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The storm continued all that day and into the night. They slept within the broken body of the car, and it sheltered them. When the storm ceased. Ta
"We'll wait till morning," he said, and she held his Hellprinted hand, and they slept.
XVI In the morning, Ta
He crawled into the back of the cab then and removedthe rear seat. Beneath it, in the storage compartment, was the large aluminum chest that was his cargo. It was bolted shut. He lifted it, carried it out to his bike.
"That the stuff?" she asked.
He nodded and placed it on the ground.
"I don't know how the stuff is stored, if it's refrigerated in there or what," he said, "but it ain't too heavy that I might not be able to get it on the back of my bike. There's straps in the far right compartment. Go get 'em and give me a hand—and get me my pardon out of the middle compartment. It's in a big cardboard envelope."
She returned with these things and helped him secure the container on the rear of his bike.
He wrapped extra straps around his left biceps, and they wheeled the machines to the road.
"We'll have to take it kind of slow," he said, and he slung the rifle over his right shoulder, drew on his gloves and kicked his bike to life.
She did the same with hers, and they moved forward, side by side along the highway.
After they had been riding for perhaps an hour, two cars passed them, heading west. In the rear seats of both there were children, who pressed their faces to the glass and watched them as they went by. The driver of the second car was in his shirtsleeves and wore a black shoulder holster.
The sky was pink, and there were three black lines that looked as if they could be worth worrying about. The sun was a rose-tinted silvery thing, and pale, but Ta
It was around noontime when he heard the first shot above the thunder of their engines. At first he thought it was a backfire, but it came again, and Corny cried out and swerved off the road and struck a boulder.
Ta
He raised the 30.06 and fired.
The shot was returned, and he moved to his left.
It had come from a hill about two hundred feet away, and he thought he saw the rifle's barret.
He aimed at it and fired again.
The shot was returned, and he wormed his way further left. He crawled perhaps fifteen feet until he reached a pile of rubble he could crouch behind. Then he pulled the pin on a grenade, stood and hurled it.
He threw himself flat a? another shot rang out, and he took another grenade into his hand.
There was a roar and a rumble and a mighty flash, and the junk fell about him as he leaped to his feet and threw the second one, taking better aim this time.
After the second explosion, he ran forward with his rifle in his hands, but it wasn't necessary.
He only found a few small pieces of the man, and none at all of his rifle.
He returned to Cornelia.
She wasn't breathing, and her heart had stopped beating, and he knew what that meant.
He carried her back to the ditch in which he had lam and he made it deeper by digging, using his handsHe laid her down in it and he covered her with the dirt. Then he wheeled her machine over, set the kickstand, and stood it upon the grave. With his dagger, he scratched upon the fender: Her name was Cornelia and I don't know how old she was or where she came from or what her last name was but she was Hell Ta
XVII He drove along, and after a time he heard the sound of another bike. A Harley cut onto the road from the dirt path to his left, and he couldn't try ru
After awhile, the rider of the other bike—a tall, thin man with a flaming beard—drew up alongside him, to theleft. He smiled and raised his right hand and let it fall and then gestured with his head.
Ta
"Boston."
"What you got in the box?"
"Like, drugs."
"What kind?" and the man's eyebrows arched and the smile came again onto his lips.
"For the plague they got going there."
"Oh. I thought you meant the other kind."
"Sorry."
The man held a pistol in his right hand and he said, "Get off your bike."
Ta
"What's the bit?" Ta
The man ignored the question. "Who are you?" he asked.
"Hell's the name," he replied. "Hell Ta
"Go to hell."
Ta
"You ain't Hell Ta
Ta
"There's my name."
"I don't believe it," said the roan, after he had studied the tattoo.
"Have it your way, citizen."
"Shut up!" and he raised his left hand once more, now that the other man had parked the machine on the road and returned to a place somewhere within the trees to the right.
In response to his gesture, there was movement within the brush.
Bikes were pushed forward by their riders, and they lined the road, twenty or thirty on either side.
"There you are," said the man. "My name's Big Brother."
"Glad to meet you.""You know what you're going to do, mister?"
"I can really just about guess."
"You're going to walk up to your bike and claim it."
Ta
"How hard's that going to be?"
"No trouble at all. Just start walking. Give me your rifle first, though."
Big Brother raised his hand again, and one by one the engines came to life.
"Okay," he said. "Now."
"You think I'm crazy, man?"
"No. Start walking. Your rifle.**
Ta
He fell upon the rifle and shouldered it in a prone firing position. As he did this, the first explosion occurred. He was firing before the second one went off.
He dropped three of them, then got to his feet and scrambled, firing from the hip.
He made it behind Big Brother's fallen bike and fired from there. Big Brother was still fallen, too. When the rifle was empty, he didn't have time to reload. He fired the .45 four times before a tire chain brought him down.
He awoke to the roaring of the engines. They were circling him. When he got to his feet, a handlebar knocked him down again.