A single line of antique lights dimly lit the old tunnel. The dark arching limestone roof and the bend in the middle made the tunnels seem claustrophobic despite their fifteen-foot clearance. Oilcan rarely used the tunnels. He couldn’t remember exactly how long they were. He was fairly sure that the tunnels were short. The upcoming exit definitely was onto a T-shaped intersection. Making a ninety-degree turn at his speed could be deadly, especially to the unsecured warriors on the back.
Oilcan glanced in the side mirrors. All the remaining hoverbikes were just entering the tunnel. He’d worried slightly that they would split up, using the outbound tunnel instead of entering the close quarters of the inbound tunnel. Apparently they weren’t thinking that far ahead.
He slowed as much as he dared, downshifting to fifth gear. “We’re going to turn shortly! Hard left!”
Rebecca surprised him by suddenly leaning across him to secure his seat belt.
“Stop at the end of the tunnel,” Thorne said.
“What?” Oilcan said as Thorne’s rifle cracked again, echoing loudly in the stone tunnel. Another hoverbike disintegrated with a horrifying noise as its wounded or dead rider lost control.
“She said stop at the end of the tunnel!” Rebecca said while putting on her own seat belt.
What was Thorne planning? Certainly the tunnel took away the hoverbikes’ maneuverability but they were still moving at close to seventy miles per hour. Oilcan slowed more, downshifting to fourth. If he was making a full stop, he had to slow even more. He only had at maximum forty feet of road at the end of the tunnel before he hit a literal wall.
The hoverbikes closed fast even as he neared the end of the tunnel.
He glanced into his rearview mirror to check on the sekasha. The two warriors leapt from the back, shields gleaming, swords drawn. The hoverbikes were roaring down on them. The Jaguar, however, was nowhere to be seen.
“Shit!” Oilcan hissed. He stomped down on the brakes. The sports car had taken the outbound tunnel instead of following directly behind them. The wheels squealed as the big truck slid forward. He fought to control the slide, downshifting so the engine wouldn’t stall. He couldn’t let the truck turn too soon. The bed alone was twenty-six feet long and the tunnel was only twenty-two feet wide. If he lost control, he’d wedge the truck sideways in the narrow passage. Once he was clear of the tunnel, though, he needed to turn to face the sports car that was trying to outmaneuver him by taking the outbound tube.
The oni in the car had guns.
Oilcan had a powerful heavy truck and a ram-prow front bumper.
As the flatbed’s cab slid past the tunnel opening, he could hear the roar of the oncoming Jaguar. The outbound tube was a mere six feet from him. A narrow traffic island separated the two lanes. Oilcan checked his mirrors. His tail wasn’t clear yet. He let the truck continue to slide forward, the air thick with black smoke from his tires. The snarl of the Jaguar grew louder. Not clear yet. He saw the running lights of the oncoming car reflected in the white tile walls.
Clear!
He floored the accelerator. The big truck leapt forward just as the Jaguar came roaring out of the tunnel. The driver wasn’t familiar with the road; he tried a panic stop as he realized that there was a building directly ahead of him, in less than forty feet. The Jaguar started to swing right, aiming for the driveway beside the building. The flatbed jumped the curb, and plowed into the Jaguar square in the passenger door. His seat belt bit deep into Oilcan’s chest as the impact checked their speed. He kept the accelerator nailed to the floor.
The Jaguar tried to pull away but Oilcan wrenched the flatbed’s steering wheel, turning with the Jaguar as he shoved it across the road. He slammed it through a low railing and into the retaining wall beyond. Its aluminum body crumpled like a beer can. Its horn went off in an unending death wail.
Behind him, bits and pieces of hoverbikes rained out of the inbound tunnel. There was no sign of the riders.
Oilcan put the flatbed into reverse and backed away from the crumpled Jaguar.
“You going to hit it again?” Rebecca was holding a pistol ready.
“It’s not going to be following us.” Oilcan didn’t want to think of its trapped and probably dead occupants. “That’s all that matters.”
Thorne and Moon Dog came running out of the tunnel and leapt onto the flatbed.
“Go!” Thorne said.
Oilcan turned and headed for Gryffin Doors, praying that his kids had arrived there safely.
21: KNICKKNACK PADDYWHACK GIVE A DOG A BONE
Tommy started cautiously around the old racetrack on Neville. He’d studied it closely while building his own course but it had been years since he had taken its insane jumps and sharp, unexpected turns. Everything was in better shape than he expected. The banks were clear of weeds and the jumps had been recently reinforced.
Someone had to be using it for practice. Was it workers from the shipyard? If they were rabid hoverbike fans, they would recognize Tommy. They would know that he kept a stable of prostitutes who worked Liberty Avenue.
The track went under the interstate and split. The main branch looped back but a small section followed an older go-kart track through the maze of side streets. On the turn’s inside wall, someone had painted a black crow on a bloodred field.
Tommy hugged the inside curve to get a better look at it. It was definitely Team Providence’s tag. They must have fixed up the old course in order to secretly train their rider. It meant that the off-worlders at the shipyard probably wouldn’t recognize Tommy.
As he came looping back, he saw Gaddy had faked a breakdown just before the shipyard’s driveway. He pulled to a stop beside her, careful to place an electric pole between him and the armed guards inside the fence.
“I hit a ley line!” Gaddy called to Tommy, louder than necessary. “It made my spell chain slip. I’m just adjusting it.”
Like that would ever happen, but it sounded feasible to anyone who didn’t know real bike mechanics. The guards didn’t seem to be paying much attention. They were gathering in groups, pointing toward the tall windowless building and shaking their heads.
Tommy scanned the shipyard looking for ways into the compound and signs of the kidnapped Undefended. Most of the vehicles in the parking lot had some version of the crowned lion logo on them. Some had the word “Midas” under the logo or “Midas Exploration,” while others had the German word Erobern. It was hard to tell if there were multiple companies represented or just one with a branding problem. The unmarked van that the attackers had used at Toad Hall sat near the gate. In the mud, just behind the back tire, was a black flannel stuffed cat. It looked like a typical Mokoto handmade speciaclass="underline" big derpy eyes, a green heart stitched onto its flank, and a body filled with lavender that Tommy could smell from the street.
Knickknack definitely had been brought to the shipyard.
“You good?” he asked Gaddy.
“Yeah, I’m good.” She started her bike back up.
They headed back toward the cargo truck.
Tommy had very limited experience with average human teenage girls. His cousins didn’t qualify because their half-oni status made their lives anything but normal.
Makoto had said, “Something nasty happened to Red on Earth. She kept walls up around her. Massive stone fortress walls. Nobody got in.”
The EIA intern, Aiofe, kept a constant flow of information going between her and the elves. So far Tommy had learned indirectly most of her life story including the fact she had three older sisters, went to an all-girls school in Ireland, and was far from comfortable with the male side of any species.