Chapter 441

Cars filled the southbound land, all honking at each other, in some cases the occupants getting out to look at the huge plume of smoke rising up from where the Terran strikers had crashed into the fleeing people. A single car raced up the northbound lane, in the middle of the six lanes, driving nearly sixty kpm to the 'limit' of 35 kpm.

The car was full, the driver was a young teenage Hesstlan, the passenger was a mature Hesstlan female, in between them was a toddler safety seat securing an angry toddler that was screeching at the top of her lungs. In the two back seats was an adult male Hesstlan, three young Hesstlan males, and a pair of immature Hesstlan females.

And a kittykitty carrier who's occupant was daintily climbing up onto the seat to look out the window.

Dambree 'kept the hammer down' as she had heard in Terran media, speeding away from the long line of cars as fast as she could. She heard her nav-comp beep that it had laid in a course that would avoid any settlements or factories, would avoid any places that the emergency signal labeled as a shelter or refugee point, and would avoid any place restricted by the Terran military.

A modified civil defense transportation of refugee supplies nav-comp program that Dambree had found on Gal-Net a month after she had left treatment.

The car was buzzing and she glanced at the gauges, then gave a wry smile.

25% charge.

"Where... where are we going?" Aunt Fenn asked softly.

"To the safe place," Tru said. She leaned over the seat and gave Nee a biter cookie and a juice box. Nee yelled "NO!" as she grabbed both and then started gnawing on the cookie.

"Where's that?" Uncle Inkree asked.

Outside a flight of Third Telkan Marine strikers raced by, heading for the line of cars. Dambree glanced at them in the rearview, just glad to see they didn't suddenly tumble out of the sky.

"The safe place," Tru repeated. "Where we were."

Uncle Inkree stayed silent as the car kept moving, flashing by the stalled cars in the southbound lane. Twice people tried to run across the median and wave Dambree to a stop but she kept going.

One she hit, the body bouncing off the side fender to vanish behind him.

"YOU HIT HIM!" Aunt Fenn shrieked.

"He wanted the car," Dambree growled.

"He wanted our stuff," Tru added.

"He wanted the girls to hurt," Elu finished.

"BAD!" Nee yelled, spraying juice on herself. She glared at everyone and went back to sucking on the juice box.

"You don't know that," Aunt Fenn said.

Dambree turned and looked at her. She held out her hand, showing the thick scar on her forearm.

"A woman and two children came to our cabin, asking for help. When they thought I was asleep one of the children came to where I was sleeping with a knife to cut my throat," Dambree said, paying attention to the road again. She put her hand back on the wheel. "She cut my arm while I strangled her."

"The mommy reached for where Nee was sleeping, she had a knife, she was licking her lips and drooling," Elu said.

"Elu shot her," Tru said. "I stabbed the other girl while she was staring at her mommy. I stabbed her till she stopped moving and peed herself."

Everyone in the car kept alternating between staring at Elu, Tru, and Dambree, their mouths open, their ears rigid and upright in shock. Not so much at the words, but at the tone.

Flat. Empty. Drained of emotion.

"I know what they want," Dambree said, weaving around several broken down cars in the northbound lane, easing off the accelerator for a moment and hammering it back down when they cleared the wreckage.

"What... what's that, Bree?" Meglee asked.

"Everything," Tru said. "They want everything you have."

"And they want to laugh and mock you while they take it," Elu said softly.

"Before they take your life," Dambree finished.

The nav-comp beeped and Dambree slowed down, taking the off-ramp.

"Tru, Elu, eyes right, what do you see?" She asked as she kept moving across the empty lanes.

"Power station!" Tru called out. "No cars."

"Snack shack! No cars!" Elu said. "Power station! No cars."

"No cars, no people," Tru said. "Burning planes not too far from one of the power stations."

Dambree drove down the onramp. Once she got to the bottom she whipped the wheel, pulling a 180, and went back up the on-ramp, taking a left and slowing down. It was starting to get dark and Dambree didn't like moving around in the dark with this many people in the car.

"All right, we're going to charge up the car. Elu, you keep watch while I scout the Quiki-Charge," Dambree said. She turned off the headlights and eased off the gas, slowly rolling down the inclined road that led to the bridge and highway access ramps. "Tru, you take over. If anything happens, you drive and you don't look back. Follow the nav."

