The large road had forked into four smaller ones that continued side by side. They passed under a great bridge. Alana could swear she saw something move on top of it. She considered whether to tap the biker on the shoulder and shout to him –the bike in front of Kirwyn exploded. Shrapnel and pressure pushed the centre bike into the rightmost, and they crashed into one another – crushing one rider under wheel, and sending the other flying.
The three remaining riders skidded off the road. Gunfire followed them. They flew over a ditch, then up a small hill. The descent dizzied their innards. The gunfire stopped. They turned off their lights. They sped across an open field, and saw houses ahead of them. The centre bike drove to prominence, and the rider signalled forward with his tail lights.
Alana’s bike wobbled a little, and her arms felt damp. As they slowed down she heard her Cavalier’s breathing – it was strained and weak. The bikes slid into the old dead town, resting at a car park. Alana’s Cavalier parked, and subsequently slumped over and collapsed on the tarmac. His comrades rushed to him. Alana’s eyes had adjusted to the light, her arms were soaked in blood.
The dying Cavalier moaned as his brothers-in-arms examined the wound. They looked at each other blankly, in shock. Alana ran to a nearby brick wall – she vaulted up this, then leapt onto the roof of an old house, tiles slipping away and shattering on the ground as she ran to the peak. She then lay, eye glued to her scope, scanning the hill for movement.
Kirwyn knelt beside the dying Cavalier and wrapped linen around his wound. The two remaining Cavaliers and Loma stood apart, speaking low.
“If we don’t take him to a medic soon he’s dead. Within the hour,” said the younger Cavalier.
“Ludoc’s not far from here. There must be a doctor there,” offered the elder.
Loma took off her helmet “Who attacked us?” she said, agitated.
“Probably Yellowjackets,” said the younger.
The elder called up to Alana: “Are they following us?”
Alana frowned. “I can’t tell.”
“If they were Yellowjackets you’d be able to tell. And they would follow us.”
“What are we going to do?” asked the younger, gesturing to the dying Cavalier. Kirwyn prayed over him.
The elder breathed, looked across blankly, still in shock. His Hetman had died. He was in charge now.
“You take Yuki to Ludoc. When he’s stitched up, ride back to my father and tell him what happened.”
The younger nodded and lifted up his dying friend. “What about you Sab?” – As they spoke he escorted the injured man to his seat, then sat in front of him.
“I’ll shadow these three to Lundun. I’ll make sure we get our end of the bargain. Though with three dead it seems a fucking sour deal to me – and no mistake.”
The younger Cavalier, nodded, furrowed his brow, tightened his lips. “Ride well brother,” he said, as his passenger wrapped a weak arm over his shoulder.
“Ride well,” said the elder. “Stay alive Yuki. That’s an order.” The dying Cavalier saluted sarcastically, still gripping on with his other hand. The elder smiled. Then his two comrades disappeared, their bike screeching into the darkness.
“How’s it looking up there?” cried Loma.
“Can’t see anything. Could do with some nightvision.”
Loma sealed on her helmet, then mounted the wall, she crawled up the tiled roof on all fours like a dog, slipping several times, and cursing. Kirwyn squatted and poured precious water over his hands, cleaning off the blood.
“Thank you for helping him,” said the Cavalier
“No worries,” said Kirwyn. “Who attacked us?”
“I don’t know. We’re at war with the Yellowjackets – but I don’t think it was them. They are cowardly pieces of shit. But even then, I don’t see them laying down landmines. I didn’t hear any bikes, I don’t think it was any of the gangs. Whoever it is, they’re in for a rude fucking awakening if they think they can sabotage our road, kill our men and live to tell the fucking tale.”
Kirwyn frowned and shrugged his shoulders. They made eye contact. “I’m Kirwyn,” he said.
“Saburo,” said the Cavalier and extended a gloved hand which Kirwyn shook. Saburo was taller than Kirwyn, though much leaner. He seemed slightly younger than Kirwyn. His skin was tan, his hair jet black. He wore a faded pink jacket, with a white shirt, black boots, black jeans. He wore driving gloves and glasses when he rode. Like the rest of the Cavaliers, he wore no helmet, though he had rubber armour sewn into the elbows and knees of his clothes. He was handsome, yet Kirwyn thought there was something cruel and foreboding in his expression at times, though he guessed that might just be grief.
Alana and Loma slid down off the roof, Alana landed with perfect balance. Loma did not.
“We can’t see anyone,” said Alana. “They didn’t want to chase – or they couldn’t.”
“We should get going,” said Loma “We can reach Lundun in an hour and a half.”
“It wouldn’t be an hour and a half,” said Saburo “We can’t go back to the highway without reinforcements. I’m not driving over any more fucking mines. If we rode on the by-lanes or over countryside we would have to go much slower. Riding in the dark’s one thing on the highway, it’s another out in the sticks.”
“It’s bad luck to travel by night,” offered Kirwyn.
Alana spoke up – “How long would it take off the highway – to get to Lundun?”
“In the dark?” Saburo considered this. “8 hours, maybe 9.”
“We might as well find somewhere to rest,” said Alana, “try the highway in the morning maybe.”
“No. We’ll ride now, through the countryside. I don’t want to be waiting around. I’m the one paying you people, I decide.”
Saburo folded his arms. “Bikes are loud. Lundun’s dangerous, especially at night. We’ve lost our best men. I’m with the Ranger. Find somewhere safe and wait for the daylight.”
“Also—” said Kirwyn. “You’re not paying me.”
Loma looked at Kirwyn with barely contained contempt. She looked to the side, worried. “What’s that noise?”
“I don’t hear anything,” said Saburo reaching for a smoke.
“No I hear it too,” said Alana. She climbed up the house a second time, rifle in hand and looked down her scope. “It’s a copter,” she called out.
Saburo looked to Loma – “What do we do, Boss?”
Loma shook her head. “Hide the bikes,” she said, sighing.
The copter was a great beast of a machine, it seemed far too wide and dense to be able to fly. Two meaty propellers on its front and back created an obnoxiously loud noise, like mechanical thunder. It floated over the little town, dropping a spotlight over places of interest. The light passed over the window of their safehouse, illuminating the features of the four surviving members of the Lundun expedition, the first joint venture between the city of Avalon, and the gang that called themselves the Cavaliers. The copter buzzed off, its light following the road to the next town.
Saburo pulled a curtain open, slightly, and peered out the window. “I don’t know… what the hell is going on.”
Loma cleared her throat, ignoring him. “We’re leaving now. We’ll ride until we find somewhere safe. Stay off the main roads. I’ll lead, you follow.”
She left the room. Alana and Kirwyn looked at each other, Alana blinked and nodded – they got up and followed. Saburo looked out the window a little while longer, till he heard an engine revving. He swished the curtain shut.