Near Penrose, Colorado

  The rest of the pack caught up with them near the Highway 50 and 115 intersection. They heard Gabe on the radio before they saw him.

  "There's the coward. Thought you could run and leave us to deal with those punks by ourselves?"

  Dillon laughed. "Gabe, I was only thinking about your score. You didn't get to earn any points back in the Springs, and I didn't want to be greedy."

  There was no immediate response from the other man, yet a few of the other racers laughed along. The Angel responded by taking the lead back, which Dillon let him have. Just like Kayla said, there were three days to get the lead back.

  ***

  The whole group was required to drop their speed and open the distance between them when they entered the stretch of road that ran alongside the Arkansas River. They'd been warned that the road here was in bad repair, and it was worse than they expected. The highway ran alongside the river itself, winding its way back and forth through tall, rocky walls. These same walls shed numerous rocks over the years, and only the ones that impeded traffic were cleared off the road by the occasional Colorado Department of Transportation crews. Plenty of smaller stones littered the four-lane highway.

  "Good thing there's a fifty-foot-high canyon wall next to this. This would be a bad place for an ambush." Kayla rotated the turret forward and back, scanning the opposite side of the river.

  Dillon didn't answer, his eyes tracking Angel car movements and steering the exact same path. He didn't trust the guy not to shoot him in the back if the cameras weren't looking, and he did trust in the man's self-preservation instinct. The road looked like huge bites had been taken out of it on his right. Technically, that's what the river did. With no one to maintain the road and monitor the spring runoff, the river undercut whole sections of road and washed them away. Pair that with minor landslides from the cliff side, and you've got some of the worst sections of road I've ever seen.

  "The rest of the group is keeping a good separation." She spun the turret in a three-sixty and sighed. "Nothing to shoot at and no one shooting at us. Am I wrong to be feeling let down by this part of the rally?"

  Absently, he said, "Enjoy it while you can. Get something to eat if you want. We've got a way to go, and if this gets any worse, we'll be crawling along at a snail's pace."

  She rummaged in the cooler. "You want anything? Drink, snacks?"

  "I'll take some of that trail mix. Still got half a bottle of water."

  Passing him the bag, she started unwrapping a sandwich. Between mouthfuls, she asked, "We're not doing too bad, are we?"

  "No. We're in pretty good shape, actually. And, most importantly, we're not in last place."

  She laughed. "As long as you're not in last place, things are on the plus side?"

  He laughed also. "Hey, don't knock it. Every place you move up is one step closer to winning. And I intend for us to win this thing."

  There was a long pause, and then Kayla asked, "I want us to win, too. I'm… I'm doing that, aren't I?"

  He almost laughed that off, pausing when something in her tone made him reconsider his response. "Yeah, you are. You're doing alright, Kayla. Why do you ask?"

  She sighed again, this one long and frustrated. "My dad almost wouldn't give me the chance. He was too afraid I'd get hurt, and he said I didn't have experience shooting at people in a real situation."

  "Well, he is your dad. I know my parents really don't like my career choice, because they think there's too great a chance of getting hurt or killed. In their mind, there's so many other, safer things I could be doing."

  "And the shooting part?"

  He held up a hand, waggling it back and forth. "That's something you can't tell until you actually do it. I've gone up against some people who can drive really well but can't shoot for shit because they're either scared of being shot at, or don't have that killer instinct. The public thinks autoduellists are either violent nuts looking for an outlet, or gun-crazed adrenaline junkies."

  She snorted. "Which one are you?"

  He smiled inside his helmet. "Neither. Well, I will admit to the adrenaline piece, because there's nothing like crossing the finish line first after a hard-fought battle. Being a good autoduellist is really about commitment. Wanting to finish, wanting to win. Not worrying about the bullets shredding your armor or being scared of the stuff in the road that could send you skidding into a wall."

  "The shooting isn't hard. It's like on a simulator, except there's a lot more noise and shaking. I have some ideas on how to improve our setup… never mind. Dad made it sound like it would be this really hard thing, and it's not."

  "Kayla…" he stopped, wondering if he should tell how hard it could be. To drive past a shattered wreck and see blood all over the inside. Or a severed arm or head amongst the wreckage. "Trust me, it gets worse. I think you can handle it. Just remember how far–" His voice cut off when he saw the Angel car slow to a crawl.

  He braked along with them, trying to keep at least two car lengths behind, until the white-painted car came to a complete stop. "Can you see anything from the turret camera?"

  "Nothing obvious… wait. Yeah, there's a good-sized chunk that's been washed away. Much bigger than the others. And a small landslide much farther in. I think they're trying to figure out where it's safe to cross."