"Okay," Tru said. She glanced back at the setting sun behind them.

"Who's going to pay for the charge?" Aunt Fenn asked.

"Nobody," Dambree admitted.

"That's stealing," Meglee said.

"I know," Dambree answered. She stopped the car and shaded her eyes, looking at the Quiki-Charge shop. The lights were off, no cars, but the charging stations had power. She let off the brake and slowly crept forward.

"I'll pay for the charge," Uncle Inkee said, reaching into his pocket.

"You'll sit in the car and shut up," Dambree snapped, sudden anger welling up as her uncle almost distracted her. She'd thought she'd seen something around the edge of the back of the building, but now it was gone.

"Excuse me, young..." Inkee said, then saw the red glow in his niece's eyes in the rearview. He looked at his wife, who just shook her head.

"Nobody get out of the car after Tru gets in," Dambree said.

"Should we put Nee in the back?" Tru asked.

"No," Dambree said. She squinted at the windows of the Quiki-Charge, which had been turned into mirrors by the setting sun.

"Mister Mewmew should stay here," Elu said. "Just in case we have to leave you."

"I know," Dambree said, staring at the building. She could taste the taste of fizzybrew so strongly she had to consciously keep from licking her lips.

YOU BELONG TO US! sounded out and she winced, pain spiking through her head. Her relatives cried out in pain, huddling down, putting their hands over the base of their ears.

"Eat a fucking dick!" Dambree cried out at the same time as it sounded out in her mind.

Nee shrieked out a wordless toddler cry of rage.

Elu didn't flinch, just kept looking behind the car, looking in the grass.

He could remember the machines that came out of the grass, chasing those people, on the farm all that time ago.

"Dambree Limberton," Aunt Fenn snapped. "Do not say such things!"

Dambree ignored her, idling the car into the spot.

"Be careful, we couldn't see inside," Elu said.

"I know," Dambree said. She tapped the dash, bringing up the context menu. She quickly overrode the safety, making it so the car could be charged while it was running. "I'll pump," she said. She got out and Tru climbed over the seats to sit down.

Nee growled and snapped at her before going back to biting her cookie and kicking her feet against the seat.

Dambree moved quickly and deliberately, opening the charging panel and grabbing the 'pump' before slotting it in place. She pulled the thin electronic wand out of her pocket and tapped the pump.

It stubbornly refused to activate.

PLEASE PAY INSIDE was written on the case in red paintstick.

Dambree moved over to the car, looking at Tru. "I have to go inside. Stay alert."

Tru nodded, biting her lower lip, her ears trembling with anxiety.

Dambree made a slow circuit around the Quiki-Charge building, see a vehicle parked out back. The checked the back door and found out it was open, wedged slightly. That made her frown and she held onto the handle as she slid the wedge out. She heard the door click and lock when closed as she stayed kneeling down and pushed the wedge under the edge of the door.

She looked over the vehicle, looking for anything out of place.

Nothing.

She opened the door quietly and reached underneath, pulling the wires out, and closed the door.

She came back around, standing near the front.

YOU BELONG TO US! sounded out, making Dambree wince.

THE COME AND TAKE IT! sounded back.

She wiped her eyes and looked at the car, seeing everyone but Elu nervously looking at her.

"Clear," she lied, flicking her ears twice.

Tru nodded, still looking at her. Dambree noticed that her little sister slowly put the car in drive.

Dambree moved up on the door and pushed at it.

It opened slowly, the little 'bing-bong' sounding out. The inside of the station was dimly lit, like it had been shut down for the night.

She slowly prowled through, looking for anything out of place. Nothing useful beyond nibbles and sippies, which she swept into a bag. She moved over to the register and tapped it a few times, bringing it to life and authorizing charging on station four.

Something scraped in the back room.

Dambree didn't freeze, just snapped open a fizzybrew and took a couple of deep gulps.

Her drymouth, sore throat, and headache cleared almost immediately. She gave a deep sigh and took another drink.

The car was 50% charged.

Dambree moved up, wedging open the door, and started to move bags to the car.

"Who's paying for all this?" Aunt Fenn asked.

"Nobody," Dambree said.

A flight of strikers went overhead, moving toward the city.

"Someone should pay for it, this is stealing," Aunt Fenn said on the second trip.

"I know," Dambree answered, looking around. The sun was starting to slip below the horizon.

