North of Pueblo, Colorado

  They were fifteen miles from the turnoff to the charging station outside North Pueblo when the lead official sent a message to all of them on the private channel.

  Pedestrians with heavy weapons seen in the vicinity of the charging station. Be careful getting out of your cars.

  "Damn. What do you want to do?" Dillon hit a few buttons on the map screen, trying to bring up an overhead view of the area around the charging station.

  "The flamethrower doesn't have the range to engage them effectively. You're going to have to pull in so we can get maximum coverage from the front and rear weapons. And you'll have to shoot while I'm outside."

  "No, I'll go outside. You shoot. That's your job, and I'd rather have you covering me than the other way around."

  "I can do it," she said forcefully. "I'm not afraid of them shooting at me."

  "It's not that. One, it's quicker and easier for me to get out. Two, like I said, you're the gunner. You shoot better than I do, so you're more likely to take them out than I am. That's safer overall."

  Despite her grumbling, she didn't argue further with his logic. They pulled off I-25 and onto Eagleridge Boulevard, which would take them straight to the charging station. The streets were eerily deserted, even though there were plenty of businesses along the way.

  "You get the feeling they know something we don't?" said Jesse over the radio.

  ***

  Rebekah told the pilot fly ahead of the cars to get a look at the charging station and the area around it. She saw the same warning the racers were given, and a fight in an urban area made it harder to get good camera angles without knowing who was where. She hoped she could pick out the pedestrians and find out which direction they were coming from. Maybe even get an ID on them.

  They reached the charging station, which turned out to be nothing more than a public facility with only a waist-high wall around to prevent curb jumpers. There were buildings on most sides, and the northwest corner opened into a field. There, they could see camouflaged individuals low crawling their way through the grass and dirt. Each carried some kind of weapon; assault rifles primarily, although there were a few rocket launchers.

  Positioning her camera drones for the best angles, she worked quickly to set up her coverage shots while the pilot tracked the locations of the racers. When she was satisfied with the setup, Rebekah signaled the station she needed a live feed. Just as the cars arrived at the station, the light came on, signaling she would be live in a few seconds.

  ***

  The sign on the curb in front of the charging station noted that it was closed for a special event. There were five rows of dual chargers, and as one of the last ones to pull in, Dillon and Kayla were forced to take the spots that were the most exposed to the surroundings. He also noticed that none of the others had gotten out yet to hook up. Great. We get to be the lab rats. On the other hand, we'll be charged up first.

  He took advantage of unrestricted access to the open row, pulling in at an angle, leaving the rear of the car facing out. Even though it took the brunt of the previous battle, there was only minor damage to the armor, and Kayla could use either the twin machine guns or the Javelin cannon.

  He unlocked his four-point harness, unhooked from the intercom and paused, hand on the door latch. "Ready," he called.

  Kayla eyed the surroundings through the turret gunsight and said, just a little too loudly, "Clear!"

  Popping the door open, he slid out and down, keeping the bulk of the car between him and the street. Nothing happened after a few seconds, so he duckwalked over to the cable and raised himself up to pull it free from the machine. The display lit up, indicating the machine was ready to charge.

  Immediately, he both felt and heard something impact the hood of the car. Fragments of the bullet and pieces of armor spalled around him, and he felt several impacts on his arm and shoulder. "Dammit," he yelled, letting go of the cable and dropping back down behind the car.

  "Dillon, are you okay?" Kayla spun the turret, looking for the shooter.

  He felt around his arm and shoulder. He didn't find any penetrations, so he called back, "I'm good!"

  "I don't have a shot. We're facing the wrong way."

  Aware of movement at the other cars, he kept low and waited. Several rounds impacted in and around the stations behind him. He leapt forward and grabbed the charger cable. Letting his weight pull him back under cover, he dragged the cable with him over to the charging port. With his head down, he raised his hands over his head, trying to feel his way to the port.

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  Two incoming rounds hit their charging station, and it erupted in a cascading shower of sparks. Dillon dropped the cable and put his hands over the back of his neck. The bright lights faded and the display went dark.

  A voice called out over a loudspeaker, "Hey, assholes! That's my equipment! You're gonna pay for that!" A slot opened in the control building and an automatic rifle started hammering out short bursts in the direction of the shots.

  Taking advantage of the distraction, Dillon turned and threw himself into the car. Without bothering to buckle up, he slammed it into reverse and pulled away from the stations, almost to the street entrance.

  Focused on his goal, he ignored whatever Kayla was asking. He spun the wheel to the right and took the car along the outer wall, until he was nearly past the last station, and then whipped the wheel into a hard left. Although the angle wasn't perfect, he could now pull into the other station with their rear end facing the direction of fire.

  "Cover me," he said, getting ready to open the door. This orientation gave the snipers a clear shot at him exiting the car, and he would need a distraction to get to the chargers.

  Kayla started hammering away, alternating machine guns with the cannon. He popped the door open and dove for the ground. Then, crawling under the open door, he made his way to the cable. Completely focused on getting that cable, he tuned out the incoming and outgoing gunfire.

