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Stories from the Verse
A Dozen Verses
Chapter 155: Kondor 309
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Cooper 124
Dirt scattered around Kondor from the rain of bullets coming down from the scaffold and in from the sides, as he gunned the bike forward. He was uncertain whether he should weave to interfere with their aim or go straight to escape more quickly. It occurred to him that perhaps he ought to have worn his bulletproof vest, but then he immediately realized that any shot that might penetrate his torso would almost certainly have to pass through Amanda to reach him. He did not like the idea that he was using a mortal as a shield. Unfortunately the only way to change that would be to drive back at them.
That caused him to realize that Zeke was headed his direction, and back toward the Sheikh’s tents even as he and Amanda began to speed away. He wasn’t sure that was such a good idea--what could the lieutenant do but draw their fire? On the other hand, he didn’t have a better one. He unholstered his pistol and handed it back to Amanda. He was going to shout that he assumed she knew how to use it, but then, the fact that he was handing it to her under these circumstances pretty much said that for him, and if she didn’t she would probably figure it out quickly enough.
Suddenly there was a new rain of bullets, but not at him. It seemed Zeke’s bike was equipped with some kind of automatic rifle pointing forward alongside the centerline. He hadn’t noticed it before, but then, he hadn’t ridden Zeke’s bike. The rapid automatic fire caused attackers on the ground to dive for cover, creating a bit of a window, and Kondor steered into it.
He could feel Amanda twisting around behind him, and heard his pistol’s report, then again, then again. Zeke passed him going the other way with a cocky grin on his face. They were getting clear. The enemy opened up--but not at Kondor, probably because Zeke’s bike with the autoweapon was more dangerous so they attacked him first. Listening, he heard Zeke throttle down his bike for a spin in the sand, and heard Amanda shout.
“Zeke’s curved about, and he’s going to escape and follow us.” She fired. “Oh, Zeke! Duck! Joe, we have to stop, he’s--” Kondor spun the bike around and saw his friend stagger off the bike with blood on his shirt and his face. His doctoral training said the shots had come through his back. He was clearly not seeing anything, and already in shock, and then he hit his knees to the sand, and vanished along with the bike.
Versed out, Kondor thought, and began to turn the bike back to escape when he felt a piledriver smash into his left shoulder, another one under his armpit. Either a very good shot, or a pair of lucky shots, the soldierly part of his mind informed him. The doctoral part told him he had almost no chance. The broken shoulder would make it very hard to escape on a motorbike, and the shot through the armpit was likely a heartshot.
“He vanished! How did that happen?” he heard from behind him as he tried to drive the bike forward with two feet, a low engine, and one hand. Men were running up toward him, raising their guns, but they did not fire. Indeed, something like terror was in their eyes--they had all seen a man and a bike vanish into thin air. He tried to go up slope, but found himself sliding sideways, and had to turn to stay upright. Irritated slightly he saw that he had turned back toward the tents again, and desperately he fed gas to the throttle. Speed was his only hope of getting up the soft shallow slopes and escaping into the desert, and a faint hope at that. Now, if only he could get Amanda to hold one handle of the bike since his left arm was useless. Unfortunately with the blood filling his mouth, he could not speak.
He realized he was now headed straight for the end of the scaffolding. He tried to take advantage of the moment to figure out what had happened while his back was turned, and recognized what he took to be the body of the sheik alongside the huge body of his bodyguard splayed on the dirt. He stared for an instant too long, and realized he needed to turn sharply and probably slow down to avoid crashing--but as he turned he found himself headed straight into an AK-47 which managed to unload directly into him, and so he lost control, hit the scaffold, and wiped out on dirt which turned to something like linoleum as he slid across it, and the world became abruptly dimmer and cooler.
There is a behind-the-writings look at the thoughts, influences, and ideas of this chapter, along with eleven other sequential chapters of this novel, in mark Joseph "young" web log entry #536: Character Confrontations. Given a moment, this link should take you directly to the section relevant to this chapter. It may contain spoilers of upcoming chapters.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
