whined. Every bump and loose stone in the road felt like a mule kick, but we couldn’t risk slowing down, not for a second.
I heard a new sound. A high-pitched thrumming, like a counterpoint to the shrill hum of our engines. Taking my eyes off the road was reckless at this speed, but I had to risk a split-second glimpse over my shoulder.
Now I understood why so many of the Xerxes mercenaries were holing up at the lodge instead of going out and combing the forest. They were hunting their prize the modern way. And now, as a steel body topped with four screaming blades winged down from the treetops like a blender from hell, they were hunting us, too.
“Jessie,” I shouted. “Drones!”
THIRTEEN
The drones were about the size of German shepherds, sleek and gleaming chrome in the moonlight. I saw what looked like camera nozzles on their bellies, not weapons, but they didn’t need a missile to take us out: their razor-sharp helicopter blades would do the job just fine. I jerked the handlebars left, hard, as one veered past, the ATV rocking under me while I fought to keep all four wheels on the trail. The other one shot up ahead, spinning as it dropped down in Cody’s path.
Cody careened off the trail, darting between a gap in the trees, and Jessie and I followed. My front wheels hit a divot hard enough to rattle my teeth, and I clung to the handlebars for dear life as we shot into uncharted territory. A drone came back for another pass, and I swerved left again as the screaming blades carved the air an inch from my shoulder. Trees formed a broken, jagged wall between me and the others, and I tracked them by their bouncing headlight beams as I strained to keep the ATV under control. We were going too fast for rough terrain—dangerously, recklessly fast—but we didn’t dare slow down.
Gunfire crackled as the lead drone came back around. Jessie fired off wild shots, making sparks fly. The drone warbled, spinning, and slammed into a tree at full speed. Tortured metal shrieked as the hull burst into a gout of flame, scorching the tree black, and severed rotors whipped away into the dark. One to go.
The survivor went back to harassing Cody, winging almost close enough to slash him again and again, forcing him to steer left. It’s not trying to kill us, I realized, it’s herding us, like a sheepdog. Herding us toward—
We burst from the underbrush and out onto the highway.
I hit my brakes as blinding high beams washed over me, and a wall of olive steel loomed square in our path. A firing line of mercenaries stood before the troop transport, six in all, rifles shouldered and fingers on their triggers. I screeched to a halt, Jessie and Cody pulling up short behind me. Then I put up my hands.
They took us back to the lodge. To the café, where they put our backs to the rough wooden posts in the middle of the restaurant and tied our wrists behind us, leaving us to sit and stew while they went through our pockets. This was the nerve center of the Xerxes operation: four laptop computers sat out on dinner tables, networked with thick, chunky cables to a gray metal box and a portable fan. I didn’t know what the extra gear was for, but the mercenaries were clearly traveling light, quick to set up and quick to tear it all down when the time came to flee the scene. A hit-and-fade mission, just like us.
“I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us,” Abrams said, still wearing the counterfeit silver oak leaf on his fatigues. “You killed five of my men tonight. None of you are walking away.”
“They were resisting arrest,” Jessie said.
“The only question remaining,” he said, ignoring her as he glared daggers at Cody, “is whether you get a nice, quick, clean, and painless death or we make this ugly and slow. Because I might be pressed for time, but I assure you, I can be very, very ugly.”
Jessie thumped the back of her head against her post. “ Really? He serves up a straight line that
I heard a new sound. A high-pitched thrumming, like a counterpoint to the shrill hum of our engines. Taking my eyes off the road was reckless at this speed, but I had to risk a split-second glimpse over my shoulder.
Now I understood why so many of the Xerxes mercenaries were holing up at the lodge instead of going out and combing the forest. They were hunting their prize the modern way. And now, as a steel body topped with four screaming blades winged down from the treetops like a blender from hell, they were hunting us, too.
“Jessie,” I shouted. “Drones!”
THIRTEEN
The drones were about the size of German shepherds, sleek and gleaming chrome in the moonlight. I saw what looked like camera nozzles on their bellies, not weapons, but they didn’t need a missile to take us out: their razor-sharp helicopter blades would do the job just fine. I jerked the handlebars left, hard, as one veered past, the ATV rocking under me while I fought to keep all four wheels on the trail. The other one shot up ahead, spinning as it dropped down in Cody’s path.
Cody careened off the trail, darting between a gap in the trees, and Jessie and I followed. My front wheels hit a divot hard enough to rattle my teeth, and I clung to the handlebars for dear life as we shot into uncharted territory. A drone came back for another pass, and I swerved left again as the screaming blades carved the air an inch from my shoulder. Trees formed a broken, jagged wall between me and the others, and I tracked them by their bouncing headlight beams as I strained to keep the ATV under control. We were going too fast for rough terrain—dangerously, recklessly fast—but we didn’t dare slow down.
Gunfire crackled as the lead drone came back around. Jessie fired off wild shots, making sparks fly. The drone warbled, spinning, and slammed into a tree at full speed. Tortured metal shrieked as the hull burst into a gout of flame, scorching the tree black, and severed rotors whipped away into the dark. One to go.
The survivor went back to harassing Cody, winging almost close enough to slash him again and again, forcing him to steer left. It’s not trying to kill us, I realized, it’s herding us, like a sheepdog. Herding us toward—
We burst from the underbrush and out onto the highway.
I hit my brakes as blinding high beams washed over me, and a wall of olive steel loomed square in our path. A firing line of mercenaries stood before the troop transport, six in all, rifles shouldered and fingers on their triggers. I screeched to a halt, Jessie and Cody pulling up short behind me. Then I put up my hands.
They took us back to the lodge. To the café, where they put our backs to the rough wooden posts in the middle of the restaurant and tied our wrists behind us, leaving us to sit and stew while they went through our pockets. This was the nerve center of the Xerxes operation: four laptop computers sat out on dinner tables, networked with thick, chunky cables to a gray metal box and a portable fan. I didn’t know what the extra gear was for, but the mercenaries were clearly traveling light, quick to set up and quick to tear it all down when the time came to flee the scene. A hit-and-fade mission, just like us.
“I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us,” Abrams said, still wearing the counterfeit silver oak leaf on his fatigues. “You killed five of my men tonight. None of you are walking away.”
“They were resisting arrest,” Jessie said.
“The only question remaining,” he said, ignoring her as he glared daggers at Cody, “is whether you get a nice, quick, clean, and painless death or we make this ugly and slow. Because I might be pressed for time, but I assure you, I can be very, very ugly.”
Jessie thumped the back of her head against her post. “ Really? He serves up a straight line that
Similar Books
