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“Yeah, dude,” Devil’s voice replied. “Come on in. We got that Bailey guy and…”
“Change of plans. We’re coming in hot.”
“How hot?”
“Real hot.”
“Don’t worry, my dude. I got this.”
Pony put away his phone and checked the magazine on his pistol.
“What’d he say?” Piper asked.
“He said he’s got this.”
“Ah, shit.”
“He’ll come through,” Pony said, and after catching another look from Piper added, “I’m almost sure.”
He leaned back out the window once more, shooting back at their pursuers, until one of the incoming machine-gun rounds clanged once again against the body of the Charger. Pony swore in either pain or surprise and pulled back into the car.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Round pinged off the doorjamb in front of me. Caught some shrapnel in my off hand.”
“Bad?”
“It’s a scratch. But I’m out of ammo.”
“Use mine.”
“I did use yours. That’s out, too.”
“Hang on,” she said, reaching down with one hand to her ankle. “Here.”
Her hand came back up with her cut-down ankle gun. She handed it to Pony, who took it like he might take a Barbie doll he was being asked to play with.
Pony looked over the short, stubby little ankle gun and said, “Are you kidding with this little thing?”
Piper couldn’t help herself. “It’s not the size of the gun, Pony. It’s how you use it.”
“Very funny.”
Pony gave the little ankle gun one more look, then shrugged and leaned out the window once again. One, two, three shots, and behind them, one of the pursuing vehicles suddenly skidded to the right, ran off the road, and smashed into a tree, exploding in a brilliant fireball that lit up the road and the night sky.
Pony looked down at her little gun in amazement. After trading a look with Piper, he said, “I should probably get one of these.”
The killers pursuing them recovered quickly from the sudden loss of one of their vehicles. At first, they’d had to slow down to avoid getting hit by the skidding car, allowing Piper and Pony to pull some distance away, but the respite was only momentary. Already, their headlights were back in pursuit, pulling closer, and brief staccatos of machine gun fire once again began to throw angry hornets through the air around the Charger.
A pair of bullets hit the back window of the Charger, smashing spiderweb patterns into the glass. One of them passed right between Piper and Pony, punching a hole in the front windshield before flying off into the night. The other crashed into the dashboard, splintering one of the air vents in a spray of plastic pieces.
Piper cringed involuntarily at the near hit and swore, getting herself back under control quickly to keep them moving fast and hard along the curving back road. The faster they went, the more they hugged those winding curves, the harder they would be to hit.
Pony pulled himself back in from the open window. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Close one. But I’m okay. Are we close to wherever it is we’re going?”
“Yes.”
