Lucifer's Hammer - Larry Niven [284]
She looked up from where she was digging. They had one last stick of dynamite and she wanted to plant it. She pointed up toward the Sierra. "My boy is up there," she said. "If we don't stop them, who will? This is good enough. Give me the dynamite."
Harvey had already crimped fuse onto the cap. He handed her the stick and she thrust it into the hole, then shoveled dirt and rock onto it.
"That's enough!" Harvey screamed. "Let's get out of here!" They were on the far side of a low hill and couldn't see the advancing enemy, but Harvey didn't think they would be far behind.
"Not yet," Marie said. "Something I have to do first." She walked toward the hilltop.
"Come back here! I swear, I'll leave you! Hey!"
She didn't look back. After a moment he cursed, then followed her uphill. She was adjusting her rifle, setting the strap on her left arm. She braced herself against a rock. "Down there is where you put the oil. And the mines," she said. "We drove right past it."
"We had to! They were right behind us!" And it's all so damned futile anyway. Motorcycles were coming up the road. They'd reach the ridge in a minute or two.
Marie took careful aim. Fired. "Good," she muttered to herself. She fired again. "I'd be done quicker if you'd do some shooting too," she said.
Harvey knew he wasn't about to hit the oil drum set three hundred yards away. He braced his rifle on a rock and aimed at the first of the oncoming motorcycles. He fired again and again, and missed each time. But the cyclists slowed, then stopped and took cover in the ditch to wait for the infantry. Marie continued to fire, slowly, carefully. Finally she said, "That ought to do it. Let's go … Actually, what's the hurry? They're stopped." She took up her position again and waited.
Harvey clenched his fists and took a deep breath. She was right. There was no immediate danger. The oil was spilling across the road now, and the two motorcycles were going nowhere.
Another motorcycle reached the oil slick. It skidded into the ditch and the biker screamed. Marie smiled faintly. "Good idea, those punji sticks of yours."
Harvey looked at her in horror. Marie Vance: on the board of governors of half a dozen charities; banker's wife, socialite, country club member; and she was grinning at the thought of a man impaled on a stick smeared with human shit to make the wounds fester …
A truck came to the oil slick and stopped; then it started forward, slowly. Marie put a bullet through its windshield. It slid forward and skidded, turning slightly sideways. The motor gunned and the wheels spun, but it did not move.
Another truck came up behind it and started around; one of the dynamite mines went off, loudly, and the truck went up in flames. Harvey felt it now: the urgent impulse to shout in triumph. Something had worked. Those weren't people down there, scrambling to get away from the burning truck, some themselves burning; they were army ants, and the trick had worked—
They heard the plop! from in front of them, then a faint whistle. Something exploded twenty yards to their left. Another plop!
"The car! Now, dammit!" Harvey shouted.
"Yes, I think it's time." Marie followed. The second mortar round went off somewhere behind them. They leaped into the TravelAll and drove off laughing and shouting like children.
"Son of a bitch, it worked!" Harvey shouted. He looked over at Marie and her eyes shone with triumph to match his own. We make a great team, he thought.
" 'Run away!' " cried Harvey.
Marie looked at him strangely.
"Monty Python and the Holy Grail," Harvey said. "Didn't you see it?"
"No."
They drove on, still laughing with excitement. Inside, Harvey knew it wasn't really much of a victory, but it was better than the rest of the day. There was no question of stopping now, not until they reached the next large barrier, which was a fork of the Tule River. That would be a formidable barrier once its bridge was blown; surely it would stop the New Brotherhood. It had to; beyond was the ridgeline that marked the entrance to the Stronghold itself. The