The Lofties (The Echelon Book 2) by Ramona Finn (ebook reader play store .TXT) 📗

noise and grit. The fight had started without me. Jay and Cara’s backup had arrived, but they had company. A truck roared by, tires screeching, its flatbed packed with Outsiders. A wave of grass and dirt crashed over me, and I dove behind a rock.

I crouched there, eyes stinging, and the truck swung by again. It bore down on the Decemites like a game of chicken. I counted five of them now, all crouched behind their buggy. One of them held his ground, strafing the windshield till the last possible moment. He dove under the truck as it closed in on him, hands up to shield his head. The other four scattered and reformed to the rear. They loosed a volley of bolts, and a curl of rubber screamed past my ear. The truck spun wide, rear tire flapping.

A voice rose, indistinct, as I belly-crawled from my hiding place. I circled behind it, through a curtain of dust, the yellow grass prickling my legs. I could hear them, the Decemites, fixing their bayonets to their blasters. They were moving into position, and I moved with them, elbows in the dirt.

“The fugitives. You’re sure—”

“They ran,” said Jay. “They’re gone.”

“’Cause I don’t need any surprises. No—”

A gunshot rang out, old-fashioned lead. One of the Decemites yelped in pain. I reached the creek bed and took cover, easing down the bank. I could see the Outsiders crouched behind their damaged truck. Two of them had blasters. The rest, I couldn’t tell. One of them jumped on the flatbed and flung something across the plain, something black and pear-shaped that shattered as it flew. Yellow fog caught on the breeze, and the Decemites coughed and spluttered. I tore a strip off my sleeve and tied it on like a mask. The gas got me anyway, through my eyes, down my nose, setting my whole face on fire. One of the Decemites dropped down, and he turned to the rest.

“Breathe through it,” he said. “Don’t—”

“My eyes.”

I ground my teeth through the burning and scrambled back up the bank. Lead shot whizzed past me, covering me or aiming for me, I couldn’t tell. I streaked past the Decemites, headed straight for their buggy.

“That’s her! Get her!”

I turned and fired, loosing a flurry of blaster bolts over the Decemites’ heads. Jay and Cara ducked down. Their backup stormed after me, red-eyed, firing blind. I ran faster, eyes streaming, breath acid in my lungs. Something stung my ankle, and my next step felt wet. I didn’t look down. I kept my eyes on the buggy, on the keys in the ignition. On the stupid smiley keychain, still swinging on its hook.

“Don’t shoot! She’s not—”

I flung myself into the driver’s seat, twisted the key in the ignition. The engine roared and sputtered. I heard shouts, running footsteps, and I tramped on the pedal. Nothing happened—wrong one—and I jammed both feet home. Gears ground and shrieked, howling in my head. I let go of the brake, and my head bounced off the seat. I was flying, engine roaring, headed straight for the mountains. Black filled my vision, sheer stone rising to greet me. I screamed, grabbed the steering wheel, and spun with all my might. I threw my whole body into it, shoulder to the seat. Sand and clumps of grass flew, and I ground my eyes shut. I felt my wheels leave the ground on one side, heard metal grate on stone. Grit stung my leg as the driver’s door tore loose, and then I was clear, speeding back toward the creek bed.

I screamed again, raw with triumph. The Decemites were running, and I sped after them. Two of them dove over the bank, and I let them go. I swerved for the others, and they scattered. Lead whistled through the air, and one of the Decemites dropped from view. I hit another, sent him flying, and the last one dove under me, firing up through the floorboards. He missed me, and I whooped, swinging around for another pass.

“—engine. Get her engine!” One of the Decemites was kneeling, drawing a bead on my buggy. I aimed for him, accelerating, hair whipping about my face. In that moment, he was nobody, just an obstacle in my path. Just the enemy, and I’d get him. I’d flatten him, and—

His head blew apart, plasma flashing, blackening his shirt. He burned for a moment, then my tires bounced over his body. I slammed on the brakes and my chest hurtled into the wheel, the breath fleeing my body in one agonized cough. I slid out of the buggy, and my head struck the ground. I lay there, mouth gaping, the sun scorching my eyes. I rolled away from it, blinking, and curled in on myself. It hurt—hurt all over—and what had I done?

“Myla? That you?”

I lifted my head, sluggish—I still couldn’t catch my breath. My ribs had turned to fire, a burning band around my chest.

“Hey. You okay? I didn’t hit you, did I?”

I rolled over with an effort. Flopped flat on my back. My eyes swam, and I rubbed them. I could still taste that gas, like mustard and death.

“You three get after them,” came another voice. “See them safe back to Echelon.” My heart leaped and fluttered, and I forced myself up on one elbow.

“Ben? Is that—?”

“Myla.” He bent over me, mask askew, and tore the cloth off my face. “You’re okay. Try to breathe.”

I sucked in one whistling breath, then another. I clutched at him, wanting to feel him, to feel he was real. He pulled me into his arms and I held on tight, gasping into his neck. “How did you find us?”

“We heard Lock on the radio. Traced the signal back here.” Ben pulled back, peering past me. “Where is he? Did he—?”

“He’s alive. In the caves.” I saw the Decemites were fleeing, four of them scattered across the plain. My hand went to my head, and I shuddered. I tried to call his face to mind, the