The Hummer slammed through the next stretch of road, weaving between the rusting tanks.
Bullets rang off the sides, each impact another heartbeat. Luci crouched low behind the seats, silent but tense, nostrils flaring.
"Right flank clear," Alexei said. "Left still live."
"Hold them," Zubair ordered.
Lachlan's hand came up. The air snapped once, sharp enough to make the dust shudder.
The Saint on the left staggered backward, weapon dropping. Another one ran for the tanker door, and Alexei's rifle barked once more. Silence followed.
The smell of scorched metal rolled through the vents. The fire line behind them roared higher, reflecting against the mirrored glass of the tanks. The whole place glowed like a furnace.
Elias tapped the console. "Radiator's spitting heat again."
Zubair's voice stayed steady. "We'll rest it after the next rise."
There won't be a next rise if you keep starving me.
You're not driving.
You can't keep me caged forever.
