DISCLAIMER: This story contains subject matter not suitable for a family audience under the age of fourteen. The material contained in this work of fiction is as follows: sexual themes, gore, blood, language, and scenes depicting intense violence. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. TURN BACK IF YOU WANT TO SAVE YOUR EYES.

Black Sunshine
Chapter 1: 20 Years After
Part 3: Running For Your Life

This dramatic entrance was, at best, unexpected by the werewolves, but regardless, they got into a form just as Daddy had instructed. They sealed off all other entrances out of the ring except one - the one Nolan disrupted the party from earlier. Along that street were a thick line of hungry werewolves, invigorated by an older werewolf's presence and his rallying speech he gave before Nolan arrived at the finish line. Said older werewolf was standing at the end of the road, the line of werewolves funneling the car's only path toward the grey werewolf. He was calm, cocky. It was fixed in his mind that Nolan was going to die before the sun would shine on his body.

The old werewolf pondered how he would kill Nolan. Crush his throat? Not dramatic enough. Rip him half? Too dramatic. Slit his throat? Too slow. Stomp on his head! Too quick. Rip his heart out and show it to him? Daddy licked his chops sadistically at the thought. A fitting end, since the human had displayed such a courageous heart killing their kin so fearlessly.

Back at the decimated stage, Black Sunshine burst out of the pile, so scratched, it would have made any car owner scream. Noticing the line of werewolves around him, Nolan stomped the gas and made the car doughnut around, looking for a way out. She came to stop facing the road outline by the werewolves, coming to rest pointing straight at Daddy down the road.

Nolan looked left, and then right, like he did after he shot Todd all those hours ago. Except this time, these werewolves weren't looking at him with fear. No, this time, they were looking at him like he and his car was a can of sliced lamb on wheels. And they were the wolves. They weren't scared of him anymore. The air had changed entirely - it was now hot, heavy with anticipation and dripping with an evil hunger.

"Guess it was something I did." Nolan smirked to himself. Nolan pressed the brake and the gas. The nearly-balding rear tires started spinning against the ground again, preparing to charge out of this increasingly hostile situation. Through the filtered golden sunlight being cast down on the grey streets, the boy spotted Daddy down his only way out. Nolan's brow furrowed under his hat, and, using his hand that was on the steering wheel, pointed off to the side in a gesture that expressed "Um...out of my way?"

Daddy shook his head, smiling like a giddy school boy who was about to get a cookie for breakfast. Nolan shook his head as well, angrily, in another gesture that expressed "You don't get to say no."

With that established, Nolan lifted off the brake, the car launched, and the mob of werewolves collapsed into a massive hunting pack onto the car. The Super Snake easily pulled away from the chaos, proving herself far swifter in a straight line then the werewolves ever could be.

Nolan went from pushing hard on the gas to ruthlessly crushing it into the floor, and his car welcomed the punishment, throwing out enough torque to make the nose rise. Nolan only had eyes for Daddy, in a kind of staring contest mixed with a far more lethal version of chicken. Faster and faster she went, building on ever increasing levels of velocity, seven hundred and twenty five angry American horses roaring at everyone who dare oppose her and her driver.

Despite this intense display of mechanical engineering, Daddy seemed calm. He had it all planned out in his head. Everyone would jump on the car, weighing it down and making it slow. Daddy would then jump on the hood, and pull Nolan out of the car like he would his heart.

Daddy indulged Nolan in his staring contest. For a while and a few hundred miles an hour, he was smug. But as Nolan drew rapidly closer, Daddy noticed that despite being tremendously outnumbered, Nolan kept leering at Daddy with the most intense of hatred-filled eyes. Piercing, grey eyes that told Daddy "You're going to die." And this unnerved Daddy. Sure, he could easily pull Nolan apart, but he was going very, very fast...right for him. What's worse, no one was following the plan. Despite the moral boost Daddy provided to the teenage werewolves, they were all still reluctant to just jump onto Nolan's car like Daddy had instructed. In the back of their minds, they still feared the gun. This unnerved Daddy even more. Dammit, why won't anyone follow the plan?!

