Pickers 4: The Pick by Garth Owen Read Free Book Online Page A

Lookout Point. Make sure you aren't seen, but keep giving us reports if you can. If they come in, we'll just spring the trap on them. Over and out."
    "We will. Over and out."
    Veronique ran her fingers over the map, tracing roads and various other lines. "I think they've had the same idea as us. They want to use the pinch point where the two hills come down and narrow the plain."
    Tony looked down at the bowl of land below them. "Well, we'll just have to spoil their plans, won't we."
     

A whole town's worth of Raiders was on the move. More than Maxine had ever seen. This reminded her of the nightmares she had never told anyone about, from their early days in the bad lands. Hordes of bad men- Raider gangs were almost exclusively male, in dream and reality- descending on her family to do terrible things to them.
    Over time, as she learnt to fight and scavenge in her waking hours, she had taken control of her dreams, until she could turn the attacks on their heads and lay waste to whole kingdoms of Raiders.
    The big gun had burnt its way through the first box of ammunition. It had taken longer than she had expected, but she had only fired short bursts of three or four shots at a time. With the massive projectiles it launched, that was more than enough to halt even the larger vehicles that had come up behind them. One of the big rounds could easily crack an engine block.
    Their mission was to get the truck full of valuable equipment back to the Valley without bringing a hundreds strong Raider party with them. So bringing vehicles to a halt was the gunners' primary aim. Body count wasn't important- though Maxine knew there were several less Raiders than when they had set off- they were breaking through a blockade There were a lot of cars and vans on the road behind them that would never run again. Bikes, and the occasional small buggy, were harder to hit, but she had taken down some of those as well.
    "I'm reloading!" Maxine shouted into the microphone. It was impossible to talk quietly after being sat behind the roar of the gun. "Georges, cover the back of the trailer." She lifted the empty ammunition box from its cradle and tossed it into the void below her feet.
    "I'm on it." Georges was closer than she had thought, already braced against the back of her cupola. As Maxine opened the gun, he fired at the mass of bikers that were darting around the road behind them. His gun sounded different. As she grabbed another box of shells, she spotted that he had changed to the big automatic shotgun they had found. The round clip was loaded with exotic shells, such as the one that exploded against the road between a pair of bikers and sprayed them with shrapnel. He put another couple of shots in amongst the bikes. Two fell, tumbling in a painful rag doll way. More turned away and slowed.
    Despite Georges' fire, the vehicles behind were gaining on the truck again. They had realised the big machine gun was no longer firing, and perhaps thought it was done for good. The big van that was flanked by two smaller cars had its own cupola on the roof. It didn't have Maxine's big gun, but the two smaller machine guns, mounted side by side, blinked as it drew closer. Maxine didn't hear the chatter of it firing, but was quickly aware of the clang and ping of bullets against the armour of her cupola.
    A moment's shock made her fumble the chain of big bullets. Georges was crouched even lower, firing his shotgun around the edge of her gun shield. She grabbed the heavy links, fed them into place and slapped the top back down. Hauling back the priming handle, she lowered the barrel and depressed the trigger. The gun jumped, and the front of the van shattered. Two of the bullets she fired were glowing yellow dots. Tracer. She had heard about it, but never found any.
    The van was waggling across the road, gently tapping the cars either side of it, then changing direction. The wiggle became more pronounced as Maxine put more bullets into it. It caught the