Before that could happen, though, the remote-controlled helicopter sped around the van in a kamikaze attack, flying straight into the open face of the motorcyclist’s motocross helmet. The impact was enough of a shock to unseat her, and both she and her pillion went down in a violent tumble of flailing arms and legs. Zakaria and his passengers were by no means safe, though; one more rider was still hot on their heels, and it appeared that he had no intention of giving up the chase.
‘Talk, talk!’ Zakaria snapped at Chloe, taking no time to relish in the minor victory.
Chloe, weeping and shaking like an autumn leaf in a gale, managed to jam a violently trembling thumb onto the talk button.
‘There’s one more bike on me! And the other two Humvees!’
‘I don’t know how they keep figuring out where you’re headed, but they’re gaining on you. You can escape, though, if you shake this last rider.’
Zakaria, growling, glanced in his rear-view mirror and saw the biker raising his submachine gun to fire through the now-unprotected rear window. He ducked just as a spattering of bullets blitzed through the opening and slammed into the backs of the seats. Hoping that by stopping unexpectedly the biker would rear-end him and crash, Zakaria stomped viciously on the brakes. The rider, however, was too fast; he slid his rear wheel in a ninety-degree arc and then accelerated, coming up next to the driver’s door, which he leaned over to and tried to open. Zakaria attempted to sideswipe the biker, but the rider was too nimble, and he simply dodged the lumbering vehicle.
‘Mothra, US Army choppers are coming in,’ the voice crackled through the walkie-talkie. ‘They’ve mobilised the National Guard too. Get off the streets now!’
Next to Zakaria the rider braked hard, so that he was back behind the van. This time he was close enough to lean forward and grab the van’s door handle and jump off his bike, clinging spider-like to the back of the van, leaving his motorcycle to crash and tumble, spitting broken plastic and twisted metal in all directions as it cartwheeled. Zakaria glanced behind him just in time to see the soldier sticking his helmeted head, and his right arm through the smashed-open rear window.
‘No! Great Mother, NO!’ he howled, his voice hoarse.
The Huntsman soldier took hasty aim at the tiger and squeezed the trigger, but as he did Daekwon, roaring, kicked the gun out of his hand. There was a smattering of submachine gun fire as the weapon unleashed a burst of bullets in mid-air, but none of them hit the tiger. Before the Huntsman troop could reach for his pistol, Daekwon, afire with adrenalin, aimed a savage right hook at the man’s chin, the point of which was just protruding from beneath the helmet. It was a punch he had practiced thousands of times over, and his aim was flawless and his power concentrated. The Huntsman didn’t even have time to think about dodging the blow before his head was whipped back from the crunching impact. Knocked out cold, he flopped off the back of the van and tumbled limply along the road as the vehicle sped away.
‘Motherfuckers!’ Daekwon screamed, sticking his head out of the broken rear window and glaring with wild eyes at the unconscious biker’s body, which was finally coming to a rest in the middle of the road. ‘Punk-ass s-, son um’ma bitch motherfuckers!’ He pulled his head back into the van and staggered back, dropping into a crouch and gripping his temples with his right hand. ‘What the f-, fuck I got myself into?’ he muttered, his eyes bulging. ‘What the actual f-, fuck is even g-, goin’ on here?’
‘Guys,’ Jun groaned, his voice barely audible. ‘Uh, guys…’
‘This ain’t happening,’ Paola wailed, curled up in a foetal ball on the floor next to the tiger with her hands clamped over her ears. ‘This ain’t happening, this ain’t happening, this ain’t happening!’
‘Guys,’ Jun repeated, his voice even fainter.
‘This is batshit crazy!’ Chloe shrieked from the front of the van as they speed onward, careening through the streets. ‘Stop the van, stop the fuckin’ van! I can’t deal, I just can’t! Fucking … fucking stop the van, let me out! I can’t do this, I can’t do this!’
‘Guys…’ Jun croaked.
‘F-, f-, fuck this shit man!’ Daekwon howled. ‘I just w-, wanted to help the p-, p-, planet an’ shit, an’ I end up b-, being shot at an’ near g-, gettin’ killed! S-, stop this fuckin’ ride, I’m gettin’ the f-, fuck off, stop the ride, s-, stop the fuckin’ ride!’
‘GUYS!’
Everyone stopped and looked at Jun; none of them had ever heard him yell. His face had grown deathly pale, and the baggy clothes on his torso were dark with blood, the saturated fabric heavy and slick, clinging to his meagre ribs with the terrifying volume of it.
‘I’ve been shot,’ he managed to rasp, and then his eyelids fluttered for a few moments before closing, and his head flopped limply onto his chest.
20
ZAKARIA
‘Oh shit man! Oh sh-, shit!’ Daekwon shouted, scrambling over the comatose tiger to get to Jun. He clasped the thin teen’s face, cupping his hand under Jun’s chin, and pulled his slumped-over head up. ‘W-, wake up man, wake up! C’mon w-, wake up, open yo’ damn eyes, w-, wake the fuck up!’ Jun was completely unresponsive, so Daekwon slapped him across his cheeks. ‘C-, come on lil’ dude, o-, o-, open them eyes, w-, wake up, wake up!’
‘Oh my God,’ Paola whimpered through her paroxysm of weeping, her reddened, teary eyes locked with horror on Jun’s blood-soaked chest. ‘Jun, no, oh my
