better off trying to
The trail ahead dipped, dropping into another gully. The quad held its speed as it slithered round a corner, but Nina was forced to brake to prevent the Winnebago from running wide and hitting the wall. The grinding grew louder as she pulled the wheel, but mechanical concerns paled against the knowledge that the rider ahead was gaining ground to set up an ambush - while the two other bikes were catching up from behind.
Chase saw the Winnebago ahead, picked out by little running lights along its length - and the trail of smoke behind it, glowing red in the RV’s tail lights. He was almost on it - but he realised he didn’t have a plan for what to do when he caught up. If Nina and Sophia stopped to escape the burning vehicle, the rider behind him would shoot them - and there was no way the compact quad bike could carry three people.
The man behind cut his options still further as gunfire cracked across the desert. He looked back. The undamaged Kawasaki had gained ground, its rider close enough to attempt a shot. He was resting the rifle’s barrel on the handlebars, shooting from the hip. Not very accurate - but if he got any closer, he wouldn’t need to be.
The Winnebago was just ahead, its roof almost level with the top of the gully. He steered parallel to it.
A second shot tore past, closer.
He was alongside—
Chase squeezed the last ounce of power out of the quad - and turned sharply, leaping off the edge of the gully.
The bike cleared the gap, landing on the Winnebago’s roof—
And fell through it, steel and aluminium instantly buckling under the weight.
The RV’s back end collapsed, side panels bowing outwards as the entire rear wall broke loose and crashed aflame on to the trail. The quad bike fell on to the bed, pitching Chase over the handlebars. He smashed through the scorched partition wall in a shower of sparks to land on his back in the lounge.
Sophia regarded him in surprise. ‘Ay up,’ Chase said with a dazed wave.
‘What the hell was
‘Just my ex-husband making a typically overblown entrance,’ Sophia told her.
Nina looked back. ‘Eddie!’
‘Hi, love. With you in a minute,’ he said, brushing away stinging embers before going to the bedroom door.
Behind him, Sophia saw the gun lying amongst the splinters. She hurried across the room to pick it up, glancing calculatingly after Chase.
Chase entered the devastated bedroom, looking through the gaping hole where the rear wall had been to see the pursuing rider swinging on to the trail behind them as the RV climbed out of the gully. He reached for the gun - to find nothing there. ‘Buggeration and fu—’
The rider lined up the rifle—
Chase threw himself down amongst the debris, taking cover behind the quad bike on the bed as a three- round burst ripped into the Winnebago’s mangled tail-end. A few seconds later came another crackle of gunfire, the bullet impacts lower down.
Chase knew why. He was aiming at the tyres.
He poked his head up, seeing the rider steering towards the Winnebago’s side for a better firing angle - and realised with alarm that his own battered Kawasaki was now on fire. Worse still, a broken metal spar had punctured its fuel tank, a dribble of petrol seeping into the mattress . . . which was burning in several places. ‘Fuckery!’ he concluded.
No way to put out the flames. He had to get rid of the quad-bike before the fuel tank ignited.
The engine was still burbling. Chase jumped up and grabbed the handlebars, pulling the bike around as he blipped the throttle. The rider saw him and swung back, switching targets from the rear wheels to the Englishman —
Chase twisted the throttle.
The quad bike surged from the bed as he dropped flat, flying out of the flame-licked back of the RV straight at the other bike. The trail of leaking fuel spattered through the flames - and ignited, an arc of fire rushing after the quad bike as it tumbled at the screaming rider . . .
The bikes collided, the fiery streak catching up an instant later. Chase’s bike blew to pieces in a fireball that lit up the surrounding desert, the explosion of the second quad following almost simultaneously.
Burning fragments rained down on Chase. He weathered the pain, waiting until the heat of the fireball had faded before opening his eyes . . . to see a fat tyre bounding along the trail after him, engulfed in flames.
‘Shit!’ he gasped, rolling aside just as the blazing wheel careered past and bounced off the partition wall, spinning back at him. He yelped and hurled himself on to the burning mattress as it flew over his head into the desert night.
Rubbing frantically at his arms where hairs had caught light, Chase leapt through the hole in the wall, running past Sophia to the kitchen area. ‘Ow, ow, fuck! Water, I need water!’ He reached the sink and turned on the taps, splashing water over himself.
Nina looked back. ‘Eddie, are you okay? What happened?’
‘Wheel,’ he gasped. ‘On fire.’
‘Was it rolling down the road?’ Sophia asked.
Chase gave her a less-than-amused glare, shaking off the water. His forearms were covered with mottled red blotches, but none of the burns seemed serious. ‘Got the guy behind you.’
‘There’s another one in front,’ Nina told him.
‘Yeah, I know.’ He turned, gaze darting over the strewn debris on the floor. ‘I had a gun . . .’
‘This gun?’ asked Sophia. Chase froze as he saw the automatic in her cuffed hands, aimed at his chest. She looked him in the eye, smiled slightly . . . then flipped it round and held it out to him.
He snatched it from her. ‘You’re welcome,’ she said sarcastically. ‘I just wanted to prove that you can trust me.’
‘I wouldn’t trust you any more than I could cough up a dog.’
She sniffed. ‘Charming as ever, I see.’
He ignored her, quickly checking how many bullets remained in the magazine before joining Nina. ‘How far ahead is he?’
She pointed down the track. The last quad bike had now gained a lead of over a hundred yards, a dust trail glowing like a nebula in its rear lights.
Chase checked the speedometer. For all the noise coming from the RV’s transmission, it was barely managing thirty miles an hour over the rough terrain. The rider would have just enough time to slam his quad bike to a stop, take aim at the driver and fire before the Winnebago reached him . . .
‘Keep driving,’ he said to Nina, hunching down in the passenger-side footwell. ‘The moment he stops, tell me.’
‘What’re you going to do?’
He waggled the gun. ‘What do you think? Just don’t slow down.’
Sophia returned to the couch, bracing herself. ‘Can I remind you both that we’re still on fire?’
‘Feel free to bail out whenever you like,’ Nina shot back. The quad bike was still pulling away, but now drifting over to one side of the trail . . .
Brake lights flared.
‘He’s stopping, he’s stopping!’ she yelled.
‘Drive straight at him!’ Chase ordered.
Nina pushed the accelerator down harder, each bump pounding the wallowing RV. The quad bike slewed to a stop, its rider swinging his rifle from his back. ‘Eddie, he’s got a gun—’
‘I know! Keep going!’
The rifle rose . . .
Chase sprang up and fired as fast as he could pull the trigger, shattering the windscreen. Bullets kicked up dirt around the Kawasaki, the Winnebago juddering too much for him to get a proper fix - but that wasn’t why he was shooting.
