Pickers 4: The Pick (5 page)

Luke was upside down, hanging over a drop to hard packed dirt. But he didn't mind. His laugh was a cackle of joy as he waved his arms around.

"Aren't you a sight, little silly face." Veronique said, nose to nose with the child her husband was dangling from the wagon door. "At least you are glad to see we're back."

"He's been investigating all the new hiding spots since we stripped the wagon down." Tony said. "Ready to catch him?"

"Got him." Veronique had a firm grip on Luke's dungarees, and a hand under his shoulder. Luke lowered him until it was obvious she had a good hold, then let him go.

Veronique tumbled Luke to the ground, and he wobbled as he remembered how to balance. His arms went straight up, to be lifted again. Veronique boosted him until he sat on the edge of the wagon's door.

"We worked out how to get the seed pods out, and managed to bodge together a power supply for the freezers. Myriam says she already has a spot set aside where they can be stored until they're all sown." Tony said.

"Get the turbine running, then. We need to recharge the batteries before we head out again."

"So they went for the plan?"

"Some. We won't know just how many until we set off."

"An Me!" Luke called out, pointing and then waving.

Myriam was walking toward them slowly, occasionally faltering under the weight of the big rifle she carried. "I heard you were planning an ambush. I thought I'd bring the long reach."

Georges had sat down, but it was less comfortable than standing. As road noise from the rough surface became vibrations on the trailer roof, the muscles in his butt were going numb from the hammering. He'd stand again in a moment, but he wanted to adjust the straps of the armour he wore.

It was lightweight and flexible, and only felt a little like a bullet proof corset when the straps were pulled tight. He could still run and jump and fight with it on. Satisfied with the fit, he stood and walked back to Maxine's cupola to loosen his muscles again.

Maxine had a heavier version of the armour. She didn't have to run around as much. Her hand reached out as he approached, and they bumped fists.

"We have company." Justine's voice came over the radio. "I've attracted attention."

Georges stared ahead, but couldn't even see the buggy beyond the crest of the hill they were climbing. Maxine twisted in her seat, but could see even less of what was ahead of them. She gave up on trying and swept her gun through the full arc of its travel, limbering up.

There were lockers behind each of the trailer's cupolas, which Georges had stocked with weapons. He opened the one behind Maxine's position, and chose an assault rifle with a grenade launcher mounted under the barrel. There was a bandoleer of grenades which went over one shoulder, and he already had spare magazines in his trouser pockets. Wobbling as the truck sped up, he walked, unsteadily to the middle of the roof.

Up ahead, there was the sound of the buggy's gun, answered by other weapons. "I'm going to try to draw them away from the road and then get them under your guns." Justine's voice said.

Raising his rifle to his shoulder, Georges knew he wasn't going to be able to aim as he swayed back and forth. He went down on one knee and braced. The sights still bounced around, but significantly less than they had before.

The road still ran uphill and curved gently to the right. On the left, the landscape rose sharply, whilst on the right, the slope was far more gentle. Georges spotted their buggy, being chased by a pickup and several motorcycles. He could just hear the rip of their motors. The action was too far away for his rifle, but Sarah let loose a short burst with her bigger gun. Dust danced up along an uneven line just short of the pursuers. As the buggy skipped over a rutted field and bounced toward a change in direction, Sarah let off another burst. One of the bikes went over. The rider disappeared in a plume of dust, but the bike bounced up and connected squarely with the rider of the bike behind it.

They had reached the crest, and Fabien had caught sight of the Raiders who hadn't taken off in pursuit of the buggy. His big machine gun opened up. From his crouched position, Georges couldn't see what Fabien was shooting at. He returned his attention to the buggy, which was now skimming downhill toward the trailer. Aiming over it, he let off a couple of three shot bursts. It was probably still too far for his gun to be effective, but he wanted to join in.

The buggy crossed the road behind the trailer, bounced, got sideways and straightened out. Its wheels found grip, and it accelerated up the left side of the truck. The pickup and bikes followed it onto the road, then reacted as if they had only just spotted the truck. Maxine's gun opened up on the pickup, tearing big holes in it, and the bikes scattered to escape. The pickup took out biker as it slewed off the road and started to roll. A pair of bikes tangled and went down. Maxine danced in her seat, trying to follow the small targets and loosing the occasional shot.

