GunBarrel Gauntlet: The Last Bronze II

14. Engine Trouble.

From the angle of the passenger side mirrors, Carrrion observed the Lovebug trying to gain traction and reach the front of the truck as it ran parallel beside them. Ahead, the dragnet of Dog Soldiers was now closing formation to sweep Audrey and the Corolla that was running at her driver's side. The warning light for the third engine continued to wink red, disconnected from power.

"Hold on. I'm gonna break through." She informed Liu and Weary.

Weary folded one of his arms through the safety belt to anchor himself to the high back cushion, reloading the rifle chamber in preparation. Liu remained in the truck's sleeper compartment, eyes wide at the sight of the enemy line drawing closer through the view slots in the armoured windshield.

Raising gears with a zig-zag motion of the shaft, the trucker delivered her rig right into the centre of the marauders, parting them like the sea as their resolve shattered before the weight of the Kenworth's reinforced grill. The Scorpion and a handful of other machines managed to side-step the truck's fury, whilst their companions smacked into one another to make sudden room in their escape.

Swivelling the harpoon tail of the trike, the Scorpion's gunner launched an iron stake into the truck's carriage, puncturing the armour like a matador fighting a bull. Other projectiles broadsided the Kenworth as it punched through the line, arrows and zip gun lead sparking on the panels, cracking a spider web hole through Carrion's side mirror as she flinched to avoid catching any glass in her remaining eye.

Lifting himself from the deck of the carriage after the initial onslaught, Irish crawled closer to the hatch as the background terrain swirled with the returning arcs of marauder vehicles now giving chase. He was almost at the latch when the whole carriage whipped across to sideswipe the Lovebug that was still flanking them, losing his grip to tumble near the edge, legs swinging in the air.

The same action slammed the carriage across the Corolla's panels, grinding off the remaining paint before the loaded energy swung back and collected the VW on the other side, the fireworks of its friction against the truck stripping away a wing of exhaust pipes until Tick-Tock relented to the larger beast, jerking the wheel to escape further contact, bouncing wide across the wastelands to recover.

Having waited for the opportunity, Weary released himself from the safety belt to emerge head and shoulders out of the cabin's roof hatch with a rifle barrel directed at the Lovebug's driver. The shot went wide as Tick-Tock tapped the brakes and fell back.

Ejecting the spent shell with a flick of the bolt, the ex-paramedic immediately inserted another round and returned the scope to his only eye, tracking the scarred VW as it drifted away.

By then Irish had recovered from the near fall, frantically working his way closer to the access hatch. Dirt bikes were gathering at the rear of the trailer, the googles and fly-eye visors of their macabre fashioned head gear watching him like fresh meat as they waited for the heavier vehicles to catch up.

Reaching for the wheel handle, the lid flipped open before he could turn it, numbing his hand against the steel as the rag features of a wind raider's arm struck his forearm with a knife edge. Wincing from the shock and pain, he caught the mesh surface along the top of the carriage as his legs went over the ledge a second time. That's when his shoulder joint stretched under the weight of something holding onto his ankles. Casting his gaze down to the blur of colours speeding underneath the truck revealed that one of the bikers had abandoned his machine to grip his ankles, dangling off his boots as a makeshift rope.