In one final and almighty burst of power, Black Sunshine left the crowd of werewolves chasing her boot behind and powered down the now tightening funnel of fur, straight on towards Daddy. Closer and closer, faster and faster. Nolan had every intention of running Daddy's grey ass over. Seemingly at the point of no return, Daddy finally lost his nerve and jumped. It was almost too late - he could feel the cool metal of the car's roof on the pads of his feet.

Nolan whooped as he shifted down into fourth to take the turn and powered around the corner, an entire legion of hungry, furry lycans trailing behind him. Nolan had a plan. The Zion was no doubt aware that he was gone by now, and had probably found out his location from the GPS Nolan installed in the car himself. Nolan picked up his CB radio.

"Mother Goose, Mother Goose, this is the Big Bad Wolf, come in. Over."

Static. Nolan tried again.

"Black Sunshine-Zion actual, please come in. Over."

"Black Sunshine, this is Zion. Uncle says you're in big trouble. Over."

Nolan smirked. "Roger that, Control. I'm about fifteen or sixteen klicks due north by north east of your current docking position, I've got fuzzies on my boot and I'm comin' in hot. Recommend you set DEFCON 1 throughout the ship. Over."

"Acknowledged, Sunshine. Setting DEFCON 1. Correction - we've moved further north up the river, about three klicks the southern tip of Manhattan. Advise you head for the Brooklyn Bridge. Over."

"Copy, haulin' ass. Big Bad Wolf out."

"Waitaminute, Black Sunshine. Do you require air support?"

Nolan bit his lip in thought. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud THUNK from a werewolf landing on his hood. "Standby, Control." Nolan immediately pulled out his sidearm from a holster he kept on the right of his seat, next to the cup holder, switched it to his left and stuck it out the window, quickly shooting said werewolf in the knee. He immediately collapsed, screaming in pain and bleeding all over the bonnet before Nolan tapped the brakes to round a corner, and the werewolf slid off, just rolling out the way before the muscle car could run him over. "Sorry about that Control. Negative on the air support. Unless they got a camera, because getting home is gonna be a fuckin' show! Over." He coughed.

He heard laughing coming from the other end. "Copy Sunshine. Door's open, bed's made, bring it home. Control out."

Nolan put the CB back onto the cradle. So Zion was closer then he thought. Perfect. That would make his trip a lot easier. All he had to do now was find a route to the Brooklyn Bridge. Nolan watched the street signs, looking for a particular street. Outside, werewolves mobbed through the allies and streets, and a few more ambitious werewolves jumped acrobatically from rooftop to rooftop, leaping over allies before Black Sunshine zipped past them, followed by the mob of werewolves.

Somewhere in that crowd stood a few faces Nolan knew - Daddy, the brown werewolf. Todd, maybe. It didn't matter. He was going to make it home, no one creature or thing was going to stop him.

Case in point. One of the runners on the rooftops foolishly leapt down into an alley and ran out in front of Nolan's car. It seemed he thought he could simply ram his body into the car and it would stop. Nolan proved him otherwise. Not letting up on the gas or changing the direction of the car, Nolan remained true to his course, and the werewolf bowed his frame. Closing the distance between them in a heartbeat, the werewolf suddenly charged forward. He bounced off the front grill, shattering and extinguishing a headlight and onto the ground, and Nolan promptly ran him over. The tires soon after started trailing blood, leaving a streak of crimson behind him as Nolan swiftly rounded a corner. One more corner would put him heading south on Broadway.

Despite the Shelby's custom racing suspension, the car still had to slow down to take the turn. Three other werewolves decided to take advantage of this opportunity to jump on his car from the roof. One landed on his hood, one on the roof, and the other didn't manage to stick the landing on the car's rather small rear end, and fell off, taking the spoiler with him. Immediately alert to the new threats, Nolan couldn't react because, again, he had to slow down to take the last turn onto the street Nolan was looking for - Broadway. Two more lycans from the street jumped onto his car. Grimacing, Nolan hit the brakes with more force than was normally required for the car, but four bodies did make the car heavier. Unfortunately, Nolan was going too fast, he hit the brakes too hard, too late, and he lost control. Panicking slightly, Nolan forced the car to careen sideways into the turn, over the curb and straight into the side of a brick wall. The window shattered, and the side mirror was flattened, and all of the werewolves were thrown off from the force of the slam.

