"Paint
grenades," Tricia replied, "The paint-on-the-windscreen trick
doesn't always work, though." She loaded her grenade launcher.
"What'd
we do if we're hit by one?"
"You'll
have to drive with the front cam." Tricia took a glimpse over
her shoulder. "And is this the fastest you can go?"
The boy
glanced at the side mirror on Tricia's side. One of the two remaining
buggies was closing on their right. Two of the occupants, armed with
rifles, leaned out and opened fire. Bullets clattered on the side of
the Vixen vehicle.
George
let out a squeak of surprise. He was being shot at! Oh wait, they
were shooting at the other side of the pickup.
"Try
to keep them on the right," Tricia said. She switched to the
assault rifle. Leaning out to the side, she took aim. "Damn it,
I'm not good with the left hand!" Nevertheless, she fired a
burst.
"Uh,
Tricia." What George saw on the side mirror had him worried.
"The other's coming up on the left."
Tricia
grabbed the grenade launcher. "Hold it steady, I'm going to
block your view for a moment." With a hand holding her weapon
and her other gripping the roll bar above for support, she reached
out of George's side of the vehicle. "Hah, right hand!"
George
lowered his head so he could see under Tricia's arm.
Tricia
took careful aim and fired a shot. Through the side mirror, George
saw a flash accompanied by a snap. There was a puff of smoke on the
side of the opposing vehicle.
The
Vixen fired another shot. That one must have gone in through the side
window for George saw a burst of smoke through the windscreen of the
other vehicle. That buggy slowed to a stop.
The
occupants were probably still alive - George saw a moving arm poking
out of a window. Plus they were likely to be wearing armor.
"Keep
your eyes on the front," Tricia reminded him.
Their
last opponent drew closer on the right.
Tricia
tried to aim out her side of the vehicle with the grenade launcher.
"Ugh, can't aim this left-handed," she muttered.
She
switched her weapon to her right hand. Then, as she pressed her back
against the windscreen, she steadied herself against the back of her
seat. She leaned out the window. The Vixen immediately drew back to
avoid a burst of gunfire.
Once
more, Tricia tried peeking out the side. Seeing a chance, she snapped
off three shots.
Suddenly,
the buggy dropped back.
"Are
they gone?" George asked.
"We're
not in the clear yet," Tricia replied as she reloaded the
grenade launcher, "The armored one's back."
George
glanced at the rearview mirror. The station wagon was indeed back.
The wasters had somehow cleared enough of the paint from the
windscreen.
"Pull
over and surrender," the waster on the loudspeaker demanded
again. That time, the ultimatum was accompanied by a burst of gunfire
that shook the Vixen pickup.
More
bullets, larger bullets were flying! George drove harder.
Tricia
sighed. "Looks we'll have to pull out one of our own." She
pushed a few virtual buttons on the datapad.
George
heard something behind him whir. When he glanced over his shoulder, he
saw a large gun sliding out of the narrow box between the back seats.
"We had a machinegun!?"
Tricia
concentrated on her datapad. "It's a high-caliber gun with light
recoil compensation. The vehicle will swerve if it's fired to the
side. I didn't want to bring it out until you're ready for the added
challenge."
Another
short volley of bullets hit the back of the pickup. George squeaked
again. He leaned further from his windowless side of the vehicle.
No comments:
Post a Comment