  "Gabe, what's the holdup? We don't have time to waste." Jaslyn's angry voice sounded in their ears.

  "Unless you'd like to go swimming, shut up and give us a minute."

  They waited. After a couple of minutes, the Angels began to steer left, away from the washed-out portion and closer to the landslide. Dillon waited until they were nearly halfway across before he followed.

  The lead vehicle was nearly past the obstacles when it accelerated suddenly, throwing up a shower of dirt and pebbles. Although Dillon and Kayla weren't close enough to catch the debris, he still grimaced. "Showoffs."

  He continued forward, following their path. From behind, there was the clicking of keys and Kayla muttering to herself. Just when he reached the dirt pile, she gasped. "Dillon, right!"

  Without thinking twice, he swung the yoke to the right and stepped on it. The front left wheel sank suddenly, and only the independent motors for each wheel gave him the torque he needed to keep the car moving forward. They kept going, despite a sudden dip when the left rear wheel start to sink, and then they were past the spot.

  On the other side, he risked a quick look back at his gunner. "What happened?"

  "There was a sinkhole or something under that dirt pile. I saw the Angel car move funny when they drove past and went back over the footage."

  "Those bastards. They weren't looking for a safe way only, but for a way to get us stuck, or worse, in the river."

  "Well, it didn't work. For him, at least. The rest of the cars are going slow through that area. It's going to give us a pretty good lead."

  Once they were past the bad section, he got them up to forty-five again and motioned at the road. "We should be able to hold onto it, then. Doesn't look like the road is any better."

  There was a hint of worry in Kayla's voice. "If it's this bad through Monarch Pass, what do we do?"

  He steered to avoid a suspicious looking pile of dirt from an old landslide. "We creep along at one mile an hour if we need to. Mutant bikers, snipers, and backstabbing teammates won't stop me and neither will bad roads."

  Thirty minutes later, they were out of the river canyon and approaching the former city of Salida. Cut off from the trucking routes and harried by bandits, the city withered away to nothing. The AADA drone overflights showed minimal human activity and plenty of animal activity.

  They entered the remains of the town, with buildings in various states of disrepair lining the highway. Minutes later, the Angels braked rapidly, forcing him to do the same. Kayla spun her turret to bring the camera to bear, and he saw what was causing the slowdown. A herd of elk grazed along the road, chewing their way through the heavy growth of grass and bushes that covered most of the pavement.

  "Kayla, is our armor rated against elk horns?" Carefully, he followed behind the lead car, keeping an eye to both sides. The lone bull raised his head, still chewing, and gave them a gimlet eye while the convoy passed through his harem.

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  "Just… try and take them head on. Without ramming them, I mean." Her voice was low, almost a whisper.

  'They can't hear you, you know," he said in a normal voice.

  Still in a subdued voice, she said, "Better safe than sorry."

  Up ahead, the white and gold car stopped. Rafe's voice came over the radio, saying only, "Road is blocked."

  Suddenly, a single shot rang out. One of the cows leaped up into the air, and on landing started running straight at the rear of the convoy. She clipped one of the trailing cars on the right front corner, knocking the vehicle several feet. Her leg shattered on impact, and seconds later she collapsed in the road.

  Like it was a signal, multiple weapons began firing from the buildings on both sides of the road. It sounded like hail hitting the car, only this deadly rain was seeking a way inside. The noise caused the elk to scatter, and six-hundred or more-pound bodies were bounding everywhere, seeking an escape.

  "Find us a way out of here!" Dillon shouted, scanning the road on both sides for an opening. The four exits he could see were blocked by debris, and he realized with a shock they'd entered a kill zone.

  Cannon fire rang out from the Angels car, while they battered away at the combination of fallen trees and building material that blocked all four lanes of traffic. Dillon couldn't see what effect they were having, however. I'm not waiting for them to blow their way through and get shot to pieces while I do.

  He executed a sharp one-eighty turn, raking the buildings with the front cannon when his front end swung around. It didn't matter if he hit anything or not, just that he was firing back. He accelerated back the way they had come, and he saw other vehicles start to do the same.

  A rocket lanced out from the biggest building on the north side of the road, striking a rally car in the side before they could begin their turn. More rockets arced out, leaving smoke trails hanging in the air while they sought their targets.

  Dillon saw one coming for them and braked hard, steering to the right. Just like he expected, his opponent was aiming for where he expected the car to be. The rocket sailed past and exploded in an empty building on the south side. Meanwhile, Dillon was lining up the rear cannon with the origin of the smoke trail. He fired twice and then gunned the engine.

