"We should get to the farthest point we can drive to by the end of the day, if all goes well," I said. "Then it will be a hike out into the woods to find Grandpa's outpost. I've got the GPS coordinates, so it shouldn't be a big deal."
Marty swallowed his last piece of bacon with minimal chewing. "The sun sets early. I'm pretty sure we shouldn't be trying to find this place in the dark."
I was confident the darkness wouldn't affect me, but Marty didn't have my advantages. "Yeah, I guess we can wait until sunrise tomorrow."
Marty's plate was clean and empty. He looked at it mournfully. "I'll go pay our bill. We should get on the road."
I nodded, taking another sip of my coffee. I hadn't even finished half of it in the time he'd taken to eat his breakfast and empty his cup. I looked out the window, watching the traffic go by on the highway. The sun was sparkling off the dirty snow piled around the edges of Carly's parking lot.
Marty sat back down, pulling my attention away from the highway. "Whenever you're ready. I've got a ton of Canadian funny money now. Breakfast and the coffees was only seven bucks. She wasn't too happy at me only having hundreds."
The four men that had come in after us left the restaurant, the bell dinging to announce their departure. A couple of them looked over at us, their faces curious. As fast as Marty had been, they had been faster. I wondered if this was their daily routine—come in, drink a quick coffee, and run. Were they on a coffee break, or on their way to work?
"Yeah, let's get going. We need to gas up. Hopefully the gas station has some jerry cans. I want to get a bunch of extra gas in case we need it. I don't know how easy it's going to be to get up there."
I stood up, and we walked out of Carly's, waving to Shawna.
"Thanks, guys! Have a good day," she called out to us.
We walked around to the side parking lot, and the truck gave a little honk as I clicked the fob to open the doors.
"You sure you don't want me to drive, man? You've been going all night," Marty asked as he reached the passenger side door.
"No, it's cool—" I started to say. I saw Marty's expression change to shock and almost felt the threat behind me, but too late.
Clonk. I heard, and felt, the sound of wood hitting something solid. That something solid was the back of my head. My vision went black and I stumbled forward. I only vaguely felt my face hit the driver's side window of the truck. My vision darkened and my knees went wobbly. I fell over. The hard, icy surface of the parking lot rose up to meet me.
My limbs didn't seem to be working, but I heard what sounded like a scuffle from nearby. Marty started to yell but was cut off.
"Brent, see if the big guy's got anything. I've got the cash," someone said.
I felt hands on me, pawing at my pockets. My parka fell open and exposed the nine millimeter in the holster at my hip.
"Holy shit, this guy's got a gun," the man grabbing at me said from the blackness.
"Get it and let's go before someone notices."
I felt a tug at my belt, and then another, much stronger. The holster wouldn't let go of my pants or the gun without me willing it.
"Shit, I can't get it out."
It was that moment that some control returned to my arms and legs. I reached out my right hand and closed it around the wrist of the man tugging at my gun. He struggled but my grip was unbreakable.
"He's waking up, help me," the man cried.
His other hand clocked me in the face with a desperate punch, but I barely felt it. My vision was returning, and I could see the bright blue and grey of the sky above, occluded by the blurry figure of the scumbag trying to rob me.
My left hand shot out and grabbed him by the belt. I rolled to my right and heaved. I tossed him off me like one of those decorative pillows on my mom's couch.
I used the motion to get to my feet, my head swimming and my footing unsteady. Even with Transcendent Flesh and my subdermal armor, I wasn't immune to a solid blow to the head. At least not yet.
A blurry attacker rushed in, swinging a bat. I raised my left arm to block. His swing connected. It really stung, but nothing broke. I stepped in, smashing my right elbow into his chin. There was a sickening crackle as his jaw and several of his teeth shattered. My vision sharpened in time to see the man with the buzzcut fall backward, out cold. I plucked the bat from his hands as he fell.
I felt a solid punch to the middle of my back. I spun, the bat feeling like an old friend in my hands. My Blunt Weapons skill implant was paying for itself once again. Without me even consciously thinking about it, the bat struck the knife in the third scumbag's hand. Several of his fingers broke and the blade went flying away, skittering across the parking lot. My follow-up punch smashed his nose flat and dropped him. The maneuver my implanted skill wanted me to do would have broken his head open like a watermelon, but I was in full control. Today's not the day I murder a dude.
The guy I'd tossed was fifteen feet away, flat on his back. He'd landed hard and wasn't moving.
Marty groaned, and my gaze snapped up. The fourth guy had been sitting on him, but was standing up and backing away from me, terror in his eyes. He turned to run.
I threw the bat at