She checked the status. 68% and rising.

When she hauled two cases of fizzybrew back to the car Aunt Fenn got out and put her hand on the trunk after Dambree closed it.

"Alcohol? Do we really need alcohol?" Aunt Fenn asked.

"Yes," Dambree said.

"Your breath stinks of it," Aunt Fenn said.

"I know," Dambree said, turning around and walking back toward the store. She wished it was one of the full service cargo hauler ones like she'd raided the first time, but she'd take what she could get.

Aunt Fenn followed. "You could go to jail," she said.

"I know," Dambree said. She moved into the store, heading for the soft drinks. She wanted to get sippies for Nee, who preferred uddlevent fruit sippies.

Aunt Fenn was looking around as Dambree filled up the shopping bag with sippies for everyone. She dropped the empty fizzybrew can and grabbed another one, cracking it open with the same hand she was holding it with in a long-practiced movement.

"Here, carry this," Dambree said, pushing the bag into Aunt Fenn's hands. "Be useful. Take it to the car."

"I think you need to stop giving orders, little miss," Aunt Fenn snapped, her ears going straight up.

"I know," Dambree said.

YOU BELONG TO US! sounded out again.

EAT A DICK! roared back, along with COME AND TAKE IT THEN!, which Dambree joined in with.

Her aunt fell down to her knees, holding her head.

Dambree shook her head as her aunt slowly got her feet. She turned back and began dropping several more cans of alcoholic energy drink into the bag she was holding. It was a Terran drink, called 'Liquid Hate', and she'd developed a little bit of a taste for it. Sure, the cans were twice as big as the fizzybrews, it tasted like liquid death, and made her hands shake for a few minutes after the first drink, and it turned her pee green and made it smell like ullikleaf, but it had its uses.

"Oh, hi," she heard Aunt Fenn say.

Dambree ducked down quickly, spinning around on the balls of her feet.

"Whatcha doin' in the store, missy?" a male voice asked.

"Are you OK?" Aunt Fenn asked. "Your eyes look..."

"I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!" the male yelled.

Dambree crab walked around the aisle, getting an angle on her aunt.

"Um, I'm... I'm looking for... for something," her aunt said.

Dambree reached up and wrapped her hand around one of the long hook hang tabs, lifting it slightly and pulling it toward her.

"So, you're stealing," the male said. There was a weird bubbling giggle.

YOU BELONG TO US! sounded out again, along with the reply.

Her aunt cried out.

Dambree noticed that the male didn't as she came around the corner. Her aunt was still in between the aisles, the male, smaller than her, was facing Aunt Fenn, who had dropped the bag and covered her ears.

"Take off your top," the man ordered.

Aunt Fenn's eyes got big and her ears flattened with fear.

The male made some kind of gesture, holding something out to Aunt Fenn.

"Please don't hurt me," Aunt Fenn whimpered.

"Maybe I won't, maybe I will," the male giggled. "Depends on how nice you are to me."

Dambree held still, glancing out the windows. Nobody was in front of the car, but Uncle Inkee and Cousin Ultrek had gotten out and were arguing with Tru, who had rolled up the window. Dambree could see Uncle Inkee pulling on the door handle and knew Tru had locked the door.

When she looked back, out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Aunt Fenn had taken off her blouse and was covering her bra with her arms.

"The bra too," the male said.

Aunt Fenn shook her head. The man made a swiping noise and Aunt Fenn jumped back, her hands going back behind her.

"You be nice, nothing'll happen to your little family outside," the male said. "I hit the anti-theft, your car isn't going anywhere."

Dambree kept from snorting. That was the first thing she'd locked out. She put the hang tab in her mouth and slowly spun the bag with the cans in it with her now free hand, watching out of the corner of her eyes even as she tensed.

When Aunt Fenn's bra fell the male just stood there, staring. Aunt Fenn went to cover herself and the male snapped at her.

Dambree lunged out, taking three long steps, swinging the bag by the second step. Her aunt's eyes widened in shock as she saw Dambree explode out of concealment, saw the red in her eyes burning with hatred.

The cans hit the male hard over the head, sending him staggering. He dropped a knife, his hands coming up. Dambree slid to a stop as she swung again, hitting him in the middle of the back. The male's hands went to his back and he started to turn.

His eyes were surrounded by bruised looking flesh, he'd started leaking bloody tears into his fur.

