Michael

twenty-one

The militia refused to recruit women for active duty. If the guard saw her face they'd be discovered.

While Liz's mind frantically searched for a plausible reason to decline, Michael stepped closer, as if to inspect the pannier, and snatched the suspicious guard's pistol right out of his grasp. Liz hadn't even noticed him reaching for it.

"Take one step back," Michael instructed. The pistol was now aimed squarely at the guard's abdomen, held just out of sight of any casual observer.

The guard gave a wry, self-depreciating smile and raised his hands, palms out. "Fast moves there, friend. I guess this means you're the vamp we're after?"

"That would be me, friend. Lower your hands. There's no need to alert anyone else to our little drama."

The guard did as he was told. He seemed to relish saying, "You should tell your girlfriend to do a better job of hiding her hair. You'd have got away with it if she had."

Liz's heart sank at his words. They'd been so close to getting away. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This was her fault. Guilt rolled sickly in her belly. Michael was standing between the two bikes. The guard was standing near her rear wheel. To an onlooker it would appear as if they were conversing. She knew a stalemate was no answer though. They couldn't stay out in the open all day. At some point, they'd be noticed.

"Michael," she said tensely. "They wouldn't kill me straight away, not if I gave myself up and insisted on speaking to the Chief Constable. Give me the gun and get going. I'll keep him quiet until you get clear."

He refused to even consider it. "Not going to happen. Be quiet, Liz."

"For heaven's sake, this isn't a 'yes', or 'no' scenario. We don't have another option—"

Dark, furious eyes slid briefly her way. "Shut up, Liz."

There was a shout just behind and to the left of them. The guard jerked his head to the side as if in answer to being called. Michael and Liz glanced over as well. Taking advantage of that momentary distraction, the guard lashed out at Liz's rear wheel. His kick dislodged something that resulted in an explosive hiss of gas. The bike shot drunkenly into the air as if catapulted with Liz still onboard. She saw the armoured aerial vehicle coming into land out of the corner of her eye, but couldn't avoid the collision. The bike was out of her control.

In that split-second, she saw the AAV driver's aghast face. He tried to take evasive action and the vehicle did a one-eighty, the rear end slewing through the air towards her. The side passenger door smacked the back wheel of her bike in mid-air. Liz felt a tremendous, agonising jolt in her arms, echoed in her body at the impact. She and the bike were launched across the quadrangle.

▫▪▫

Michael back-handed the guard with all of his strength, making sure the butt of the pistol caught him full in the face, shattering bone. By the time the asshole hit the ground, Michael was racing across the quadrangle. Anger was gone, replaced with terror. Liz had to be ten meters off the ground at least. Could she survive a fall from that height?

The AAV came out of nowhere. He hadn't heard the engine, distracted by Liz. When the vehicle collided with the bike, it sent both bike and rider flying through the air. Michael bellowed a denial. The impact crushed the entire back half of the bike, sending them smacking into the tower on the opposite side of the quadrangle and, a moment later, there was a muffled explosion.

"NO!" Michael's eyes changed and he didn't notice. His heart slammed against his ribs. He slipped, lost his footing and stumbled, falling heavily to his knees. "Liz!" The howl scored his throat.