They drove through the night, mostly in silence except for the soft hum of the engine and the occasional jarring thud when the Nomad's maglev suspension couldn't compensate for divots in the broken road. The vehicle's former status as a personnel carrier was a boon for both of them, since the front seats were made wide, comfortable, and fully adjustable, each with its own stabilizers. Boniface made an awkward show of settling herself for sleep, probably looking for sympathy, but she kept her complaints to herself and eventually nodded off.

"Told you it would be fine, boss," Gypsy said into Livy's earpiece.

"Give it time," Livy whispered back, "it's only been ten hours."

The A.I. was one of many reasons Livy didn't like passengers. Wholly apart from the illegal military gear, the cores had custom shackles, which gave Gypsy a wider range of function than most. That was technically illegal too, but those laws changed city to city and it was nearly impossible to screen for violations. The real problem was that Gypsy either didn't know how or refused to hide her personality quirks and Livy didn't have the coding skills to restrict her speech. Their tentative compromise had been silent running around strangers.

"How are the repairs holding up?" Livy asked to change the subject.

"Checking. Picking up a little slippage in the right front coupler, but it's within tolerance. Everything else is green."

Livy suppressed a curse. That was where the old coupler had gone out. She hoped the rotors inside the hub hadn't been damaged, or she'd lose another coupler before long. Maybe she could replace the whole drive array while they were in Haven now that she had the money for it, but it would take a couple days to have everything fabricated, and a few more to mount it. She didn't know if her contract would allow for that kind of flexibility.

The journey north from Whitelock was mostly off road, which would put extra strain on the Nomad. It cost a few hours as the landscape forced them below 60 kph and long detours were necessary to avoid ruins or locate navigable river crossings. It would get a little better in Montana, but there the roads frequently twisted and doubled back, slowing them further until they neared Haven on old America's northern border.

She often imagined what it must have been like to speed down the old highways before the war, when they were covered in unbroken asphalt and maintained against the weather. The southern corridor was close since the corporations had an interest in maintaining the narrow network, but even that was mostly compact dirt like the dustbelt.

Shortly after the sun began to blush the eastern sky, an amber alert flashed on the HUD.

"Dammit," Livy said aloud before remembering her passenger. Boniface stirred, then startled as she woke in unfamiliar surroundings.

"Huh?" she said, blinking rapidly. "What's going on?"

"Someone behind us is pinging the area. Might be nothing."

The vidstar yawned and stretched as much as the space allowed. "What else might it be?"

"Whoever it is, they're looking for something, casting a wide net as far as they can."

Boniface sat up straighter, reflexively looking behind them, though there was nothing to see except shipping boxes and her fancy luggage. "Police?"

Livy snorted a laugh. "There aren't any police out here. Settlement cops usually don't stray more than a few miles."

Boniface glanced behind her, as if expecting to see something through the thick, composite panels. "Is it a gang?"

"Hopefully."

"You hope? I thought you said they were dangerous."

"Very."

Boniface bit her lip, avoiding the question that was written in her expression. What could be worse than feral gangs?

Radar hadn't been widely used in Livy's lifetime except by gangers, who had limited access to technology, or as part of an integrated sensor array, which would indicate a runner or a corporate agent. Even then radio scans were limited, because they tickled passive detectors before you were close enough to get an accurate read. That was even more true since the Grid came online, limiting transmissions to line of sight.

"Run an analysis," Livy said out of habit, manually activating a backscatter wave.

Boniface frowned back at her. "Excuse me?"

"Nevermind."

"Compiling data," Gypsy said through the earpiece. "Low G-band pulse. Single source. Pattern adjusting for interference."

"Great."

"What?" Boniface leaned forward to check the rear view monitors. "I don't see anything."

"A single vehicle, maybe a mile back," Livy explained, yielding more power to the drive cores. "They're looking hard because they expect to find someone."

"Who?"

"We're the only ones out here."

The vidstar looked behind again, then thrust herself into her seat, fumbling herself into its harness. "Just drive," she breathed, her face so pale it looked bleached.

Livy didn't bother answering. The signal pattern indicated an advanced tracking algorithm which ruled out most of the gangs. Corporate goons on the prowl would have an escort. That meant another runner. The fact that they were actively pinging an open road suggested they were seeking a bounty.

"Why would someone be after you?" Livy asked, forcing herself to remain calm.

"I have no idea!" Boniface insisted, her voice shrill and shaking. For an actress, she was a terrible liar.

