Wouldn’t dream of it.
She checked her ammunition. “Got any weapons?”
“Just my pistol,” he replied. “Plus, I saw a few rifles in the backseat. But they won’t be much use against that drone.”
“Get me in front of the nose. I’ll handle the rest.”
He gave her a sideways glance. “What kind of crazy idea is rattling around in that brain of yours?”
She inhaled through her nostrils. “A long shot.”
He grinned. Pressing down on the accelerator, he directed the vehicle around the access road. Then he spun the wheel. The vehicle lurched violently onto the runway.
As he straightened it out, Beverly studied the drone. It was moving down the runway, but Graham’s maneuver had bought them a little time.
He pushed down on the accelerator. Then he drove onto the black sand beach and passed the drone. Graham yanked the wheel. The vehicle jolted as it hit the runway, twenty yards ahead of the plane. While he straightened out the wheel, Beverly grabbed a rifle from the backseat. “Slow us down a bit,” she shouted over the rushing air. “And jam this into the wheel to keep it steady.”
“Are you crazy?”
“What do you think?”
“Don’t ask.” Easing up on the accelerator, Graham took the rifle. Quickly, he positioned it against the edge of the seat, effectively locking down the wheel. “Now what?”
Beverly glanced at the runway. The drone was almost directly behind them. “Now, we jump.”
Flinging the door open, she jumped into space. As she tumbled through the air, she raised her pistol. She could see every detail of the SUV. Its faded green paint. The small dent in its rear.
And the gas tank.
She squeezed the trigger. Bullets chewed up the pavement. Abruptly, the vehicle exploded into furious flames. A whoosh of air sent her hurtling to the ground. She hit the pavement and rolled, protecting her head. She bounced and jolted a few times before sliding into a dazed heap onto the black sand.
Her skull pounded as she lifted her head. Through blurry eyes, she stared at the burning wreckage. The vehicle lay in a shattered wreck, about two-thirds down the runway. Chunks of black rocky material surrounded it. As she’d hoped, the massive explosion had blown a colossal hole in the pavement.
The drone gained speed. Beverly cringed as she realized a potential problem. She’d been so busy thinking about how to stop the planes she hadn’t considered the possible downsides of her actions. What if the drone leaked its deadly chemicals after crashing into the hole?
Seconds later, the drone rolled into the gaping hole and slammed into the burning vehicle. Sparks flew. Metal crunched. Then the drone burst into flames as well.
Beverly struggled to her feet as a second drone smashed into the first one. A small smile crossed her face. The damaged runway would make it impossible for the drones to get into the air. And hopefully, the flames would consume the bulk of the Miasma compound.
She stretched. Her limbs ached. Long cuts and nasty welts covered her shoulders and back.
She stumbled across the runway. Flames licked the air, shedding ample light onto the pavement. “Dutch?” she called out. “Where are you?”
“Over here.”
She limped east. Graham sat on the edge of the runway. He held the pieces of his shattered artificial leg in both hands, a forlorn expression on his face. “It’s done for,” he said sadly.
She chuckled. “You’ll make a new one.”
Lifting her gaze, she peered into the distance. She saw a vehicle whipping down the access road heading toward Pagan Bay. “You can do this, Cy,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “You have to do this.”
Chapter 96
I pressed down on the gas pedal, increasing my speed. The vehicle bounced as it drove over a small chunk of uprooted pavement. With a slight turn of my wrists, I straightened out the wheel and aimed the vehicle directly at the business jet.
The small plane hung a soft right. The movement caught me by surprise. I’d expected the plane to follow the drone down the runway. But obviously, Simona had something else in mind.
Tilting my head, I watched the plane jolt off the runway and onto the access road, narrowly missing me in the process. My jaw tightened. The road ran to Pagan Bay, with good clearance on either side of it. With a little luck, her pilot could use it as a makeshift runway.
I stomped on the accelerator. Wrenched the wheel. The vehicle spun in a tight arc. Then I drove onto the access road and quickly closed the gap. Slowing my speed a little, I tried to cut around the plane in order to ride even with it. But the pilot, aware of my actions, expertly maneuvered the small jet to keep me at bay.
I shifted toward the left side of the plane, only to be thwarted again. As I drifted back behind the jet, I found myself pushing harder on the gas pedal. That could mean only one thing.
The jet was gaining speed.
I twisted the wheel to the right, sending the vehicle careening to the edge of the access road. Dirt squelched under the tires. Low-hanging branches reached out, scratching the chassis and scraping against my window.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of frenzied fire. I snuck a look and saw two figures on the runway, surrounded by chaos.
Guess we don’t need the model anymore.
An idea formed in my mind. It was crazy. But I didn’t see any other way of stopping Simona. I urged the vehicle forward, gliding past the jet. And then there was nothing in front of me except for empty road. Driving forward, I kept my eyes glued to the rearview mirror.
The jet slipped to the left, just missing some tree branches in the process. As the pilot straightened it out, I steeled my nerves.
Suddenly, I slammed the brakes and twisted the wheel to the right. The front tires squealed as they slid across the pavement. The rear tires, propelled by the spinning wheel, spun to the side, allowing the vehicle to complete a neat one hundred and eighty degree turn.
The tires squealed again as I released the brake and pressed down on the gas pedal. My eyes narrowed, observing everything. Less than fifty yards separated me from the oncoming jet. As a kid, I’d tried my hand at chicken on a couple of occasions. Now, I was engaged in the biggest game of my life.
And failure was not an option.
Forty yards.
I squinted as the plane drew closer. In the front window, I could make out three blurry faces, all women. One face clearly belonged to Simona.
Thirty yards.
Keeping my torso perfectly still, I cracked the door.
Twenty yards.
I could see their faces in much greater detail. Simona’s jaw was set. I firmed my own jaw and maneuvered my hand, setting the cruise control.
Ten yards.
I kicked the door as hard as I could. As it flung open, I kept my hand on the wheel, determined to stay until the last second. I took one final look at the jet and saw Simona shouting something. Then I jumped.
Like a powerful fist facing an iron jaw, the vehicle crashed headfirst into the racing jet. Loud metallic scraping sounds pierced the air and the plane crunched through the vehicle, nearly tearing it apart.
I felt a burst of heat as my body flew backward. Moments later, I slammed into soft dirt. Closing my eyes, I rolled across the dry surface.
My momentum ran out and I came to a stop. Lifting my upper body, I watched as the jet pushed forward, seemingly determined to steer through the wreckage.
Metal screeched. Sparks flew upward as the plane’s front wheel tore away from the undercarriage.
I pushed myself to my feet as the jet slid to a halt. Then I limped toward it, vaguely aware of distant shouts.
I passed the rear of the jet, stepping over bits of wreckage and small fires. I hobbled all the way to the front of the plane. Then I peered into the cockpit.