The Lost Puzzler Read online

  “No, it’s probably nothing, just a rude trucker, trying to peep into my hull and see if he can undercut my prices,” the Captain explained. But he still looked uneasy and he increased their speed to 240.

  Khan was just settling back into his usual stupor when Sweetheart announced suddenly, “We are being scanned again, two miles behind, five vehicles—shark class of unrecognised type—closing in.” Her voice was calm and pleasant but its effect on the two men was dramatic.

  “Bring up the back shield, turn on the jammer,” the Captain shouted and went into a flurry of activity.

  This time Khan did not make inquiries, instead he turned to Rafik and ordered, “Buckle up.” The coils wraped themselves around Khan and Rafik, who was already pinned to his seat by the sudden increase of speed. He looked around in confusion.

  “What’s going on? Who’s after us?”

  “Looks like highway pirates,” Khan answered briskly and turned to the Captain. “How come you didn’t detect them before?”

  “They were smart,” grunted the Captain. “Shark class can sometimes use a system they call ‘stealth,’ although it costs a huge amount of energy. So they detected us, scanned out of reach, and went in with jammers and stealth.” He turned his head to the screen, which was showing five red dots progressing fast in the lower part of the screen.

  “Sweetheart, increase speed to two ninety. Are they scanning again?” he asked.

  “They are trying to,” answered Sweetheart above the growing hum. “I am blocking them, although it takes seventeen percent more energy, and—”

  “Let them through, briefly, do it as if they found a gap in our defences—let them scan just the hull and then close them off.”

  “Why are you doing that?” shouted Khan. The noise level was now too high to maintain a normal conversation.

  “They are using a lot of power, and I am at half hull and not about to stop, so they might give up if they think it’s not worth spending all their power tubes on the junk I’m hauling.”

  “They are scanning us,” announced Sweetheart, “once . . . twice . . . they have lock . . . closing off gap . . . they are out.”

  The two adults watched the screen with intense concentration. “Come on, roaches,” the Captain whispered under his breath. “I’m not worth it, drop off.”

  “They maintain course, increase speed, a mile off,” announced Sweetheart, “you can see them on the left screen now.”

  The three of them turned their heads and watched the five slick-looking vehicles, flying in arrow formation across the highway. Their metal glinted in the sunlight as they closed the distance between themselves and the SuperTruck.

  “That’s not right,” the Captain said, scratching his beard in bewilderment. “They must realise they’re spending more on driving at this speed than they can possibly get from what I’m hauling.”

  “Captain, their scan was not concentrated on the haul at all,” Sweetheart said. “In fact, they only scanned the cabin and a few auxiliary systems.”

  Both men looked at each other and swore in unison.

  “It’s Jakov,” Khan paled. “How did he find us?”

  “Not too hard, come to think of it.” The Captain pressed many flashing buttons as he answered. “From what you told me, this Jakov of yours had a pretty good idea where you might be heading, and of course he would eventually find the guards who saw us leave Newport. I shouldn’t have hit that oil smear,” he added regretfully, “but he was touching her.”

  “Sharks, half a mile and closing,” announced Sweetheart. “They are entering missile range.”

  Rafik could now clearly see the five vehicles on the screens. They were small in comparison to the SuperTruck, with black windows and huge back engines. Various weapons were mounted on their roofs and hanging from short metal wings at their sides.

  Khan turned to Captain Sam, “Tell me you were jesting when you said you have no weapons on this truck.”

  “I was not. I don’t believe in weapons,” answered the Captain, not bothering to look back at Khan. “Any other trucks on radar? Anyone at all? Spread the word, love, find me someone, anyone.”

  “No, Captain,” Sweetheart adjusted her volume, but she still sounded calm above the roaring of the engine.

  “Throw an emergency call in a loop, say we have pirates on our tail and ask for help.”

  “I can’t believe you have no weapons on this lump of rusting metal,” Khan shouted.

  This time Captain Sam did turn his head to Khan and opened his mouth but before he could say anything Sweetheart announced there was an incoming message.

  “Only sound, don’t waste energy on visuals,” commanded the Captain.