The backscatter was useless at that point, so she stopped transmitting. She could lean on the throttle, trust in speed to keep her out of range, but the only thing between them and Haven was two days of solid driving and three tiny, fenced settlements that wouldn't provide sanctuary for a bounty. Her second option was to slow down, hail them, and find out what they were after, maybe try to talk her way through it.

Or she could confront them head on.

"What are you doing?" Boniface Young shouted as the Nomad slowed, then banked hard and slid the last twenty feet, stopping sideways in the middle of the road.

Livy reached behind her and retrieved the shotgun as her door swung open. "Getting some answers."

The six-wheeled Lawson Redoubt, an expensive truck expressly designed for runners, appeared in less than a minute to find Livy leaning casually against the sealed driver's door, shotgun over her shoulder and pistol within reach in its thigh holster. With half again the Nomad's mass and hardpoints for mounting weapons, it was built to mitigate hostile encounters, but they'd apparently come expecting a chase, hoping to wear her down through the Wyoming foothills. The driver slowed and stopped a good distance away, then idled for a while, bathing her in its headlamps while they tried to deduce her plan. Good luck with that, she thought. She didn't have one.

She could see the Redoubt's active shielding through her XR goggles, masking the inhabitants inside, but it was made to seat four and she'd be a fool to expect less. They'd certainly be well armed.

"Got anything for me, Gypsy?" she mumbled, far less relaxed than she appeared.

"Not much without active scans," she answered through the speaker in Livy's goggles. "Schematics show a vulnerability underneath, inside the wheels."

"All the frictionless drives have a soft belly. What about the grill?"

"Sorry, I don't see any chinks in the forward armor. And they've got a ramming plate."

"Do they?" Livy grinned to herself.

"Um, boss? You're not planning to do anything stupid, are you?"

"When have I ever?" she said, and spat on the ground. Then she stood and took a step forward, flipped the shotgun's ammo selector, sighted down her arm, and fired a three centimeter explosive slug into the Redoubt's right side headlamp.

"What the hell, Livy!" A burly man with a tattered cowboy hat jumped out of the driver's seat and stormed around his truck, flailing his arms in a rage while he examined the damage. "This baby ain't even a month old!"

The goggles zoomed in so she could confirm the familiar voice. "Dunker? Is that you?"

"Duncan!" he screamed back. "Shit! Shoulda known you'd be more trouble than you're worth!"

"You're a bit far outside the corridor. Corpos loosen the leash?"

"Don't work for no corpo."

"Your fancy wheels tell a different story. What are you doing way out here?"

"Opportunity was too good to pass up."

"Trying to poach my contract?"

"What? Hell no, you stupid bitch. I'm taking your ride back to Whitelock."

"Me?" She blinked in surprise, and pushed up her goggles.

The arrogant bastard grinned, happy to see her off guard. "You remember Collins, yeah?" He tucked his thumbs into his belt and strolled toward her. "Missed some kinda filing deadline because of you. Sucker's pissed as hell."

"I'll tell you you what I told him. Completed chain of custody, no formal deadline. Fulfilled the contract. It's not my problem."

"It is now." Duncan Moffett sneered. "He's claiming your little Frankenstein as compensation. He don't even care that it's not worth half a deuce, he just wants you broken, probably tag you as a vagrant once your ride hits impound. When I saw your name on the boards I had to take him up on it."

"Frankenstein was a doctor," Livy replied.

"What?"

"Frankenstein. The monster didn't have a name. Read a book sometime, Dunker."

He stopped and glared, flexing his biceps reflexively. "You got no way out, Livy. You so much as wink, my guys will run straight through that junk pile of yours before you can even open the door. Collins never said it had to come back in one piece. You neither."

"Remember how you tried to bend me over on that border job? Remind me how that went down."

Judging by his reaction, he hadn't forgotten being stranded in Groston, a small, industrial city-state south of the the Mexican border. They had split a job with more cargo than either of their vehicles could carry. When he tried to run off with her cut, she left him lying in the dirt with a broken nose and a bullet in his calf while she drove off in his cargo van, Gypsy following close behind.

"How you wanna do this?" he growled, "easy or bloody?"

"You pick," she said, leveling her shotgun at him.

Duncan's evil smile barely hid the malice behind his eyes. "Was hoping you'd say that." Duncan had plenty of bluster, but the son of a bitch was fast. His pistol was up in a flash and he sprinted smoothly out of the way, giving the Redoubt a clear shot.