Nolan was slightly dazed, but before could get back on the gas, he felt the car's weight shift and the entire left side of the car tilted up. He heard "Help me lift this!" and soon after those words were uttered, the other side raised as well. The werewolves were living up to their strength, as the four teenage supernaturals raised, bodies trembling with effort, the entire car clean off the ground and above their chests. But then Nolan heard "No, don't put your hand on the tire- DON'T PUT YOUR HAND ON THE TIRE!!"

Nolan slammed the gas pedal, the Super Snake twisted slightly. Barely audible over the massive engine came a sound something like a really loud snap, followed more loudly by pained screaming, the back left corner of the car came back to the ground. The now even more bloodied tire touched the ground and the car suddenly launched forward, the sound of one more body landing under his car reached Nolan's ear as the other werewolves were forced to let go of Black Sunshine, leaving the one foolish enough to stand in front of his car to be crushed.

Nolan only smiled and promptly took off, just as the mass of werewolves followed him around the corner. Immediately, body after body started landing on his car, snarling and growling and roaring. Nolan did his best to shoot off as many as he could, but for every one werewolf he shot, seemingly two more jumped on. Nolan floored the pedal to the ground, and Black Sunshine started charging down Broadway, reaching a hundred miles an hour and climbing. Nolan had to dodge swiping hands that shattered their way through his window, and he pumped round after round all throughout his car, only shooting through the windshield sparingly - he did NOT want it to shatter. It would make it too easy for the werewolves to get in. He shot this way and that way and this way again and that way again, behind him, until the inevitable happened - the clip ran out. With a swarm of werewolves on his car, the weight eventually became too much for even Black Sunshine's monstrously powerful engine to handle, and the speedometer stopped climbing at a hundred and fifty and started to decline slowly.

Trying to keep his cool, Nolan wracked his brain for ideas. He couldn't reload quickly, his speed was going down, and if this kept up, the whole werewolf pack would catch him and tear him apart. What he needed to do was recover his speed, and throw the lycans off at the same time.

Dawn came to the side of the mountain, and Nolan's eyes flickered to a battle switch and the small button next to it, each spelling a portion of the word "Goodbye" - this was his ignition for the nitrous oxide system.

Nolan smiled evilly. "Alright guys!" He hollered over his engine. "You wanna go for a ride?"

A few tipsy werewolves shouted "YEAH!"

"Alright..." Nolan breathed. He flipped the "Good" cover, and flipped the switch, and punched the now light "Bye" button. The nitrous tanks under the passenger seat dumped their fluid into the electronic fuel injection system, and it tossed it into the cylinders. The immediate effect was that the car suddenly lurched forward with a tremendous heave, throwing more than a few werewolves off the car. There was so much power behind the sudden boost that the front end raised off the ground a little bit. And when it came back down, the remaining force propelled the car down Broadway, bringing it back up to a hundred fifty and climbing even more rapidly than it did under its own power.

The snarling werewolves scattered about his battered and scratched car suddenly found themselves clinging quite literally for their lives, sinking their claws into the chassis. "YA HAVIN' FUN SO FAR?" Nolan bellowed cynically. "I CALL THIS RIDE ‘GET OFF MY FUCKING CAR!!'" Approaching a hundred and eighty miles an hour, without taping the brakes, Nolan jerked the wheel to the right. The car wobbled to the right. Nolan jerked the wheel to the left, she skittered to the left, then Nolan spun the wheel back to the right, and the car's end swung out a bit, the tires losing their grip on the road. The added weight of the werewolves added to this building momentum, and Nolan went left and right with increasing aggressiveness. The lycans on his chassis could do nothing but hold on and let their bodies be tossed around and banged into each other as the car rocked from left to right. The more aggressive Nolan became with the wheel, the more the car's end started swaying out of control, until, eventually, the momentum forced the car's end out to the right all the way past the ninety degree mark, Nolan cut the wheel all the way to the left and floored the gas, throwing the car into a completely ballistic spin-out.