  “Hello again, Khan,” Jakov’s voice filled the cabin and caused Rafik to shiver. “Sorry about your bar and your lady, but you were being very unreasonable. I hope you can be reasonable now.”

  “You fuck,” Khan screamed. “I will piss on your rusty metal corpse, Jakov.”

  “Save your breath for when you need to beg for your life,” Jakov intoned calmly. “I only want the kid, so if you just st—” Captain Sam flicked a switch and the voice was cut off.

  “I ain’t wasting power talking to that rusting crowbar,” he growled.

  “Three hundred yards and closing,” announced Sweetheart, then she corrected, “Two hundred yards, gun range, shooting—”

  There was a flash of bright light to their right. “Warning shot,” said the Captain. “Good, waste your power tubes, boys.”

  “What are we going to do?” Khan shouted, “This . . . truck . . . cannot outrun five sharks.”

  “Oh yeah?” answered the Captain, a thin smile appearing under his beard. “I could have filled half her haul space with weapons, and every time I met pirates, I could have gone in guns blazing. And you know what? Instead of becoming a slow-moving, half-full, weaponised gargantuan, I invested in two extra engines, so hold on to your seats, boys.” He busied himself briefly. There was a series of loud clicks and whirls as two more long tubes emerged from the sides of the SuperTruck and it suddenly surged forward with incredible speed.

  “Three hundred twenty-five . . . three hundred fifty,” announced Sweetheart. Then she added, “Sharks matching speed, four hundred yards, missiles locked, three fired.”

  “Flares,” shouted the Captain just as they were rocked violently forward and then to the side.

  “Hull damage,” announced Sweetheart calmly. “No energy to self-repair, another missile launched.”

  The truck rocked again. “Lower right anti-gravity hoop is down, lower left is damaged to eighty percent.” The truck tilted to the right and Rafik’s head snapped forward, his body pressing hard against his restraints, before the vehicle stabilized itself.

  “Losing energy, three hundred forty miles an hour and falling, sharks at a hundred fifty yards, hundred twen—”

  Jakov’s voice filled the cabin again, “Nice try, Captain, but you cannot outrun me. I’m going to take your truck apart piece by piece if I have to.” There was a series of shooting noises as he spoke, and Rafik could feel soft pings as the bullets hit.

  “Hull at seventy percent,” said Sweetheart as they slowed down even further.

  “I’m going to kill him.” The Captain’s voice was thick with cold fury. “Turn off all unnecessary power.”

  The air flow in the cabin ceased and the bright light of day suddenly penetrated the windows.

  “That added six percent to sp—”

  “Including your voice announcements. Just show me the data on-screen,” snapped the Captain.

  Sweetheart’s voice was cut off, and a number appeared on the screen: seven.

  “Take off buffer as well.”

  The number changed to eleven percent, but the SuperTruck began to vibrate violently.

  “And give me manual control,” shouted the Captain above the increasing noise as he clamped heavy hands on the steering wheel.

  They surged forward again; this time the f
lashing red numbers on the screen reached 350. The SuperTruck was shaking so violently that Rafik was trying with all his willpower not to be sick. Khan was noisily losing his lunch beside his seat.

  “They will have to switch to manual steering to keep up with us”—Captain Sam seemed to be talking to himself—“so now it’s an even field, let’s see who . . . Khan, you rust pot, don’t fall apart on me, and you’ll be cleaning tha—” The rest of the sentence was lost as the Captain aggressively swivelled the steering wheel, trying to crush the sharks which were making an attempt to surround the SuperTruck, but they were too nimble to be caught with such a move.

  “Khan, I need you on auxiliary controls!”

  There was no answer from Khan. He was slumped unconscious in his seat.

  “Damn speed fright,” cursed the Captain as another set of explosions pushed them to the side curve of the highway. Rafik saw a brief spark from the screen, which showed an explosion on their left before it suddenly went blank.

  Correcting their course again, the Captain looked back briefly and met Rafik’s gaze. With one hand still holding the steering wheel, he pressed two buttons on the dashboard. Khan’s and Rafik’s seats began changing positions, and in a few heartbeats the boy found himself sitting next to the Captain and in front of the dashboard, which now displayed blinking buttons and flashing screens. Khan’s seat was pushed to the back of the cabin.

