Chapter 441 (2/2)

”Get. In. The. Car,” Dambree said, moving over and tapping on the window.

Tru unlocked the doors.

”Why are you carrying your brassiere?” Uncle Inkee asked.

”There was a man,” Aunt Fenn said.

”GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!” Dambree yelled out. All four of them turned and looked at her. ”Get in the car or I'll leave you here.”

Dambree didn't wait for an answer, just got in. Tru climbed over the seat and Dambree handed the bag to her. ”Pull out the nibbles, use the metal foil to make everyone hats,” Dambree ordered.

”Mama, daddy, please,” Meglee said. ”Dambree knows what she's doing.”

Tru nodded at Dambree's words.

It was geting dark, and Dambree knew one fact.

The always came out at night.

Her aunt and uncle got in the middle bench seat, her cousins getting in the back.

Mister Mewmew climbed up and nuzzled Dambree then flashed a :) on the black macroplast between his eyes. As Dambree pulled out, turning around and heading for the freeway, Mister Mewmew checked out Aunt Fenn.

”Why are you carrying your bra?” Uncle Inkee asked as they drove down the freeway.

”A man made me take off my blouse and bra,” Aunt Fenn said quietly.

”Oh,” Dambree could hear the pain in Uncle Inkee's voice. ”What happened?”

”Are you OK, mom?” Cousin Ellaf asked.

”Dambree killed him. She just killed him,” Aunt Fenn said. She started sobbing. ”It was terrible. She didn't say anything, just killed him.”

”I'm glad,” Cousin Ultrek said, his 11 year old voice firm and proud.

”Don't say that!” Uncle Inkee said. ”Dambree killed a person!”

”They aren't people any more, Uncle,” Tru said. She held out a round cap with holes for the ears made out of the thick foil that had wrapped the self-heat. She had pulled all the self-heat tabs off and put them in her pocket, saving them in case they needed to be used later. ”Put this on.”

”What? Why?” Uncle Inkee asked.

”So that the Slorpy screams don't hurt your brain and make you hurt people,” Elu said.

”Put it on,” Dambree snapped.

”Young lady, you should...” Uncle Inkee started.

”Kee, stop,” Aunt Fenn said softly.

”But, Fennie, she...” Uncle Inkee stopped.

”Just stop, Kee,” Aunt Fenn said. She looked out the window. ”Just do what she says.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the car as Dambree kept driving. She cracked open a can of ”Liquid Hate” (6.4% alcohol by volume! 2,000X Daily Recommended Caffienne! Five times daily recommended sugars! What, do you want to live forever, asshole?) and gulped some down. Her stomach cramped and her eyes teared up, her mouth burned from the chemicals, and for a second she almost threw up.

Then the feeling went away and she could feel energy returning to her tired limbs.

Twice more the shout sounded out.

This time nobody flinched, their hats securely on their heads.

The sun had set and the road was empty on both sides when Dambree saw it.

A trio of crashed strikers, some parts still burning.

She slowed down, wove between them, then came to a stop.

”Tru,” she said, unlocking the door. She knew Tru would know what to do.

Tru climbed over the seat.

”Mister Mewmew, come with me?” Dambree asked.

Mister Mewmew gave one of his weird vocalizations. It had become garbled after the Slorpy had attacked. Instead of 'mew' or 'meow' it was more 'mrawowra'.

Dambree got out, waiting till Tru got in the driver's seat. Mister Mewmew jumped out, stumbling slightly and recovering. Tru locked all the doors but the middle driver's side, her face tight with worry and her ears flat against the back of her head and neck.

Looking around her, Dambree slowly walked back to the wreckage. The three strikers had hit the ground and tumbled, the impact damaging them but they'd held together well. The weapons and the grav-pods had torn off, but the main body was intact on all three. The crysteel windshields on the cockpit were starred and cracked, but Dambree could still see two unmoving forms in the cockpits.

She climbed into first one, moving slowly, and explored it. Fifteen unmoving Terrans in the main part, two slumped over panels toward the front. Two still belted in and slumped in the front. She walked to each one, checking each of the strikers as Mister Mewmew checked the motionless armor, and found the same thing in each one. They were all heavily armed, all in heavy black armor, all with opaque faceplates.

All dead.

She got out of the last one and slowly walked back to the car, stopping next to Tru and tapping on the window.

Tru rolled down the window.

”Elu, Uncle Inkee, Ullie, and Ellie, come with me,” she said. ”The rest of you, keep watch,” she looked at Tru. ”You see anything, three fast hits on the horn.”

”I remember,” Tru said softly. Her lower lip trembled. ”It's happening again.”

”I know,” Dambree said softly. She held out her hand and Tru handed her a fizzybrew. She cracked it open as her male relatives got out, still looking subdued and anxious at the same time. She took a couple of drinks, then moved over to the males.

Tru rolled the window back up.

”Don't touch anything I don't give you,” Dambree said, leading them to the strikers. ”Don't touch the Terrans. Don't get in. Don't touch the guns,” she ordered.

