GunBarrel Gauntlet: The Last Bronze II

33. Death Choppers.

Careening out of the tunnel on a gas sled without control, the one-eyed trucker was thrown from one side to the next, the delay of gravity pulling her about with only the restraints to keep her from being ground between the rocket's frame and the wall.

Torchlight erupted into view as the sled spun out of the gate with its tail of flames, jumping erratically into the maze of tyres after it had skidded through the open battleground of the pit.

Inverted against a tyre wall until the gas tanks had finally ceased, the width of the sled's cage rolled away, cycling Carrion's perspective of the pit, sky, and stadium together in a nauseous vision until it had settled upright.

Spitting the knife from her mouth to catch on her lap, Carrion pulled the restraints taught to their limits, reaching for the tool to free herself. A hundred or more voices were continuously shouting down at her from the grandstands*, discordant noise that added to the confusion of the arena she found herself in.

A rattling sound suddenly eclipsed the noise, another set of gates slammed aside under the momentum of a second gas sled pushing its nose against the wall surface, skidding against the cement before it ricocheted around the maze, forcing Carrion's sled aside as it passed.

The collision had knocked the knife out of Carrion's hand, dropped through the frame to lay exposed in the orange glow.

Breathing hard after the rollercoaster terror of the rocket sled, the Nomad craned his neck and dropped the knife from his mouth to land on his thigh, fighting to reach it with a hand when the buzz of cycle engines shattered the air.

From opposite portals within the walls of the arena, a pair of monstrous gladiator bikes entered the pit and toured it's limits. Overlapping frames from repurposed Kawasaki cycles gave both bikes the capability of carrying a forward fixed aircraft propeller, extending from the handlebars with a second engine to turn the blades and shred anything in its path.

Basking in the attention of the audience, the Death Choppers were in no hurry to begin hunting, riding over the burning remains of Tiny and the other executed men, playing with the bodies by churning them under the back wheels of their ostentatious bikes.

Sawing the tether of his right wrist by rocking his whole body, the Nomad had barely cut halfway through the bond. Distracted by the effort to hold the knife at an odd angle, he was unaware that he had been discovered by one of the Death Choppers, it's engine idling like a hungry beast as it crept into the maze and turned into the trench corridor he was trapped within.

Lunging forward, the prop blades sparked against the pipe frame of the sled with rapid cuts that peppered the Nomad in splinters as it made a testing pass.

Tearing his hand free of the weakened bond in the seconds before the next confrontation, he continued to desperately hack at the final restraints and slip through the open frame, leaping from the sled to climb the tyre wall and avoid the returning spray of friction sparks caused by the chopper.

Throwing herself in the sled chair to make the frame hop by fractions toward the fallen knife, Carrion's efforts were undone as the other Death Chopper barged her sled aside. Looping effortlessly through the maze to find her again, the rider harassed the immobile rocket sled continuously, the teeth of its chopping bite muzzled by the welded piping of the frame.

Circling the tyre wall on which the Nomad had climbed for refuge, the other gladiator paced him like a shark, shadowing every attempt he made to manoeuvre along the top of the wall. Luring the Death Chopper into a blindside corner of the maze, the Nomad made his move, dropping from the high ground to tackle the rider about the neck and shoulders.