  “We’re going to show these guys how to drive, boy,” roared the Captain. “Press the yellow button second row to the left, yes, that one.”

  Rafik found the button, leaned over, and pressed it.

  “Hold on tight, I call this one ‘the worm.’”

  Suddenly the screen showing the back of the truck was filled with a cloud of thick smoke. But a moment later the five sharks cut through the smoke cloud, weapons blazing.

  “Do it again,” roared Captain Sam.

  Rafik complied, feeling the SuperTruck slow down a bit as he pressed the button.

  The cloud of smoke did not slow down the pursuing vehicles; in fact, they were closer than before.

  Jakov’s voice filled the cabin again. “If that’s all you’ve got, Captain, stopping you would be as easy as hacking your comm. You really should have invested in a proper weapons system. Maybe after you give me the boy we could make a deal. I’ll give you a discount on what’s left of your haul.”

  Captain Sam swore as he pressed a button and cut Jakov’s voice off. “He ain’t coming inside you again, Sweetheart,” he said, pressing several more. “Rafik, press that button one more time, but then press the red one, third to the right, a line below, yes, that one.”

  Another cloud of smoke blew, and this time the Captain pulled a lever just as Rafik pressed the second button. The SuperTruck slowed down abruptly, and Rafik’s body slammed against the restraints as the SuperTruck flew up several yards in the air. The first shark drove through the smoke just as the SuperTruck came crashing down on it. There was a sea of sparks as metal screamed beneath them and an explosion that rocked them upwards again.

  “That was a perfect worm, boy,” roared the Captain as he slapped the wheel in triumph. “If Brinks the Brick could see me now, he would be a proud son of a rust bucket.” He flicked several switches and said, “You’re on, Sweetheart, screens on as well. We’re not running anymore.”

  Captain Sam’s joy was premature; the manoeuvre slowed Sweetheart significantly. As the numbers on the screen went down to close to two hundred, Captain Sam pressed on a large pedal underneath the steering wheel, and they began accelerating again. But one of the sharks had managed to squeeze past, and now it drove in front of them, its large cannon pointed at the cabin. The other two sharks were on either side of the Supertruck, while the fourth stayed at the back. They were surrounded.

  “Hull at fifty-seven percent,” said Sweetheart. “We are at two hundred thirty miles an hour.”

  “This is not a race anymore, love. This is war. We’re going to play with magnets now, Sweetheart.”

  “That might damage power relays—”

  “On my mark!” roared the Captain. “To the right side, now!”

  The SuperTruck jerked upwards and tilted sharply to the right. Rafik, shouting in surprise and fear, grabbed his seat with both hands as his body slammed sideways against the restraints yet again.

  For a heartbeat the SuperTruck’s entire bottom was facing the shark as it sailed through the air purely on momentum. Rafik thought he heard Sweetheart’s voice mentioning something about “reversing polarity.” but he wasn’t sure if those were her exact words.

  What he knew for sure was that just as Sweetheart was about to crash the SuperTruck tilted back, extremely close to the highway surface, and the Shark to their left was gone. Instead there was another display of sparks and fire underneath them.

  “I call that ‘tilt and swallow,’” whooped the Captain, but their jubilation was cut short when Sweetheart informed them that four antigravity plates were damaged.

  Another explosion behind them caused the SuperTruck to tilt yet again, this time upwards, losing power to its rear antigravity plates. Rafik saw sparks flying from the back of the SuperTruck—its rear now dragging on the highway surface.

  Captain Sam’s cheers turned into a tirade of profanities, and he shouted at Sweetheart to “lose the haul.” It took only a few heartbeats before the back doors of the metal mammoth opened and several huge metal crates slid down from inside and out onto the freeway. One of the crates hit the shark behind the truck, tearing it in half.

  With its weight off, the SuperTruck hull rose from the ground again as another shark closed in from the left. When it was at the same level as Captain Sam’s seat, the black window of the shark flew open and the thick muzzle of a formidable-looking gun emerged.

