But she couldn’t avoid everything. A hump of cane chairs and tables loomed suddenly in front.
Go through them.
The cane furniture busted apart over the tray-back’s hood. As her view cleared, she thought she must have been in a 3-D movie.
The ball careening into her path couldn’t be real!
But it was. It hit the ground, gouging furrows in the floor, shaking the tray-back like an earthquake. She checked her speed against the incoming chunk of reinforced concrete. Too fast, and I’ll get creamed by the ball. Too slow, and Bora will have me.
As the huge ball bounced at a forty-five degree angle across her path, Vanessa veered the truck to the right and followed.
Suddenly she was doing it. She was following the bouncing, sliding path of the wrecking ball as it made its second destructive lap across the pedestrian loop.
Perfect.
And then, with an impact that made the tray-back shudder, a piece of the cement the size of a cinder block smacked into her windshield. It lodged there. She cried out and jerked back as the piece of concrete stopped halfway-in, halfway-out of her windshield.
Damn – I didn’t think of that. The ball is shedding pieces of cement like a comet’s tail. I can’t stop now. Just hold it together.
She couldn’t back off; she needed to follow the wrecking ball as closely as possible.
And she had bigger problems on the horizon.
On her left, furniture tumbled ahead of the cable in a tumultuous, rolling pile. Choked up with twisted debris, the cable was acting like a giant broom, sweeping everything into an avalanche of tumbling furniture.
Centrifugal force pushed the crashing, splintering avalanche down the cable.
Towards the tray-back.
As the avalanche reached the wrecking ball, like dynamite in a dollhouse, pieces of furniture started raining down around the tray-back. A large magazine stand tumbled into view. Vanessa held her driving line as the stand bounced noisily off the cab’s roof. As the stand flipped away, something heavy smacked down into the tray. She couldn’t check what it was, because a large three-seater couch was falling across her path.
So much for quiet in the eye of the storm. Now the obstacles are raining from the sky.
The air filled with a haze of cushion stuffing and cement fragments. The debris stuttered like hail across her hood.
This was a very bad idea. Oh, no!
A rubbish pallet pancake-flipped into the air, spinning towards her windshield. She snaked the tray-back left, out from under the spinning pallet, tracking the missile in her peripheral vision. The pallet smashed down outside her right window, spewing rubbish and sending metal shards tearing down the side of the truck.
Almost there. Ride it out. Just a bit further.
And then the ball swung off to her left. She cleared the debris field and rocketed out the other side in one piece.
She caught a flash of movement in the mirror. The mirror had been knocked out of alignment and now showed a very unpleasant sight.
The terrorist! He’s still back there. He’s got the pick again!
Vanessa had completely forgotten about the terrorist in the back who had been fighting Alex. If the man was lying low or knocked unconscious during the wild ride, she didn’t know, but he was certainly back there now.
Thwaak!
The pick head suddenly punched back through the roof, grazing her scalp and tearing into the top of her ear. The pain was instant and searing.
‘Arrrghhh!’ Vanessa jerked her hand over her ear. She hunkered down lower into the seat. She could only hunker down so far, and there was nothing stopping the man from swinging the pick in through the window. Sooner or later, that pick was going to penetrate her skull.
The pick head twisted into the cab roof. He’s cutting his way in here. The terrorist was opening a larger hole with the pick.
The pick disappeared, and Vanessa imagined the weapon arcing up, pausing to aim, then plunging down….
Thwaak – wrench.
On cue, the pick struck home again, this time in the middle of the cab, further from her head, but closer to the templates.
She was so focused on avoiding the terrorist’s attack that she didn’t see the creature.
She didn’t veer. She didn’t turn. She didn’t dodge.
She just ploughed straight into it.
The first she knew, the truck’s suspension cantered forward under the impact. Then the creature hauled itself up her hood.
She looked through the windshield at the hellish apparition climbing up the hood.
Well, that’s me buggered.
#
Coleman hung desperately from the pinch bar.
The pinch bar had saved his life.
As the pick swung at his head, he had no choice but to drop away from the tray. Unhooking the pinch bar, he let himself fall backwards, still grasping the webbing, but now only holding on one-handed.
Even then, the pick just missed. The maneuver left Coleman dragging beside the tray-back by one hand.
Then Bora arrived. The A-frame was still operational, even after King’s attack. Bora slammed the A-frame into the tray-back. The instant before the trucks collided above him, just before the sheering A-frame platform would have severed his wrist, Coleman dropped from the orange webbing. Falling between the vehicles, he swung the pinch bar up under the incoming A-frame.
A midair gamble, roulette with a pinch bar, but he had absolutely no choice.
With a satisfying clack of steel on steel, the pinch bar snagged a reinforcing rod on the A-frame’s undercarriage. The trucks crunched together above him, swinging Coleman’s legs alarmingly close to the tray-back’s rear wheels.
As the tray-back careened away, Coleman hung under the A-frame from the pinch bar.
He let himself get dragged for a second.
What now, wonder boy? You’re not helping anyone down here. Get moving.