Dambree hit him in the face, the bag splitting, a can flying out.

"DAMBREE!" Aunt Fenn shrieked.

The male fell backwards and Dambree straddled him, dropping the bag, grabbing the hook out of her mouth. She dropped hard on his stomach, grabbing one of the cans. The male's mouth opened wide as his breath whuffed out.

Silent, Dambree drove the hang tab into his eye as deep as she could, holding tight to the long hook tab.

Her aunt screamed again, this time joining the male, who bucked, trying to throw Dambree off.

Dambree kept her knees tight, pinning his arms, and slammed the bottom of the Terran energybrew can into the square end of the hook tab.

The long thin metal rod drove in at least three inches with a crunch. The male spasmed and went limp.

"Get your blouse on," Dambree ordered, without looking at her aunt. She pulled the hook tab out, closing her eyes and turning her face away, then put it in her waistband.

Dambree took the can and smashed it against the male's throat, once, twice, three times and she felt the cartilage go. She leaned into the can, pressing it hard into the smashed throat. The male's breathing went from a whistling to a gurgling to nothing.

"You killed him!" Aunt Fenn shrieked.

"I know. Get your blouse on," Dambree said, standing up. She was shaking, her muscles already aching. She moved over and picked up the knife. She had been hoping for a hunting or skinning knife, even a decorative knife. Instead, it was a kitchen knife.

"You killed him! You're a murderer!" Aunt Fenn said. Dambree turned and looked at her. Aunt Fenn hissed in fear and took two steps back, her ears flattening protectively. "You're a killer, Dambree Limberton!"

Dambree's eyes were glowing red.

"I know," Dambree said. "Pick up your blouse. Put it on. We're leaving."

Aunt Fenn's face was still contorted with fear as she pulled on her blouse and grabbed her bra. Dambree held the knife in her mouth as she quickly gathered up the last of the supplies she could see. Thankfully the little convenience store carried Treana'ad smokes, which meant Dambree was able to grab a couple dozen butane lighters and drop them into the bag. She wrapped the knife in a piece of plas and stuck in her waistband, then grabbed a bunch of shiny mylar bags as well as dumped some foil wrapped nibbles into the bag.

"Let's go," Dambree said, leading her aunt out.

"You just killed him," Aunt Fenn said. "You didn't even warn him."

"I know," Dambree said. She moved over and yanked the charger out, letting it fall. She looked at her male relatives, who were all staring at her.

"Get in the car," Dambree said.

"You're covered in blood," Uncle Inkee said.

"What happened?" Cousin Ellaf asked.

"Dambree just killed a man!" Aunt Fenn cried out.

"Get. In. The. Car," Dambree said, moving over and tapping on the window.

Tru unlocked the doors.

"Why are you carrying your brassiere?" Uncle Inkee asked.

"There was a man," Aunt Fenn said.

"GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!" Dambree yelled out. All four of them turned and looked at her. "Get in the car or I'll leave you here."

Dambree didn't wait for an answer, just got in. Tru climbed over the seat and Dambree handed the bag to her. "Pull out the nibbles, use the metal foil to make everyone hats," Dambree ordered.

"Mama, daddy, please," Meglee said. "Dambree knows what she's doing."

Tru nodded at Dambree's words.

It was geting dark, and Dambree knew one fact.

The always came out at night.

Her aunt and uncle got in the middle bench seat, her cousins getting in the back.

Mister Mewmew climbed up and nuzzled Dambree then flashed a :) on the black macroplast between his eyes. As Dambree pulled out, turning around and heading for the freeway, Mister Mewmew checked out Aunt Fenn.

"Why are you carrying your bra?" Uncle Inkee asked as they drove down the freeway.

"A man made me take off my blouse and bra," Aunt Fenn said quietly.

"Oh," Dambree could hear the pain in Uncle Inkee's voice. "What happened?"

"Are you OK, mom?" Cousin Ellaf asked.

"Dambree killed him. She just killed him," Aunt Fenn said. She started sobbing. "It was terrible. She didn't say anything, just killed him."

"I'm glad," Cousin Ultrek said, his 11 year old voice firm and proud.

"Don't say that!" Uncle Inkee said. "Dambree killed a person!"

