![]() Nochtli grunted and collapsed face-first onto the deck, shattering his nose. In the cabin, Remi cocked her leg again and heel-kicked Nochtli in the thigh. He pulled up on the collective to gain altitude. He shifted the cyclic again, continuing to slide the helicopter left toward the trees at the edge of the pad. Sam’s passenger’sside cockpit window spiderwebbed. Below and to the right, Rivera stood in the cargo bed of the Cushman with Remi’s fallen AK-74 tucked into his shoulder. Sam jerked the helicopter to the left and looked out both side windows, trying to locate the source of the gunfire. “I hear it! Hold tight, I’m going to try to shake him!” Bullets thunked into the cabin’s doorway. Remi curled her leg for a second strike.įrom below came three overlapping cracks. With a grunt, he heaved his upper torso onto the deck and reached for the tie-down straps attached to the crate. Remi coiled her leg and lashed out, slamming her heel into Nochtli’s pinkie finger. “And we’ve got a passenger!” Remi shouted. A moment later a hand appeared in the opening, clawing at the deck for a handhold. The rifle slid down the deck, bounced off the bell’s crate, and disappeared out the door. Instinctively, she released her grip on the AK-74 to latch onto the safety harness. Remi’s feet slid out from under her, and she skidded toward the opening. Suddenly the helicopter lurched sideways and down, the open side door facing the ground. Sam glanced out one side window, then the other. Sam lifted the collective, trying to gain altitude. The Cushman stuttered and began slowing, but not before it slid from view beneath the helicopter. ![]() Steam gushed from the engine compartment. Bullets pounded into the cart’s front end, sparking off the bumper guards and shredding the fiberglass. In the back, Remi opened up with one of the AK-74s, firing controlled three-round bursts into the ground ahead of the Cushman, but got no result. ![]() To one side a figure-Nochtli, it looked like-dashed across the pad and threw himself into the Cushman’s cargo bed. ![]() The Cushman was thirty feet away and closing fast. Sam risked another glance out the side window. The helicopter dropped straight down, bounced off the pad, rose again. The helicopter dipped right, and the tail spun around. In his haste he jerked the cyclic to the right and pressed the rudder pedal. He returned his attention to the controls, working the collective to gain altitude. “I knew I’d forgotten something,” Sam shouted. Sam caught a glimpse of Rivera in the moon’s pale glow hunched over the wheel. It took a few moments for him to register what he was seeing: Yaotl and the others were scattering across the pad as a dark rectangular shape bumped over the pad’s rock-lined perimeter and headed toward the helicopter. He tested the cyclic, moving the helicopter first left, then right, then nose up and down. He engaged the collective, and slowly the helicopter lifted off. Sam tested the helicopter’s cyclic control between his legs, then the collective stick at his side, gauging the blade pitch, then finally the antitorque foot pedals until he had a feel for them. #Into the waves nochtli freeShe wrapped her free hand around the webbing. ![]()
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