorge, the plane sliding along with it.  I realized a few moments later what freight the truck was carrying: hydro.  The explosion was immense and completely consumed the entire truck and plumed up into the plane.  I could feel the heat as it consumed me.  There was no escape.  I was dead.  I shut my eyes and prepared for the pain.

            Maureen watched in horror as Ben disappeared from sight as the plane’s cargo bay loomed and the plane began its descent into the gorge.  The plume of flame spat up and through the cargo bay, yielding a smell of burning metal and rubber.

            “Ben… no…” Maureen said before her eyes closed and she nearly vomited, dropping to her knees.  Suddenly a sound erupted through the back of the plane’s cargo bay that was louder than the explosion.  She recognized that sound.  Ben’s ancient cylinders.  It was Ben’s motorcycle engine.  She reopened her eyes.  The flame was exploding through the cargo bay of the plane, bringing with it the rest of Ben’s bike.  He flew off the flaming, angled cargo bay on his bike coming into full view with Melonweed junkyard owner Todd’s cigar burning between his teeth.  The wind flew through Ben’s hair and his hands – white-knuckle tight – were bound around the handlebars like a pair of vise-grips.  Every moment in time seemed to stop as he sailed through the air.  His black leather jacket brimming with fire around the edges as he neared the pavement.  Finally, Ben landed and his flaming jacket was extinguished a moment later as his front wheel hit the pavement and he spun his bike around to face Maureen. 

            His face was slightly darkened by the ash but he looked beautiful, hair blown back and every inch covered in soot, broken glass, or blood.  “Thanks for the bike repair, Maureen.”  Then he got off his bike and fell to his bloody knees in front of her just before blacking out.