cheek, ran her fingers down the line of his jaw.
In her mind, the sight of tank of natural gas rose like a whale breaching the surface of the ocean. She looked at the weapons the men around Ash had carried. High-powered military grade weapons. She was a physicist. Facts and figures raced through her mind, volumes, quantities, weight, velocity. One of the other popular seminars she and some of the other physics teachers held was about what Hollywood got wrong. Miri had taken the ballistics section, showing the students how difficult it was to do what she planned.
If the tank hadn’t been emptied completely, though… If the contents were sold as part of the motel’s assets… There was always some little gas left in the tanks even so.
The For Sale sign was new. It couldn’t have been that long. They might not have emptied the tank at all if the gas had been paid for, it would belong to the new owner.
It might work. If nothing else, there was the chance the sound might be enough.
“Ash,” she whispered, “there might be a way.”
He looked at her.
“Will you trust me?” she asked, echoing his words to her.
There was something in Miri’s eyes, in her mind. Knowledge and a trace of doubt. It was a chance, though. He cupped her cheek and gave her words back to her. “Yes. Always.”
“Can you call up the lightning again like you did last night?” she asked.
It seemed a lifetime ago.
Eyeing her intently, Ash nodded. “I can’t project it far and I can only hit what I can see.”
She smiled a little and tilted her head at the propane tank, a white form amid the fog.
“Can you hit that on my signal?”
Looking at it, Ash smiled in return. “Yes.”
Bending Miri scooped up one of the dead men’s weapons, popped the clip and examined it as she prayed to the gods of entropy. Steel-jacketed bullets. She recognized them from the class she’d taught. She rammed the clip back into place.
“Get to the motorcycle,” she said, “If this works we’ll have to move fast.”
Miri knew Ash would die for her. If they captured her? Fear coursed through her.
If this didn’t work? What then? It was the only chance they had, if what she sensed was correct.
She didn’t know what these people wanted – her ability to manifest the planes of existence? – or what it was about her that warranted this kind of response but it supported Ash’s fear. She remembered Hargrove’s insistence, the fight in the parking lot, the sheer numbers of those that had come after them. The sheer numbers, the expense… If this didn’t work?
“Come for me, Ash,” she whispered.
Ash’s jaw tightened, as did his hand around her head, his golden eyes brilliant as he looked at her.
“Always,” he said. It was an oath.
She nodded, took a breath. “Go.”
However reluctantly, trusting her, he went.
Turning she ran on tiptoe half the length of the motel, retracing the path Ash had by following the dead men he’d left in his trail.
Ducking into a stairwell, she pointed the gun in the general direction of the tank of gas and opened fire, knowing she simply had to hit it. The walls of it were thick, though. She stitched a path down its broad side and was rewarded by the sound of the bullets as they impacted. The metal rang, she concentrated her fire on the valve. All she needed to do was introduce air to the gas or gas to the air.
Gunfire opened up around her in response to hers. It spattered from the faux brick and stucco of the motel walls, dug holes in it.
There was a roar. Ash’s motorcycle.
Even as bullets flew, out of the darkness and fog came Ash on his motorcycle.
Ash’s heart was in his throat as return fire opened up around Miri and she ran through it to meet him. She fired bursts from the weapon in her hand to force the hunters down even as bullets flew past her head.
“Ash!” she shouted, both warning and entreaty as she fired one last burst, then tossed the gun away. “NOW!”
Slamming on his brakes,
In her mind, the sight of tank of natural gas rose like a whale breaching the surface of the ocean. She looked at the weapons the men around Ash had carried. High-powered military grade weapons. She was a physicist. Facts and figures raced through her mind, volumes, quantities, weight, velocity. One of the other popular seminars she and some of the other physics teachers held was about what Hollywood got wrong. Miri had taken the ballistics section, showing the students how difficult it was to do what she planned.
If the tank hadn’t been emptied completely, though… If the contents were sold as part of the motel’s assets… There was always some little gas left in the tanks even so.
The For Sale sign was new. It couldn’t have been that long. They might not have emptied the tank at all if the gas had been paid for, it would belong to the new owner.
It might work. If nothing else, there was the chance the sound might be enough.
“Ash,” she whispered, “there might be a way.”
He looked at her.
“Will you trust me?” she asked, echoing his words to her.
There was something in Miri’s eyes, in her mind. Knowledge and a trace of doubt. It was a chance, though. He cupped her cheek and gave her words back to her. “Yes. Always.”
“Can you call up the lightning again like you did last night?” she asked.
It seemed a lifetime ago.
Eyeing her intently, Ash nodded. “I can’t project it far and I can only hit what I can see.”
She smiled a little and tilted her head at the propane tank, a white form amid the fog.
“Can you hit that on my signal?”
Looking at it, Ash smiled in return. “Yes.”
Bending Miri scooped up one of the dead men’s weapons, popped the clip and examined it as she prayed to the gods of entropy. Steel-jacketed bullets. She recognized them from the class she’d taught. She rammed the clip back into place.
“Get to the motorcycle,” she said, “If this works we’ll have to move fast.”
Miri knew Ash would die for her. If they captured her? Fear coursed through her.
If this didn’t work? What then? It was the only chance they had, if what she sensed was correct.
She didn’t know what these people wanted – her ability to manifest the planes of existence? – or what it was about her that warranted this kind of response but it supported Ash’s fear. She remembered Hargrove’s insistence, the fight in the parking lot, the sheer numbers of those that had come after them. The sheer numbers, the expense… If this didn’t work?
“Come for me, Ash,” she whispered.
Ash’s jaw tightened, as did his hand around her head, his golden eyes brilliant as he looked at her.
“Always,” he said. It was an oath.
She nodded, took a breath. “Go.”
However reluctantly, trusting her, he went.
Turning she ran on tiptoe half the length of the motel, retracing the path Ash had by following the dead men he’d left in his trail.
Ducking into a stairwell, she pointed the gun in the general direction of the tank of gas and opened fire, knowing she simply had to hit it. The walls of it were thick, though. She stitched a path down its broad side and was rewarded by the sound of the bullets as they impacted. The metal rang, she concentrated her fire on the valve. All she needed to do was introduce air to the gas or gas to the air.
Gunfire opened up around her in response to hers. It spattered from the faux brick and stucco of the motel walls, dug holes in it.
There was a roar. Ash’s motorcycle.
Even as bullets flew, out of the darkness and fog came Ash on his motorcycle.
Ash’s heart was in his throat as return fire opened up around Miri and she ran through it to meet him. She fired bursts from the weapon in her hand to force the hunters down even as bullets flew past her head.
“Ash!” she shouted, both warning and entreaty as she fired one last burst, then tossed the gun away. “NOW!”
Slamming on his brakes,
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