Vanessa, her sides heaving with exertion, dodged around a tree and kept right on running, knowing that to falter the trip at this point would mean certain death.
"Geez," she groused to herself. "You'd think I pissed these guys off or somethin'."
Machine gun fire made Vanessa dive over a log and keep rolling, back up to her feet, until she realized the bullets weren't even coming close to her. An explosion lit up the night, followed by a horrendous bellowing roar of pain and anger.
"What the hell?!" she shouted.
Another explosion, this one a rattling bang like several smaller explosions rolling into one, followed by a horrendous crashing noise and a weak, gurgled hiss.
"Alright, what the heck is goin' on back there? Incompetent I figured, but terminally stupid?"
The lead cycle crashed through the underbrush just behind Vanessa, spurring her to redouble her running efforts and set aside her thinking efforts, at least for now. She spun easily, tossing her four spiked knife out behind her at an upward angle, and continuing her spin until she was reoriented forward, still running. The silvered, deadly bit of spinning metal flashed almost lazily upward, catching the rushing machine straight in its front tire.
All the laws of physics and ballistics stood up and clambered indignantly at once. A five ounce bit of metal tossed by a 30 year old woman, when colliding with a tire with a five inch plate of rubber and metal hubcaps, by all rights should have no appreciable effect.
Reality told all those laws to shut up, because this was her knife, the legendary weapon made especially for impossible situations, being thrown by a "ninja" who had taken part in the destruction of the most indestructible empire ever to live.
The laws of physics and ballistics sat down and glared sullenly at the girl in question, muttering something to the effect of, "I'll get you yet."
Back in the real world, the deadly knife passed through the cycle's tire like it was made of paper, slamming out an eighteen inch diameter hole in the back of the tire, and splattering the hapless pilot with old tar, dirt and worse.
About a split second later the cycle flipped end over end and crushed both it and the gunner beneath its several ton bulk.
"Hell yeah!" Vanessa pumped her--admittedly sore--fist.
Her victory dance was cut horrifically short.
The laws of physics and ballistics grinned predatorily.
For after having ripped a five ton cycle's front tire, the deadly knife had somehow managed to get itself lodged in a fifteen foot diameter tree, and was not returning to Vanessa's grasp.
About that moment, the last cycle broke into the clearing. Vanessa gulped, turned to run, and her foot caught a blasted root and she ended up flat on her ass staring up at five tons of metal, with a pilot grinning his ass off staring down at her.
"Goddamn it! The laws of physics must hate me!" she shouted, struggling to get her blasted foot loose.
Yup. The laws of ballistics too.
***
Joe spent the next few seconds leaping from tree limb to tree limb, high above where the action was taking place. He witnessed Vanessa's magnificent throw, as well as her ignoble defeat at the hands of a tree root, and settled himself in the crook of the tree, snapping his gun calmly but amazingly, inhumanly, quickly into a firing position. Wetting his finger, he slipped the gun-sight up into position and gathered his breath.
No time to gauge the distance. Going to have to guess-timate, Joe thought to himself, About 75 yards. Slight bit of windage, too short a distance but the target is moving about 20 miles an hour.. bullet drop should be negligible over that distance...
All of these thoughts and a few more flickered by in less than a second as he took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and between breaths, squeezed the trigger.
Just as the cycle began to charge, intent on crushing Vanessa into a more or less pancaked shape.
***
Vanessa had exhausted her options and was about to just ditch her damn shoe when the bandit got tired of playing with her and gunned his engine, forcing the beast forward. Vanessa blinked, paled and struggled with her shoe.
Aw, Shi--
Her thoughts were cut short as a strangely familiar gunshot boomed through the night.
The pilot, intent on urging his cycle forward, never heard the shot. Of course, the heavy caliber long rifle's bullet traveled at supersonic speeds, and the distance was far too short for him to hear anything before the bullet reached the target.
Since the target was the back of his skull, it hardly mattered if he heard it anyway. The heavy caliber, armor piercing methyl jacketed bullet passed through his head, his face did an impression of the Mt. St. Helen's eruption, and the bullet continued through, burying itself deep in the "spinal column" of the charging metal cycle.
The laws of ballistics may hate Vanessa, but they love Joe Hardy like a brother.
The cycle suddenly lost the ability to stand and rode suddenly, forward momentum causing it to slide forward until the build up of dirt around its wide front created enough resistance to slow it to a stop.
Its front tire rested a scant five inches from a startled woman's nose.
She blinked several times at it, staring cross-eyed.
"Hoo boy. Might need a change of shorts after that one," she muttered quietly to herself.
Amazingly, her sneaker chose that exact moment to come loose from its hiding place.
She stared at it irritably for a moment before standing up and brushing herself off.
Climbing atop the cycle she walked its length from front to back, and peered into the gloom. Someone had been helping her out there...someone who had fired that achingly familiar shot. She just couldn't place it though. Come to think of it, there had been four cycles after her...where were the rest of them?
A light flapping noise caught her attention and she jerked back, glancing upward. A tall figure dropped down on top of the metal about three feet in front of her, all menacing blue eyes and cloak. She yelped and swung a roundhouse kick at it in reflex.
'It', in an un-amused fashion, caught her kick and stared down her leg at her.
She blinked, then amazement flooded her face. "Joey? I-Is... that you?"
Joe closed his eyes and sighed, releasing her foot. He really hated that nickname.
Vanessa waved her arms a little, off balance from the way Joe had suddenly released her foot and took a couple of steps back. Recovering her balance, she stared at him in shock. Of all the people she'd expected to see here, Joe was about the last one. Even later then Andrea, Frank and even the Pope, and that was saying something, because she wasn't even sure who the Pope was, just that it was more likely she'd see him here than Joe.
Joe, for his part, simply un-holstered his gun and stepped past her while her shocked brain struggled to come to terms with his sudden appearance.
He glanced over the side of the cycle and noted the pilot slumped over, a large hole where his head should be. If he felt any satisfaction of the amazing display of his marksmanship, he showed no sign. He turned his gaze to a machine-gunner. The man's pale, shock-ridden face came into view, his breathing labored. He had a bloody streak running from one temple, and he struggled to orient his hopelessly damaged machine gun at Joe.
Vanessa caught none of this.
"Hey Joey...long time no see, yeah I'm doing fine, so what brings you to Apalachicola?"
He stared down at the bandit, lost in thought, apparently not listening to her.
"In the middle of the forest?"
He appeared to come to a decision.
"At night?"
In one smooth motion he pointed the revolver at the downed bandit and pulled the trigger, sending the man into the afterlife.
Vanessa stared at him, open mouthed, her eyes wide. "Geez! Joey...that guy couldn't do anything to us. Why'd you have to--"
Joe looked at her coldly. "Were we going to carry him, with two broken legs, and where exactly?"
She blinked. "Er..."
"Or leave him here...helpless...for the forest beasts." He continued to stare at her, his face less expressive than a brick wall.
She frowned. This was the most she'd ever heard from Joe in a long while. He was right, in a coldly efficient, ultra-pragmatic sort of way. How very...Josephy of him.
As with any argument she was destined to lose, she switched tactics.
"You haven't answered my question, Joey...What are you out here for?"
He holstered his rifle and stared at her fully.
"You," he said, calmly.
She blinked.
Ok...that's not exactly the answer I was looking for. Why does this answer not suddenly fill me with confidence? She thought warily.
Joe waited for her to make the first move.