One of the bikes sped up enough to get below the angle Maxine could fire at. Georges dropped flat. Trusting the cable that held him, he scooted over to the edge of the roof, popping just his head and gun over it. The bike was alongside the trailer. The rider had a gun drawn, but was unsure what to fire at. Too late, he spotted Georges, who had braced his rifle against the edge of the roof and let loose a burst.

The bullets put holes in the fuel tank and the rider's thigh and gun arm. The rider jerked the handlebars around, the front wheel dug in, and he was catapulted off. Georges pulled himself back up and clambered across to the other side of the trailer. There was only the buggy to be seen here. When he made it back to the spine, he went back into the crouched position.

They were passing the Raiders that Fabien had been firing on. There was the remains of a camp, with a car on fire, a number of bodies scattered around, and yet more motorbikes starting up and milling about. Georges spotted a bunch of them, with sidecars. The passengers held grappling hooks and other boarding gear. He aimed just above them, and moved his trigger finger forward.

The grenade launcher made an odd pop as it fired. Georges could just see the dot of the projectile as it arced toward the assembled bikers. It exploded just in front of them, peppering the riders with shrapnel. Sarah spotted the explosion, and brought her gun around to fire in the same direction.

Suddenly, it was over. They had rolled past the small camp, and there were no more vehicles following them. It was quiet again, but for the wind and road noise.

"Everyone check in. Front to back." Remy's voice said in Georges' ear.

"I am okay. The buggy is still running." Justine said.

"Cab gun. All fine." Fabien.

"Front guns. I had a jam, but I cleared it." Sarah.

Georges had stood, and was staring ahead. They were running downhill again, and the valley most of the way to the town was in view. There were half a dozen other small camps scattered around, and a smoky haze over the town itself that hinted at lots of fires and cookers. "Trailer roof. I'm good." he said, quietly.

"Rear gun. All good. But I can't get them when they get too close." Maxine said.

"I've got the sides covered." Georges said, heading back to stand behind the rear cupola.

"Okay. We have more of the same coming. We don't have to kill them all, just out run them. So the closest ones are the targets of choice. Hold tight, we are speeding up." Remy said.

There was a moment's shuddering, as the wheels on the trailer started getting power and the motors raced to get up to speed. Then the extra traction kicked in and, strangely, the truck felt more stable.

Veronique jumped when the little hand tugged at her sleeve. When she looked down, she just managed to bite off the expletive that had nearly been on her lips.

Luke reached up, wanting to be lifted onto her knee. He'd had his fun hiding, now, he wanted to see what was going on. Tony looked over at the movement, and wasn't as good at controlling his language. "Shit. How did he get here? I thought we left him in town."

"He does love hiding. And we were rushing around. I guess we didn't check everything."

"Is something wrong down there?" Myriam's voice came over the intercom.

"You could say so. We've got a stowaway." Tony replied.

"Stow.... Your little one's along for the ride?"

"He is."

"Well, I bet you have a nice bullet proof cubby he can go in if things get crazy. But that shouldn't be a problem. The whole point of bringing me and my gun along was to do damage at a distance. I was hoping to stay out of any craziness anyway." Myriam sounded a lot calmer than either Veronique or Tony felt about the child's presence.

"Travelling Base, Travelling Base? This is Lookout Point. We have movement heading our way. But it's from Northwest, not Northeast. Over" came a voice over the radio.

"Northwest?" Veronique draped Luke over her shoulder, and he giggled. She carried him over to the map table and checked roads. "I don't see any way they could be coming from the Northwest. And not this soon, either."

"Lookout Point, this is Travelling Base. Can you give us a vehicle count Lookout Point? Over." Tony said into the radio mic.

"Lots of dust. But there's one lorry. Not a truck, a lorry, not articulated. Maybe a tanker. And a couple of vans, and lots of motorcycles. They're all Raiders. Over."

"We copy 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 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."