  Reaching up, he pulled the cable down to the ground with him. Then, tugging it along with him while he scooted along the ground, he opened the charger port on that side and plugged it in.

  The machine beeped, and a yellow light on the panel started flashing at him. Right, I have to authorize the charge.

  With a grunt, he popped up and slapped a hand on the button. He dropped back to the ground and watched while it turned green. He gasped out, "We're plugged in!" and then crawled as quickly as he could to the front of the car, placing its bulk between himself and the snipers. Once there, he leaned back against the grille, adrenaline draining away.

  In front of him, the stations for the other cars were green also. And they could just drive away when they were done, whereas he was going to have to make a two-point turn to get turned around and pointed in the right direction.

  Kayla stopped firing after a bit, and he heard her yell from the interior. "Are you okay?"

  Raising his voice similarly, he said, "Yeah, Just winded. How close are we?"

  "Only seventy percent,"

  They arrived at the station with a fifty-three percent charge. Theoretically, a full charge could take you two hundred miles. There were still one hundred sixty miles to go until their stop in Gunnison for the day. A seed of an idea was shaping up in his head.

  Eric said Highway 50 wasn't in great shape. That's going to force slower speeds, or risk blowing out tires. That also means better efficiency from the power plant.

  He yelled out to Kayla, "I've got an idea to get into the lead. Possibly a really bad idea, but we need some options here."

  "What is it?"

  "Just tell me when the meter reaches ninety percent."

  The seconds ticked by into minutes. Kayla just reported they were at eighty-five percent when motion to his right caught Dillon's eye. Two armed people were setting up on the station wall on that side, the wall providing excellent cover.

  With a yell of warning, Dillon rolled over to his left, scrambling around the front to take cover by the right tire. A half second after he moved, bullets started hammering away at the now-exposed racers. There was plenty of screaming and cursing while they sought new positions to protect themselves. Their gunners, caught off-guard by the new position of their opponents, were slow to get their weapons into play.

  Dillon got to his knees, unsure where he should go. He was exposed to fire from the original position of the snipers, and if they were assaulting the station, he definitely needed the car between him and them. The handgun at his side would be of little use here, and he would have to expose himself to fire.

  "Ninety percent," Kaya yelled. "I've got no targets!"

  That clinched it for him. He grabbed the charger and unplugged the car, leaving the cable lying on the ground. Scrambling around the open door, he jumped into the car and slammed the door closed.

  "What are we doing?" Kayla was spinning the turret from side to side, scanning for anyone closing on their position.

  "Getting the hell out of here." He clicked the harness into place and started the car. When he got the 'Drive' indicator, he backed out and to the right. Going out the way he'd planned would put them right into the fight.

  Unfortunately, the wall by the original exit sprouted two pairs of armed figures, and one had a shoulder-fired rocket launcher. The gunner was either a quick thinker or preselected his target, for he fired as soon as he popped up.

  The rocket impacted on the rear of one of the rally cars, sending a small fireball rolling across the exposed racers on that lane. Without stopping to celebrate or check the results, the gunner and his assistant began to reload.

  "Oh, no way are you scorching my paint job," barked Kayla. "Go, Dillon. I'll take care of them."

  Small arms fire began to pepper the car while he accelerated towards the exit. The flamethrower roared from above, and Kayla played the stream from Hell over the pedestrians.

  They were writhing on the ground when Dillon exited, turning right. This put them back on Eagleridge and heading towards Outlook Boulevard, which would dump them right onto Highway 50.

  With a shaky breath, he asked, "Are we clear?"

  After a few seconds, she whooped. "Free and clear. I don't see anyone else pulling away yet. We did it!"

  He turned left onto Outlook, fumbling with a water bottle from the cooler on the floor. "Yeah, now we just have to keep the lead all the way to Gunnison."

  "Speaking of which, what exactly is your 'bad' idea to get into the lead?"

  He turned onto the highway and accelerated up to fifty, well under what he judged as the safe speed for this stretch. "This was it. Unplug before everyone else and get moving first. I didn't figure on having to do it under close assault, though."

  She leaned forward, looking over his shoulder. "Can we make it on less than a full charge?"

  "We should. The trip computer shows about one hundred eighty-three-mile range. It's only one hundred and sixty, now less, to the waypoint. That gives us a twenty or so miles of emergency buffer."

  "Hold on," she said, disappearing back into her gunner's compartment. He heard the sounds of keys clicking for several minutes, and then an three-part vertical bar popped up next to the charge indicator. Currently, the top third was illuminated green.

  "That's measuring charge versus distance. If you're green, we're above the curve and will make it without eating into our buffer. If it turns yellow in the middle, that means we're on the curve and could fall below the line if we don't watch ourselves. If it's red, we're into our buffer."

  He stared in amazement. "That's… wow. You did all that in just a few minutes? And hacked into the car's display?"

  She snorted. "Child's play for the graph and the bar. And don't forget, I wrote most of the code for this car's systems. There's nothing in here I can't change on the fly."

  He smiled, glad she couldn't see his expression inside his helmet. She sounded so damned proud of her ability. "Alright then. Keep an eye out for our fellow racers. I think the Angels aren't going to be too happy eating our dust."