Max Arena (36 page)

Max thought for
a moment and then replied. ‘No. Not in this weather with all these
people about. It’s too risky.’

‘Want me to
dial up Elsa and tell her we’ll be late?’ Peter asked.

Max thought
again for a moment and then asked, ‘Are the fireys or paramedics on
the scene up ahead or are they stuck in traffic just like us?’

‘Let me check,’
Peter said and then a minute later returned. ‘Looks like there’s
one fire truck on site with another struggling through the traffic
jam a kilometre behind us. No sign of any paramedics. I’d think
about that air lift, Max. This isn’t going to get sorted out in a
hurry.’

Max pondered a
little more and then said, ‘Get Elsa on the line and patch it
through to my headset. I’m going for a walk.’

‘Not sure
that’s a good idea, mate,’ Peter said as casually as he could.
‘What’s on your mind?’

‘Time for some
air,’ Max replied as he grabbed his training bag and pulled out his
training headset and a white cap.

Retying his
laces to make sure they were firm, Max then moved across and reefed
open the sliding door. A grey veil of streaky rain filled the
opening. Beyond it sat three lanes of stationery, smoking cars.
Stepping out of the van, Max looked at the bright orange Team Max
Land Cruiser directly behind his van and watched three of his
security detail step out into the rain, their spray jackets
concealing whatever weapons they carried underneath.

Turning the
other way, Max found another matching orange Land Cruiser in front
with two more security personnel already on the bitumen next to it.
Then the front door of his own van swung open and out hopped Peter,
minus the customary sun glasses. Peter looked directly at Max.

‘Any chance,’
Peter started, ‘I can convince you to get back inside?’

Max put on his
cap and then slipped his headset over the top. ‘Sorry, mate,’ he
said, shaking his head.

‘I know where
you’re going,’ Peter added, ‘and while I think it’s swell you to
want to try and help out up there at the crash, we should leave it
to the experts.’

Don’t worry,
mate. It’ll be fine.’

Peter looked
around as the rest of his security team converged on them, forming
a tight cluster amongst the stranded traffic. ‘Max, the saviour of
the world doesn’t just go for a walk through a jammed freeway and
not cause a scene. Especially when you’ve still got your orange
shoes on and a six person security detail surrounding you. This is
not
just a walk.’

Max also took
in the surrounds. Peter was right. He was already dragging
attention in like a fishing trawler. Every car window in sight was
wound down with faces gawking out. The camera flashes too had
already started, the gloomy conditions not deterring anyone. Max
knew that in minutes, his walk would be all over the internet. He
turned back to Peter.

‘Well, let’s
get on with it. After you,’ Max said, gesturing forward with his
arm.

Peter eyed him
off from beneath a furrowed brow and nodded. Quickly he barked some
commands to his team and they set off. Two of Peter’s team led the
way, followed by himself, then Max and finally the last three of
his team. In a tight single file, the group made their way down the
dotted line separating the adjacent lines of stopped cars.

From his
headset, Max heard a phone number being dialled and then a ring
tone. A few seconds later, Elsa’s voice sounded.

‘Hey, honey,’
Elsa said sweetly. ‘Whatcha doing?’

‘Trying to get
home.’

‘Be a lot
faster if you got back in the van.’

Max kept
walking, but baulked in replying. Clandestinely, he flicked his
gaze skyward. ‘How do you know I’m not in the van?’

‘Facebook.’

‘I’m
already
on Facebook?’

‘TV too. Live
feed. You know, it’s not fair that every time you get ants in your
pants, you drag Peter and his team out to chase after you?’

‘They love it,’
Max said as he noted the now steady stream of camera flashes around
them. ‘Makes them feel important.’

‘They
are
important, dear.’

Max nodded as
he watched Peter’s lead team members push a person back into his
car and close the door on him.

‘Yeah. Sorry,’
he replied. ‘You’re right. I shouldn’t be flippant about that.’

‘What
are
you doing anyway? It’s not really the place for a
walk?’

‘There’s an
accident up ahead. The fireys are on site and I figured I could
take a back seat and get stuck here for hours away from you and the
kids or I could go lend a hand and maybe speed things up a
bit.’