"They aren't people any more, Uncle," Tru said. She held out a round cap with holes for the ears made out of the thick foil that had wrapped the self-heat. She had pulled all the self-heat tabs off and put them in her pocket, saving them in case they needed to be used later. "Put this on."

"What? Why?" Uncle Inkee asked.

"So that the Slorpy screams don't hurt your brain and make you hurt people," Elu said.

"Put it on," Dambree snapped.

"Young lady, you should..." Uncle Inkee started.

"Kee, stop," Aunt Fenn said softly.

"But, Fennie, she..." Uncle Inkee stopped.

"Just stop, Kee," Aunt Fenn said. She looked out the window. "Just do what she says."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the car as Dambree kept driving. She cracked open a can of "Liquid Hate" (6.4% alcohol by volume! 2,000X Daily Recommended Caffienne! Five times daily recommended sugars! What, do you want to live forever, asshole?) and gulped some down. Her stomach cramped and her eyes teared up, her mouth burned from the chemicals, and for a second she almost threw up.

Then the feeling went away and she could feel energy returning to her tired limbs.

Twice more the shout sounded out.

This time nobody flinched, their hats securely on their heads.

The sun had set and the road was empty on both sides when Dambree saw it.

A trio of crashed strikers, some parts still burning.

She slowed down, wove between them, then came to a stop.

"Tru," she said, unlocking the door. She knew Tru would know what to do.

Tru climbed over the seat.

"Mister Mewmew, come with me?" Dambree asked.

Mister Mewmew gave one of his weird vocalizations. It had become garbled after the Slorpy had attacked. Instead of 'mew' or 'meow' it was more 'mrawowra'.

Dambree got out, waiting till Tru got in the driver's seat. Mister Mewmew jumped out, stumbling slightly and recovering. Tru locked all the doors but the middle driver's side, her face tight with worry and her ears flat against the back of her head and neck.

Looking around her, Dambree slowly walked back to the wreckage. The three strikers had hit the ground and tumbled, the impact damaging them but they'd held together well. The weapons and the grav-pods had torn off, but the main body was intact on all three. The crysteel windshields on the cockpit were starred and cracked, but Dambree could still see two unmoving forms in the cockpits.

She climbed into first one, moving slowly, and explored it. Fifteen unmoving Terrans in the main part, two slumped over panels toward the front. Two still belted in and slumped in the front. She walked to each one, checking each of the strikers as Mister Mewmew checked the motionless armor, and found the same thing in each one. They were all heavily armed, all in heavy black armor, all with opaque faceplates.

All dead.

She got out of the last one and slowly walked back to the car, stopping next to Tru and tapping on the window.

Tru rolled down the window.

"Elu, Uncle Inkee, Ullie, and Ellie, come with me," she said. "The rest of you, keep watch," she looked at Tru. "You see anything, three fast hits on the horn."

"I remember," Tru said softly. Her lower lip trembled. "It's happening again."

"I know," Dambree said softly. She held out her hand and Tru handed her a fizzybrew. She cracked it open as her male relatives got out, still looking subdued and anxious at the same time. She took a couple of drinks, then moved over to the males.

Tru rolled the window back up.

"Don't touch anything I don't give you," Dambree said, leading them to the strikers. "Don't touch the Terrans. Don't get in. Don't touch the guns," she ordered.

Her relatives didn't say anything.

She stopped at the first one. "Wait here," she ordered.

Uncle Inkee nodded. Her two male cousins just nodded. Elu turned around to look at the forest beyond.

"See if there's survival kits and first aid kits, Mister Mewmew," Dambree said.

Mister Mewmew flashed a smiley icon and jumped up into the striker, stumbling slightly. Dambree got in, moving to each soldier. Most of the rifles were gone, vanished in the tumbling wreck, but she found two of them. She found three pistols, jamming one in her waistband, then carried them all out.

"Put those in the trunk," she said.

"Dambree, you're robbing the dead," her uncle protested.

"I know," Dambree said. She kept speaking as she turned away. "They don't need it any more."

Mister Mewmew located the two survival packs and the first aid kit and it took a few minutes for Dambree to get them loose. She set them near Elu and moved on to the next striker. Then the next.

As her relatives carried the last of the scavenged supplies back Dambree knelt down next to Mister Mewmew and held out the pistol she'd tucked in her waistband.

"Can you unlock it?" She asked.

Mister Mewmew nuzzled the pistol for a moment and it suddenly felt warm in her hand.

