Last Of The Wild Ones Read online

  "Enough."

  "Why don't you wait?"

  Murdock chuckled. "Do you really think any of those clunkers could touch something like the Angel? I won't be long."

  They moved toward the bend and turned. The last of the sunlight was striking the highest points of the eastern rim overhead.

  Nothing.

  "Picking anything up?" he asked.

  "No. Do you want a light?"

  .. " No.

  Farther to the east the sounds of firing were diminishing. The Angel slowed as they neared a wide slice of darkness to the left.

  "This ravine may go through. Do we turn here or continue on?"

  "Can you detect anything within it?"

  "No."

  "Then keep going."

  His hand still upon the grip, Murdock moved the big gun slightly with each turn that they took, covering the most likely areas of opposition rather than the point directly ahead.

  "This is no good," he finally announced. "I've got to have a light. Give me the overhead spot."

  Instantly the prospect before him was brightly illuminated: dark rocks, orange stands of stone, striped walls almost a coral seascape through waves of settling dust.

  "I think somebody's been by here more recently than those we burned."

  "Don't tired people sometimes see things that are not really there?"

  Murdock sighed.

  "Yes, and I am tired. That may be it. Take the next bend anyway."

  They continued on, making the turn.

  Murdock swiveled the weapon and triggered it, blasting rock and clay at the corner of the next turning.

  "There!" he cried. "You must have picked that up!"

  "No. I detected nothing."

  "I can't be cracking up at this point! I saw it! Check your sensors. Something must be off." ,

  "Negative. All detection systems report in good order."

  Murdock slammed his fist against the dash.

  "Keep going. Something's there."

  The ground was churned before them. There were too many tracks to tell a simple tale.

  "Slowly now," he said as they approached the next bend. "Could one of them have some kind of equipment or something to block you. I wonder. Or am I really seeing ghosts? I don't see how-"

  "Gully to the left. Another to the right."

  "Slower! Run the spotlight up them as we pass."

  They moved by the first one, and Murdock turned the weapon to follow the light. There were two side passages going off the ravine before it turned.

  "Could be something up there," he mused. "No way of telling without going in. Let's take a look at the next one."

  They rolled on. The light turned again, and so did the gun. The second opening appeared to be too narrow to accommodate a car. It ran straight back without branching, and there was nothing unusual in sight anywhere within it.

  Murdock sighed again.

  "I don't know," he said, "but the end is just around the next bend -a big box of a canyon. Go straight on in. And be ready for evasive action."

  The radio crackled.

  "You all right?" came a voice from the ambush squad.

  "Still checking," he said. "Nothing so far. Just a little more to see."

  He broke it off.

  "You didn't mention-"

  "I know. Be ready to move very fast."

  They entered the canyon, sweeping it with the light. It was an oval-shaped place, its major axis perhaps a hundred meters in length. Several large rocks lay near its center. There were a number of dark openings about its periphery. The talus lay heavy at the foot of the walls.

  "Go right. We'll circle it. Those rocks and the openings are the places to watch."

  They were about a quarter of the way around when he heard the high, singing sound of another engine revving. Murdock turned his head and looked fifteen years into he past.

  A low, red Swinger sedan had entered the canyon and was turning in his direction.

  "Run!" he said. "She's armed! Get the rocks between us!"

  "Who? Where?"

  Murdock snapped the control switch to manual, seized the wheel, and stepped on the gas. The Angel leaped ahead, turning, as fifty-caliber machine guns blazed beneath the darkened headlights of the other vehicle.

  "Now do you see it?" he asked as the rear window was starred and he felt the thudding impact of hits somewhere toward the back of the vehicle.

  "Not entirely. There is some sort of screen, but I can estimate based on that. Give me back the controls."

  "No. Estimates aren't good enough with her," Murdock replied, turning sharply to place the rocks between himself and the other.

  The red car came fast, however, though it had stopped firing as he entered the turn.

  The radio crackled. Then a voice he had thought he would never hear again came over it: "That's you, isn't it, Sam? I heard you back there. And that's the sort of car the Arch engineer of Geeyem would have built you for something like this-tough and smart and fast." The voice was low, feminine, deadly. "He would not have anticipated this encounter, however. I can jam almost all the sensors without its knowing it."

  "Jenny ..." he said as he held the pedal to the floor and continued the turn.

  "Never thought you'd see me again, did you?"

  "I've always wondered. Ever since the day you disappeared. But it's been so long."

  "And you've spent the entire time hunting us. You had your revenge that day, but you kept right on-destroying."

  "Considering the alternative, I had no choice."

  He passed his starting point and commenced a second lap, realizing as he began to draw away that she must no longer be as finely tuned as when he had known her earlier. Unless- '

  An explosion occurred some distance ahead of him. He was pelted with gravel, and he swerved to avoid the fresh crater before him.

