Rebecca Split (Sparks will fly)

Poisonous Milk

There was no time for handover notes or messages in the mud, only a time for instinct and, as the tanker slowly ground into its first gears, as it passed Psychos position hers kicked in. Thankfully she caught a glimpse of the driver as the cab drew level with her and knowing, from her brief conversation with Rebecca, the basis of where they were and what the objective was, she was able to put two and two together very quickly and act, even before she had checked her sums.

The large, polished steel barrel of the tanker rolled slowly by as the vehicle began to pick up speed. Attached to the back, allowing a gantry access to the top of the vehicle, was a narrow ladder which stretched from just above the rear spoiler to the top, where it levelled out onto a flat, ribbed walkway that covered the length of barrel, from back to front, with a single break in the plate through which a large cap protruded.

The filling and cleaning of the tanker was done through a series of hoses and pumps that were stored along the base of the cylindrical tank, but this top cap allowed checking, along with human entry and egress, as and when required. More over, the ladder allowed the perfect grip for someone wanting to jump onto the moving vehicle and, like a bandit chasing down a steam train in the old Wild West, that's exactly what Psycho did. She ran as fast as she could behind the vehicle, arms outstretched until, with a final surge, her finger tips touched the metal, her hands grasped the rungs and her feet suddenly swept away as the vehicle speed reached a point that she couldn't keep up with.

The toes of her boots bounced across the road surface like a frenetic out of tune tap dancer as Psycho established and firmed her grip on the rung of the ladder. She tried to use the strength in her arms to pull herself up but each time it looked like she would make it, her strength gave and she slipped back, coming precariously close to falling onto the increasingly fast moving road surface beneath her. Eventually, and with a massive effort, she began to swing her body, from the hips, swaying side to side until she had just enough momentum to hook her leg onto the back base of the vehicle and use the combined strength of legs, arms and any other bit of herself that she could, to pull herself to safety. It was a colossal and cumbersome effort, far less cool and easy than it looked when stuntmen did it on the TV screen and something that she would have never bothered with if she had realised that, just as she had succeeded in her death defying task, the Tanker was going to pull to a halt at the traffic lights at the end of the road, where it would then sit for just over four minutes waiting for its turn to move out into the busy intersection.

Although Psycho would have had sufficient time to walk from her hiding place opposite the factory gates to the traffic lights, and back, by the time the tanker finally began moving again, even had she been dressed in an oversize mascot costume and divers fins, she did not allow it to affect her morale. Instead she used the opportunity to climb up the ladder to the top of the cylinder, walk across the top foot plate and climb down an identical ladder at the far side, into the gap between the cylinder and the back of the cab.

Once there she made herself as comfortable as possible and settled down for the journey ahead, taking the opportunity to get both her breath and her strength back.

Just over an hour later the tanker pulled off the main road into a tree lined picnic area. Psycho didn't know where they were but it was the middle of nowhere, and hidden from view. She considered dealing with the Sparkie there and then, but knowing that information was paramount, she opted to see if she could find out what he was up to first.

As the girls had already established that the Waifs did not like to talk about their plans, Psycho decided against the direct approach, opting instead for the sneaky-beaky routine. As the driver climbed from his cab she simply crawled from her hidey hole and hid under the truck where, although her view of activities was distorted from some angles, it was more than good enough to see what was going on.