A pause on the
other end. ‘Ok,’ Elsa finally said. ‘You do what needs doing. We’ll
make sure dinner doesn’t go cold.’

‘Thanks, honey.
Knew I could count on you.’

‘Max?’

‘Yeah?’

‘You’re a good
man and I love you.’

‘I know. I’ll
see you soon. Bye.’

‘See ya.’

The line went
dead. Max looked in front. People were now out of their cars and
filling the gaps between the vehicles, waiting for him to pass by.
The shouting and camera flashes were constant and Peter’s team were
working much harder to clear a path. Over the tops of the heads,
Max could see the fire truck up ahead, its red and blue lights
flashing on top of the cab, the rain making the colours
sparkle.

A few minutes
later, Peter’s team broke through a thick ring of bystanders to
step out into a clearing in the middle of the multi-lane road. The
freeway at this point had elevated to three storeys off the ground
to cross over a major urban arterial below. Up here the wind had
also picked up and despite the slight chill, Max felt no
discomfort, his sleeveless, full length black training compression
suit, white cap and orange shoes all he had on.

The centrepiece
of the clearing was a mangled mass of steel, rubber and broken
glass. Three cars had come to grief, clearly while at high speed.
Rain diluted oil and petrol coated the bitumen all around, giving
the ground a greasy look and filling the air with a petrochemical
reek, but none of this deterred the firemen on site.

Four of them
crawled all over the wreckage, the pouring rain not slowing them
down as they shouted orders and instructions to each other. Two
other firemen crouched off to the side, administering first aid to
two semi-conscious people laid out on blankets.

Amidst the
chaos, another distinct human sound rang shrilly out. Screams. Max
lowered himself down onto his haunches and peered into the darkness
inside the twisted pile of junk. The persistent flashing of the
fire truck’s lights lit up a face.

Deep inside the
wreckage of the middle car, a young girl hung upside down,
screeching uncontrollably. All Max could see was her face and the
blood streaming down it. The purpose of the four firemen working
the wreckage was now clear. Free the girl and do it quickly. All
four men pulled, clawed and tore at the steel with hammers, cutters
and their gloved hands. It was desperate stuff and from Max’s
viewpoint, it looked dire.

Casting a quick
glance around the ring of bystanders, Max noted that the crash
itself was no longer the centre of attention. He was. All eyes had
turned to him. He could even see a few hopeful people holding out
notepads and pens for autographing. Max clenched his fists. He had
not come down here to turn the situation into a circus. He had come
to help.

None of the
firemen had noticed Max and his security detail’s arrival, so Max
walked across to the two firemen attending to the injured people
off to the side. One of the men sensed movement and looked sideways
to find two orange shoes. He then flicked a look up and found the
rest of Max. After a full two seconds of his brain registering the
image, the fireman’s eyes widened.

‘Chief?’ he
called out. ‘Look at this!’

Max turned back
to the wreckage and watched as one of the firemen, who was bent
over and attempting to lift a twisted piece of steel, turned
without straightening. He squinted through the rain and similarly
to his colleague, after a few seconds’ cogitation, realised who he
was looking at. Releasing his grip on the wreckage, the Fire Chief
jumped down to the bitumen and walked over, finger pointing at
Max.

‘Tell me you’re
not just a Max groupie?’ he shouted.

‘I’m not just a
Max groupie,’ Max replied, stepping toward him. ‘It’s really me. We
got caught in the jam like everyone else and seeing as your buddies
are still aways back down the road, I wanted to see if there was
anything I could do to help?’

The Fire Chief
stood and thought for a moment, his composure astonishing amidst
the screaming, the rain and hundreds of onlookers now surrounding
them. Then he nodded.

‘Maybe there is
something you can do,’ he said. ‘Come with me.’

Max followed
the chief as he turned and led him around to the far side of the
wreckage. Peter and his team hurriedly moved with them, trying to
keep an unbroken shield between Max and the surrounding crowd. The
chief stopped and Max stepped up next to him.

‘Our hydraulic
tools aren’t working and we can’t wait for the other crew to get
here to help,’ the chief started. ‘This girl’s in a bad way and
we’ve got to get her out
now
, but all we’ve got are our
manual tools and our bare hands.’

