The Anubis Plague полностью

Zahra drew her sidearm.

Rabia shook her head. “That won’t do. We need something that hits harder.”

Now, it was Zahra’s turn to shake her head. “My gun is spent.”

“Mine is not.”

Zahra sat and stared at the woman. “You’re kidding me, right? You want me to use that ‘monster’ inside a moving vehicle.”

“One that will be swerving back and forth while also rapidly braking and accelerating, yes.”

Zahra laughed. “You’re crazy. You know that?”

Rabia shrugged. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

So was Zahra. She was still alive after so many daring escapes because she did what she had to do to survive. As much as Zahra didn’t want to admit it, she and the sniper were very similar to one another.

“I’ll walk you through it, okay?”

Zahra sighed and nodded. Next, she went about the arduous task of working the four-foot-long McMillan TAC-338 precision rifle into position. What made matters worse was that Zahra had to kneel in her seat while facing the rear of the SUV. If she didn’t get shot during the attempt, she’d surely get car sick.

“Okie-dokie,” Zahra muttered. “Here we go.”

She lifted the weapon, setting the barrel across the back bench seat. Rabia pulled the steering wheel hard to the left, sending them sliding around a corner. When their tires caught, she shot off, but the sudden jerking motion, combined with Zahra’s awkward positioning, spilled her backward into Rabia’s lap.

“Zahra!” Rabia shouted, unable to get her hands back on the steering wheel. “Get off!”

“I can’t! I’m stuck!”

Reacting quickly, Zahra grabbed the wheel and held it in place.

“Left!” Rabia instructed, trying to yank her arms free.

But she couldn’t. Zahra was stuck, and the side-to-side rocking was working her deeper and deeper into place.

Zahra edged left.

“Back right — right!”

Following Rabia’s orders, Zahra moved them right. As she did, she left herself up into a crunch, leaning forward enough for Rabia to slip her left arm out from beneath her back. Back in control, Rabia steadied the SUV long enough for Zahra to wiggle back into her own seat. Neither woman reacted to the ridiculousness of the past couple of seconds. Zahra refused to meet the sniper’s gaze and, instead, went about realigning her shot.

She had used bolt-action rifles before, so getting everything in order wasn’t a problem. Holding the heavy weapon in place while moving was the issue, as was her diminished strength. Zahra was tired, and her arms shook.

“Take a deep breath before taking the shot,” Rabia coached. She then lowered all of the windows. Even with the large suppressor attached to the barrel, the report was going to be deafening. The open windows would help lessen the beating Zahra and Rabia’s brains were about to endure.

“Aim for the front grill,” Rabia said softly.

Zahra didn’t hear her and took the shot, putting the .338 Lapua Magnum round through the driver’s chest instead. As expected, the concussive force was unbearable, punching Zahra in the skull like a jackhammer.

Rabia felt it, too. She winced and flinched, tossing Zahra to the side as her hands flowed her head to the side. “Or,” she said, cringing, “you can do that.”

The result was instantaneous. The sedan’s passenger freaked out and grabbed the steering wheel away from his deceased compatriot, but he unsuccessfully de-escalated the situation. If anything, Zahra was pretty sure the car sped up before plowing into the rear end of a street-side parked truck. There was still no sign of the third, and final, car.

Zahra set the rifle down across the backseat and fell back into her place beside Rabia.

The sniper patted Zahra’s thigh. “You did well.”

“What?” Zahra asked, her ears ringing.

“You did well!” Rabia shouted.

But Zahra was faking her deafness, and it was too late by the time Rabia had noticed. She just rolled her eyes and sped up, clunking the side of Zahra’s head on the passenger side window as she swiftly tugged on the wheel.

Zahra rubbed the fresh knock. “Thanks…”

Attempting to prevent another mishap, Zahra buckled in, surprised when she and Rabia were rear-ended. Both women snuck a look behind them and found the third and final sedan riding their ass. Somehow, it had snuck up close without either of them noticing.

The driver hit them again.

The steering wheel was ripped out of Rabia’s hands, but she quickly reacquired it before she lost control. They were hit again — then again. Zahra thought about peppering the tailgater with nine-millimeter bullets but decided against it. It would be a waste of ammo at this point. Rabia would have to take care of it herself.

Or not…