NOVEL NEXT Chapter 179: Burning bridges
"Duck, you!" Tristan snapped just before more bullets peppered the sides and back of the car.
More windows were broken, but people inside the car took cover before they were hit. Flying shards of glass left scratches on skin, but most of it was covered by thick military-style clothing which protected its wearers from harm.
Tristan could barely see what was happening in front of the car anymore, since he was ducking, too. He poked his head up just enough to scan the grass ahead.
Then the car went out of the effective range of the enemy rifles and he lifted his head a little.
Bullets were still flying around, but now almost none hit. Tristan found a flatter part of the field and used it to speed up and push over the ditch again.
The second time was much less graceful than the first. The car hung over the emptiness dangerously for a moment, and Tristan wondered if it would get stuck now, but luck was on his side.
They returned to the asphalt and started moving away from the roadblock even faster.
"Yeeeeeah!" Kund shouted.
"They are getting into their cars!" Decker cried out a moment later. "They are going to chase us!"
"Of course they are," Tristan said with the calm he didn't feel.
Their car was already battered by all the off-road driving their team did in the last week. Now it also had more holes than Swiss cheese.
The engine rattled, the steering wheel was moving jerkily, and the fuel gauge showed a rapid decline in the amount of gasoline inside the tank.
It meant that something had pierced their fuel tank. Not a direct hit from a bullet, probably, since they still weren't on fire. But it was only a matter of time until they either ignited or just ran out of fuel.
Or until their engine just couldn't keep to the upper limit of its speed and the Angulos people caught up with them.
"They cleared the glass for me, and I've recharged, so nothing stops me from shooting the bastards," Decker said.
Through the rear-view mirror, Tristan saw him turn in his seat and point his rifle at the three cars that were following them at a distance. Cutout raised his head.
"I will help, too."
"No. Instead, get our remaining bombs out of the storage and make them ready to be detonated via remote," Tristan ordered. "Kund has nothing better than to shoot—but don't do it until they are close enough that you can aim properly!"
"At it, boss!" Kund said, aiming his rifle. "I can aim fine from here."
Decked grinned evilly.
"Yeah, boss. Let's blow up some bastards."
The bastards now were five cars: two came out to the front and three trailed behind. Tristan didn't think he would blow them up with just two bombs.
He also knew that there were reinforcements coming from nearby posts. He could easily imagine their likely locations on the map in his mind.
On that map, his car was a bright yellow dot. And if Tristan just focused for a moment and let his hands drive by themselves…
He could see it—a bright blue path to their escape.
On the next turn, Tristan turned left, down a two-lane road. Ahead, he could see a narrow, shiny ribbon of a river.
Tristan sped up, using the last vestiges of fuel and power left in his vehicle. Next to him, Kund was shooting and swearing.
"I got the bombs ready for a remote blast!" Decker cried out. "What next, boss?"
The road sloped down so much that the car sped up again, now beyond its normal limit. Just a couple hundred meters ahead was a tiny one-line concrete bridge. Just a hundred meters behind were five cars full of Angulos people.
"Drop the bombs on the bridge, Decker!"
Tristan let his left hand off the steering wheel and pulled out the remote detonator.
Decked reached out from the window as their car flew forward like a large, lumbering, but still flying bird. A swan and its last song.
At that speed, it would take barely more than a couple of seconds to cross the bridge. A single wrong move on Decker's part might make the bomb fall too far from the center of the bridge, or off the bridge entirely.
Tristan wished he didn't have to depend on other people to do things. It was the worst kind of gamble.
'No matter how you trust them…'
The car dashed past the bridge. At that moment, time slowed down for Tristan.
Through the back-view mirror, he could see how Derek reached out with his hand in slow motion, dropping both bombs on the ground, and still did absolutely nothing to help him.
But then the bombs fell right in the middle of the bridge, and the time resumed its normal pace.
Tristan didn't slow the car's engine, but it still began moving slower—the rest of the road was uphill. The distance between them and the chasers diminished.
The front cars began slowing down before the bridge as they noticed that something was wrong. Maybe they even saw the bombs.
It didn't matter—they were too slow to stop, anyway. Find more to read at empire
The first car drove to the bridge and Tristan pressed the detonator as the bombs were right under it.
He turned his head back just in time to see the twin explosion. His eyes opened wide and his lips twisted into a wide smile on their own at the sight.
The car flew in the air like a kicked up balloon, turning upside down in flames of fire. The bridge shook from the explosion and then again when the car landed.
[Hidden task complete: make a really Hollywood-worthy explosion. Reward: your PP increased by 3000.]
Old concrete began crumbling and pieces of the bridge fell to the ground. The entire construction was too solid to be destroyed with just a pair of Tristan's bombs, but it didn't matter.
The wreck of the destroyed car now fully blocked the bridge.
Angulos' drivers shouted and tried to stop or swerve their cars away from it, but it was too late.
They crashed into each other like a pile of dominoes. One car turned from the bridge at the last moment, only to drive right into the river and begin sinking.
Decker swore with awe.
"This was fucking insane."
Kund laughed and clapped his knee.
"NOW we are in the clear!"
In confirmation of his words, the bridge was getting farther and farther away. At this point, very few from this team could chase after them, even on foot.
As for the reinforcements, they will also have to cross this river, and this bridge was the only one for miles.
Tristan smiled, too, but his smile soon disappeared.
There was only one problem.
Tristan tapped the fuel gauge, but it didn't magically refill it.
He imagined the road map of the place again. There was a road stop two miles away—a gas station, a motel, a diner for travelers.
The car gave up on them after one mile. For better or worse, the road was completely empty—it looked like it was half-abandoned at the best of times.
"Pack all the things," Tristan ordered. "We are going the next mile on foot. And THERE we will find a car. Cutout, can you walk?"
He grunted positively in reply. To prove his words, the first thing Cutout did after everybody left the car was to walk around a little.
It was obviously not easy for him, even without a backpack.
Everybody quickly packed their things, then split Cutout's share. Tristan took the most on himself, since he knew he could carry it. Then Tristan moved to a safe distance, lit a twig, and threw it at the car.
The fumes and the leaked gasoline went in flames immediately, rapidly consuming the plastic and the fake leather. Tristan put away his lighter and let out a breath.
"A fire funeral… Let's go, team."
A mile wasn't too long, at least. Even in the heat and while trying to kill as many as possible approaching mosquitoes with an anti-insect spray.
The gas station stood on the pathway to a much wider and more populated motorway. Cars drove by, and the four bloody and dirtied people with guns were going to be very conspicuous.
"Stay here. I'm gonna get us a new car. Keep the things, too," Tristan said, dropping his backpack in bushes a hundred meters away from the gas station.
Tristan himself was dirty, but at least not bloody. And he left himself only a handgun hidden under his clothing. And what's more, he could be very inconspicuous when he wanted to.
There were a couple of people at the gas station besides the cashier at the store. Neither of them paid any mind to Tristan, who dimmed his aura to the maximum. Their gazes slid right off him as he walked past the gas station to the motel and the cars parked there.
'Hm, which one should I choose?..'