  “Duck!” shouted the Captain.

  Rafik lowered his head just as the window to his left exploded and bullets filled the hull and the roof of the cabin.

  The Captain tried to crush the shark but it accelerated, then slowed back down again and fired another load. Rafik covered his head and bent as low as he could, as pieces of dried sausages and spouts of cursed water sprayed the cabin. All he could think of was the carnage he had witnessed at the bar. He wanted to crawl somewhere dark and safe and hide forever.

  When he finally gathered the courage to lift his head, the shark was coming in for a third pass, this time from Sweetheart’s right side. Rafik heard Captain Sam shouting at him to duck, but all he could do was watch as the masked driver trained his gun straight on him. From behind his head a hand holding a gun stuck out from the broken window, and a series of deafening shots erupted. One of the shots must have hit its mark, because the shark wavered, then drove full speed straight into the road’s curve, spinning through the air before crushing behind them. Only the front shark remained.

  Khan fell back into his seat, still pale but with a look of satisfaction spread across his face.

  Jakov’s furious voice filled the cabin again: “I’m going to kill your truck and I’m going to kill you.”

  The mounted gun on the shark swivelled towards them and barked fire. Everyone ducked, but this time the bullets were not aimed at the cabin but lower, into the SuperTruck’s engine.

  “Receiving damage,” announced Sweetheart.

  “Can you crush him?” shouted Khan, crouching behind Rafik’s seat.

  “He’s too fast,” answered the Captain, beads of sweat pouring down his face.

  “Exit in two miles, damage alert, forward engine flooding.” The SuperTruck’s voice was becoming distorted.

  “Hold on, Sweetheart,” roared the Captain, desperation in his voice. He slammed the brakes hard. With a terrible, high-pitched whine, the SuperTruck lurched forward as it came to a complete halt so abruptly that Khan flew forward, smashing his shoulder into Rafik’s seat before falling down to the cabin floor with a heavy grunt.

  Caught by surprise, the last shark kept driving. But after a short while they could s
ee the small vehicle slowing down, then turning around and heading back.

  “How’s your gun?” the Captain said.

  “Empty,” winced Khan, getting up from the floor.

  “Maybe I should reconsider my no-weapons policy,” the Captain muttered into his beard.

  “No kidding.” Khan got up slowly, massaging his bruised shoulder. There was blood coming out of his nose.

  The shark stopped at a distance—short enough to shoot at them, but not so close that the SuperTruck could suddenly surge forward and crush it.

  “Send the kid out, and I’ll let you live.” Jakov’s voice filled the cabin. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

  The two men looked at each other.

  The shark slowly progressed towards them.

  “There is a crowbar somewhere in the back,” said Captain Sam. “Search behind the kegs.” As Khan rummaged through the mess, the Captain pressed a button and the seat restraints withdrew. “It ain’t over yet, boy,” he said with a tight smile.

  Rafik took a deep breath. “Captain, let me out. Please.”

  “No way, boy, there is still fight in this trucker,” Captain Sam clenched a mighty fist but his brow was wrinkled with worry.

  Khan came back empty-handed, looking despaired. “What now?”

  Captain Sam turned to watch the shark in front of them “We fight that rust face.”

  Rafik shook his head. “Jakov has guns, Captain; he killed Dominique and Martinn, too. Let me out. Maybe I could convince him . . .”

  Khan was the only one to respond this time. “No, there must be another way.”

  But the trucker’s expression had suddenly lost resolve.

  “Captain, he will kill Sweetheart,” said Rafik urgently as the shark came closer.

  “Rust,” Captain Sam swore as he pressed a button. The passenger door began to slowly open with a loud puff of hydraulics.

  “No, Captain.” Kahn surged forward to grab Rafik, but Captain Sam’s open palm slammed into his chest.

  Khan turned his eyes to the boy. They were full of defeat and anger. “Rafik . . .” he pleaded, as the boy slid out of the truck and climbed down. As soon as his feet touched the road, Rafik moved away from Sweetheart, waving his hands in the air in the hope of attracting Jakov’s attention. The shark turned away from the truck and began moving towards the boy.