  "Kayla, we need a way around. Real quick!"

  "Up on your left. The next street after the burned-out restaurant. It's not blocked."

  He cut left at the intersection, ready to fire on either building while the nose of the car swung around. Nothing interfered with their turn and sped down the two-lane side street. They passed an apartment complex and were into a residential area. He had to slow then, because wrecks, fallen trees, and other hazards made the going difficult.

  "We gonna get back on the highway at some point?"

  Kayla snapped, "I'm trying to find a route on that image they gave us. It's low-res, so it's not easy. Y-intersection coming up; take the left, and then the second left. Don't count the alleyways."

  The abandoned houses made for an eerie drive, and he tried to watch them and the road. Kayla was back on the turret, swinging left and right to watch their flanks. He saw in his rear camera they'd picked up some of the other competitors, although he wasn't sure how many.

  He turned left onto the new street, and Kayla said, "This will take us back to the highway. Assuming it's not blocked at some point."

  After four blocks, the road started to clear up. He could see the highway intersection up ahead, and he said, "Get ready. They can probably hear us coming."

  A bullet spanged off the front left panel while he spoke, and he accelerated even more. In a worried tone, his gunner asked, "Are you going to be able to make that turn at this speed?"

  "You worry about those snipers; I'll worry about the turn."

  The flamethrower roared, first left and then right, coating the buildings on either side of the road with flames. Dillon shot through the conflagration, tires squealing. He swung wide onto Highway 50. The road was clear on this side of the roadblock, and he accelerated up to sixty, wary of upcoming obstacles.

  They cleared the former town of Salida with a huge lead over the rest of the pack, with the rest of them at least a quarter mile behind. Gabe was cursing them out in Spanish over the radio for being left behind, and Dillon didn't care. Finally, he saw an open road in front of him, and he was going to make the most of it.

  ***

  Approaching Monarch Pass, Colorado

  The ATSS team maintained the lead while they wound their way through the countryside. The forest began to close in on either side of the highway, and gradually the grade steepened. Even more concerning was the sky up ahead.

  "Nothing from Rally Control. I guess that means the road's still passable." Kayla leaned forward, putting her head next to his.

  "I guess we keep going then. How are these radials on wet roads, or God forbid, snow?"

  She snorted. "Wet roads they can handle, no problem. Just remember you've got that heavy front end, with armor and weapons. You start to skid, and it's going to have a say in the direction you go."

  The radio crackled to life on their channel, and he recognized the voice of one of the minor league cars. There was a slight tremor in it. "You guys see any weather up ahead?"

  "Nope. Cloudy and no rain or anything else."

  "Good. But, um, if you do, let us know in a hurry. One of our tires is showing a drop in pressure. Probably took a good hit back there at the ambush."

  He glanced left and right, where the undergrowth masked the sides of the road and even ventured out onto the asphalt. Saplings and waist-high bushes at the edge gave way quickly to older growth pines, their tops reaching to the sky.

  "Kayla, you got anything in sight that might be a threat?"

  "Nope. I'd have already told you."

  He keyed the mike. "Hey, the road is clear and there are spots up here to pull off. You wanna pull over and do a quick patch job?"

  There was a long pause, and then they replied. "No. Don't want to lose the time. It should hold until we get to Gunnison. It's not that far."

  Gabe's voice came on. "Will you all quit jabbering and pick up the pace? Or just let me pass, Hodges, if you're too afraid of heights."

  Kayla muttered, "Go ahead, let him. He can be a bullet sponge or find the weak spot in the road. Suits him to be a target."

  Dillon gritted his teeth. The idea of the Angels moving ahead of him bothered him a lot, still he couldn't deny Kayla's logic. This wasn't an event that would be won in one leg. There would be plenty of opportunities for him to take the lead again.

  "Fine, Gabe. You want the lead; you can have it." He veered to the right, hugging the edge of the road.

  He knew the other crew wanted to blow their doors off passing them, however the slope was steep enough that it took several seconds of acceleration for him to build up his speed. The white and gold vehicle slowly drew even, and Dillon looked to the left at them. Gabe gave him the middle finger when he passed, and then their speed was great enough that they shot on ahead.

  "Asshole," he said to himself, forgetting that the intercom was always live.

  "Always was, always will be. Did I tell you he tried to drive for us once?"

  "No. Really? I thought you guys didn't do sponsorships?"

