Deadpool Cab Novels & Stories

She then glanced at the emblem on the front of the vehicle. Though she couldn't see the license plate, the car looked very similar to Tyrone's Maybach. This scene was too familiar! Last time, Tyrone had stopped her on the street, but he hadn't directly blocked her cab like this before. Just then, the front passenger door of the Maybach swung open, and Caleb stepped out and walked straight toward the cab. He approached her and opened the back door of the cab, slightly leaning forward with a gentle smile as he looked at Heather.

"Hover-bikes, plasma lances, and orbital tracking. They aren't far behind us." Dax didn't hesitate. The Speedrun King didn't need a committee meeting to make a call. He keyed his comms. "Tank. Reaper. Sienna. Strip the Crawler of any usable ammo and med-kits. We have six VIPs. We're putting them on the pillion seats." "The Crawler is dead in the mud, Prez?" Tank asked. "Dead and buried," Dax confirmed. He looked at Captain Reyes, then at the terrified, glowing kids in the hold. "Captain, grab your rifle. You're riding with Tank. We're taking you to Coldwater."

Outside, Caleb’s cars were lined up like soldiers on parade - four shiny black SUVs and a sleek Lexus. The bodyguards stood tall by each vehicle, their eyes sharp, scanning the surroundings. One of them hurried forward, pulling open the door to the second SUV from the front. Caleb gestured for Charlotte to walk ahead, his hand resting lightly on her back as if shielding her from the curious eyes outside. They were just a step away from entering when the sharp screech of tires against asphalt tore through the quiet. Heads turned instantly. A fifth SUV, dark and menacing, skidded to a halt behind the convoy. Its wheels screeched so loudly the air itself seemed to shiver.

The third cab rolls in and I say the words doubling the fee for the ride at once and he agrees begrudgingly. Over the ride, Kai sends me map coordinates and a blueprint of the compound and we end up strategizing ways to sneak into the compound. If the cab driver seems alarmed that I'm talking animatedly to myself, he doesn't show it. An hour and a half into the journey, the cab reaches a barbed wire fence and rolls to a stop. “This as far as I take you.” “This is enough, thank you.” I give him his doubled fee as promised and he returns the double.

Bella followed him out to the parking lot that looked like a small car dealership. He took his keys out of his pocket and pressed a button. The headlights of a huge blue Silverado roared to life. It seemed to be in good condition, if a little worn and muddy on the outside. “He keeps the nice stuff in the garage,” he explained, pulling open the passenger door and offering his hand in a surprising display of chivalry. She couldn’t help but smile as she took his hand. The cab was so high off the ground she was more than grateful for the hoist up into it.