Intervention | NaNoWriMo 2018

Chapter 23

Disclaimer: The following chapter is the non-edited draft of what was written during NaNoWriMo 2018. My apologies in advance for plot holes and other inconsistencies.

Note that this is the last chapter written mostly during NaNoWriMo.

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Potter stomped on the accelerator in an attempt to make his truck move faster. With an iron grip of the wheel, the truck was careening across the dry, desert surface, a cloud billowing behind it. Two of his most trusted wingmen flanked him on each side.

He still couldn't believe Gibson's betrayal. There would be hell to pay later, that much he had promised himself as he had left Gibson in the dust in the Cauldron. Potter was tired of the games his rival played. Enough is enough.

Potter gripped the wheel harder as he kept his eyes on the path ahead. He needed to forget Gibson for the time being and focus on the pursuit. Up ahead, the cloud from vehicle his watchmen had spotted was clearly visible, hanging over the horizon like an immobile cloud. With his faster vehicle, Potter knew that it would just be a matter of time before he caught up with them. He allowed himself a smirk as he slammed the wheel to the left to easily avoid a dip in the road. Running was pointless. I always get my prey.

Up ahead, the dust cloud seemed to subside and clear. If Potter hadn't known better, it would have been an indicator that the vehicle he was in pursuit of had slowed their speed. He knew that wasn't the case. The Mudflat Canyons were up ahead and that in itself explained the decreasing amount of dust. His target had begun its descent into a maze few dared enter. Excellent.

"Eagle's Nest, this is Potter. Proceed to the canyon choke point, pronto!"

After a few moments of silence, the lead spotter on the Eagle's Nest team replied.

"You want us to leave our observation post?" the man said slowly, enunciating each word.

"That's what I said, isn't it?" Potter yelled into the mic. "I need you at the choke point."

"What about the Nomads?"

"What about them? I'm right behind our target, the Nomads can do without a watching eye for a few hours. What else could they possibly do?"

"All right, if you say so. Proceeding to choke point. Over and out."

Potter shook his head in disgust. Getting his own people to listen was such a challenge sometimes. Were they really questioning his decision making? It was obvious that their target was within reach and they wanted to argue about it? Were they getting too comfortable sitting in one spot? Yes, that had to be the answer. They were too comfortable just sitting around. He'd make sure the shifts rotated more often. He couldn't have his spotters sitting on a rock, complacent and comfortable.

A few minutes later, the dusty ground ahead of Potter began to slope down and within a few minutes, jagged walls of red and brown rock rose up on each side of his truck. The chattering of small rocks hitting the wheel wells on the desert flats had been replaced by a flapping sound produced by the mud that flew off the heavy tires of his truck. Pieces of mud sprayed outward on each side as Potter kept his foot to the floor and his eyes on the muddy tracks in front of him that led deeper into the canyons. Within seconds, he was forced to slow down somewhat to allow the wipers a chance to keep up with the mud that smeared across the windshield.

Potter slammed his hand on the steering wheel as he slowed down and shifted down to a lower gear, muttering under his breath. A rut in the trail pulled the wheel to the left, forcing him to grab the wheel with a steel grip as he fought to keep the truck on the trail. It was too late. The truck spun around 180 degrees and he found himself facing the direction he had come from. His wingmen slowed down to help but Potter waived them on.