on the chain behind —
Clang. It sideswipes a street sign, knocks it flat —
Clung. It glances off a traffic light junction box then shimmies back into the middle of the road.
~ * ~
Billy sees the truck make the turn and immediately knows what he must do. He swerves the Vespa hard left and plunges into a narrow street that runs parallel to the road the truck turned down. He guns the little engine, then turns hard right down an even narrower lane. It’s clear of traffic —
An older gentleman hobbles onto a zebra crossing to the right.
Woh! Billy swerves around him.
The old bloke raises a fist. ‘Ass clown!’
And quite right, he should be annoyed, that was too close. Billy shouts back at him. ‘Sorry —!’
A van backs out of a driveway to the left.
Woh! Billy swerves around it.
Jeezelouise.
He rides on, takes a deep breath, focuses on the intersection ahead. He doesn’t have a plan so much as a general idea of what he wants to achieve. He just needs to be careful of that guy wearing the red helmet who’s perched behind the truck’s cabin.
Billy reaches the intersection and sees the truck thunder along the road from the right. It’s near.
Crunch. The armoured car sideswipes a taxi. It thumps onto the footpath and narrowly misses a group of teenagers.
Christ, that was close.
Billy grits his teeth. He needs to stop these pricks before they kill someone. He guns the Vespa and shoots straight towards the truck’s cabin, pulls up beside it. He can just make out someone wearing a black helmet through the tinted passenger window. The man looks straight ahead and doesn’t appear to notice Billy.
Billy glances back, can see no sign of the red-helmeted guy, then takes in the truck’s large cylinder-shaped petrol tank beside him. That’ll work nicely. He grabs hold of it, clicks the Vespa’s gearbox into neutral, then wedges the right side of the scooter’s handlebars between the bodywork and the tank so the bike freewheels along beside the truck.
He places his right foot on the petrol tank’s step, grabs the handle on the side of the cabin and levers himself up. He presses his body flat against the bodywork, hands splayed for maximum surface contact, then shuffles towards the rear of the cabin. The moment he reaches it he’ll need to subdue Mr Red. The upside is that he has the element of surprise on his side. The downside is that he has no weapon if Mr Red isn’t easily surprised.
He reaches the rear of the cabin and looks back. He can see where the metal chains that drag the armoured car are looped around the fifth wheel but he can see no sign of the bloke —
Mr Red rises from behind the fifth wheel, a nine-millimetre pistol in hand.
‘Oh shit —’
Bam. He fires as Billy swings back to the side of the cabin.
Thud. The bullet thumps into the bodywork.
So much for the element of surprise. Now what?
A flash of sunlight off a windscreen to the right. Billy pivots towards it.
Oh no.
A tram thunders straight towards the truck—and Billy. Its wheels lock up and squeal as the stunned driver attempts an emergency stop.
The tram slows.
It’s going to miss the truck —
But it won’t miss the armoured car.
This is going to be bad.
Wham. The tram slams into the rear of the armoured car.
Smash. The tram’s front windscreen detonates in a shower of glass. The armoured car shudders, then continues on its way —
Twang. The impact sends a giant tremor along the steel chains and vibrates the truck like a giant tuning fork —
Billy is jerked sideways. He watches Mr Red throw out his gun hand to steady himself against the fifth wheel —
Clank. He misses and knocks the weapon from his hand.
The truck shudders again.
Woh! Billy overbalances and drops to the roadway below —
Hey! He catches hold of one of the chains, the steel-cap toes
Clang. It sideswipes a street sign, knocks it flat —
Clung. It glances off a traffic light junction box then shimmies back into the middle of the road.
~ * ~
Billy sees the truck make the turn and immediately knows what he must do. He swerves the Vespa hard left and plunges into a narrow street that runs parallel to the road the truck turned down. He guns the little engine, then turns hard right down an even narrower lane. It’s clear of traffic —
An older gentleman hobbles onto a zebra crossing to the right.
Woh! Billy swerves around him.
The old bloke raises a fist. ‘Ass clown!’
And quite right, he should be annoyed, that was too close. Billy shouts back at him. ‘Sorry —!’
A van backs out of a driveway to the left.
Woh! Billy swerves around it.
Jeezelouise.
He rides on, takes a deep breath, focuses on the intersection ahead. He doesn’t have a plan so much as a general idea of what he wants to achieve. He just needs to be careful of that guy wearing the red helmet who’s perched behind the truck’s cabin.
Billy reaches the intersection and sees the truck thunder along the road from the right. It’s near.
Crunch. The armoured car sideswipes a taxi. It thumps onto the footpath and narrowly misses a group of teenagers.
Christ, that was close.
Billy grits his teeth. He needs to stop these pricks before they kill someone. He guns the Vespa and shoots straight towards the truck’s cabin, pulls up beside it. He can just make out someone wearing a black helmet through the tinted passenger window. The man looks straight ahead and doesn’t appear to notice Billy.
Billy glances back, can see no sign of the red-helmeted guy, then takes in the truck’s large cylinder-shaped petrol tank beside him. That’ll work nicely. He grabs hold of it, clicks the Vespa’s gearbox into neutral, then wedges the right side of the scooter’s handlebars between the bodywork and the tank so the bike freewheels along beside the truck.
He places his right foot on the petrol tank’s step, grabs the handle on the side of the cabin and levers himself up. He presses his body flat against the bodywork, hands splayed for maximum surface contact, then shuffles towards the rear of the cabin. The moment he reaches it he’ll need to subdue Mr Red. The upside is that he has the element of surprise on his side. The downside is that he has no weapon if Mr Red isn’t easily surprised.
He reaches the rear of the cabin and looks back. He can see where the metal chains that drag the armoured car are looped around the fifth wheel but he can see no sign of the bloke —
Mr Red rises from behind the fifth wheel, a nine-millimetre pistol in hand.
‘Oh shit —’
Bam. He fires as Billy swings back to the side of the cabin.
Thud. The bullet thumps into the bodywork.
So much for the element of surprise. Now what?
A flash of sunlight off a windscreen to the right. Billy pivots towards it.
Oh no.
A tram thunders straight towards the truck—and Billy. Its wheels lock up and squeal as the stunned driver attempts an emergency stop.
The tram slows.
It’s going to miss the truck —
But it won’t miss the armoured car.
This is going to be bad.
Wham. The tram slams into the rear of the armoured car.
Smash. The tram’s front windscreen detonates in a shower of glass. The armoured car shudders, then continues on its way —
Twang. The impact sends a giant tremor along the steel chains and vibrates the truck like a giant tuning fork —
Billy is jerked sideways. He watches Mr Red throw out his gun hand to steady himself against the fifth wheel —
Clank. He misses and knocks the weapon from his hand.
The truck shudders again.
Woh! Billy overbalances and drops to the roadway below —
Hey! He catches hold of one of the chains, the steel-cap toes
Similar Books
Dare to Be Different
Nicole O'Dell
The Courier's New Bicycle
Kim Westwood
The Witch Hunter's Tale
Sam Thomas
Windfalls: A Novel
Jean Hegland
The Last Song
Nicholas Sparks
Picture Cook
Katie Shelly
Cameo Lake
Susan Wilson
Technosis: The Kensington Virus
Morgan Bell
The White Mountains (The Tripods)
John Christopher
Round Robin
Joseph Flynn