‘So what do you
want me to do?’ Max asked, inspecting the wreck.

‘We need to
lift her car about three feet higher to clear her door of the
wreckage next to it and get it open, but the car obviously weighs a
tonne and we can’t get enough hands around this bit of chassis here
to lift the thing,’ the chief said, putting his hand onto a
crumpled part of the rear of the girl’s car. ‘There’s only enough
space for one set of hands.’

As he finished
his explanation, the chief looked up at Max, his meaning crystal
clear.

Max held his
hands up. ‘They’re all yours’, Chief.’

A grim smile
lined the fireman’s face. ‘Put these on, mate,’ the chief ordered
as he took off his own gloves and handed them over. ‘I’ll get a
spare set and get the boys organised.’

The Fire Chief
turned to jog back around the mass of twisted junk, but then
stopped and turned back.

‘Max, we don’t
get this girl out now, she dies,’ the chief said, his eyes hollow
and dark. ‘You really think you can lift this thing?’

Max’s eyes
gleamed blue steel in return, his gloved hands clenched by his
sides. ‘Get your boys ready to open that door.’

The chief
nodded silently and turned away to start jogging again. Max watched
him go and then looked down at where he was going to grip his hands
onto the steel. Off to the side, but not far away, Peter stood
mute, transfixed by the transformation Max had undergone. He had
seen it many times already, but it never failed to stun him.

Instantly, Max
could go from calm and relaxed to pure, lethal purpose and right
now, Max was all purpose. He radiated it from head to toe. His
entire frame was taut and cocked, but fully controlled. Peter had
never, ever seen anyone or anything like it.

A shout from
the other side of the wreck dragged Peter’s attention away. Max
also looked up and he found the Chief with three of his team all
standing by the blocked driver’s door of the girl’s car. Her
screams had become weaker. Time was almost out.

Even the crowd
sensed the heightened urgency. They had become restless. The camera
flashes were incessant. The shouts of encouragement even louder.
Peter’s team were really starting to struggle to hold the crowd
back from pushing in to where Max stood. Something had to be done,
right now.

‘Ready, Max?’
the chief shouted.

Max half
squatted and gripped the piece of chassis with both hands, squaring
his feet up on the bitumen as he did, the soles of his feet
scratching and crunching. The wet steel was slippery in his gloved
fingers, but his hands gripped the wreckage like twin vices,
clamped and firm. Then without looking back at the chief, Max’s
eyes fixed level and unseeing on the wreckage in front of him.

‘Ready!’ he
called back.

‘Lift!’ the
chief yelled.

Max’s focus
instantly drew inwards. While he remained aware of the world around
him, it faded into the background. The rain softened. The shouts of
the masses dulled. The screams of the young girl drifted away.
Inside himself, Max searched for energy and like turning on a
switch, he found it.

Power ripped
through every molecule of his body like a mass of unleashed
lightning bolts. Energy surged out from his core to every point in
his being. Through the taut mass of muscles in his legs and down to
the soles of his feet flat on the rain-soaked bitumen. Up the
length of his bunched back and along his arms to the tips of his
fingers as they gripped the steel through his heavy gloves. Even
into his eyes as they blazed brilliant blue in the gathering gloom,
and then Max lifted.

Grinding steel
screeched and unbroken glass popped as the mangled chassis started
to rise, Max’s brute strength forcing it to come clear of the
ground. The four firemen screamed encouragement. The throng of
onlookers raised a supporting roar. Only Peter looked on silently,
his awe overwhelming him.

The wreckage
continued to rise higher. The cheering rallied even more, but Max
heard nothing. All his focus fixed on every straining muscle,
tendon and sinew in his body. He could feel the bite of the steel
through his gloves. He could feel the unforgiving hardness of the
bitumen beneath his feet. He could especially feel the weight of
the wreckage trying to drive him through the ground as it
begrudgingly rose upwards.

‘One more foot,
Max!’ the chief shouted. ‘One foot higher!’

Max’s awareness
plucked the chief’s voice out from the background. He knew he was
close to success, but Max also knew that if he dropped the wreckage
now, it could injure the young girl even more and maybe even kill
her instantly?