Her relatives didn't say anything.

She stopped at the first one. ”Wait here,” she ordered.

Uncle Inkee nodded. Her two male cousins just nodded. Elu turned around to look at the forest beyond.

”See if there's survival kits and first aid kits, Mister Mewmew,” Dambree said.

Mister Mewmew flashed a smiley icon and jumped up into the striker, stumbling slightly. Dambree got in, moving to each soldier. Most of the rifles were gone, vanished in the tumbling wreck, but she found two of them. She found three pistols, jamming one in her waistband, then carried them all out.

”Put those in the trunk,” she said.

”Dambree, you're robbing the dead,” her uncle protested.

”I know,” Dambree said. She kept speaking as she turned away. ”They don't need it any more.”

Mister Mewmew located the two survival packs and the first aid kit and it took a few minutes for Dambree to get them loose. She set them near Elu and moved on to the next striker. Then the next.

As her relatives carried the last of the scavenged supplies back Dambree knelt down next to Mister Mewmew and held out the pistol she'd tucked in her waistband.

”Can you unlock it?” She asked.

Mister Mewmew nuzzled the pistol for a moment and it suddenly felt warm in her hand.

--coding-- appeared on the digital display on the side. --patterned-- appeared. Then, finally: --synched--

”Lock,” Dambree said.

The pistol's light on the side went to red.

Dambree sighed, tucking it back into her waistband. She knelt down next to the one she had taken the pistol from, looking over his belt. After a moment she managed to get it off of the dead Terran. It was really big on her waist, but she got it tightened down.

The pistol clicked as it attached to the belt.

”Thank you,” Dambree said softly, staring at the dead Terrans. She turned away and started walking back to the car, Mister Mewmew keeping up with her. He still limped slightly, but not as bad as before they had been 'rescued' the year before.

Tru climbed around the sleeping Nee, sitting in the passenger seat, as Dambree got in and locked the doors. Dambree turned around and looked at everyone. Everyone but Elu stared back, frightened.

”Everyone get on the floorboards,” Dambree said. ”It's dark. They mostly come out at night.”

”Mostly,” Elu said, sliding down on the floorboards.

”There's no room,” Meglee said.

”Make room, Meg,” Dambree said, putting the car back into drive.

”How much longer?” Ellie asked.

”A day, maybe a day and a half, depending on what we run into. We should get there all right,” Dambree said. ”I'll drop all of you off at the cabin and while you're unloading the car I'll go rob the store again.”

”You shouldn't steal,” Ellaf said, his nine year old voice firm.

”I know,” Dambree said.

The car went silent again as Dambree drove through the darkness. One by one everyone but Mister Mewmew and Dambree went to sleep. Tru was leaned against the seat, snoring and drooling. Nobody was on the seats, even Nee was on the floorboards down with Tru.

Dambree cracked open another can of Liquid Hate and slugged down a good third of it.

She couldn't afford to get tired.

She had been on the road for a little over three hours when she came around a corner and saw it for the first time.

Everything wavered. For a second there was no road, just grass, then it wavered again while the car shuddered over the grass. People were crying out as Dambree hit the gas pedal and everything wavered again. Trees appeared and Dambree barely managed to avoid slamming into a tree, the bark flying as the wheels went over the roots and the trunk scraped against the side of the car with a scream.

It wavered again, the highway returning.

Dambree pulled the wheel as the car scraped against the concrete barrier in the middle, sparks showering up. The windows on the driver's side of the car all shattered.

That wasn't what Dambree was swearing at.

Dozens, hundreds of stilters suddenly stood up, appearing out of thin air.

She shot through two of the fliers, then a third, then a fourth. The last one felt like the car was driving through molasses, and with a sudden pop the rear bumper of the car tore free, stuck inside the flier.

Dambree whipped the wheel, getting off the freeway and into the mellitgrain field, the car bumping and thumping over the furrows.

”Elu, are they following?” Dambree called out.

”I can't...” Elu called out. ”No.”

A pair of Third Telkan strikers roared by overhead.

”EVERYONE DOWN!” Dambree screamed out, turning so they were running at a 45 degree angle to the highway.

Flashes lit up the night behind them, and the ”BRAAAAAP” of the Telkan strikers was loud. Explosions roared and large flaming clouds rose up behind them.

Dambree pressed the accellerator harder, trying to push it through the floor as the car got above 60 kph jumping across the furrows.

Lasers snapped by overhead. The screech of particle beams tore at the night sky.

The strikers came around for another pass even as the door guns hammered at the Atrekna combat vehicles.

Dambree shot out of the grain, across a road, and back into the grain. She whipped the wheel, feeling the vehicle shudder, and pulled around in a fishhook to get back onto the dirt road.

A slorpy flier went by, then another, then a trio. Four more went by overhead cut lights connected them to the pursuing striker. The slorpie flier shuddered and shook, explosions flashing out on its hull as the striker punished it with its forward 30mm chain gun. Debris, shards of armor, and flaming internals showered down around the car.

