But not all the Cavalry has such protection.
The Killer Drone rips into the older-model cars, busting through windows and blowing out tires. One of them spins out of control in a plume of smoke—I see it all happen in slow motion—and I have to swerve quickly to avoid a collision. Are we taking casualties?
Shit just got very real.
“That was way too close!” Blaise howls beside me.
A truck in the middle of our pack skids into a hard U-turn—the designated medic to help retrieve fallen members.
Half the Common has already begun to return fire, but the drone is still winning. It’s bulletproof, just like Duke. So how do we take the thing down?
In answer, Xavier pops out of his car window—someone else must have taken the wheel. He shoots what looks like an extra-large pistol into the air, and a wide net launches from the barrel. The snare almost wraps around the drone but narrowly misses.
My stomach drops.
Blaise places the gun Rayla gave me into my lap. “We have to join the fight,” he says, dramatically cocking his own gun. “There has to be a weak point somewhere.”
But Duke’s gone into Lockdown Mode, making all windows and doors inoperable. I’m on the verge of informing Blaise of this hiccup in his heroic plan when Malik yells from the back seat.
“There’s another one coming from behind!”
From the rearview mirror I see a second Killer Drone approach, twice the size of the first. This one’s loaded with bombs.
“Malik, how many more net guns does your dad have?” I shout, trying hard to remain calm.
“One . . . He gave the third to me,” Malik answers.
Okay, so we can’t miss again. Great odds.
A loud bang yanks my attention back to the front—Xavier has fired off his second net gun. Blaise grabs hold of my arm, and all three of us watch in gut-wrenching silence as the snare rockets through the black sky and wraps itself around the drone, entangling its six propeller blades. For a horrifying moment, it looks like the killer robot will soldier on, but then it sputters and crashes to the ground.
“Yeah, Dad!” Malik whoops.
Blaise lets go of me and fist pumps in victory. I dance my palms across the steering wheel.
Our celebrations are short-lived because the second drone just unloaded a bomb from its belly, obliterating the road a quarter of a mile ahead.
The Common’s line breaks, splitting off into two opposite directions to cut around the massive hole blasted into the earth. I make a quick, tight left turn and drive full throttle into the dried-up field, hoping to stay within sight of Xavier’s car ahead of us, but tornadoes of dirt kicked up by speeding tires makes that wishful thinking. I can’t see a thing. Well, this is dangerous.
“Duke, activate Clarity Windshield Mode,” I say.
Instantly, the entire front window projects what the laser imaging camera at the front of the car sees: a clear path. Flames, fog, dust, this model can see through it all. Even at night.
At least that feature still works.
“All right, that’s cool,” Malik says in awe from the back seat.
Then in one of the greatest pee-my-pants moments of my life, a graphic of a skull that wears a pilot’s cap and goggles and has two black pits for eyes grins horrifyingly at us across every inch of the five-by-three windshield. Its teeth are painted the red, white, and blue of the Lone Star flag of Texas.
“Ahhhh!” we all scream our heads off.
The car’s camera adjusts, zooms out, and regains focus, revealing the whole body of the Killer Drone. The skull is just a sticker on its front, put there by a sadistic Guard to mess with us. It’s working!
The drone flies backward as we race forward, staring us down like we’re in a standoff.
The autonomous gun draws first.
Bam, bam, bam! A volley of bullets ricochets off the front of the car. Then another round, and another, penetrating all four tires.
“We’ve got to take it down!” Blaise yells over the racket. “We have the last net gun.”
Surprising myself, I know exactly what to do. But can we pull it off? Put up or shut up, noob.
“Okay, buckle up, now!” I call out, snapping my own into place.
Here’s to hoping for the best.
I slam on the brake pedal, and it bucks wildly under my foot. Don’t let go. That just means the brakes are doing their job. To stabilize my body, I brace my left foot against the footrest—just like the Internet told me to do when I searched “how to drive a car”—and gently turn the wheel to keep us from spinning out of control. As the car’s speed tapers off, I ease the brakes.
Ninety-five miles per hour to a full stop in three seconds.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alive.
“Duke, initiate Power-Down Mode,” I say, euphoria pumping through my body.
The car shuts down completely—a crazy gamble we have to take to get the locked-down sky roof open.
“Blaise and I will cover you, Malik!” I say, double-quick.
I point to the roof. They nod, understanding my plan.
The dust settles, and it’s go time.
Gripping the cold metal of my gun, I cock it just like I saw Blaise do and then manually slide open the roof’s glass window. Together, the three of us burst out, screaming bloody murder.
Blaise and I open fire, standing on our seats, defending Malik’s flanks, unsure which direction the drone will attack from. Does the thing have an invisibility mode or what?
And then I see it.
Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! Needles hail down from the sky, stabbing into the roof of the car all around us. Tranquilizers.
The drone’s changed tactics. It’s not shooting to kill. It’s shooting to take us prisoner.
That somehow feels even more terrifying.
“Malik, eleven o’clock! Shoot!” I shout, but he’s not beside me anymore. Where the hell did he go?
He’s fallen back into the car with a dart hanging from his neck. The net gun rests useless on his passed-out face.
Not good.
“Keep shooting!” I scream to Blaise, diving for the gun. It’s heavy, and I have no idea how to use it, but it’s try or die.
Stop shaking! I yell at my hands. Right when I pop my head out the sky roof, Blaise shouts, “On your left, get it!”
There’s no time to hesitate. I aim and fire. The net unfurls like a spiderweb, blasting into the night sky with a force that knocks me backward. That felt good. My adrenaline’s through the roof, and I watch supercharged as the Killer Drone’s ten propeller blades are trapped inside the netting. It struggles like a caught fly, then plummets into the field, where it goes dark.
Did that just happen?
Blaise lets out an incoherent holler, and we both jump into a midair hug. It’s kind of like hugging a lukewarm corpse, but I roll with it—emotions are high. Then we remember our friendship is contingent on us despising one another, so we drop back into the car and into our seats like nothing happened.
I turn the car back on and hit the accelerator, gunning east, where I last saw the Cavalry. Punching on my car’s low beams, I weave expertly around random plant things and pesky pits in the ground without sacrificing any speed.
Eventually the road finds us. We veer south again, Blaise and I not saying a word until we see the string of dusty red taillights of our rebel troop.
My heart actually leaps when I pull back into position behind Xavier’s car. For a moment there, I thought I’d be stranded with Blaise and a zonked-out Malik. We kicked ass back there, sure, but who knows what else is waiting for us. Monsters relish the dark.