What excess werewolves that didn't have a good grip were tossed bodily from the car and mercilessly flung into lampposts, walls, windows, cars, down alleyways, the lucky ones being thrown out of the car's path and into the street.

Round and round she spun, like a dementedly fast carousel, Nolan relying on his safety harness to keep him in his seat as he held onto the steering wheel as well as using all his might to keep it pressed into that all-the-way-to-the-left position. He pumped the gas periodically, ignoring the desperate sensation in his stomach that told him his last night's dinner was looking to evict itself. With all the werewolves clear of his windshield, and the car coming around to its correct direction, Nolan lifted off the gas, threw the wheel back to the right as far as it would go, and floored the abused pedal once again.

The result occurred when the car's pitch reached a near-perfect sideways ninety degree angle - it was drifting almost completely sideways down the street. While most of the supernatural monsters had been thrown from his car, about five had managed to stick to Black Sunshine's chassis. One of them was the brown werewolf that had driven the now totaled station wagon.

"He's about to lose it!" Nolan heard him holler victoriously over the painful sound of screaming tires. "Get on his right side and pull, we're going to tip his car!" Too busy trying to regain control, all Nolan could do was smile grimly, thinking to himself "I want to see them try..."

Obediently, the four werewolves, one of them a girl, all leapt and crawled over to Nolan's passenger side, and the brown werewolf swung from the front end into Nolan's door, placing his head right in the window. "Ready to die, human?" He grinned evilly.

"You first." Nolan quipped and his gun appeared, leveling with the brown's chest, hammer cocked. The brown breathed in sharply, his eyes widening in shock.

Click. Nolan still hadn't reloaded. "Gotcha." He smirked.

The werewolf wasn't laughing. "Pull!" He shouted through the window to the werewolves on the other side of the car, and they did. The effect was slow to act, but Nolan did feel the weight of the car shift towards the passenger side. If he didn't get the car straight again, it would flip, and the possibility of him escaping alive would look grim. In light of this, Nolan reached for a clip of ammo that had found its way out of the gaping glove box and onto the passenger's seat.

Air support started looking like a very good idea.

Regardless, Nolan actually let off the gas while he reloaded his gun in the hopes that the decreased power to the wheels would give the tires more leeway for grip. "Control! Control!" He cried desperately in his mind. The car started tipping. "CONTROL! CONTROL!!" The car's pitch moved back into the correct position, and suddenly the tires seized the road at the exact same moment that Nolan punched the gas and at the same moment the car's weight finally went up. The result of all this force was that, in a mighty burst of power, the car finally corrected itself, but the weight of the werewolves on the Shelby's right side also caused the car to tip onto its right side wheels. Nolan's weight as well as the weight of the brown lycan acted as a miraculously perfect counter weight.

Never in his life did Nolan dream he would drive down Broadway like the Dukes of Hazard with werewolves clinging to his car, but either way, Nolan was still in danger. The one girl werewolf giggled in a slightly tipsy manner, crooning "Whoooo!" like she was at an amusement park ride.

A flash of movement latter, followed by a loud BANG and a bullet ripped into her shoulder, promptly causing her to fall off the car and roll onto the road. She'd definitely live, given that Nolan was more merciful towards female werewolves, also given werewolves durability, but it was not likely she was going to forget a fall like that.

"NEXT SHOT KILLS!" Nolan roared, steely-green eyes flash warningly at the fuzzies on his bonnet. They didn't even wait, opting for the harsh rolling ground over a bullet, and they all let go, rolling onto the road to avoid breaking as many bones as possible.

Naturally, with the weight of the werewolves gone, Black Sunshine's left side finally started tipping back. Shock gripped the brown werewolf, bewildered that his kin had left him to die so. He looked at Nolan with that incredulous face while the car came back down. Nolan only smiled, and waved at him like he was saying goodbye to a cheerful neighbor.