He hooked his right boot up and over the side of the platform. He followed with his right hand, searching for purchase with his fingertips. After a few seconds of blind groping, he finally found some leverage. His hand trembled as he awkwardly lifted his body weight with one arm. He hauled himself onto the platform. Exhausted from the awkward climb, he dropped to his belly on the platform. His arms were spent, but he needed to keep moving.
Without warning, the A-frame shuddered like it had collided with a big animal. No, a heard of big animals. Several impacts followed. Without even seeing the threat, Coleman knew what was happening.
It was only a matter of time. The vibration of all these vehicles must be driving the creatures crazy. On the positive side, if the creatures were all heading here, then they weren’t trying to break into the Evac Center to reach David.
Thorny tentacles screeched down both sides of the platform as Bora ploughed through a pack of creatures.
Coleman rolled further onto the platform, away from the thorn-studded tentacles that came scraping along the edge.
As he found his feet, three creatures pulled themselves up onto the A-frame. The platform measured at least fifteen meters long. The steel A-frame structure itself stood four meters tall and covered three-quarters of the platform. Leaves and tree branches stuck through the top where Bora had cut through the rec-reserve.
Reaching out, Coleman steadied himself on the frame with one hand. He didn’t move his feet. The vibrations coming through the truck might dull his vibration signature from the creatures, but he couldn’t risk it. Jumping off the moving platform promised a bone-breaking landing. He searched the pedestrian loop for Third Unit. Ahead, King and Forest were still causing mayhem, dragging the wrecking ball behind the scorpion truck.
King was driving in large circles. The ball decimated the entire area. Terrorists scattered everywhere. Some were on foot, but several harried the scorpion truck on quad bikes. Coleman spotted Vanessa in the tray-back risking a crazy maneuver. She was trailing the path of the wrecking ball through the lounge wreckage. I
t offered the only possible route across the bedlam of terrorists and creatures and debris.
A creature suddenly blocked Coleman’s view. It rose between him and the A-frame’s front steering cab. Beyond the creature, Bora watched over his shoulder.
Coleman checked the other end of the platform. Two more creatures in that direction. Two of the hostiles occupied Coleman’s side of the frame. The third creature was on the opposite side of the framework. Their locations on the platform made a rough triangle around him.
The creatures tore into the platform, breaking off anything transmitting vibrations. Coleman watched them for a moment, gauging his personal safety. It felt like standing within a triangle of landmines. One step in any direction could set them off. The steel frame must have been humming like a harp to the creatures. That seemed to be the focus of their attack.
Coleman didn’t move. The truck was the creatures’ target. So long as he didn’t cause any additional vibrations, he would be temporarily safe from the creatures.
Temporarily?
Even as he thought it, he realized how absurd the situation was.
Not move? Impossible. By chance alone, the creatures’ erratic attacks would stumble into him. How long could he remain motionless when pieces of his flesh were accidentally getting torn away?
Then Coleman noticed something that made the situation much more complicated.
He had human company on the platform.
Across the frame, someone rose unsteadily to their feet.
It was the terrorist from the rear steering cab. The man must have climbed down from the cab, probably to find Coleman, just before Bora rammed the pack of creatures. He had been lying prone behind a broken branch, but now he carefully stood up and twisted his face in frustration.
He stood three meters from Coleman, on the other side of the frame. He spread his hands to keep balance.
Just one creature rampaged on the terrorist’s side of the frame. The frame itself separated the terrorist from the two creatures surrounding Coleman.
Coleman met the man’s eyes in a moment of mutual understanding. If either man moved, it would bring the creatures charging towards both of them. They each had the other’s life in their hands.
Except the terrorist had only one creature on his side of the frame. Coleman had two.
Don’t…move, willed Coleman at the terrorist. Don’t even take one step.
The terrorist broke eye contact.
Both men swayed on their feet as Bora turned the truck into a new driving line. They still headed towards King’s debris field, but now their driving angle cut through the top of the wreckage instead of following Vanessa’s path.
Coleman saw Vanessa rocket out of the debris field. She had shadowed the wrecking ball through the mayhem. Now the tray-back and the cement ball headed off at different angles. The ball continued it counter-clockwise trajectory. Vanessa kept following the pedestrian loop.
What’s Bora doing? He’ll never beat the wrecking ball in that direction. He should be cutting down past the cafeteria’s service entrance.
Bora’s intent crystallized in Coleman’s mind.
Bora wasn’t avoiding the wrecking ball.
He was driving into the wrecking ball’s path. He was adjusting his speed and driving line so the wrecking ball would swipe the rear section of the A-frame. Bora was planning to take out Coleman and the creatures at the same time. Two birds with one stone.
The terrorist realized his unfortunate place in the equation. Coleman read it in his increasingly alarmed expression.
‘Don’t move,’ hissed Coleman.
The man bent his knees, his dark, narrow eyes clearly calculating a dash back to the rear steering cab. He looked like he might try it.
‘Just don’t move!’ Coleman poured persuasion from every fiber. ‘You won’t make it.’
The man sprinted.
He made it three steps. It was two steps further than Coleman predicted.