  "Still have some of those grenades left," he said. "Hard to estimate when to drop them, though, isn't it?"

  They were on opposite sides of the rocks now. There was no way she could get a clear shot at him with her guns. Nor he at her, with the cannon.

  "I'm in no hurry, Sam."

  "What is it?" he heard the Angel ask.

  "It speaks!" she cried. "Finally! Do you want to tell him, Sam? Or should I?"

  "I'd a feeling it was her, back there," Murdock began, "and I'd long had a feeling that we would meet again. Jenny was the first killer car I had built to hunt the wild ones."

  "And the best," she added.

  "But she went wild herself," he finished.

  "How's about you trying it, Whitey?" she said. "Leak carbon monoxide into the air vents. He'll still look live enough to get you out of here. You answer any calls that come in. Tell them he's resting. Tell them you didn't find anything. Slip away later and come back here. I'll wait, I'll show you the ropes."

  "Cut it out, Jenny," Murdock said, circling again, beginning to gain on her. "I'll have you in my sights in a minute. We haven't that much time to talk."

  "And nothing, really, to talk about," she responded.

  "How about this? You were the best car I ever had. Surrender. Fire off your ammo. Drop the grenades. Come back with me. I don't want to blast you."

  "Just a quick lobotomy, eh?"

  Another explosion occurred, this one behind him. He continued to gain on her.

  "It's that virus program," he said. "Jenny, you're the last-the last wild one. You've nothing to gain."

  "Or to lose," she responded quietly.

  The next explosion was almost beside him. The Angel rocked but did not slow. Gripping the wheel with one hand, Murdock reached out and took hold of the pistol grip.

  "She's stopped jamming my sensors," the Angel announced.

  "Maybe she's burned out that system," Murdock said, turning the gun.

  He sped around the rocks, avoiding the new craters, the light beam bouncing, sweeping, casting the high, craggy walls into a rapid succession of dreamlike images, slowly closing the distance betw
een himself and Jenny. Another grenade went off behind him. Finally the moment of a clear shot emerged from the risen dust. He squeezed the trigger.

  The beam fell wide, scoring the canyon side, producing a minor rockslide.

  "That was a warning," he said. "Drop the grenades. Discharge the guns. Come back with me. It's your last chance."

  "Only one of us will be going away from here, Sam," she answered.

  He swung the gun and fired again as he swept along anther turn, but a pothole he struck threw the beam high, fusing a section of sandy slope.

  "A useful piece, that," she commented. "Too bad you didn't give me one."

  "They came later."

  "It is unfortunate that you cannot trust your vehicle and must rely upon your own driving skills. Your car would not have missed that last shot."

  "Maybe," Murdock said, skidding through another turn.

  Suddenly two more grenades exploded between them, and rocks rattled against the Angel. Both windows on the right side were fractured. He skidded sideways, his vision obscured by the flash and the airborne matter.

  Both hands on the wheel now, he fought for control, braking hard. Passing through the screen of detritus, slowing and turning, he caught sight of Jenny racing full bore toward the pass that led out of the canyon.

  He stepped on the gas again and followed after. She passed through and was gone before he could reach for the weapon.

  "Return to automatic, and you will be free for the fighting," the Angel said.

  "Can't do that," Murdock replied, racing toward the pass. "She could jam you again then at any time-and get us both."

  "Is that the only reason?"

  "Yes, the risk."

  The red car was not in sight when he came through into the pass.

  "Well?" he said. "What do your sensors read?"

  "She entered the gully on the right. There is a heat trail."

  Murdock continued to slow as he moved in that direction.

  "That must be where she was hiding when we came by," he said. "It could be some kind of trap."

  "Perhaps you had better call for the others, cover the entrance, and wait."

  "No!"

  Murdock turned his wheel and sent his light along the passageway. She was nowhere in sight, but there were sideways. He continued to creep forward, entering. His right hand was again on the pistol grip.

  He passed these side openings, each of them large enough to hide a car, all of them empty.

  He followed a bend, bearing him to the right. Before he had moved an entire car length along it, a burst of gunfire from the left, ahead, caused him to slam on the brakes and turn the cannon. But an engine roared to life before he could take aim, and a red streak crossed his path to vanish up another sideway. He hit the gas again and followed.

  Jenny was out of sight, but he could hear the sound of her somewhere ahead. The way widened as he advanced. Finally it forked at a large stand of stone, one arm continuing past it, the other bearing off sharply to the left. He slowed, taking time to consider the alternatives.

  "Where's the heat trail go?" he asked.

  "Both ways. I don't understand."

  Then the red car came swinging into sight from the left, guns firing. The Angel shook as they were hit. Murdock triggered the laser, but she swept past him, turning and speeding off to the right.

  "She circled it before we arrived, to confuse your sensors, to slow us.

  "It worked, too," he added, moving ahead again. "She's too damned smart."

