"I'll help you. I'll do anything you say to get you through.'
"Great."
"After all, if Boston goes, then we go too."
"You bet."
Then they didn't say much more.
There was violence in the skies, and after that came darkness and quiet.
When Tanner awoke, it was morning, and the storm had ceased. He repaired himself to the rear of the vehicle and after that assumed the driver's seat once more.
Cornelia did not awaken as he gunned the engine to life and started up the weed-infested slope of the hillside.
The sky was light once more, and the road was strewn with rubble. Tanner wove along it, heading toward the pale sun, and after a while Cornelia stretched.
"Ungh," she said, and Tanner agreed. "My shoulders are better now," he told her.
"Good," and Tanner headed up a hill, slowing as the day dimmed and one huge black line became the Devil's highway down the middle of the sky.
As he drove through a wooded valley, the rain began to fall. The girl had returned from the rear of the vehicle and was preparing breakfast when Tanner saw the tiny dot on the horizon, switched over to his telescopic lenses, and tried to outrun what he saw.
Cornelia looked up.
There were bikes, bikes, and more bikes on their trail.
"Those your people?" Tanner asked.
"No. You took mine yesterday."
"Too bad," said Tanner, and he pushed the accelerator to the floor and hoped for a storm.
They squealed around a curve and climbed another hill. His pursuers drew nearer. He switched back from telescopic to normal scanning, but even then he could see the size of the crowd that approached.
"It must be the Kings," she said. "They're the biggest club around."
"Too bad," said Tanner.
"For them or for us?
"Both."
She smiled. "I'd like to see how you work this thing."
"It looks like you're going to get a chance. They're gaining on us like mad."
The rain lessened, but the fogs grew heavier. Tanner could see their lights, though, over a quarter-mile to his rear, and he did not turn his own on. He estimated a hundred to a hundred-fifty pursuers that cold, dark morning, and he asked, "How near are we to Boston?"
"Maybe ninety miles," she told him.
"Too bad they're chasing us instead of coming toward us from the front," he said, as he primed his flames and set an adjustment which brought cross-hairs into focus on his rearview screen.
"What's that?" she asked.
"That's a cross. I'm going to crucify them, lady," and she smiled at this and squeezed his arm.
"Can I help? I hate those bloody mothers."
"In a little while," said Tanner. "In a little while, I'm sure," and he reached into the rear seat and fetched out the six hand grenades and hung them on his wide, black belt. He passed the rifle to the girl. "Hang on to this," he said, and he stuck the .45 behind his belt. "Do you know how to use that thing?"
"Yes," she replied.
"Good."
He kept watching the lights that danced on the screen.
"Why the hell doesn't this storm break?" he said, as the lights came closer and he could make out shapes within the fog.
When they were within a hundred feet, he fired the first grenade. It arced through the gray air, and five seconds later there was a bright flash to his rear, burning within a thunderclap.
The lights immediately behind him remained, and he touched the fifty-calibers, moving the cross-hairs from side to side. The guns stuttered their loud syllables, and he launched another grenade. With the second flash, he began to climb another hill.
"Did you stop them?"
"For a time, maybe. I still see some lights, but they're farther back."
After five minutes, they had reached the top, a place where the fogs were cleared and the dark sky was visible above them. Then they started downward once more, and a wall of stone and shale and dirt rose to their right. Tanner considered it as they descended.
When the road leveled and he decided they had reached the bottom, he turned on his brightest lights and looked for a place where the road's shoulders were wide.
To his rear, there were suddenly rows of descending lights.
He found the place where the road was sufficiently wide, and he skidded through a U-turn until he was facing the shaggy cliff, now to his left, and his pursuers were coming dead on.
He elevated his rockets, fired one, elevated them five degrees more, fired two, elevated them another five degrees, fired three. Then he lowered them fifteen and fired another.
There were brightnesses within the fog, and he heard the stones rattling on the road and felt the vibration as the rockslide began. He swung toward his right as he backed the vehicle and fired two ahead. There was dust mixed with the fog now, and the vibration continued.
He turned and headed forward once more.
"I hope that'll hold 'em," he said, and he lit two ciga rettes and passed one to the girl.
After five minutes they were on higher ground again, and the winds came and whipped at the fog, and far to the rear there were still some lights.
As they topped a high rise, his radiation gauge began to register an above-normal reading. He sought in all directions and saw the crater far off ahead. "That's it," he heard her say. "You've got to leave the road there. Bear to the right and go around that way when you get there."