Special case. Part one
Three nimble cars rushed around Jones like noisy flies. They did not stop for a second. The Engineer thought that he could just let go of the steering wheel and stand still — and the opponents would keep kicking up the dust.
— Guys, I'm tired already! Let's get this over with. I'll leave with the damn box, and you'll get out in one piece! — the Engineer yelled at all radio frequencies.
The strangers didn't bother to answer.
— As you wish, — Jones said wearily, reluctantly activating the remaining weapons. One of the opponents slowed down, feeling the threat, but the other two only fiercely rushed into battle, not trying to make any plans.
— Idiots, — Jones sighed.
Dealing with them turned out to be painfully simple. Jones was sure that some kids were the drivers in those cars. Too arrogant for experienced fighters. One basically killed himself when he allowed the tracks to fall into a crevice and get stuck under a hail of bullets. Another tried to ram him like a madman, quickly lost the armour plates, underestimating the strength of Jones' car, and meekly exploded, scattering pieces of metal around him. The third one realized that things were bad and just ran away. Jones was grateful to him.
And all this because of a box of uranium ore.
When the car of the escaped raider disappeared in the distance, Jones slid into the quarry and slowed down to take a breath. The water in his flask was almost hot.
The yellow disk crawled to its zenith, and Jones, glancing at the map, headed for the gathering place. The half-destroyed shield hit the hull every time the car bounced on some rocks. Jones cursed and brought the car to the side, where the roads were smoother.
— Forgive me, girl. They hit you out right after the repairs, — the mechanic muttered, throwing an almost amorous glance at the dashboard. The damn box gleamed in the rearview mirror, tightly pulled to the seat by a belt.
Jones understood why Duncan made an appointment away from the inhabited Wasteland, on the border with anomaly zones. In such a wilderness, you can only run into a freak from the Order of the fallen star or a travelling gadgeteer. Duncan always loved secluded places.
In the middle of the road, when the polished solar disk was just about ready to dive beyond the horizon, the excitement of battle died down and the engineer was able to think clearly. Jones picked arguments, chose words, not knowing how to express his concerns. Should the Engineers deal with Dawn's Children? Jones did not want to bury his comrades because of other people's ambitions again.
His thoughts were interrupted by the chirping radio:
— Jones, this is Foxy! Do you read me?
The signal was clear — she was close.
— Loud and clear, Foxy. I'm getting closer to you. Did something happen? Over.
— Just checking if your ass is still in one piece. Over.
— It's as good as it's ever been, dear. Is Duncan with you? Over.
— No, he will come later. I'm waiting for you. Over and out.
— Over and out, — Jones grinned, reaching for the dashboard and twisting the vernier on the receiver with a bang. Maybe the “Dawn” gadgets will still come in handy.
Soon a column of smoke appeared in the distance, and Jones smiled.
To be continued…
