Juggernaut

‘Christ. Jabril’s battalion, coming out to play. Looks like they heard the trucks. Fifty, maybe sixty men. They’re heading this way. Moving slow, but they’ll hit us soon enough.’

‘How many rounds do we have?’

‘Five or six in the AK. Half a clip in the pistol.’

‘Let Gaunt and Voss hook up the fuel line,’ said Amanda. ‘We’ll pump some gas and get the hell out of here.’

Hook-Up

Faint radio crackle. The sat phone lay on a table.

‘Roger that. Climb and level at one-eight-zero. Heading hold.’

Lucy picked up the handset.

‘Must be locked on a secure channel,’ said Amanda.

‘Hello? Hello? Can you hear us? This is Lucy Whyte. There are British and American citizens at your target site. Do you copy?’

No response.

‘There are wounded personnel at your target site requesting urgent evacuation, over.’

No response.

‘Hello? Incoming plane, do you copy?’

‘Reckon they can hear us?’ asked Amanda.

‘Yeah.’

‘Unbelievable. They’re going to kill us. They know we are here. They’re going to drop the bomb anyway.’

‘It’s a pay cheque.’

Lucy shielded her eyes from the sun. She watched the vehicles two hundred yards distant, slowly lurching over lunar terrain, kicking up a high dust plume. She could hear the cash truck strain and grind.

She could see Gaunt in the cab, hunched over the wheel.

Voss walking beside the bank truck, ghost-white with dust. He turned and delivered an efficient headshot to soldiers following the gouge-trench left by the damaged tanker.

Lucy hooked the TASC earpiece to her lobe.

‘How’s it going, Voss?’

‘Jesus. Lucy.’

He tried to work out her position. He checked out the locomotive and scanned the valley walls.

‘Bet you thought we got buried with Jabril.’

‘It wasn’t personal, boss.’

‘Open ground. I could drop you in a heartbeat. I’ve got you in my sights right now.’

No response.

‘Well? Don’t you want to live?’

‘What do you want me to say, bokkie?’

‘Help us get out of this valley, and maybe I will let you live. Can Gaunt hear us? Is he wearing his wire?’

‘No.’

‘The moment you guys hook up the fuel line, we whack him.’

‘We need Gaunt to drive the locomotive. We need him alive.’

‘Fuck him. We’ll figure out the controls.’

Lucy pulled the earpiece from her ear.

‘You want to let Voss off the hook?’ asked Amanda. ‘After what he did to us?’

‘Let’s get out the valley. After that, if you still want to snuff the guy, be my guest.’

The vehicles reached the locomotive. Voss checked out the carriage windows, trying to work out if Lucy and Amanda were hidden inside.

Gaunt jumped from the cab.

Voss climbed an iron ladder to the tanker roof. He swung the boom arm towards the locomotive. Six-inch transfer hose swung like an elephant’s trunk.

Gaunt grabbed the hose and pulled it to the walkway. He pulled a ring-latch and lifted a section of grating. He unscrewed the heavy fuel cap. He grabbed the swinging hose. Male to female. Twist to engage. Flip cam locks to clamp the coupling in position.

Voss crouched on the tanker roof and examined the pump. A 14V Dynavolt battery. An electric compressor in a mesh safety cage. He checked connections and flipped a power switch. Green light. The pump began to hum. The fuel pipe trembled. He leant forward and put his ear to the pipe. Gulp and gush.

‘We’re in business. She’s fuelling.’

Voss descended the ladder. Gaunt jumped from the locomotive. They faced each other.

Gaunt gestured towards the convoy. They could see creatures, twisted by strange cankerous growths, weaving between burned-out vehicles.

‘Think we can hold them off?’ asked Gaunt.

‘Smart fire. Clean medulla shots. Let’s not waste a single bullet.’

‘Okay.’

Gaunt fetched a backpack full of ammo from the truck cab.

‘Better get ourselves a fire position.’

He headed for the carriage. Voss held back.

Gaunt reached up and gripped the door handle.

‘What’s up with you?’

‘Nothing,’ said Voss.

Gaunt took the locomotive ignition key from his pocket and held it up.

‘Don’t forget. You still need me. You want to get home? You want to get rich? Then you need me alive.’

Gaunt pulled open the carriage door and hauled himself up into the carriage. Gunshot. Windows momentarily lit by muzzle flare like a camera flash. Gaunt was hurled from the coach. He rolled in the dust.

Lucy and Amanda climbed from the carriage. Smoke curled from the barrel of Lucy’s AK.

Gaunt was shot in the hip, just beneath the hem of his flak jacket. He crawled, dragging his injured leg, blood soaking into the sand. He gripped the side of the carriage and slowly pulled himself upright.

Lucy picked up the locomotive key and put it in her pocket. She hoisted Gaunt’s backpack from where it lay and slung it over one shoulder. She raised the AK and took aim.

Gaunt popped an ammo pouch on his chest rig and held the virus cylinder above his head.

‘You want to shoot? Want to crack this baby open, see what happens?’