by Jon Mayhew
Silva narrowed her eyes and pushed Blue Flash faster. “We’ll see who’s chicken!” she growled.
“Silva, no!” Omak yelled. “That police car is bigger and heavier. It’ll demolish us!”
The police car grew nearer, filling their view. Omak could see Blanchard’s mad, staring eyes, his insane grin. At the last second, Silva threw the buggy to one side. Blue Flash rolled once and then landed back on its wheels. Omak put his hand to the strong safety harness as if to thank it for keeping him safe. They sat, dazed, for a second. Blanchard lost control of the police car and it went crashing off the road and into the desert.
“He’s getting away!” Silva tried to start the engine but it just spluttered and coughed. Blanchard’s police car was shrinking into the distance.
“Come on!” Silva cried, trying the engine again. This time the engine backfired and then roared into life. “Good girl!” Silva slapped the dashboard and put her foot down.
They screamed across the rough desert after Blanchard. The police car was a distant speck kicking up a plume of dust.
“We’ll never catch him,” Omak groaned.
“Wait a minute,” Silva said. “Look. He’s stopped.”
The car had come to a halt. Silva drove carefully towards it. “It might be some new kind of trick,” she said. But Omak wasn’t sure.
They came to the car, its lights still flashing, but it was empty. Where was Blanchard? Omak put his breathing mask on and climbed out of Blue Flash, Silva’s axe in his hand.
“Where’s he gone?” Silva called from the buggy.
“I think I know,” Omak said, peering inside. The test tube lay broken on the floor of the vehicle. Some way off, a Snapper was staggering around on its own. “Let’s go and see,” Omak said.
By the look of him, Mayor Blanchard had got the full dose from the test tube. His face was grey and boils and blisters studded his cheeks and forehead. His hands hung loose at his sides and he stopped when Silva and Omak drove past him. He watched them with his head tilted to one side as their car circled him.
“That’s horrible,” Silva gasped.
“He got a taste of his own medicine,” Omak said. “The test tube must have broken when he nearly hit us and went off the road.”
“We can’t just leave him,” Silva said.
“Why not? It’s what he would have done to thousands of people, women and children too,” Omak said. “We can’t take him back. I reckon it serves him right.”
Mayor Blanchard watched, his face blank, as Blue Flash vanished into the distance. He couldn’t remember who he was, all he knew was hunger. He was so hungry it hurt. He stumbled off in search of meat.
Omak and Silva went back to the police car and set fire to it. “That should destroy what’s left of the virus,” said Silva, watching the flames and the thick black smoke. “What will you do now?”
Omak shrugged. “I don’t know. I was hoping this mission would pay off all Mum’s debts,” he said. “I’m still broke and now I need to get my car fixed too. I’m worse off than before.”
“We could work together for a while,” Silva said, flashing Omak a smile. “I think we make a pretty neat team. I’ll share my wages until you get your car fixed.”
“You’d do that for me?” asked Omak, staring at Silva.
“Yeah, I often need a partner on my missions,” she said. “You can handle yourself and you’re pretty good company. What do you say?”
Omak could feel himself blushing. “Sure,” he said. “Why not? Thanks… partner!”
Silva grinned and fist-bumped Omak. “Let’s get back to the city, then. We’ve got work to do!”
THE END
Death Road ISBN 978-1-78464-245-7
Text © Jon Mayhew 2014
Complete work © Badger Publishing Limited 2014
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any form or by any means mechanical, electronic, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the publisher.
The right of Jon Mayhew to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and
Patents Act 1988.
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