James Axler – Gemini Rising

Listening to the sounds of the forest, Ryan glanced at the passenger van behind him and waved at Mildred. She flashed her lights in return. A few days off her feet and the physician was completely healed. Only now Krysty was suffering through a nasty cold and spent most of her days sleeping, most of her nights sniffling. It was odd how it had come on so fast. That dip in the creek had to have done her some damage.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Stephen asked. “We’re less than a day from Royal. Let’s shake a leg.”

Gunning the engine to keep it from stalling again, Ryan ignored him and checked their fuel level. Less than a quarter of a tank. Even if they could, running wasn’t a viable option.

“Hey, J.B., you see this?” he called out the window.

“Not blind yet,” the Armorer retorted, adjusting his glasses.

Annoyed, Stephen scanned the trees and bushes with growing confusion. “What are you talking about?” he demanded. “Keep drivingthe road is clear.”

“The pass is anything but clear,” Ryan replied, taking the Steyr off the dashboard and working the bolt to chamber a round. He placed it on the seat between them, then checked the clip in the SIG-Sauer. “We’re sitting in the middle of an ambush, and the next move I make may chill the lot of us. So shut the fuck up and let me think.”

Holding on to the wooden slats, J.B. poked his head through the window. “This is really bad,” he said, handing over a couple of grenades. “I don’t see how we can get out of the trap.”

“Buy us some time,” Ryan said, turning to the caravan owner. “Take out that scrap of map and pretend you’re checking something. Be casual, act natural.”

Sweat dampening his brow, the fat man hurried to obey, wondering what they saw that he couldn’t.

Briefly, Ryan considered they were wrong. But the facts said no. There were no birds singing in the trees, which was the first thing that caught his attention. A lack of wildlife was always a bad sign, as it usually meant someone was about. That was when he noticed the trees on the left side of the road had most of their bark removed for about a yard or more at ground level, the exposed green wood crushed and battered. With the hill to the right, it only made sense that some boulders had rolled down and crashed into the trees doing damage.

Only there were no gaps in the boulders high on the hill, and none on the road or amid the trees.

“We’re in a killing box,” Ryan stated, gauging the distance to the end of the pass. A hundred yards at least, so a quick sprint was completely out of the question, as was trying to back the convoy up and avoid the ambush. Only a fool would give victims a way out, and whoever designed this was no fool. He recalled the Trader once saying that when the front door was blocked, jump out the window. But where was the window here? There had to be one.

“If we’re in a trap, how come nobody has attacked yet?” Stephen asked nervously, hiding behind the torn map. Then he broke into a chuckle and lowered the ratty sheet of paper. “Oh, I understand. Well, I’m not paying a bonus for battling imagined dangers. You had a chance to cut a deal for jacknow just drive the truck and stop acting tough.”

Coldly, Ryan weighed the option of killing the idiot so he wouldn’t do something stupid in the forthcoming fight and get everybody chilled, but decided against it. They were going to need every blaster. He might be a fool, but Stephen could pull a trigger and that was good enough for today.

“We’re taking too long,” J.B. said from the back. “They’re going to get wise.”

Pulling the choke completely out, Ryan turned the ignition a few times and let the engine rev without catching. “That should do it. Go check under the hood. Make them think we’re having trouble.”

“Right.” J.B. jumped to the ground and casually sauntered to the front of the vehicle.