Descending Road - SHE WASN'T FAST ENOUGH by Dana W. Paxson

SHE WASN’T FAST ENOUGH

1561 4D

“Get out,” Ezzar ordered the van driver. Her partner Andresko pointed a beamer at the man’s head. The driver pulled the door handle, and she stepped back.

A whole load of guns and beam cartridges; this hijacking on a hill road dampened by spring showers was a lot easier than the firefight they’d had two days ago. She breathed and waited for the driver to step down.

Four armed men leaped from the van‘s rear. An explosion rent the air; her partner’s gun blew apart as he fried in a heat beam. The gun’s pieces rattled and rained about her as she lanced the driver with a beamshot, dived and rolled into the road’s shallow ditch, firing as she fell; another heat blast raked her left arm and knee and withered the swampgrass she landed in.

The corpos had been warned.

Cries of pain told her she had caught at least two of them in her fire. She wriggled deeper in the grass and the muck, trying not to leave signs of passage, and then lay still under a steeple of reeds, feeling the cartfeed on her beamer for blockage. It was all right. She waited for many breaths, hearing nothing except the distant gasps of the corpos she’d shot.

The gasps stopped. A van motor started. They couldn’t be leaving. She started to move, then froze — they’d be watching for that. The mud covered her thighs. She raised herself just enough to see the top of the van. Two heads stood in front of it, facing her, looking down at the mud in front of her hiding place. She dropped down again. They’d seen her.

As fast as she was, she couldn’t kill both of them before she’d be fried herself. She ground her way down in the mud. Now, before they moved closer. In one quick motion, she came to crouch, fired at the van‘s powercell, and tried to bury her face in the muck.

She wasn’t fast enough. The van detonated; she was lifted and flung through the air at least twenty long strides, slamming against a sandstone outcrop that overlooked the road. Blackness closed on her.

Story List	SURPRISE ME	Author Page
USER SURVEY	PUZZLE ME	MAKE ELM MARK

HOVER Lucida Bright BARE	HOVER Lucida Bright FULL	HOVER Palatino Linotype BARE
HOVER Palatino Linotype FULL	HOVER Times New Roman BARE	HOVER Times New Roman FULL
PAD Arial BARE	PAD Arial FULL	PAD Lucida Bright BARE
PAD Lucida Bright FULL	PAD Times New Roman BARE	PAD Times New Roman FULL


	SHE WASN’T FAST ENOUGH 1561 4D “Get out,” Ezzar ordered the van driver. Her partner Andresko pointed a beamer at the man’s head. The driver pulled the door handle, and she stepped back. A whole load of guns and beam cartridges; this hijacking on a hill road dampened by spring showers was a lot easier than the firefight they’d had two days ago. She breathed and waited for the driver to step down. Four armed men leaped from the van‘s rear. An explosion rent the air; her partner’s gun blew apart as he fried in a heat beam. The gun’s pieces rattled and rained about her as she lanced the driver with a beamshot, dived and rolled into the road’s shallow ditch, firing as she fell; another heat blast raked her left arm and knee and withered the swampgrass she landed in. The corpos had been warned. Cries of pain told her she had caught at least two of them in her fire. She wriggled deeper in the grass and the muck, trying not to leave signs of passage, and then lay still under a steeple of reeds, feeling the cartfeed on her beamer for blockage. It was all right. She waited for many breaths, hearing nothing except the distant gasps of the corpos she’d shot. The gasps stopped. A van motor started. They couldn’t be leaving. She started to move, then froze — they’d be watching for that. The mud covered her thighs. She raised herself just enough to see the top of the van. Two heads stood in front of it, facing her, looking down at the mud in front of her hiding place. She dropped down again. They’d seen her. As fast as she was, she couldn’t kill both of them before she’d be fried herself. She ground her way down in the mud. Now, before they moved closer. In one quick motion, she came to crouch, fired at the van‘s powercell, and tried to bury her face in the muck. She wasn’t fast enough. The van detonated; she was lifted and flung through the air at least twenty long strides, slamming against a sandstone outcrop that overlooked the road. Blackness closed on her.