Previously: Digger and Metalord defeated the Chinese government supers sent to capture them and were flying above Shanghai in a stolen ice cream truck. And now…
â€œSo this Ghost Dragon,â€ Digger said. â€œWhatâ€™s his deal?â€
â€œWe didnâ€™t really get into specifics,â€ Cole said. â€œThe gist was that we might not even get close to the Czar, cause this other guy is so tough.â€
â€œYou think he was telling the truth?â€
â€œI donâ€™t care if he was telling the truth,â€ Cole said. â€œIâ€™m not real scared of what those bozos think is super-tough.â€
â€œWell, at least youâ€™re confident,â€ Digger said.
Cole nodded and did his best to lean back in the seat. â€œYeah, why donâ€™t you grab us a couple of popsicles or something from the back? Itâ€™s going to take a couple of hours to get there.â€
â€œSure,â€ Digger said. â€œWhat fla…â€
The truck rocked as bullet holes ripped through the floorboards in back, punching out through the roof.
â€œDamn it,â€ Cole said. â€œI shouldâ€™ve expected that.â€
Digger looked out through the window on his side to see streaks of light–tracer shells–deflecting off to the side of the truck and streaking up past them. â€œExpected what?â€
â€œAnti-aircraft fire,â€ Cole said. He sat up and checked the rear view mirror. â€œAnd now here come the SAMs. Seriously, you think these guys would learn.â€
[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]â€œBut brilliantâ€™s bad for us, isnâ€™t it?â€ Digger asked. His stomach lurched as the ice cream truck shot upward…[/blockquote]Digger was pressed back against the driverâ€™s seat as the truck accelerated through the air. He gripped the steering wheel tightly as he looked in the rear view mirror to see two curling tendrils of smoke pursuing them. The steering wheel couldnâ€™t actually do anything useful in the air, but it gave his hands something to do. The inside of the truck reeked of brake fluid and vanilla as the smoke tendrils drew closer.
â€œTheyâ€™re catching up to us,â€ Digger said.
â€œYeah, I know.â€
â€œWell, canâ€™t you make this thing go any faster?â€ Digger urged as more tracers shot up and around them.
â€œItâ€™s an ice cream truck! Itâ€™s not exactly built for speed!â€ Cole said. â€œCut me a little slack, here. I just flew us across the Pacific and beat the crap out of two Chinese supers. Iâ€™m a little tired.â€
â€œWell, figure something out, because theyâ€™re getting closer,â€ Digger said.
â€œRelax,â€ Cole said. â€œTheyâ€™re metal, which means even if we canâ€™t outrun them, we just go to Plan B and I destroy them from here.â€
He flicked his hand up dismissively, then looked more closely at the rear view mirror. â€œHm.â€
â€œWhatâ€™s â€˜hm?â€™â€ Digger asked.
â€œThe missiles are emitting some kind of coded electro-magnetic pulse that blocks my magnetism,â€ Cole said. â€œItâ€™s pretty brilliant, actually.â€
â€œBut brilliantâ€™s bad for us, isnâ€™t it?â€ Digger asked. His stomach lurched as the ice cream truck shot upward.
â€œOh yeah,â€ Cole said, still watching the missiles in the rear view. â€œCanâ€™t outrun â€˜em, canâ€™t deflect â€˜em. Which means Plan C.â€
The driverâ€™s side door ripped away from the vehicle at a gesture from Metalord, followed immediately by the driverâ€™s seat with Digger still strapped to it. As he plummeted toward the ground, Digger saw both missiles strike the truck, which exploded spectacularly.
Rock, meet hard place! How will Digger survive the fall? Join us for the next exciting chapter of Run, Digger, Run!
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