It was the creature on Coleman’s left. Its tentacles sprung though the gaps in the framework. It caught the terrorist’s waist. The man twisted, trying to pull away, but the thorns had buried through his fatigues and flesh. In one powerful jerk, the tentacles pulled the man’s body up against the frame. The creature tried to haul the man across the platform, but his body was stuck up against the framework. A length of horizontal framework bent the man’s spine. Two more horizontal pieces braced his shoulders and knees. More tentacles looped through the frame, encircling the man’s chest and thighs. The creature started pulling the man through the frame. The frame buckled, but flesh and bone tore away first.
With a series of wet crunches, the terrorist folded backwards through the framework.
Coleman looked away from the grizzly gymnastics. It was stomach-turning stuff. He certainly didn’t want to end up like that. Glancing at the other two creatures, he realized the strong possibility existed.
The attack had attracted the other two. The one on Coleman’s right drew closer. Its tentacles thrashed the platform near his boot.
He flicked his eyes up to the wrecking ball.
He only had a few seconds. The wrecking ball and the A-frame were about to cross paths. Bora was timing the collision perfectly.
The wrecking ball bounced up, about to sweep along the platform at head height.
Coleman dove into the framework. He aimed for the gap underneath the frame. As he landed on the platform, right under the frame, the wrecking ball made devastating contact.
#
Forest spun in his seat.
Everything was going to hell in a handbag. The Captain was missing in action. Vanessa was driving with a creature climbing up her hood. And co-piloting the scorpion truck felt about as safe as playing Twister in a minefield.
Forest looked down the scorpion’s back and checked the crane’s mountings. Two more heavy-duty bolts had torn lose. Only half the original bolts remained. The crane listed backwards over the rear wheels.
‘The crane’s tearing off,’ warned Forest.
‘It’ll hold,’ grunted King.
‘It won’t,’ countered Forest. ‘I’m looking right at it. It’s already halfway gone.’
‘It’ll hold!’
Forest groaned and checked the crane again. The remaining four heavy bolts lifted under the pressure. King was wrong about the crane. It won’t hold.
#
Cairns railed at his men’s incompetence.
How hard is it to stop a single truck?
No sooner had the remaining quad bikes navigated the furniture debris field than the oncoming wrecking ball forced them to retreat.
And now the creatures had arrived on the scene.
It’s time for Plan B
Cairns rolled up his sleeve. Strapped to his left forearm rested a slim black box with a snub-nosed antennae. The box represented his insurance policy. Nobody else knew about this device. The black box had one button and two indication lights. Should I use it now?
He’d planned to use the device as a last resort. He wasn’t supposed to activate the device before securing the templates. If I don’t use it now, I may never get the chance.
He pressed the button. A green light activated on the box. It needed a few minutes to take affect, but he’d done the right thing. Too many variables clouded the battlefield. This should remove a few.
Hiding the device again, he tracked the path of one desperately retreating quad bike. The rider struggled to control the unfamiliar vehicle. He wasn’t balancing his weight correctly over the bike. Escaping the bouncing path of the wrecking ball, the rider suddenly found the bike aquaplaning out of control. He hit the water-slick pouring from the demolished fountain. Completely out of control, sliding sideways, the quad bike aquaplaned straight into the fountain wreckage.
The front left wheel collapsed inwards. The bike spun upwards through the air. The rider catapulted straight over the fountain. He cartwheeled through the air for thirty feet.
Cairns watched the
man hit the floor hard.
Beyond the crumpled gunman, one of the heavy pallets Cairns had used as a roadblock launched off the wrecking ball cable like a behemoth’s slingshot. The pallet flew through the scattered debris like a stone skipping across water. It smashed through a glass front of a hairdressers’.
Cairns resisted the strong urge to give the ‘open fire’ order.
Things are complicated enough.
The gunfire would draw the creatures’ attack from the scorpion truck and its pulverizing payload. Cairns watched a quad bike veer cautiously around a creature scrambling towards the wrecking ball.
The creatures aren’t attacking the quad bikes.
The vibrations caused by the quad bikes seemed inconsequential to the creatures compared to the vibrations from the A-frame and the scorpion truck.
‘You.’ Cairns pointed out a gunman idling a quad bike nearby. ‘Give me that bike.’
The man obligingly jumped off, leaving the bike idling.
Cairns threw his leg over the bike and stared into the arena of high-speed destruction.
If you want a job done properly, you need to do it yourself.
Thumbing the bike’s accelerator, he popped the quad bike up on two wheel and powered straight into the mayhem.
#
Bora felt the A-frame violently shudder as the wrecking ball swept down the platform.
It wasn’t as bad as when the ball had hit the cab. He glanced over his shoulder to assess the damage.
The impact had wiped out the steel frame and the rear steering cab. The rear cab had torn right off the platform. Nearly severed, the cab was dragging behind the truck. The steel A-frame structure lay flattened over the platform, crushed down into an unrecognizably twisted mess of steel. One creature had been knocked completely off the platform. Two other creatures struggled under the twisted steel. Bora knew the creatures wouldn’t be trapped for long. Their tentacles already started warping the steel towards escape. He heard the metallic whine of the frame twisting around the two pinned creatures.
Fast Page 30