The tires slammed onto the ground, the skirt sparking off ground a bit, and the brown was thrown to the ground, where he bounced with the car, and the rear tire landed on his head.

"Juicy." Nolan offered to himself, looking a little disgusted. It didn't matter. He could see the toll booths down the road that would lead him towards the Brooklyn Bridge. During the Great Hunt, or the purge of Americans, werewolves often took to destroying or defacing monuments, especially in the New York City and the District of Columbia areas. One such example was the Brooklyn Bridge. As a test of their strength, male werewolves would pull apart the cables that kept the bridge suspended for fun, determined to tear down a great construction of mankind, as a symbol to prove them mightier than man's monuments. The floor was gone from the bridge, and the stubbed ends of the bridge jutted out over the river a bit, still hanging on.

Nolan assumed Zion was going to dock near the bridge and open the hangar bay doors, and hold off any werewolves that came near until they could get Nolan safely aboard. Indeed, glancing between the buildings, the teenager caught fleeting images of the immense carrier. Now all Nolan needed to do was actually get down to the ship-

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud BANG above him - the sound of an immense weight landing on his roof; a weight so immense that it shattered the windshield.

"Aw great, now w- SHIT!" Nolan swore loudly as a grey-furred hand as big as his head thrust its way down through the roof, grabbing for his head. Nolan ducked away, and shot up through the roof, hoping to hit Daddy who was on his roof, promptly flooring the gas again, and the car started creeping up towards a hundred and seventy miles an hour.

Daddy tried again a few times to grab Nolan by punching holes in his roof, but he always missed and always got shot at. Eventually, Nolan sat upright in his seat, and Daddy tried one last time, checking his cheek and leaving a small scratch, but nothing more serious. Nolan, on a whim, actually bit Daddy's hand as hard as he could. There was annoyed yelling from up top, and the hand withdrew. Nolan hollered up through his fist- and bullet-hole-riddled roof: "THERE! I HOPE YOU TURN INTO A HUMAN!" And he laughed his crazy laugh.

A hundred eighty miles an hour.

Black Sunshine rounded her last turn, facing the final stretch of the Brooklyn Bridge with the tollbooths blocked off by a small blockade of cars, easily breakable if you were going fast enough. It occurred to Nolan that it was going to be hard for the security teams to shoot Daddy off his roof without hitting Nolan himself, so Nolan did what he did best - and improvised.

He reached for the CB. "Zion control, this is Black Sunshine. I'm afraid I'm gonna hafta make this short - I'm a quarter klick off the Bridge. Advise you clear the flight deck, and have a security team, a medical team and a wrecker on stanby. Nolan out."

A crackle came back, followed by "Say again, Nolan? Clear the flight deck?"

"10-4 Control, clear the flight deck. I'm comin' in for a crash landing." Nolan announced cynically. He put the CB back, not waiting for a reply, and heard the crackle of the metal in the roof above - Daddy was moving, and Nolan saw in a flash Daddy reaching for the door, scrunching up the metal because his grip was so powerful, and deftly ripped the door from his hinges. "HEY!" he roared, more to get his attention than express his outrage from further defacing his car. Daddy stuck his head, upside down into the car and snarled and growled at the human driver. "I'd get in if I were you."

Daddy noticed the blockade of cars and just barely managed to fit in the car before Nolan plowed through the feeble road block at a hundred and ninety miles an hour. After the slight bump, Nolan turned his crazed expression towards the grey werewolf in his car. "Comfy?" the driver asked politely.

Daddy immediately tried to lash out at Nolan, but there was one problem - he was stuck. In his haste to get into the car, he didn't leave himself a way out. He was effectively trapped, and Daddy started panicking.

