Hal counted the revolutions in his head. Keeping his bearings. He straightened the wheel and the car blasted out of the dust cloud. Blue sky and sun-scorched earth opened up before them. Along with the main highway they had just left. Hal gunned it toward the road.
Weng and the others were in the middle of the dust cloud. All bearings lost. He plodded straight forward and the dust thinned. They gained visibility — seeing vast desert before them for miles and miles. No sign of the car. Or the road.
Hal glanced at Jennifer. They shared a grin as they were in the clear with a quarter mile buffer from the dust cloud and anything in it. They drove up the bank to the shoulder of the road and just as they hit pavement a loud THUMP sounded followed by the grate of steel on blacktop. “Shit. Blowout.” Hal took a left, back the way they came and saw tread fragments behind them on the shoulder, confirming what they both felt.
Hal looked at the cloud for the black truck, going as fast as he could on three wheels and a rim. Glancing down at the speedometer. Fifty miles per hour.
“There!” Jennifer said. Spotting the truck blasting from the far side of the dust cloud like it was shot out of hell with a path of destruction in its wake.
Matt banged on the roof of the cab, yelling and pointing when he saw Jennifer’s car on the road in the distance. Weng spun the truck around, avoiding his own dust, making a beeline toward the road.
The bare rear rim of Jennifer’s car sparked and spun loosely on the pavement with no traction to propel it. “What are we gonna’ do?” she asked, spotting the sinister truck barreling toward the road. Knowing it was only a matter of time before they caught up.
The truck hit the pavement and instantly made up ground. Ninety mph versus fifty.
Hal knew they were dead in the water. Too far out of town away from the cover any building would provide. He thought for a moment. Gazing at the speedometer and other gauges. “Do your airbags work?”
“As far as I know. Why?”
“Hold on.” Hal pulled the e-brake while whipping the car to the left, performing a skid-stop maneuver that spun them around in a dead stop, facing the charging truck a half-mile away. “Get out.”
“Why” Wha—”
“—Now! Get out!!” She pulled the door handle and crawled out. “Take cover in the bushes!” Hal yelled.
Weng eased up on the gas. Wondering what the other driver was doing.
Hal gunned it. Aiming straight for the speeding truck. The bare rim spinning a pinwheel of sparks on the black top. The sniper on the roof lined up, and Charlie extended a submachine gun out the window. Opening fire! Hal ducked down as the barrage of bullets assaulted the vehicle.
“Aim for the engine block” Weng yelled. They did. Plinking it with bullets. A geyser of steam shot up from a direct hit. The damage to the car didn’t matter as fast as Hal was going. “Hold on!” Weng reached to his seat belt, but didn’t have time to buckle it. Charlie jerked the wheel to the right, but it was too late. Hal SMASHED head-on into the truck. Their pulling to the right was even worse on the truck. The collision forced it to roll in that direction. Throwing the sniper out the back and expelling Charlie from the passenger door.
The truck rolled, landing on the passenger side with airbags deployed.
Hal unburied his head from the deflating airbag that enveloped it. His face covered in burn marks, lacerations and powder dust from the exploding airbag. He was groggy. Pain shot through his neck and back.
Jennifer watched in horror, kneeling behind bushes off the side of the road. Unsure if she should check on Hal or run the opposite direction.
The sniper, Matt, was motionless on the pavement. Weng opened his eyes in the cab. Overcome with dizziness. Wondering where he was. His world upside down. Literally, as he had fallen to the passenger side, which was now the bottom of the truck. He raised his arms and clinched his fists. Testing his own movement. Realizing he survived intact and was mobile.
The impact jammed Hal’s door shut. He crawled out the window and cautiously approached the truck on its side. He saw Weng through the broken windshield. Hal kicked it in and grabbed Weng by the chest, tugging him out like a dead weight Manikin used for CSAR PJ training. He made eye contact with Hal while lying flat on his back on the pavement. Still out of it. “Who are you?” Hal asked.
Hal looked over to Charlie, who was dusting himself off in the desert, beyond the shoulder of the road. Looking for his machine gun. Weng’s eyes glanced over at Charlie and he yelled something in Mandarin. Charlie hobbled over to Matt, the sniper lying on the road. He was alive, but barely conscious. Charlie helped him up and they hobbled off into the scrub.
Hal asked again. Standing over his captive. “Who are you?”
Weng gasped an answer. Hal couldn’t hear and leaned in. Weng lunged up, grabbed Hal and tugged him down, hurling Hal over and behind him in a Tae Kwon Do throw.
Weng leaped to his feet and threw a flying kick at Hal who was still on the ground. Hal twisted and blocked it, sweeping Weng’s feet out from under him. Both were on the ground and rose at the same time. Weary.
Jennifer emerged from the desert, slowly approaching from behind her car. Using it for cover.
Weng attacked in a flurry of punches. Hal could only block a couple and others found their mark, knocking Hal backward. He regained his balance, stepped forward and launched a missile of his ham-like fist into Weng’s chest. His sharp knuckles the tip of a spear that plunged into Weng’s solar plexus — a mass of radiating nerves below the sternum — knocking the air out of his lungs.
Weng stumbled backward. Gasping and sucking air into his lungs. Hal advanced and swung again. Although weakened, Weng was agile and sharp. He blocked Hal’s swing and hooked an arm under Hal’s arm and shoulder, flipping Hal onto his back, following it up with a combo technique meant to end in a lethal windpipe-crushing strike. Weng stopped short though. His fist hovering in midair above Hal’s throat.
Hal was even more surprised than his adversary. Wondering why he held back on the kill shot after trying to shoot them both before.
“We know who you are,” Weng said, “and we know about the suit.”
“What suit?”
Weng looked up the desolate road. A mile from the edge of town. Knowing he had to leave immediately to avoid blowing the cover of his entire operation.
“What suit are you talking about?” Hal asked. “Who are you?”
Weng dashed off, stopping at his truck, searching for something. He emerged with the laptop and continued to scan the shoulder of the road.
Jennifer arrived behind Hal, stretching a hand out to him. He waved it off, hoisting his aching bones up.
“You okay?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Hal said.
“Who were they?”
Hal looked back just as Weng found the sniper rifle between the road and the desert. Hal wasn’t sure if they collected the other weapon. If they didn’t, Hal had to find it first. He hobbled to the truck, walking out a limp on the way, then searched around the truck. He peered into the cab and leaned through the broken windshield as Weng arrived behind him. Hal removed the machine gun with suppressor, extracted himself from the truck and was surprised to be standing face to face with Weng.
Hal got a good look at the submachine gun before handing it over to Weng. Weng made a subtle nod and disappeared behind the truck. Hal and Jennifer watched as Weng ignited a wet patch of pavement below the truck’s fuel door. Weng scooped up the weapons and retreated to the desert. The truck engulfed in flames within moments.
“We should get out of here too,” Hal said and started off in another direction than Weng. Through the desert toward Alamogordo. He looked back, realizing Jennifer was standing still. “Now! Come on.” He held out his hand. She grabbed it and the two scurried down the shoulder bank and into the desert scrub.