Chris always wanted to partake in a high-speed car chase. He just assumed it would involve his motorcycle and not precious cargo aboard a forty-ton death rig. Or Molly, as he affectionately referred to her.
The semi looked sharp. A fan of apocalyptic fiction of all kinds, he always wanted one of these. The train, foundry included, arrived two days ago, allowing them to install alternating gold and flat-black plating over the entire unit. The armor protected the important passengers within while providing some style. Karter fashioned the four-foot wheels with spikes welded onto the lug nuts. The black wench chains on the grill and along the trailer were his own personal touch. The rig looked mean. Especially with her special attachment. A gift from him to Karter.
As he swiped to spike the tires on another Humvee pursuing them, Chris grinned. Molly worked out just fine.
This crazy scheme—a concerted brainchild of Tumu, Karter, and Pehton—unraveled fast. The ninja assassins attacked the radio station as predicted, chasing the AM/FM broadcast to the Clear Channel Metroplex.
Unfortunately, they traced the signal of Jack’s projection back to the Icarean device. And if the kid were anywhere else, Chris might enjoy himself. Alas… he checked on Jack in the mirror again.
The trailer, accessible from the cab, contained the CB radio and camera monitoring equipment installed by the Valkyrie. While Jack gave his Story Circle sermon, the kitted-out toy blazed down the abandoned interstate.
“We’re all alive here because of Rayne, Tameka, Sagan, Andrew, and Kyle. But also because of Xelan, Karter, and Lucas and so many other amazing Icari who chose the side of good. They defect every day from the monstrous treatment by their King.” Jack carried on and told the story of how Lucas helped set up the survivor community at the Capitol.
Chris put his eyes back on the road and checked their flanks. This was necessary. In a war close to culmination, humanity needed to see the benefit of working with the Icari toward future mutual existence. He swerved hard to take out the motorcycle on his right.
Jack read Chris’ mind as he continued, “The world can’t be the same. Even after we win, our previous way of life ended. But that’s not all bad. The Icari have so much to offer us…” Finally, some radio coverage to combat Nox’s repetitive programming.
The kid’s cadence and charisma hypnotized even Chris. He glanced at Karter in the rear-view and knew this was a step in the right direction. She changed into a Kevlar biker chick get-up, and her mohawk brushed the ceiling. Gripping the upper cabinet railing, she monitored the raid at the radio station from the console.
Para, one of the badass Valkyrie, came across his earpiece, “On your signal.”
Enraptured, Karter stared at the screen, watching for the exact right—
“Now!”
Chris divided his attention between the road and the cameras in back. He swerved against another motorcycle for good measure. It caught on the rear spikes and flipped end of over end.
A great cloud of dust obstructed the screen. Then nothing. Silence.
Jack looked between them. “Do you think they’re okay?”
She gripped his shoulder. “Without a doubt.”
The three held their breath as the dust cleared.
“There!” Jack called out and pointed at the monitor.
They heard about of a maneuver used against Rayne at the Phoenix Cult of Night compound. It seemed poetic to snag the enemy in a similar trap. The ninjas groaned and jerked under a weighted net constructed with gold filament they hid in the ceiling panels. Smith put it together for them on the train.
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Karter ordered her troops to move in. The women of Cinder cuffed and gagged the assassins with special materials designed for Icarean interrogations. “We’ll learn everything we can from them.”
“I need to thank the Valkyrie again for agreeing to this.” Chris turned back to stare into Karter’s beautiful green and black eyes.
Jack grinned at the monitor. “We can use this feed to show people how much the Icari can help us.”
Karter glanced to the windshield, and a wicked grin accentuated her exotic features. “Looks like we got some takers.”
And did they ever. Chris turned back to the road and ceased up. This much effort over one teenage boy?
On interstate 430 they approached the Stagecoach overpass. The enemy set up a blockade beneath it. Ten shadow-clad assailants lined the guardrail up top with very heavy artillery. Their friends below barricaded the interstate with the strangest vehicle—if that’s what it was—Chris ever laid eyes on. Made of unusual amber glass, he saw clear through to the four operators inside. Instead of wheels, it used pods for legs. It settled across the road like a roosting hen. Another ten assassins hid behind it like a shield. Big spider only with six legs.
