Renegade Runner by Nicole Conway (ebook reader with highlight function .txt) 📗

arm throbbed and stung, but I didn’t dare look. I didn’t want to see how bad the damage was. “If you’re sure they were the ones using it, that is.”

Phox was still gaping at me, like he’d reached a point in his fury where he couldn’t even form words anymore. Finally, after a few slow blinks, he turned his focus back to flying and muttered under his breath. “Yeah. I’m sure. A weapon like that isn’t her style.”

“And what about her partner?”

He shook his head slowly. “She runs the show. She wouldn’t stand for it. A weapon like that’s too big and clumsy. She’s all about speed, precision, and—”

A violent crack jarred our ship, forcing Phox to bear down on the controls and make a dangerous dip toward the canyon wall on our right. Our wingtip kissed the rock with a screeching scrape.

Whipping around, I spotted Sienne’s ship dipping back slightly as though withdrawing. She was trying to slam us into the rock wall! Anger crackled over my tongue as I looked ahead again.

“I-I lost the rifle,” I confessed.

“Doesn’t matter,” Phox retorted. “Buckle your butt back into that seat, would you?”

I obliged, and as soon as my harness was secured, he whirled our ship into another aerobatic spin that sent us rolling over so that we were directly above Sienne’s rival craft. I clung to the armrests, white-knuckled and sucking in frantic gasps as we dove, dipped, spun, and spiraled in a deadly dance right alongside her. She moved in sync and we rocketed like two dogfighting high-speed jets, keeping pace and never letting us get more than a ship-length ahead or behind.

We couldn’t shake her. Not like this.

Beside me, sweat and blood oozed down Phox’s face. His chest shuddered with a breath that seemed to make him lurch forward dangerously—as though he were fighting consciousness. How much longer could he keep this up?

Not long enough, probably.

Time for Plan B. I gathered up the frayed, shattered bits of my nerve and seized the control panel in front of my seat. My hands darted over the controls, bringing up the hologram of Thermax and spinning it to zoom in on the storm. It was still spreading toward us, taking a shape with a clear eye in the center like a mega-sized hurricane. Heh. Too bad I was from Florida. Hurricane, shmerricane.

My gaze darted to a portion of the terrain dead ahead where the canyon split into three different channels. With the storm moving toward us from one side, that split was likely our only chance to avoid it. We could probably skirt around and barely kiss the edge of it if we kept up this speed and went for the outermost channel.

Or …

“Phox, heads up. I’m altering course.”

“What?” He snapped his gaze back over to me. His eyes went wide when he saw me realign our flight path from the branch of the canyon that would allow us to narrowly miss the edge of the storm, shifting it so that we’d directly intercept it. “Oh, hell no. We are not doing tha—”

“She won’t follow us into it!” I fired back.

“Yeah, because it’s suicide!”

“Got any better ideas? Cause you know I can’t fly this thing. If you pass out on me over there, we’re screwed!”

He couldn’t glare at me for long. Not when Sienne’s ship love-tapped us again, setting off another sequence of warning alarms that blared through the cockpit. With another string of curses, he thrust both joysticks down and gave her a direct, spiteful ram in return. It rattled our craft and sent a shower of sparks raining over the windshield.

“Fine!” he seethed.

“Wait for her to stop following and then cut the engines. We can wait it out,” I muttered. It had to work. At least then I could try to help treat his wounds. He’d have time to recover before we started this up again. Right?

God, I hoped so.

Shooting another venomous glare down at Sienne’s ship, I confirmed the new course and sank back in my seat. We just had to make it to that fork in the canyon, then we’d see. We’d see if she was brave enough to punch through our barricade this time.

22

IMPACT

WARNING—WARNING—STORM PROXIMITY ALERT!

Phox waved a hand over the heads-up display projected over the windshield, silencing all the blaring alarms and stopping flashing lights that obstructed his view. Dropping his arm back to the joystick, I tried not to stare as his head rolled dangerously toward his chest, his eyelids fluttering. Then he jolted upright again, wheezing and gritting his teeth.

Just a few more minutes. We could do this. We were so close. He just had to hang on a little bit longer.

A flash of brilliant purple light bloomed through the cockpit, accompanied by a deafening crack. I shrieked and jerked back in my seat, instinctively reaching out to grab on to Phox’s arm.

Up ahead, an ominous darkness swallowed the horizon, blotting out the light of Thermax’s many suns. A chill crept up my spine as Phox and I stared up in slack-jawed awe at the encroaching stormfront. Portions of it lit up with webs of purple lightning, sizzling and popping all through the angry swirling mass. Beneath it, none of the features or landscape could be seen through the wall of swirling dust and salt churned up by the toiling winds.

Phox narrowed his eyes, glancing down at the holographic display. “Contact in five minutes.”

I gulped and squeezed his arm harder. He shook off my grip and I braced myself for defiant scolding. Now wasn’t the time to act like a scared little kid or expect him to—

He seized my hand in his, lacing big fingers through mine and gripping tightly.

My pulse boomed in my ears.

Behind us, Sienne’s ship still hung in close, probably wondering what the actual hell we were doing flying into the storm like this. I had to wonder the same thing. It’d sounded like a good idea at the time. Why did Phox keep going along with all my