so that Jake steered by instinct alone. It roared against the racing
steel hull, and closed down visibility to a circle of twenty yards.
The Italian shellfire stopped abruptly, as the gunners were
unsighted.
Rain pounded every inch of exposed skin, striking with a force that
stung painfully, snapping against their faces with a jarring impact
that made the teeth ache in their jaws, and sent them crouching for
what little cover there was on the exposed hull.
'Good Lord, how long does this go on for?' protested Gareth, and he
spat the sodden butt of his cheroot over the side.
'Four months,' shouted Gregorius. 'It rains for four months now.'
'Or until you tell it to stop.' Jake grinned wryly, and glanced across
at the other machine.
Sara waved reassuringly from the turret of Miss Wobbly, her face
screwed up against the driving raindrops and the thick mane of hair
plastered to her shoulders and face. Icy rain had soaked the silken
sharnma she wore and it clung transparently to her body, and her fat
little breasts showed through as though they were naked, bouncing to
each exaggerated movement of the car.
Suddenly the mist of rain ahead of them was filled with hurrying
figures, all of them clad in the long sodden sharnmas of the Harari;
carrying their weapons, they were running and staggering forward
through the rain towards the mouth of the gorge.
Gregorius shouted encouragement to them as they sped past, and then
translated quickly.
'I have told them we will hold the enemy at the first waterfall they
are to spread the word.' And he turned back to shout again when
suddenly with a startled oath Jake braked and swung the car violently
to avoid a pile of human bodies strewn in their path.
'This is where the Italian machine-gunners caught them,' Sara yelled
across the gap, and as if in confirmation there came the tearing
ripping sound of the machine guns off in the rain mist.
Jake threaded the car past the piles of bodies and then looked around
to make sure Vicky was following.
'Now what the hell!' He realized they were alone. 'That woman.
That crazy woman,' and he braked, slammed Priscilla into reverse and
roared back into the fog until the dark shape of Miss Wobbly loomed up
again.
'No,' said Gareth. 'I can't bear it.' Vicky and Sara were out of the
parked car, hurrying amongst the piles of bodies, stooping over a
wounded warrior and between them dragging him upright and thrusting him
through the open rear doors of the cab. Others, less gravely
wounded,
were limping and crawling towards the machine, and dragging themselves
aboard.
'Come on, Vicky, 'Jake yelled.
'We can't leave them here, she yelled back.
'We've got to get to the waterfall,' he tried to explain.
'We've got to stop the retreat.' But he might not have spoken, for the
two women turned back to their task.