  "We can still go back."

  Murdock did not reply.

  Twice more Jenny lay in wait, fired short bursts, evaded the singeing beam, and disappeared. An intermittent knocking sound began beneath the hood as they moved, and one telltale on the dash indicated signs of overheating.

  "It is not serious," the Angel stated. "I can control it."

  "Let me know if there is any change."

  "Yes."

  Following the heat trail, they bore steadily to the left, racing down a widening sand slope past castles, minarets, and cathedrals of stone, dark or pale, striped and spotted with mica like the first raindrops of a midsummer's storm. They hit the bottom, slid sideways, and came to a stop, wheels spinning.

  He threw the light around rapidly, causing grotesque shadows to jerk like marionettes in a ring dance about them.

  "It's a wash. Lots of loose sand. But I don't see Jenny."

  Murdock ground the gears, rocking the vehicle, but they did not come free.

  "Give me control," said the Angel. "I've a program for this."

  Murdock threw the switch. At once a fresh series of rocking movements began. This continued for a full minute. Then the heat telltale began to flicker again.

  "So much for the program. Looks as if I'm going to have to get out and push," Murdock said.

  "No. Call for help. Stay put. We can hold her off with the cannon if she returns."

  "I can get back inside pretty quick. We've got to get moving again."

  As he reached for the door, he heard the lock click.

  "Release it," he said. "I'll just shut you off, go out, and turn you on again from there. You're wasting time."

  "I think you are making a mistake."

  "Then let's hurry and make it a short one."

  "All right. Leave the door open." There followed another click. "I will feel the pressure when you begin pushing. I will probably throw a lot of sand on you."

  "I've got a scarf."

  Murdock climbed out and limped toward the rear of the vehicle. He wound his scarf up around his mouth and nose. Leaning forward, he placed his hands upon the car and began to push. The engine roared and the wheels spun as he threw his weight against it.

  Then, from the corner of his eye, to the right, he detected a movement. He turned his head only slightly and continued pushing the Angel of Death.

  Jenny was there. She had crept up slowly into a shadowy place beneath a ledge, turning, facing him, her guns directly upon him. She must have circled. Now she was halted.

  It seemed useless to try running. She could open up upon him anytime that she chose.

  He leaned back, resting for a moment, pulling himself together. Then he moved to his left, leaned forward, began pushing again. For some reason she was waiting. He could not determine why, but he sidled to the left. He moved his left hand, then his right. He shifted his weight, moved his feet again, fighting a powerful impulse to look in her direction once again. He was near the left taillight. Now there might be a chance. Two quick steps would place the body of the Angel between them. Then he could rush forward and dive back in. But why wasn't she firing?

  No matter. He had to try. He eased up again. The feigned rest that followed was the most difficult spell of the whole thing.

  Then he leaned forward once more, reached out as if to lay his hands upon the vehicle once again, and slipped by it, moving as quickly as he could toward the open door, and then through it, and inside. Nothing happened the entire time he was in transit, but the moment the car door slammed a burst of gunfire occurred beneath the ledge, and the Angel began to shudder and then to rock.

  "There!" came the voice of the Angel as the gun swung to the right and a beam lanced outward and upward from it.

  It bobbed. It rode high. It fell upon the cliff face, moving.

  Murdock turned in time to see a portion of that surface slide downward, first with a whisper, then with a roar. The shooting ceased before the wall came down upon the red vehicle.

  Above the sound of the crash, a familiar voice came through the radio: "Damn you, Sam! You should have stayed in the car!" she said.

  Then the radio went silent. Her form was completely covered by the rock fall.

  "Must have blocked my sensors again and sneaked up," the Angel was saying. "You are lucky that you saw her just when you did."

  "Yes," Murdock replied.

  "Let me try rocking us loose now," the Angel said a little later. "We made some headway while you were pu
shing."

  The breakaway sequence began again. Murdock looked up at the stars for the first time that evening-cold and brilliant and so very distant. He kept on staring as the Angel pulled them free. He barely glanced at her stony tomb as they turned and moved past it.

  When they had threaded their way back and out through the ravine, the radio came to life again: "Murdock! Murdock! You okay? We've been trying to reach you and-"

  "Yes," he said softly.

  "We heard more explosions. Was that you?"

  "Yes. Just shooting at a ghost," he said. "I'm coming back now."

  "It's over," the other told him. "We got them all."

  "Good," he said, breaking the connection.

  "Why didn't you tell him about the red one?" the Angel asked.

  "Shut up and keep driving."

  He watched the canyon walls slip by, bright strata and dull ones. It was night, sky cold, sky wide, sky deep, and the black wind came out of the north, closing wind. They headed into it. Spinning through the dream of time and dust, past the wreckage, they went to the place where the others waited. It was night, and a black wind came out of the north.

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  Document creation date: 12.06.2008

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