Lifel1k3 (Lifelike #1)(83)

“If you do not divert course, I am authorized to use lethal force,” the pilot warned. “You have fifteen seconds.”

“… Ana?” Ezekiel asked.

“I’ve got this,” she hissed.

She dragged back the sunroof, stood up for a better view. Sweating inside the snot-green plastic rad-gear, she felt the dust and sand pattering on her visor. Ana reached out, narrowed her eyes against the dawn light, locked them on the Tarantula. Picturing herself back in the WarDome. Remembering the taste of blood in her mouth. The pain. The terror. Dragging it all up from her belly, mixing it in with the anguish of seeing Babel again. The memories of her family. Alex. Olivia. Tania. Marie.

Mother.

Father …

All of it. Every shred. Every drop.

“Come on … ,” she whispered.

“Ten seconds.”

“Ana?” Ezekiel shouted.

“I’m trying!”

The pilot braced his machina’s legs in firing position. Ana curled her fingers into claws. The Eve in her refusing to flinch. To turn away. They’d met death before, after all. Spat right in its face. Clawed and bit and kicked their way back from the quiet black to this.

This is not the end of me.

This is just one

more

enemy.

Static electricity dancing on her skin. Denial building up inside her, pulsing in her temples as the Tarantula’s missile batteries arced to life. Rage bubbling up and spilling over her lips as she raised her hand and screamed.

And screamed.

AND SCREAMED.

…

… and absolutely nothing happened.

“Firing.”

Missiles howled from their launch tubes, dozens of them streaking toward Thundersaurus, smoking vapor trails behind them. Ezekiel tore the wheel left, the truck tipping up onto two wheels for a torturous moment before crashing back to earth with a spray of dirt. The missiles roared in from the sky, exploding into boiling clouds of fire behind them. Deafening impacts shook the truck, Ana slipping back down into the cabin and hanging on for dear life. Another salvo of missiles hit alongside, blasting the floor mats loose from the broken windows. Ana felt the heat almost blistering her skin.

“What … t-the hells?” Lemon groaned, lifting her bleeding head.

“Lem, keep your head down!” Ana roared. “And get your seat belt on!”

She held out her hand, trying to summon it again. Her power. Her gift. Whatever the hells you wanted to call it. The affliction that had seen her hunted by the Brotherhood, chased across a wasteland of radioactive glass by a cybernetically augmented killing machine. The curse that had seen the biggest CorpState on the Zona Coast put a contract out on her head.

Trashbreed.

Deviate.

Abnorm.

Fat lot of good it was doing her now.

“Why won’t it work?” she hissed.

The Tarantula let loose another volley, and only Ezekiel’s skill behind the wheel kept them from all being incinerated. The earth around them blossomed into beautiful flowers of flame and black smoke, shrapnel peppering their hull. Ana could see two Titans charging across the wastes in their direction—huge bipedal machina that made Goliaths look like toy soldiers. A Juggernaut was rolling right at them, too, tank treads cutting the dirt, autoguns blazing. Kaiser began barking out the back window, tail thumping against the seats. Cricket poked his head up to quiet the blitzhund down, his mismatched eyes boggling as he spied what had riled Kaiser up.

“Um,” he said. “Point of order …”

A spray of high-velocity rounds shattered the front windshield, Ana shrieking as Ezekiel pushed her below the dashboard. The engine blew a plume of black smoke, making a sound like bolts being dropped into a meat grinder. They were still at least two kilometers from Babel’s suburban sprawl, but if they could get into the streets, there’d be more cover. Ezekiel gunned the engine, hitting an old broken highway; Ana crawled into his lap and stretched her hand toward the machina now moving to cut off their path to the city. She closed her fist. Gritted her teeth. Tears in her eyes.

“Dammit, why won’t it work?”

Lemon groaned, trying to pull herself up in her seat. Cricket waved her down, double-checking her seat belt as he spoke.

“Um, I don’t want to alarm anyone. But you might wanna look behind us… .”

Ana peered through the busted rear window, heart sinking as she saw a familiar figure roaring out of the glasstorm. He was riding a different motorcycle, probably recovered from one of the Freebooters Ezekiel had shot. His chest was crusted with dry blood. Clothes shredded. Gas mask over his face. But still, there was no mistaking him.

“Preacher … ,” Ana breathed.

“Are you kidding me?” Ezekiel glanced into the rearview mirror. “What does it take to kill this fu—”

The missile caught them on the driver’s side, striking the earth just below the door. Every remaining window in the truck exploded, glass spraying the cabin as Thundersaurus was flung into the air, spinning as it went. Lemon wailed, clutching her seat belt as the truck tried to fly. Ana wasn’t lucky enough to be belted in, Ezekiel folding his body over hers and roaring “HOLD ON!” as Thundersaurus crashed back to earth, flipping nose to tail in a hail of glass and flame. The world turned end over end, Ana cracked her skull against something hard, blinding pain seething through her Memdrive. No way up or down. Endless, agonizing moments as the truck kept rolling, crashing, splintering, finally skidding to a smoking halt.