The Covenant of Genesis

‘Well, I hope we can!’ Another turn was coming up fast, a bank channelling the Winnebago to the right. Sophia grabbed the fat leather seat for support as Nina turned hard, feeling the big, top- heavy vehicle begin to tip over. ‘Whoa!’ She had to ease off . . .

‘If you could keep all the wheels on the ground, it’d be helpful,’ Sophia said dryly as the RV dropped heavily back down, loose objects clattering round the cabin behind them.

‘It’d be even more helpful if you’d shut your goddamn yap!’ The track curved back to the left, rising out of a little gully. She swung the wheel back, the Winnebago rolling even harder.

Where was the quad bike? Nina checked the mirrors, seeing no sign of it behind them.

Engine noise, very close, too close—

It wasn’t behind them. It had drawn level, zooming over the rise in a straight line to catch up while she had been forced to weave through the gully. She looked sideways to see it just yards away, the rider swinging the rifle round in one hand, aiming at her . . .

Nina ducked, hauling on the wheel to slew the Winnebago off the track at the quad bike. The rider fired a burst before he was forced to swerve away, shattering the side window and ripping a pair of bullet holes in the panoramic windscreen, a web of silver cracks obscuring Nina’s view.

‘Sophia!’ she yelled, the RV ripping through bushes before she swung it back on to the track. ‘I can’t see ahead! I need you to—’

A red cylinder flew past her head and smashed through the damaged windscreen; one of the Winnebago’s fire extinguishers. ‘Is that better?’ Sophia asked, dropping into the passenger seat.

‘Oh, just fine,’ Nina growled as a gritty wind blew through the new hole. But at least she could see again. She looked for the quad bike. Its headlight was now in the mirror - it had been forced to drop in behind them to avoid a stand of trees.

The sound of bullet impacts echoed up the cabin from the Winnebago’s rear. ‘What the hell’s he shooting at?’

‘The tyres, maybe?’ Sophia suggested with considerable sarcasm. ‘Or the gas cylinders? Or the hundred gallons of fuel?’

Another burst of gunfire - then a low whoomph reached them from the bedroom as something ignited. ‘Or your boyfriend’s napalm aftershave,’ said Nina frostily. They turned to see flickers of flame through the bedroom door.

‘Maybe it is a little overpowering,’ Sophia quickly agreed.

‘That’d better not have been the only fire extinguisher you just threw out the window.’

‘I think there’s another one.’ Sophia made her way unsteadily back down the length of the bucking vehicle.

Nina checked the mirror again. The quad bike was still tucked in behind them - and further back, she spotted other lights racing through the desert. ‘Oh, God, Eddie, where are you?’

Chase was having quad bike problems of his own. The nearest bike was closing fast, the cyclops glare of its headlight casting his long running shadow into the night ahead. Still running, he twisted and fired off a shot. It hit the bike’s front with a metallic crack.

But it caused no damage. The bike kept coming. He turned to shoot again—

Too slow. The Kawasaki swept past - and the rider kicked him square in the back, hurling him face first to the ground. The gun spun from his hand. Spine on fire, he rose to his hands and knees as the quad bike made a skidding turn to come back round for another attack.

Where was the gun? It couldn’t have landed more than a few feet away . . .

The bike charged straight for him. He crawled forward, hands sweeping back and forth through the sand, finding nothing but stones.

The light was blinding, from his low viewpoint looking like a locomotive about to crush him.

Sand, stones—

Metal!

Chase snapped up the gun and fired just above the headlight. There was a startled scream, and the rider fell backwards - then the quad bike veered sharply, hitting a rock and flipping over to barrel across the sand—

Straight at Chase.

He threw himself sideways, rolling over and over as the tumbling bike slammed down beside him, showering him with grit and broken bodywork. It bounced a couple more times before finally coming to rest on its side.

Pain rippled up Chase’s back, but he fought through it and stood, looking towards the camp. The other quad bike was still coming, and he could see more headlights moving along the track.

He limped to the battered bike and pulled it back on to all four wheels. The engine had stalled; he mounted the saddle and tried the starter. It whined in protest, the engine reluctantly turning over on the third attempt.

He could see the Winnebago’s rear lights in the distance - and something else, a flickering glow through its rear window that looked suspiciously like a fire. ‘Oh, Christ,’ he moaned as he twisted the throttle, the engine revving raggedly. ‘What’s she done now?’

‘Have you found the fire extinguisher?’ Nina shouted down the Winnebago’s cabin.

‘Yes!’ came the answer from the bedroom.

‘And?’

‘It’s on fire!’

‘Oh, that’s, that’s . . .’ Nina struggled for words. ‘So not good,’ was all she could come up with. She looked back, seeing Sophia making a hasty exit from the bedroom as a curtain caught light behind her. ‘You’ve got a kitchen and a bathroom back there - throw some water on it!’

‘In what?’ Sophia snapped, holding up a teacup.

‘How about pans? Don’t you cook?’

‘Of course I don’t cook! What am I, a peasant?’

Nina’s scathing reply was cut off when she saw the quad bike trying to overtake again. She turned to force the rider off the track. He dropped back slightly, but had no trouble riding up the low embankment flanking the trail - unlike the Winnebago, which shook violently.

And in the other mirror, she could see two more quad bikes charging across the desert . . .

Chase was gaining rapidly on the lumbering RV, cutting straight across the sand to intercept it. The first quad bike had gone wide, trying to overtake - he guessed that the rider planned to get far enough ahead to stop and take a head-on shot at the driver.

He wasn’t going to let that happen.

The third quad was about fifty metres behind, following him. Even though he knew its rider was armed with a rifle, Chase doubted he would take a shot . . . yet. At speed over rough terrain, firing one-handed, he would have only slightly more chance of hitting than if he fired up into the air hoping the bullet would come down on his head.

But the odds would improve dramatically at closer range.

A boulder leapt into his headlight beam; he dodged it, then angled back at the Winnebago. It was definitely on fire, burning curtains whipping from the bullet-smashed rear window.

Chase leaned into the dusty wind and forced the throttle to its limit.

Nina was thrown against the wheel as the Winnebago hit a large hump, rocking sickeningly. Sophia fell on to the lounge’s leather couch, clinging to its padded arm.

The RV hadn’t taken the landing well: something was grinding under the floor. The wheel felt heavier in Nina’s hands. Either the power assistance was failing, or the steering had been damaged.

‘How’s the fire?’ she called.

Sophia glanced back. The flames had now spread into the main cabin. ‘Getting bigger! Where’s the bike?’

‘Getting closer!’ The quad bike had drawn level again. Then it surged past, sweeping across the sand to cut in just ahead of the RV. Nina yelped, swerving to avoid it - realising a moment too late that she would have been