The fliers peeled off and the striker followed, still firing.

Expended shell casings bounced off the roof of the car, off the windshield, off the hood.

Dambree kept going, remembering last time. How the slorpies had pulled her mother out of the car.

She had the car up to 90 kph, the engine screaming as it was pushed past what the governor would normally allow, past manufacturer recommended tolerances.

Another slorpie flight went by, pursued by a striker, and more shell casings rained from the sky.

Her cousins screamed in fear.

Dambree was looking in the rearview mirror and saw the landscape back at the freeway waver again.

”MORE COMING!” Elu yelled out. He was on his knees on the back seat, looking out the rearview window.

Dambree saw it up ahead. A farmhouse. Not lit, but that didn't matter to her.

She whipped off the road, heading straight through the grain. The car slowed, bumping over the furrows, almost got high centered twice, but Dambree just gritted her teeth and willed the car to keep going.

She hit something, something hidden in the grain. Things slammed against the side of the car, things jumped on the roof. She couldn't get a good look at them, they were blurry, but looked like crystal eggs set in a crown with six legs and waving sawblades.

The front tire blew out but Dambree kept the accelerator down.

The car thumped over something else, a clanking noise starting from under the car, but it still moved.

The headlights had shattered, but Dambree kept going, steering toward where she could glimpse the farm house now and then.

When the grain vanished Dambree let off the pedal, slowing the car down.

A Slorpie stilter and two fliers were circling the house.

”Everyone shut up,” Tru hissed.

Dambree slowly moved the car behind the bar and shut it off.

”Nobody look up, nobody speak,” Dambree said softly as she slid under the dash, sitting on the floorboards. She pulled the pistol off the belt. ”Unlock,” she whispered.

The telltales went green.

Four times Dambree heard screams. Once one of the stilters gave out a trumpeting cry.

Someone screamed right afterwards for a long moment before it suddenly cut off.

A striker roared by, guns hammering, and Dambree heard the stilter and the fliers either run from it or chase it.

She slowly counted to a hundred and got up on the seat. The engine ground several times before it whirred to life. She put it in gear, having to move the lever three times before it would lock in, and pressed on the pedal.

The car clunked and shuddered, the engine RPM's ran up, but the car started to slowly crawl forward.

They came around the barn and Dambree slowly drove it in a circle around the house, looking at the house through the empty windowframe.

Three vehicles. One a large one. One medium. One a little smaller than the one she had now.

Dambree parked next to the medium one and shut off the car, which was beginning to smell like burning plastic and rubber.

”Stay here,” Dambree ordered.

Nobody argued except Mister Mewmew let out a mrawrow and clambered over the seats.

They'd all seen the boy missing the top of his head laying discarded on the lawn.

Dambree held the pistol in her hand as she headed toward the house. In her other hand she held the remainder of the can of Liquid Hate, sipping at it.

She searched each room slowly, finding nothing but the dead, holes in the walls where people had been yanked out by the stilter and the fliers. She covered the bodies with jackets or pajama tops or shirts.

She pulled the blankets and sheets off the beds, putting the pillows in the middle so it made up a carry bag, and set each bundle in the hallway.

In the parent's room she stopped, slowly turning and looking.

There was a cradle there.

She slowly turned and looked through the room.

The blankets had been pulled off the bed to fall next to it, on the side facing the hole in the wall

Her guts clenching, she knelt down and looked.

Bright amber eyes looked back, a suckie in the baby's mouth.

Dambree closed her eyes for a moment and breathed a sigh of relief. She reached in, grabbing the baby's foot and pulling it out. It glared at her, kicking at her.

Young enough it was still mostly feral.

Dambree picked the baby up by the back of the sleeper and slowly walked outside. She stopped next to the front door, looking at the keys on the hooks. She sighed, clipped the pistol to the belt, and just grabbed all four sets of keys.

She walked out, moving over to the car. She handed the baby in through the window. Aunt Fenn took it, flicked it on the nose when it tried to kick her with both feet, then looked away from Dambree.

Dambree went through, checking the vehicles.

She could get everyone into the littlest one, pack everything they had into it, but everyone would be crammed in tightly. The medium would would be a little better.

She didn't bother with the big one.

Big meant they could see you easier.

The littlest one only had a 35% charge. The medium one was topped off. The big one was at 10%.

That made up her mind for her.

Dambree walked back to the car, leaning in.

”Unload everything from the car and put it in the green one,” Dambree ordered. ”Tru, you oversee. Elu, Ellie, Uncle Inkee, follow me.”

”You're not going to rob these poor people's house, are you?” Uncle Inkee asked.

”Just do as she says, Kee,” Aunt Fenn said, staring at the baby. ”Just... just do what she says.”

”We don't have long. Another group will come by and we won't get lucky,” Dambree said.

She led her uncle and cousin into the house.

With the pistol in her hand.