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"What the hell was that?" Valentine asked, the boom still echoing in his ears.
"A big firework, sorta. Scares the worms. They're trying to make the mounts bolt."
Valentine saw one worm humping as it headed down the road, a rider raising dust as he was dragged. The others had their mounts under control, more or less, and turned them toward the barn.
Another rocket exploded, but it only served to hurry the legworms in the direction they were already going. Zak reached their campsite.
"Get on!" Valentine called. "We've got to ride out of here. Where's Price?"
"I don't know," Ahn-Kha said. "Still off with his mule." Valentine helped the others up.
Bee looked alarmed, and refused to mount. She let out a shriek into the night. Ahn-Kha barked something at her and reached out, but she slapped his hand away and ran off toward the road.
"I'll drop you off with the kids in the cover-field," Zak said. "You'll be safe there."
"Take us to the fight," Valentine said.
"The Dispatcher-"
"The Dispatcher's going to need every gun," Valentine said. "We've got three. Right?" He looked over his shoulder at Duvalier and Ahn-Kha.
Anh-Kha nodded. He had his cannon and Price's Kalashnikov. Duvalier patted her shotgun. "I'm happy to plant a few bobcats."
"Wildcats," Zak said.
"Then let's get online."
Valentine looked down at his U-gun. The only ammunition he had for it was Everready's 5.56mm. He wished he had a real sniper load. He looked at Duvalier's shotgun. The Mossberg would be useless in anything but a close-quarters fight. "Ali, take Price's rifle."
"Be sparing," Ahn-Kha said. "There is only one magazine."
"Where's the rest?"
"In boxes." Ahn-Kha rummaged around in the battle satchel that contained spare bullets and gear for his gun, and handed him the box.
Cookie and Gibson joined them and the legworm slid quickly down the hill to where the other riders were gathering. Cookie had his ear to a headset, coming from a handcrank-charged portable radio.
Another rocket exploded over the massive barn. Yellow-white sparks ran down the tin roof.
"They're good with the fuses over there. Probably been cutting them all day. So you're a brother rider now," Gibson added to Valentine.
"Seems like," Valentine said. Zak lined up his legworm behind another. Just behind them, in the center of the column of legworms, the Dispatcher waved a flashlight. The column turned and the legworms went single-file up toward the barn.
"If we go to battle line you, the girl, and the Grog can cling to the cargo netting," Zak said. "Keep your heads down."
Valentine learned what battle line was as soon as they crested the hill and turned their line north. Another sky-cracking explosion over the barn sent a legworm humping over from the other side of the hill, its riders hanging on for their lives. The line of battle-ready legworms twitched, but stayed in station front to back.
"They're coming. Flank facing offside," Cookie called, listening to his headset.
Zak and his team slid off the top of their worm, as did riders all along the battle line, digging their hooks, goads, and spikes into the thick patches of dead flesh. Women and teenage boys with rifles, hooks looped around their chests and attached to their ankles, joined the fighting line, adding their guns.
The column moved in the direction the fleeing legworm had just abandoned. Valentine readied himself for what would be on the reverse slope of the hill when they topped it.
Cookie slapped his thigh, headset to his ear. "Zak, we got 'em. They're in the field, not halfway across, in open order."
Cheers and foxhunting hallos broke out all across the Dispatcher's line of legworms as the news spread.
Zak's mount crested the hill and came down the other side, turning slightly as it followed the worm directly ahead.
