Free The Ashes of Pompeii (Purge of Babylon, Book 5) by Sam Sisavath Page A

on the front passenger side of the Nissan. The truck dipped slightly just before a second shot rang out and the back passenger tire joined it.
    “Sonsofbitches,” Danny grunted. “And I misplaced my Triple A card, too. Now how are we gonna get to Song Island on just two good tires?”
    “Maybe we have some spares in the trunk?” Annie said.
    Danny looked over at her, then grinned at Gaby. “Captain Optimism, this one.”
    “I thought you were Captain Optimism,” Gaby grinned back.
    “I’ve since decided to relinquish the title. It’s too much work—”
    Crack! A third shot cut Danny off, and they heard the ping! as the bullet pierced the other side of the vehicle.
    It didn’t take long for Gaby to smell it: gasoline.
    She dropped to the ground and looked under the car and saw liquid pouring to the highway on the other side. “Danny, they shot the gas tank.”
    “Oh my God, is the car going to explode?” Annie said, her eyes wide with terror.
    “You watch too many movies,” Danny said. He looked behind them, back down the highway.
    “What is it?” she asked.
    “They’re pinning us down. Probably because they have reinforcements on the way.”
    “Is this why they haven’t been chasing us? Because they knew that sooner or later we’d run into these guys?”
    “Yeah, looks like it,” he nodded. “These buggers are a lot cleverer than I gave them credit for.”
    “Is that a word?” Claire asked.
    “What?” Danny said.
    “‘Cleverer.’ Is that a word?”
    Danny chuckled. “I got a dictionary back at the island. We’ll look it up when we get there, kid.” He looked past her at Gaby. “Let’s hope either the Ford or the Chevy is still drivable, ’cause we’re gonna need a new car if we wanna get there.”
    “How are we going to get to them?” she asked. “They have us pinned down, remember?”
    “Normally this is when I tell Willie boy to come up with a plan, but since he’s not…” Danny didn’t finish. He shook his head instead, the frustration visible on his face for the first time since Route 13. “Goddammit. I told him that plan of his was shit. You heard me, right? But no, he always had to have a plan. Well, shit on my bread and rye. That didn’t work out too well, did it?”
    Gaby wasn’t sure if he was talking to her, the girls, or…someone else.
    “Danny,” she said. “What do we do? How do we get out of here? If they’re content to just pin us down and wait for reinforcements, we can’t just sit here.”
    Danny blinked up at the sun. “At least the weather’s finally nice. I was starting to think this place had only two decent things going for it—bad weather and bad weather.”
    There was enough of a cool breeze that none of them had started sweating yet despite the harried last few seconds. The sudden shift in weather, from insufferably hot to almost chilly, was a strange feeling because it was already making her think about sweaters, or a jacket, or maybe even some thermal socks—
    “Hey! You back there!” a voice shouted. “Can you hear me?”
    It was coming from the guy closest to them, the one behind the divider to their left. Thirty yards? Unless the man had moved further up since she last saw him.
    Danny scooted closer to the front bumper of the Nissan and leaned out briefly, then pulled back a second later.
    “Close?” Gaby asked.
    “Twenty-seven meters, give or take,” Danny said.
    Gaby did the calculations in her head. Twenty-seven meters was…thirty yards. Give or take. So she wasn’t too far off. That surprised and pleased her. Will used to say that combat was like playing sports—after a while, you got so used to the speed and chaos that everything started to slow down.
    Too bad I can’t put this skill on my college resume. Harvard would have been so impressed.
    “Did you see if they were wearing uniforms?” she asked.
    He shook his head. “Too well hidden.”
    “Hey!” the man shouted again. “I asked you a question!”
    “Fuck