Death Drive

Chapter 25

Thomas didn't wait for the predators on the other side of jungle of jagged steel to come for him but stepped on the gas and accelerated away. The rest of the squad followed to the best of their ability. The autonomous vehicles were not dazed by their momentary dormancy either and came for them without a delay. Trying to buy time for the others, he lured some of the attackers aside, but the onslaught was still too much for two of the other drivers, whose vehicles were bashed and mauled mercilessly, leaving Thomas with just one other carful of support. They made for an opening and broke out of the mayhem of onrushing vehicles, finding more room to maneuver. They rushed down the street, the engine of their car roaring. From around a bend in the road came on obstacle, like a wall rising from the ground to barricade them in with the horde. It was a group of autonomous trucks, driving side-by-side towards them like a great moving cordon.

Thomas cursed and turned the wheel sharply, his actions based more on instinct born of experience than any conscious deliberation, more like an artist so overwhelmed with inspiration he feels that a greater power is at work through him while he is only the entranced conduit of creation. And that instinct was his only chance, as one could not arrive at a calculated decision faster than the electronic hivemind of his pursuers.

"Stop! Stop! STOP" yelled the young man next to him, each repetition louder than the one before. But stopping was not an option as the vehicles pursuing them would pour in, and there would not be enough room to avoid them. So he charged the iron curtain closing in, staying close to the frontages of the building lining the avenue. When the hard steel and glass of the of truck's noses filled his vision, he swerved right, crashing through a show window into a clothing store, turning the car around so they slid sideways in a storm of hats, coats and mannequin pieces. The trucks streaked past, braking heavily but as they were not nimble enough to change their course on such short notice, they passed the store. The Charger hit the inside wall of the store, right side first, but even that was not enough to slow him down and he shot out of the boutique, emerging behind the line of trucks that now dammed the metal deluge of Ampere's vehicles behind. He did not see the car with Crawford's men inside and knew he never would again.

The trucks backed up, but by the time the way was clear he was long gone. He punched the steering wheel in anger. "We had it. For a moment, I thought.... Maybe Crawford has the equipment for us to pull it off again and this time we'll shoot down them before they shoot us."

"Maybe," was all his companion said.

Their path was unobstructed, so it didn't take long for them to get back to the docks. The sun was setting, his brain conjuring an ambushing predator out of every shadow. Streetlamps were turning on, the ones that worked, not that the energy-efficient eco-friendly bulbs offered much more than faint sparkle in terms of illumination. Because of the half-light of the city general, they could see the lightshow in the docks from a mile away. A heavy sense of foreboding settled in his stomach, and he raced ahead.

The warehouse was surrounded by innumerable vehicles, like ants swarming anything that falls into their nest. Heavier vehicles took turns ramming the entrance, faster than the crane operator could ever crush them. Further away, the Chosen were taking up vantage points, firing at heads peeking from the windows of the structure. What had seemed an impregnable fortress was now but a desperate folly, a drowning man grasping at a straw.

He was so focused on the besieged warehouse he noticed the hulking shadow only when it was almost on top of the docks. An ocean liner, automated like most modes of transportation were, coming straight towards the warehouse without slowing down, dwarfing everything around it with its incomprehensible proportions. It crashed with the docks, cleaving through the concrete, unconcerned with the wide gashes that were opening in its hull. The impact shook the ground, so his car rocked from side to side and the sound of rending metal was like a million voices screaming in unison. It obliterated the wall of the warehouse, knocking down the heavy ramparts of containers before finally coming to a stop. The vehicles poured in through the breach in the wall in overwhelming numbers.