Station Breaker

25 Walkway to Heaven

With a Russian kill team chasing me, two snipers lurking somewhere in the stadium and a scared passenger in the back who keeps saying the same prayer over and over, I, David Dixon, master pilot and awesome driver, have not only managed to miss the damn exit to this stadium, but done the worst possible thing imaginable — I've driven my bullet-ridden stolen ambulance onto the walkway that leads to the upper level where I first encountered the snipers.

Yep, I just hit do-over, but this time all the bosses are here and ready to blow me away.

Ahead of me there's a ramp switchback. In the passenger-side mirror I can see the Russian kill team racing after me. Choices…

For a fleeting second I think about not turning the wheel and seeing what would happen if I tried to just drive straight off the ramp.

Would I burst through the wall and fly into the air and then land like The General Lee in the Dukes of Hazzard? Or would I smash into the steel-reinforced concrete and get thrown through the cracked windshield and have my body tumble to the earth, smashing my spine and skull as I hit the sidewalk?

I decide to make the sharp turn.

I get some nice acceleration going up the ramp but have to brake right away as it levels off and I see that beyond the shadow of the roof of the stadium, I'm about to hit a wall.

Whatever fantasy I had about driving straight down the steps and back onto the field to find another exit is destroyed by inconvenient reality. There's not just the wall, there's the fact that this upper section and the lower section are separated by a twelve foot chasm. Feel that sharp pain in your ankles, David? That's what happened last time you tried to make the jump.

The Russians are still probably running up the ramp, which gives me a spare few seconds.

I slam on the brakes after making it a quarter way around the upper deck. "Get out!" I yell at my passenger.

He bails out of the back door without even so much as a thanks and runs into the stadium. And to top it all off, the asshole left the back doors open.

BANG!!! A bullet fires from somewhere. I don't wait to stick my finger in the air and gauge windspeed and direction.

I push the gas pedal into the floor and race the ambulance down the deck, trying to find an exit before the shooters get to me.

I whiz past an entire open section that looks out into the stadium. The field is still clear and I don't see any bodies on the grass; so that's good.

I turn my head back to the path in front of me and see a Workman putting his rifle on top of a trash can and aiming it at me.

How did that asshole get up here so quickly?

My first impulse is to duck and try to swerve past him in the narrow corridor. Then something darker takes over.

Fuck him.

I aim the vehicle straight at him.

His eyes go wide and he realizes that even if he shoots me, the van is going to smash him like a bug.

His own survival instincts take over and he abandons his position and leaps into a row of seats just behind him.

Reinforcing the wisdom of his decision, the ambulance bumper bashes into the trash can and catapults it across the corridor, sending his sniper rifle into a wall.

I'm not sure how I feel about the fact that I didn't get to run him over.

I try to pay attention to the signs, looking for a way out. But I'm faced with two problems; I can't read Portuguese and it's not like I'm in a parking garage where the designers put in signage to help a van-sized vehicle navigate safely through. This was made for people, not psychopaths in stolen ambulances.

Just past the bend up ahead, I spot a wide open section leading to what I hope is another ramp like the one I drove up.

If not, my only alternative is to try to go all the way around and go back down the way I came up — which would be suicide.

I assume all the killers trying to kill me know this place better than me. If there's no other way out, then the smart thing is to just wait for the gringo to come back and ambush him with all the shooty things they have.

I slow down and turn into the open section, hoping that it's just not a cliff they were too lazy to put caution tape over.

Bingo! I'm back in sunlight and heading down another ramp. I take the turn at the switchback a little too hard and scrape the side of the van on the concrete wall.

SHIT! I almost hit a yellow-vested security guard. He jumps clear and starts screaming at me.

I know, buddy. I know. It's that kind of day.

The walkway leads back into the stadium lobby.

Fucking great.

But this is a whole new section I haven't had a chance to destroy yet.

I tear the van through a row of food kiosks and nearly come to an abrupt stop on a concrete pillar.

Seriously guys, less of those next time?

There's a huge glass wall to my right with a set of doors that opens onto a plaza.

The ambulance is too big for the doors, but I decide to take my chances.

I aim straight through the middle, grip the wheel and curse myself for not putting on a seatbelt.

SMASH!!! There's a shower of broken glass and twisted aluminum as I rip the doorway out of the building.

I take the van down the walkway and along the fence until I see a gate being opened by another yellow-vested security guard.

He waves as I pass, probably assuming that I'm trying to take some injured person to the hospital.