"Have you made your peace with God?" Daddy turned his fearful expression towards the driver. His expression was now calm, smiling, confident. "'Cause last I heard..." Nolan shifted into sixth, and hit the nitrous one last time. "HE DON'T TAKE FUZZIES!!" He laughed manically as he was forced back into his seat, the car reached an almighty two hundred miles an hour, and the car thundered towards the end of the Brooklyn Bridge with colossal velocity. Just before reaching the end, Nolan twisted the wheel sharply to the left, the desired effect being that with the car moving at such a high speed that it turned too quickly, and the car rolled off the bridge and sailed through the air, landing on the waiting flight deck of the U.S.S. Zion. She slammed into the deck, crushing the whole right side, bounced into the air, slammed again, rolling through the air past the air-traffic control tower just as the General walked out, and the right side tires caught the deck, slowing the car down, and coming to a halt with the driver's side still in the air. This side of the car came back down with one, final crash.

The clouds still covered the sun, making it very dark, almost like the night, and the light drizzle that was developing finally grew into a steady and powerful downpour. Soldiers dashed about the deck, taking up defensive positions and stances around the broken silhouette of Black Sunshine. Orders were tossed around, someone shouting to get a spotlight on the car to assess the carnage Nolan had just wreaked.

In the cold, pouring rain, more soldiers moved about, a medical team waited a distance away, stretcher and a body bag at the ready. Those who formed a circle around the car tensed suddenly as a shadow of a body, tall and broad rose from atop the heap of car. It swayed a little, but kept its footing steady, allowing the rain to bring back his senses for him. Groaning could be heard.

Someone shouted more insistently to get that fucking spotlight working, and then it came one with a magnificent blast of light.

There amidst all the soldiers, the wreckage, and the thunder and rain stood a defiant and victorious Nolan. Scratched, cut, bruised, and bleeding out of a small cut on his cheek, but otherwise seemed okay. He looked around at his cheering countrymen, celebrating his safe return him. His gaze cast downwards and transformed into a look colder than the rain. His eyes landed on Daddy. His upper body was sticking out the back window, his back was broken, but he was still alive. Crying, sobbing, he attempted to pick himself up with his arms, lifting his head up. His eyes met Nolan's gun barrel pointing straight between his eyes.

The two arbitrary shots echoed around the deck, joining with the victorious cries of the Americans. Nolan then brought his head back up, observing his countrymen like they were all his family. His brothers and sisters.

In response to their cheers, he raised his gun hand and fired two shots - BANG BANG - into the air. This was the universal signal which simply meant one thing: I'm human.

As procedure dictated, Nolan had to be put under arrest and tested for black blood cells since he came in rather unceremoniously. To that effect, Nolan ejected the clip from his gun and tossed the weapon lightly at the feet of the security team for one of them to pick up, before being instructed to come down from the Shelby's broken form and put his hands on his head. He did so, and as he was frisked, a tall and thin man approached them, wearing green fatigues and a simple green sleeveless shirt.

He was old, but still had that look in his eye that belonged to energetic men in their twenties. His grim face contrasted sharply against this look, as if it were carved from a very taught and scarred bark. Dog tags bounced off his chest as his boots squished against the rain and the tarmac of the deck. His hair was a wispy white, with the entire top of his head was bald, leaving the tufts of white to stick out in an odd fashion. This man waited patiently as the soldiers finished their search of Nolan, relieving him of his knife and any extra ammunition he had on him.

As soon as Nolan was allowed to move again, he clicked his boots together, and his hand came up to touch the bill of his cap in a crisp, sharp salute.

"General Uncle Sam," the boy said, addressing the white-haired man by his beloved nickname. "Lance Corporal Nolan, reporting for duty, sir!"

Uncle Sam smiled warmly, and returned the salute. "At ease, marine." Nolan relaxed, and followed the General as he turned towards the flight tower. "You've got a lot of explaining to do, soldier."

Nolan smiled mischievously. "Sir, yessir."

"What do want done with your vehicle?"

Nolan glanced meagerly at his car, and waved off the seemingly and utterly totaled Shelby as if it were the smallest chore in the world. "Meh, I'll fix it later. Sir." He hastily added.

They marched to the flight tower, and went inside the ship. It was great, feeling home inside the cold, steel walls, marching down the hallways. It was almost like a parade, soldiers and civilians alike cheering him as he passed. Nolan only walked slowly, smiling as the rain fell from his sodden frame. Nolan was finally at home.