If their 50 cals had been in place it would have been over, but armed vehicles weren't allowed into the city-states or most of the settlements. Since mounting and dismounting the turrets was a hassle, runners generally used them only when danger was imminent, like in the ruins or through the traverse. Lacking overwhelming firepower and not expecting an early confrontation, Duncan and his pals did the next best thing and put their ramming plates to use. At his signal, the Redoubt kicked sand as one of his buddies floored it toward the Nomad.

"Go!" Livy shouted to Gypsy, drawing her pistol and unloading a few shots at Duncan. The Nomad raced off the highway while Livy dove in the opposite direction, hitting the dirt and rolling. As the truck surged between them, she leveled the shotgun and prayed for a clean shot. The first slug detonated harmlessly against the truck's armored shell, but the second found its way between the right rear wheel and its fender, into the glowing frictionless rotor on the far side.

The power cell erupted, blowing off two wheels and bucking the heavy truck more than a meter into the air before flipping it on its side.

"You goddamn crazy bitch!" Duncan screamed, advancing on her and firing his pistol aimlessly. Livy stayed low, presenting as small a target as possible, and switched the shotgun's ammo again. As much as she hated the guy, she didn't want to blow him in half. Before she could spray him with birdshot, however, Gypsy came around and hit the front limiters, sending the Nomad into a spin and fishtailing into Duncan hard enough to launch him comically several meters through the air. The Nomad completed its slide and came to rest with the driver's door sliding languidly open as if they had all the time in the world.

Duncan wasn't moving, but two others were climbing out of the wreck, both armed. Livy jumped into her seat and hit the accelerator.

"Still in one piece?" she asked her passenger.

"I am not fucking okay!" the vidstar shrieked, eyes rolling and wide with panic, clearly not in the mood for irony.

Livy wasn't at her best either, hands still shaking in the aftermath of an intense adrenaline surge. A slug pinged off the hatch plate, triggering a handful of readouts in the HUD but the Nomad suffered no real damage. She fed more power into the drive.

"What the effing hell? Who was that?" Boniface panted when she stopped hyperventilating.

Livy focused on the road ahead, sparing an eye for the rearview cams to make sure Duncan didn't have any more surprises.

"I'm talking to you!" the vidstar turned in her seat with a snarl.

"And I'm not listening."

"You were supposed to escort me safely to Brannon!"

"You're safe. Relax."

"Relax!?" Boniface jabbed a finger toward the back of the Nomad. "They're still shooting at us, how am I supposed to relax?"

Livy focused on the road, willing herself to calm down. "Armor's old military. Interlocking, one-and-a-half centimeter composite hex plates with a graphene weave. Unless one of them has an M-66 penetrator hiding up their ass, you're in no danger."

"Then what was all that back there? Why didn't you just run?"

"Because that's what they were counting on. Bounty runners drive in shifts, wear you down, until you're too tired to stay on the road."

Boniface seemed to deflate slightly, absorbing the new information with a disapproving scowl.

"What did he want?"

"I dunno."

"He knew you," Boniface accused. "It was personal."

Gypsy should have known better than to relay the conversation through the speakers. Livy glared at the belly-dancer hologram on the HUD, which had the decency to look ashamed.

"Don't last long out here without making enemies," she replied, feeling the heat rise again, her body still saturated with adrenaline and cortisol.

"Any more enemies I should know about?" Boniface shot back.

Livy spun on the vidstar, releasing the wheel, and Gypsy reflexively took over.

"Listen, you porcelain bitch!" she snarled, releasing some of the heat. "I didn't want this. I don't take passengers, but you and Archie left me no choice. There are no safety zones out here, no cops, nobody coming to rescue you. People die, and sometimes the only thing that stands between you and a dirt nap is the amount of nerve you bring to the table. If you want to make it to the other end of this trip without being bent over by a dozen gangers in full rutt, you'll shut your fucking hole and let me do my job!"

The fire didn't diminish with her outburst and she had to choke it down before it went cold. Livy's short temper caused no end of trouble, but it was the cold, the silent emptiness that no words or violence could satisfy, that she dreaded most.

Boniface stared back, mouth agape as if she'd been slapped. "I'm sorry," she said awkwardly, struggling to form the words around her pride.

"It's fine. Someone should have warned you."

"I'm not stupid. I know it's dangerous outside the city."

"No," Livy said, shaking her head, willing her hands to stop trembling. "I meant about me."

The Lawson Redoubt is a modern runner's vehicle, designed for long runs with a crew of 4-6. It comes standard with a "basecamp" mode, sporting collapsible bunks, five hard points for mountable, automated turrets, water recyclers, and a cooler for food storage. Due to the high cost, they're uncommon and generally procured through corporate accounts as part of a long-term contract.