--coding-- appeared on the digital display on the side. --patterned-- appeared. Then, finally: --synched--

"Lock," Dambree said.

The pistol's light on the side went to red.

Dambree sighed, tucking it back into her waistband. She knelt down next to the one she had taken the pistol from, looking over his belt. After a moment she managed to get it off of the dead Terran. It was really big on her waist, but she got it tightened down.

The pistol clicked as it attached to the belt.

"Thank you," Dambree said softly, staring at the dead Terrans. She turned away and started walking back to the car, Mister Mewmew keeping up with her. He still limped slightly, but not as bad as before they had been 'rescued' the year before.

Tru climbed around the sleeping Nee, sitting in the passenger seat, as Dambree got in and locked the doors. Dambree turned around and looked at everyone. Everyone but Elu stared back, frightened.

"Everyone get on the floorboards," Dambree said. "It's dark. They mostly come out at night."

"Mostly," Elu said, sliding down on the floorboards.

"There's no room," Meglee said.

"Make room, Meg," Dambree said, putting the car back into drive.

"How much longer?" Ellie asked.

"A day, maybe a day and a half, depending on what we run into. We should get there all right," Dambree said. "I'll drop all of you off at the cabin and while you're unloading the car I'll go rob the store again."

"You shouldn't steal," Ellaf said, his nine year old voice firm.

"I know," Dambree said.

The car went silent again as Dambree drove through the darkness. One by one everyone but Mister Mewmew and Dambree went to sleep. Tru was leaned against the seat, snoring and drooling. Nobody was on the seats, even Nee was on the floorboards down with Tru.

Dambree cracked open another can of Liquid Hate and slugged down a good third of it.

She couldn't afford to get tired.

She had been on the road for a little over three hours when she came around a corner and saw it for the first time.

Everything wavered. For a second there was no road, just grass, then it wavered again while the car shuddered over the grass. People were crying out as Dambree hit the gas pedal and everything wavered again. Trees appeared and Dambree barely managed to avoid slamming into a tree, the bark flying as the wheels went over the roots and the trunk scraped against the side of the car with a scream.

It wavered again, the highway returning.

Dambree pulled the wheel as the car scraped against the concrete barrier in the middle, sparks showering up. The windows on the driver's side of the car all shattered.

That wasn't what Dambree was swearing at.

Dozens, hundreds of stilters suddenly stood up, appearing out of thin air.

She shot through two of the fliers, then a third, then a fourth. The last one felt like the car was driving through molasses, and with a sudden pop the rear bumper of the car tore free, stuck inside the flier.

Dambree whipped the wheel, getting off the freeway and into the mellitgrain field, the car bumping and thumping over the furrows.

"Elu, are they following?" Dambree called out.

"I can't..." Elu called out. "No."

A pair of Third Telkan strikers roared by overhead.

"EVERYONE DOWN!" Dambree screamed out, turning so they were running at a 45 degree angle to the highway.

Flashes lit up the night behind them, and the "BRAAAAAP" of the Telkan strikers was loud. Explosions roared and large flaming clouds rose up behind them.

Dambree pressed the accellerator harder, trying to push it through the floor as the car got above 60 kph jumping across the furrows.

Lasers snapped by overhead. The screech of particle beams tore at the night sky.

The strikers came around for another pass even as the door guns hammered at the Atrekna combat vehicles.

Dambree shot out of the grain, across a road, and back into the grain. She whipped the wheel, feeling the vehicle shudder, and pulled around in a fishhook to get back onto the dirt road.

A slorpy flier went by, then another, then a trio. Four more went by overhead cut lights connected them to the pursuing striker. The slorpie flier shuddered and shook, explosions flashing out on its hull as the striker punished it with its forward 30mm chain gun. Debris, shards of armor, and flaming internals showered down around the car.

The fliers peeled off and the striker followed, still firing.

Expended shell casings bounced off the roof of the car, off the windshield, off the hood.

Dambree kept going, remembering last time. How the slorpies had pulled her mother out of the car.

She had the car up to 90 kph, the engine screaming as it was pushed past what the governor would normally allow, past manufacturer recommended tolerances.

Another slorpie flight went by, pursued by a striker, and more shell casings rained from the sky.

Her cousins screamed in fear.

Dambree was looking in the rearview mirror and saw the landscape back at the freeway waver again.

