I
Williams gazed down the long, overgrown slope at what had once been the East Mirabeau Drive-in Theater. “That’s a pretty steep decline, Ank. You sure you can handle it?”
He was doing it again. Responding to the imaginary voice.
The armored dinosaur examined the slope, flies buzzing about his eyes.
Williams gripped his rifle and looked behind them: Sure enough, the marauders were coming, the wheels of their trucks and ATVs and motorcycles kicking up great plumes of dust as they motored across the plain. He quickly joined Ank who was already descending, his great hooves sinking into the earth like anvils, the water containers and camping gear and boxes of ammo strapped to his shell sloshing and clanking.
“Those prints are going to be a problem,” said Williams, falling back to rub the
