thinking … quick is good.”
“Right,” Raine said again, dully. As if it was an obvious fact.
Right.
“Eyes open. Got it? I’m Dan Hagar.” He looked over at Raine and grinned. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah.”
Raine held the gun tight. And now, like some primal memory returning, he let his hand slide down to the trigger. He looked down at the gun. He didn’t know the brand, looked almost homemade. Like a standard army issue M16 rifle someone pieced together. But it was a weapon he guessed he could shoot. One that—
(It came back to him …)
—he had killed with.
He was good.
A good shot. He remembered that now.
The buggy screamed into the chasm made by two stony fingers of what looked to be the beginning of a pair of mountain ranges.
Raine’s hand tightened around the trigger hold.
“Where are we?” he said.
“What?”
Then louder.
“Where are we? Where
are
we—”
“Time for that when we’re out of here. Shit—goddamn—”
Raine looked ahead. A ragged metal chain—laced with twisted pieces of sharp metal, a spiky net—suddenly rose up, shutting off passage through the chasm.
Raine glanced up. He saw movement on either side of the ravine.
As they roared into the trap.
“Get that gun up. And … hold on.”
The vehicle went even faster toward the metal barrier ahead.
TEN
QUESTIONS
T he vehicle flew over the pits and rocky outcrops, shaking Raine left and right crazily.
“Hold on!” his savior repeated unnecessarily. Then, despite the roar of the motor, Raine could hear a new sound: the ricochet of bullets hitting the body of the vehicle.
And still the buggy barreled on, and the barrier still lay dead ahead, ready to rip into the tires, chassis … and passengers of the car.
Which is when Dan reached down and pulled a lever. The front of his buggy groaned, and a metal flap in front folded forward. A piece of metal with spikes that extended like spears, all protruding from a piece of steel with razor teeth that shot a hundred sparkling reflections of the sun back at Raine.
We’re going straight through the thing?
Hold on indeed.
The buggy ran into the suspended grid of twisted wire and hooks, and its strange cowcatcher sliced it in two. The cut pieces snapped back with a howling shriek, flying to either side. As they passed the now useless barrier, Raine saw the bandits racing away from the whiplash of the chain.
And he watched one who wasn’t so lucky as the rapid snap-back of the metal trap wrapped itself around him like a snake, swatting him down to the ground while planting hooks into his side. It was gruesome, but there wasn’t time to think too much about it, as more gunshots rang out. From the side. Raine looked left. Dan had a handgun out.
“C’mon,” he said to Raine. “
Shoot
the goddamn gun!”
In the mad race for the ravine, Raine had forgotten about the gun in his hands. He lifted it and started looking up at the cliffs above them, checking on both sides. Figures scurried along the edge, all holding guns.
Despite the bumping and jumping of the buggy, Raine brought the gun up and fired, and one of the bandits fell off the cliff.
Then another shot. A miss. Return fire sent a bullet flying inches in front of Raine, drilling a hole right down into the floor of the vehicle.
Raine swung his rifle around to the side and started to fire faster. He shot one bandit just as he was taking aim.
“Nice work. Keep it up.”
Can’t be an endless supply of these bastards, Raine thought.
But ahead, at least two more. Crouched on the rocky ledge, well covered.
“They’re going for the tires!” Dan said.
In response, he started swerving sharply right and left anticipating their shots—but also making it nearly impossible for Raine to aim.
Then the buggy steadied, going straight.
Raine didn’t need to be told what to do.
The sniper to the left took a shot to the head. Raine wheeled right. A second shooter was firing away, but now with the car
“Right,” Raine said again, dully. As if it was an obvious fact.
Right.
“Eyes open. Got it? I’m Dan Hagar.” He looked over at Raine and grinned. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah.”
Raine held the gun tight. And now, like some primal memory returning, he let his hand slide down to the trigger. He looked down at the gun. He didn’t know the brand, looked almost homemade. Like a standard army issue M16 rifle someone pieced together. But it was a weapon he guessed he could shoot. One that—
(It came back to him …)
—he had killed with.
He was good.
A good shot. He remembered that now.
The buggy screamed into the chasm made by two stony fingers of what looked to be the beginning of a pair of mountain ranges.
Raine’s hand tightened around the trigger hold.
“Where are we?” he said.
“What?”
Then louder.
“Where are we? Where
are
we—”
“Time for that when we’re out of here. Shit—goddamn—”
Raine looked ahead. A ragged metal chain—laced with twisted pieces of sharp metal, a spiky net—suddenly rose up, shutting off passage through the chasm.
Raine glanced up. He saw movement on either side of the ravine.
As they roared into the trap.
“Get that gun up. And … hold on.”
The vehicle went even faster toward the metal barrier ahead.
TEN
QUESTIONS
T he vehicle flew over the pits and rocky outcrops, shaking Raine left and right crazily.
“Hold on!” his savior repeated unnecessarily. Then, despite the roar of the motor, Raine could hear a new sound: the ricochet of bullets hitting the body of the vehicle.
And still the buggy barreled on, and the barrier still lay dead ahead, ready to rip into the tires, chassis … and passengers of the car.
Which is when Dan reached down and pulled a lever. The front of his buggy groaned, and a metal flap in front folded forward. A piece of metal with spikes that extended like spears, all protruding from a piece of steel with razor teeth that shot a hundred sparkling reflections of the sun back at Raine.
We’re going straight through the thing?
Hold on indeed.
The buggy ran into the suspended grid of twisted wire and hooks, and its strange cowcatcher sliced it in two. The cut pieces snapped back with a howling shriek, flying to either side. As they passed the now useless barrier, Raine saw the bandits racing away from the whiplash of the chain.
And he watched one who wasn’t so lucky as the rapid snap-back of the metal trap wrapped itself around him like a snake, swatting him down to the ground while planting hooks into his side. It was gruesome, but there wasn’t time to think too much about it, as more gunshots rang out. From the side. Raine looked left. Dan had a handgun out.
“C’mon,” he said to Raine. “
Shoot
the goddamn gun!”
In the mad race for the ravine, Raine had forgotten about the gun in his hands. He lifted it and started looking up at the cliffs above them, checking on both sides. Figures scurried along the edge, all holding guns.
Despite the bumping and jumping of the buggy, Raine brought the gun up and fired, and one of the bandits fell off the cliff.
Then another shot. A miss. Return fire sent a bullet flying inches in front of Raine, drilling a hole right down into the floor of the vehicle.
Raine swung his rifle around to the side and started to fire faster. He shot one bandit just as he was taking aim.
“Nice work. Keep it up.”
Can’t be an endless supply of these bastards, Raine thought.
But ahead, at least two more. Crouched on the rocky ledge, well covered.
“They’re going for the tires!” Dan said.
In response, he started swerving sharply right and left anticipating their shots—but also making it nearly impossible for Raine to aim.
Then the buggy steadied, going straight.
Raine didn’t need to be told what to do.
The sniper to the left took a shot to the head. Raine wheeled right. A second shooter was firing away, but now with the car
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