The Wasteland Soldier, Book 1, A Fractured World

Eighteen

Stone aimed and fired.

The driver of the armoured car swept right as the bullet splintered his side window. He had crept along Stone's flank, looking to ram him, but had instead found himself staring down the long barrel of a revolver. The jeep was on his left, out wide, holding back, burning across the rough terrain. The pickup truck loomed in his rear view mirror, strips of metal across the front windscreen. He could see two warriors inside the cab. A third manned the cartridge belt fed heavy machine gun mounted on the flatbed. He hadn't open fire and Stone had to assume the Cleric wanted him alive. That was never going to happen.

The three vehicles bunched around him, dropped back suddenly and then shot forward.

The jeep swung in hard and fast. His car took the impact and he gripped the wheel hard, trying not to spin off.

The armoured car then slammed into him, but ran against the spikes and pulled quickly away, one of his tyre mesh guards trailing off into the dirt.

Steadying the car, Stone fired off two shots from his revolver, both bullets careering off the armoured car, forcing him further wide, bumping off the road and onto the hard dirt.

The jeep rammed him again, metal torturing metal. A warrior leaned out and repeatedly hit the roof of the car with an axe.

With both side windows rolled down, Stone levelled his revolver and squeezed the trigger. The bullet whistled past the driver's nose and the jeep swerved away and back into the dirt.

The pickup truck was coming in hard now and Stone's car jerked forward as he was rammed. He wrestled with the wheel, losing control for a moment, sliding left and right, tyres squealing against the road. The armoured car crunched against him, leaving huge dents on the front and back doors. The pickup rammed him a second time and he lurched forward. The warrior standing on the flatbed hurled a large rock at the back of his car. It went straight through the rear window, spraying glass across the back seats. He banged his fist on the cab of the truck and reached down for another missile.

Stone spun the wheel left and crashed into the jeep, forcing it from the road in a shower of dirt.

Tyres burning hard, he pulled away, the three vehicles scattered loose behind him, but accelerating quickly.

The warrior on the back of the pickup truck threw another rock through his back window and the remaining glass shattered. He drew a machete and climbed onto the side of the pickup, holding on with one arm. The truck came in. Stone swerved right and battered into the armoured car. His car was tossed back into the centre of the road. A warrior leaned from the armoured car and shot out his front tyre with a crossbow. Stone felt it at once, the shredded rubber flapping uselessly.

There a loud thud behind him. He steadied the wheel, turned, revolver in hand. A machete wielding warrior was scrambling towards the back window, shouting, eyes wild, skin dark from the sun. Stone fired. The bullet burst through the man's shoulder, spitting out flesh, but he held onto Stone's car and lunged in through the back window. The warrior thrust the machete and Stone shifted from his seat fast, one outstretched arm clinging desperately to the steering wheel. He tried to line up the shot as the car bounced and swerved. The warrior thrust again with the machete and tore through Stone's sleeve, slicing into skin. Stone grimaced as the pain burned through his arm but he couldn't let go of the wheel. The armoured car swung in and rammed him. He felt the car spinning. His arm was burning. He jammed his revolver towards his attacker and fired until the gun clicked empty. The warrior slumped down onto the back seat.

Stone pulled himself back into the driver's seat as his car was hit again, from the left, then the right.

Quickly, he shrugged out of the long coat, glancing at his slashed arm, streaming with blood.