  "Oh, he wanted to be a test driver. Our annual budget for munitions is greater than what some states spend on their militias. Weapons and targeting software need a lot of testing, and he wanted to be able to play with all that ordnance. Dad wasn't having him, though. Saw right through the eager beaver act. Boy, was Gabe pissed." She laughed, relishing the memory.

  "He doesn't seem to hold a grudge against you for not hiring him."

  "Oh, I doubt he even cares to remember. A guy like him, he's probably convinced himself that he turned us down." She paused to take a drink from her water bottle. "I've seen those types. Convinced they're God's gift to the world and that nobody could refuse to acknowledge their greatness."

  The mockery in her voice made him turn his head to look at her briefly. "Let me guess; more than one of them hit on you and was shocked when you turned him down."

  "Direct hit. As annoying as it is, the look on their faces was worth it. I have to admit, crushing someone's worldview of themselves can be immensely satisfying."

  He laughed with her, and then their glee died when they came around the next bend. A heavy fog bank covered the road fifty yards ahead, and Gabe's taillights were just disappearing into it.

  Letting off the acceleration pedal, Dillon cursed under his breath. "Bastard didn't even let us know." He toggled the mike. "Heads up, people. There's a heavy fog bank around the next curve."

  They entered the dim grayness and Dillon slowed even further, down to twenty-five miles per hour. He let the others know how much he'd slowed down, and then both of them kept watch on the road. Visibility was down to about one car length, at best.

  "The road's getting slick," he told her. "I can feel the tires slipping every now and then."

  "Outside temperature is forty-four degrees. We shouldn't have to worry about ice, at least."

  A fallen tree emerged out of the fog, like a skeletal hand reaching out to the road. Fortunately, it was just the top that was in the road, and he easily maneuvered around it. Passing the information back to the rest of the cars, and noting that once again, the Angels hadn't warned them about it, Dillon tried to keep to the middle of the road as best he could.

  Just before they crested the mountain, the fog bank thinned out. Up ahead, the wide-open road greeted them with a dilapidated building and several rusted signs. Looking around, Dillon realized something.

  "Kayla, that wasn't fog. Those were clouds."

  A puffy layer of gray and white coated the mountainsides below them, and stretched for as far as the eye could see. The sun was bright and lowering in the western sky to their right. There was no sign of the Angels, however.

  Dillon kept their speed down and they started on the downslope side. All too quickly, the clouds closed in around them again, like a blanket thrown over the road. The road was significantly wetter, also. Spray flew to either side while they traveled, and Dillon increased the regenerative braking to keep his speed from climbing too high.

  "Dillon, take it easy going downhill. The map shows lots of curves and switchbacks on this side."

  "Yeah, they need it. This grade is a killer." He resisted using the brakes when the car fishtailed slightly, instead increasing the regenerative braking level again.

  The clouds continued to hamper their vision, and Dillon found he couldn't shift out of third gear without getting his speed too high. The snow and ice over the decades seriously degraded the road surface, and there were small potholes and cracks everywhere. It was impossible to hug the mountain side of the road, since rocks, tree limbs, and dirt from landslides were piled here and there. He'd stuck to the middle of the road and kept the guardrail on the slope side in his peripheral vision. There were too many breaks in it where something previously went over the side of the road.

  Rain started to fall, a light patter that was irritating even if it wasn't worrisome. The wipers swept the windshield clean every few seconds, and Dillon felt his nerves fraying. He tried to relax this grip on the wheel and settle into his seat. Kayla was spinning the turret back and forth, scanning behind and ahead. The soft whoosh every few seconds, audible over the slap of the raindrops on the roof was beginning to grate on his nerves.

  "Kayla, can you pick one direction and just stay there?" He realized when he said it that he sounded curt.

  "Oh. Sorry. Just trying to keep an eye on things for you." Her voice was soft and apologetic, with hurt undertones.

  "It's… okay. Just distracting me. How about you just watch ahead and help me navigate this obstacle course."

  The turret spun to the front, and his gunner didn't say anything. He could feel the hurt radiating off her, though. Ignoring it as best he could, he focused on his driving. The water on the ground was forming into small streams that made handling difficult. He could feel the backend wobble every so often when they drove through a deeper patch.

  They'd gone less than half a mile when they heard, "Oh shit!" over the radio. Kayla swung the turret to the rear, seeing very little since the clouds hid everything.

  "I got nothing on camera," she reported. "Who was that?"

  "I'm not–" he stopped when one of the trailing racers came on the radio. Their voice was strained, and the words clipped.

  "We just lost somebody. They started to hydroplane and hit some debris. It blew the bad tire. They went into a skid right off the road and down the mountain."