"MORE COMING!" Elu yelled out. He was on his knees on the back seat, looking out the rearview window.

Dambree saw it up ahead. A farmhouse. Not lit, but that didn't matter to her.

She whipped off the road, heading straight through the grain. The car slowed, bumping over the furrows, almost got high centered twice, but Dambree just gritted her teeth and willed the car to keep going.

She hit something, something hidden in the grain. Things slammed against the side of the car, things jumped on the roof. She couldn't get a good look at them, they were blurry, but looked like crystal eggs set in a crown with six legs and waving sawblades.

The front tire blew out but Dambree kept the accelerator down.

The car thumped over something else, a clanking noise starting from under the car, but it still moved.

The headlights had shattered, but Dambree kept going, steering toward where she could glimpse the farm house now and then.

When the grain vanished Dambree let off the pedal, slowing the car down.

A Slorpie stilter and two fliers were circling the house.

"Everyone shut up," Tru hissed.

Dambree slowly moved the car behind the bar and shut it off.

"Nobody look up, nobody speak," Dambree said softly as she slid under the dash, sitting on the floorboards. She pulled the pistol off the belt. "Unlock," she whispered.

The telltales went green.

Four times Dambree heard screams. Once one of the stilters gave out a trumpeting cry.

Someone screamed right afterwards for a long moment before it suddenly cut off.

A striker roared by, guns hammering, and Dambree heard the stilter and the fliers either run from it or chase it.

She slowly counted to a hundred and got up on the seat. The engine ground several times before it whirred to life. She put it in gear, having to move the lever three times before it would lock in, and pressed on the pedal.

The car clunked and shuddered, the engine RPM's ran up, but the car started to slowly crawl forward.

They came around the barn and Dambree slowly drove it in a circle around the house, looking at the house through the empty windowframe.

Three vehicles. One a large one. One medium. One a little smaller than the one she had now.

Dambree parked next to the medium one and shut off the car, which was beginning to smell like burning plastic and rubber.

"Stay here," Dambree ordered.

Nobody argued except Mister Mewmew let out a mrawrow and clambered over the seats.

They'd all seen the boy missing the top of his head laying discarded on the lawn.

Dambree held the pistol in her hand as she headed toward the house. In her other hand she held the remainder of the can of Liquid Hate, sipping at it.

She searched each room slowly, finding nothing but the dead, holes in the walls where people had been yanked out by the stilter and the fliers. She covered the bodies with jackets or pajama tops or shirts.

She pulled the blankets and sheets off the beds, putting the pillows in the middle so it made up a carry bag, and set each bundle in the hallway.

In the parent's room she stopped, slowly turning and looking.

There was a cradle there.

She slowly turned and looked through the room.

The blankets had been pulled off the bed to fall next to it, on the side facing the hole in the wall

Her guts clenching, she knelt down and looked.

Bright amber eyes looked back, a suckie in the baby's mouth.

Dambree closed her eyes for a moment and breathed a sigh of relief. She reached in, grabbing the baby's foot and pulling it out. It glared at her, kicking at her.

Young enough it was still mostly feral.

Dambree picked the baby up by the back of the sleeper and slowly walked outside. She stopped next to the front door, looking at the keys on the hooks. She sighed, clipped the pistol to the belt, and just grabbed all four sets of keys.

She walked out, moving over to the car. She handed the baby in through the window. Aunt Fenn took it, flicked it on the nose when it tried to kick her with both feet, then looked away from Dambree.

Dambree went through, checking the vehicles.

She could get everyone into the littlest one, pack everything they had into it, but everyone would be crammed in tightly. The medium would would be a little better.

She didn't bother with the big one.

Big meant they could see you easier.

The littlest one only had a 35% charge. The medium one was topped off. The big one was at 10%.

That made up her mind for her.

Dambree walked back to the car, leaning in.

"Unload everything from the car and put it in the green one," Dambree ordered. "Tru, you oversee. Elu, Ellie, Uncle Inkee, follow me."

"You're not going to rob these poor people's house, are you?" Uncle Inkee asked.

"Just do as she says, Kee," Aunt Fenn said, staring at the baby. "Just... just do what she says."

"We don't have long. Another group will come by and we won't get lucky," Dambree said.

She led her uncle and cousin into the house.

With the pistol in her hand.