“Sparks,” Cody murmured. “Are you monitoring the Enforcement audio lines, Tia?”
“Yeah,” Tia said. “They’re confused. They think this is a full-out assault on the city. Prof keeps blasting copters out of the air, and we all went different directions. Enforcement seems to think they’re fighting dozens, maybe hundreds of insurgents.”
“Good,” Prof said. “Cody, are you clear?”
“I’m still dodging a few cycles,” he said. “I’ve ended up looping around.” He hesitated. “Tia, where’s the limo? Is it still out?”
“It’s breaking for Steelheart’s palace,” she said.
“I’m heading along that way too,” Cody said. “What street?”
“Cody …,” Prof said.
Gunfire from behind distracted me from the rest of the conversation. I caught a glimpse of cycles, their drivers holding out SMGs and firing. We were going more slowly now; Megan had driven us into a slum neighborhood where the streets were smaller, and she was weaving us through lots of twists and turns.
“Megan, that’s dangerous,” Tia said. “There are a lot of dead ends in there.”
“The other way is all dead ends,” Megan answered. She seemed to have recovered from whatever lapse had almost led her to drive us right into a blockade.
“I’m going to have trouble leading you,” Tia said. “Try to take the next right.”
Megan started to break that direction, but an approaching cycle moved to cut us off, the soldier firing an SMG one-handed toward us in a spray. Megan cursed and slowed, sending the soldier on ahead, then she broke left down an alleyway. We nearly slammed into a large garbage bin, but she managed to weave around it. I guessed that we were barely going twenty.
Barely going twenty, I thought. Twenty mph down narrow alleys while being shot at. It was still insane, just a different kind of insane.
I could hold on pretty well with one arm at these speeds, Cody’s pack thumping against my back. I probably should have dropped that by now. I didn’t even know what was …
I felt at the pack, realizing something. I carefully slung it down in front of me, between Megan and myself. I gripped the cycle between my knees, let go of Megan, and unzipped the pack.
The gauss gun lay inside. Shaped like a regular assault rifle, perhaps a little longer, it had one of the power cells we’d recovered hooked up at the side. I pulled it out. With the power cell it was heavy, but I could still maneuver it.
“Megan!” Tia said. “Blockade ahead.”
We turned into another alley, and I nearly lost the gun as I grabbed onto Megan with one arm.
“No!” Tia said. “Not right. That’s—”
A motorcycle followed us into the alleyway. Bullets hit the wall just above my head. And right in front of us the alley ended in a wall. Megan tried to brake.
I didn’t think. I grabbed the gun with both hands, leaned back, and raised the barrel right over Megan’s shoulder.
Then I fired at the wall.
29
THE wall before us went up in a flash of green energy. Megan tried to turn the cycle and stop. We skidded through the churning green smoke, pebbles scattering under our tires, and slid out onto the street on the other side, where we came to a halt. Megan’s body was braced for impact. She seemed stunned.
The Enforcement cyclist burst from the smoke. I swung the gauss gun and blasted his cycle out from underneath him. The shot turned the whole motorcycle into a flash of green energy, vaporizing it and part of the officer on it. His body went rolling.
The gun was amazing—there was no recoil, and the shots vaporized instead of really exploding. That left little debris, but gave a great light show and a lot of smoke.
Megan turned toward me, a grin splitting her lips. “About time you started doing something useful back there.”
“Go,” I said. The sound of more cycles was coming from the alley way.
Megan revved our motorcycle, then led us in a darting, stomach-churning pattern through the narrow streets of the slum. I couldn’t turn to fire the gun behind us as we drove, so instead I clung to her waist with one hand and settled the gun on her shoulder to steady it, using the iron sights, scope folded down to the side.
We roared out of an alleyway and skidded toward a blockade. I blasted a hole through a truck for us, then for good measure hit the armored unit with a shot to the leg. Soldiers scattered, yelling, some trying to fire as we sped through the opening I’d made. The armor unit collapsed and Megan dodged to the side, down a dark alley. Shouts and curses sounded behind as some of the cycles chasing us got caught up in the confusion.
“Nice work,” Tia said in our ears, her voice calm again. “I think I can get you to the understreets. There’s an old tunnel up ahead at the bottom of a flood gulley. You might have to blast your way through some walls, though.”