Jack asked first, “What is that?”
Karter hauled down the ladder to the hatch. “Nacre glass. It’s a higher caliber crawler. Never saw one that big before.”
Chris threw over his shoulder, “You able to stop it?”
“Watch me.”
Slightly turned on now, Chris slowed the rig down and kept it steady. She climbed through the hatch. In the mirrors, he watched her run along the top of the trailer to her favorite new toy. He beamed with pride at the grin on her face. He made that.
The flatbed behind the trailer served only one purpose. An anchor. She prepped the stabilizers and gave him the signal.
“Hold on, Jack!”
Chris cut a hard u-turn. The tires squalled, and the smell of burnt rubber wrinkled his nose.
“Whoa.”
Jack’s expression made Chris look in the mirrors to follow. Karter already set the stabilizers down for the trailer and aimed the Howitzer at the blockade. The dumbasses didn’t even move out of the way. The guys up top just hopped down behind the crawler thing. When she fired, it shook the entire rig, and the glass rattled.
Chris and Jack held their breath, waiting for the shell to land.
An exceptional plume of concrete and dust erupted from the overpass. The debris, beams, and pylons crushed the crawler. Hopefully, their assailants with it.
Over the earpiece, she said, “I want reinforcements at this location. We encountered an unexpected bug. We need pest control.”
Kater hopped off the fortified flatbed and approached his door. “I think the henchmen survived inside. Nacre glass is indestructible because it heals as we do. But I think the debris trapped them.”
“Will the crawler still operate?” Chris liked the idea of learning to drive alien tech.
She nodded. “It should. But they take skilled pilots and require a nacre to power it. I guess in this case, we’re looking at four.”
Chris blew the air out of his cheeks on a whistle. “That seems big—”
“What was it like firing that thing?!” Jack bounced into the window next to Chris’ face like an overeager Labrador. He glared at the younger man, who ignored him with a broadening grin.
Karter threw back her head and laughed in the way that made Batman hope she’d consider being Catwoman. Especially with the sparkle in her eyes as she said, “Exhilarating. Humans are silly, but I like your toys.”
Valkyrie descended on the scene, fast and efficient.
Karter communicated with a hand signal or two before turning back to the boys. “I’ll work with them to recover the crawler. You two head—” Her Icarean comms device erupted with noise. All three glanced at it. She snatched it up. “Let me change it back to all channels.”
A beautiful sound called in, “Batman and Robin, this is Alpha Progeny One. Over.”
Jack gaped, and his hazel eyes blew wide. “Rayne?!”
Karter handed him the device through the window. He spoke so fast his words strung together, “Alpha Progeny One, this is Robin. Go Ahead. Over.”
“I’m so proud of you, Jack.”
The teenager beamed.
Chris and Karter shared a smile.
Then Rayne continued, “I’m hijacking your show a bit. I hope that’s all right?”
“We’ll help in any way we can!”
Para whispered something upsetting in Karter’s ear. Chris tracked it by the catch of her breath.
Rayne’s instruction distracted him from it. “Keep talking about the Icari, but also talk about the train.” Her voice grew stern. “Do not give away its location but promote it. Copy?”
“Copy that. But don’t you think it should have a name?”
Jack glanced between the two adults with him. They both approved with a nod.
Voices exchanged for a moment and the Sovereign Ambassador hopped on the line. “You tell people it’s called Iron Hope. You got that, Robin?”
The three shared a glance. And they smiled. “Copy that, Alpha Progeny Three. Iron Hope. Over.”
Karter waved for the device then. “Shadow Progeny, this is Karter. I need to speak with Tumu. Over.”
Tumu’s fathomless voice called over the comms, “I’m here, Sparkles. What’ve you got?”
When Karter connected with each of their gazes, the hair rose on the back of Chris’ neck. She looked scared as she spoke one word, “Imminent.”