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

car to its left and started dragging it off the road, toward the clear, shallow waters of the river running parallel. The wide and tall side of the van was too inviting a target, and Maxine put more shots into it. The tracers sparked something inside, and blue flames blossomed from all the holes. A larger explosion rocked the van just before it hit the water.
    Maxine turned the gun to the second car, but it was already slowing and turning away. They were racing along the road between the river and old commercial buildings now. The car turned sharply down a street that offered sanctuary, started to fish tail, corrected and then ended up driving into a wall.
    There was nothing worth shooting at behind them for the time being. Up front, Fabien's and Sarah's guns still fired. In the relative quiet, Georges' breathing was ragged in her headset. She turned to find him still propped against the back wall of her cupola. His grimace put strange lines on his face.
    "Are you okay? What happened?" Maxine reached out to grasp Georges' arm.
    "The bullet proof vest stopped a bullet, but it still hurts like hell." He indicated a damaged section of his armour on the right side of his chest, pulling back a torn flap to expose the silver of a flattened bullet. "I think I felt something snap. Let me get my breath back. I'll be okay."
    Maxine squeezed Georges' arm. "Don't get shot again. I want you in one piece, lover."
    "I'll do my best."

* * *
    The buildings ahead were getting larger and closer together. On the right, the hills drew nearer, and on the left, they were already a wall, just the other side of the river. They were approaching the spot where they would have to sweep left and hit the route down to where an ambush awaited those following them.
    They had been following a two lane road down to this point. Torn apart by repeated frosts and thaws, it was really little more than a grey line through fields and old hamlets. Now, it seemed to disappear altogether, giving way to squares of concrete, patches of bush and trees, and a multitude of burnt out, rusted car wrecks. Beyond the wasteland, the river grew wide and shallow. They would cross it there, rather than risk bridges which were obviously barricaded.
    Georges and Sarah had broken out the smoke grenades and were tossing them behind and to the sides of the trailer. Remy could see where he was going, and the truck could shunt aside most of the obstacles. The Raiders following them would have to slow down, or run the maze of debris blind.
    Remy weaved the truck between vehicles down what had been a street, following the buggy. Slowing, he turned as hard right as he dared. They were running along the side of the river now, looking for a place to cross. Remy pulled himself up to get a better vantage.
    "Can we cross soon? We're getting closer to their friends on the other bank." Fabien said.
    "If you see somewhere, shout out. You're higher up."
    There was chattering from Fabien's gun as he harassed the Raiders he had spotted on the far bank. Then he came back on the radio, "Slow down. About two hundred metres ahead."
    "I see it."
    "And I see Raiders." Justine said. "On our side of the river. I've got them."
    There was a gaggle of bikes heading along the road toward them. Guns had already been drawn, but they were waiting until they were much closer before they started shooting. The buggy zipped ahead of the truck. The gun mounted to its roof didn't fire, it had run dry some time before. They were going to meet between walls, but there would be room for the bikes to rush past on either side. They split. The buggy could, at best, get a couple of them by running down one side of the road.
    In the truck cab, Justine twisted the control wheel hard left. Ahead, the buggy turned sharply. The front right wheel dug in to the loose surface, and it turned harder. Then, the front hit the leading edge of the wall. The rear came around sharply, and suddenly, the vehicle was sideways, almost wedged