Three miles ahead of them, Dust could see the yellow bus. Behind them, he could hear the sound of the motorcycles. The deep rumble of the engines and the squeal of tires on asphalt sent a rush of adrenaline through him.
“They are jumping the gap you made,” Josie urgently informed him.
Dust didn’t bother to look over his shoulder. Instead, he focused on the bus ahead of them and tried to figure out what to do. They needed to slow the men down. There was little in the way of flammable fuel for Josie to use along the sides of the road. His eyes widened as an idea came to him. He didn’t know if it would work, but at this point they needed something—anything—to give Raymond and the others time to get across the bridge.
“I have an idea,” Dust grimly said, swooping lower.
“Uh, Dust…. We need
