Short Bursts
Ten Minutes in October
by Steven Marsh
The next edition of Car Wars is coming! To help prepare,
Pyramid proudly presents this vignette, spotlighting one aspect
of its bold new world. Visit carwars.sjgames.com to keep
abreast of the latest developments!
YYY
It’d been decades since October regained its bite – before
Maya Prashad was born – and she didn’t appreciate the
Colorado chill. She wrapped her overshirt closer and rubbed
her temples. Denver stubbornly remained 100 miles away; it
might as well be a million, with two flat tires on the Odisha
Tiger. The sharpened debris that littered these roads endured
even after the pavement self-repaired. Maya kicked the Tiger’s
front right tire, hitting the rim with her boot. She instantly
regretted it, cursing as she briefly hopped on her heel.
She weighed her options. She had a phone with one bar;
she could call Sara, cashing in the life-debt chip Maya earned
with blood in Portland. But Maya swore she would only do
that in an extreme emergency; she didn’t think she was there
yet. Besides, in a best-case scenario, Sara was likely a thou-
sand miles away, which would take nearly a day to drive under
ideal circumstances. Maybe she can go all 21st-cent and fly
over, Maya mused bitterly to herself.
Hitchhike? It could be a day or more before she saw any-
one else. Anyone she met was likely no one she wanted to
meet. She might as well write a suicide note beforehand – and
Maya hated handwriting.
Fix the tire? Unlikely. The emergency repair kit could only
patch one, and she didn’t have the skill to jury-rig a second
repair. She was a good duelist – better than most – but she
Pyramid Magazine 38 January 2016
didn’t feel like it was in her veins . . . not like some she’d met on
the coast. The driving, the shooting – a means to an end. Every
dollar, eye on the prize: college. The possibility of getting an
ultratech job went from “impossible” to “really difficult” with
a degree. Alternatively, enough seed money would let her par-
lay an education into becoming a duelist designer; so much
off-the-shelf gear needs to be kitbashed into something useful.
She sighed again; the dollars unspent on the no-flat tires
seemed so insignificant now. Save the money for a tombstone,
for all the good . . . Her thoughts were interrupted by a tiny
glistening on the I-70 horizon. A car – at least one.
Maya weighed her options. She had her code – always the
code. Some days she felt that was all that kept her alive, even
when her own skill failed her. She could buy, barter, beg, or
even steal . . . but she wouldn’t attack unless attacked – and
certainly wouldn’t kill unprovoked.
She said a quick prayer as the vehicle approached. Then
she got behind the wheel of the Tiger. Maya looked in the rear-
view mirror. One vehicle. Alone. Closer. Closer.
It was going to pass her. She’d be stuck. She would die . . .
or worse, have to call Sara.
Suddenly the Tiger echoed with a rapid rainfall of plinks.
Machine-gun fire. Whoever this was, they either weren’t
friendly, or – most likely – the haze made the austere Tiger
seem like an abandoned heap that would be fun for target
practice. She smiled and pressed the button.
The discreet rear-facing rocket launcher roared into life,
sending its deadly hidden payload backward while lurching
her own stationary vehicle forward several feet with a grind of
metal on pavement.
The approaching ramshackle patchwork vehicle
swerved to avoid it, but the driver was just as clueless at
maneuvering as they were at picking targets. The jalopy
opened its front left tire into the oncoming rocket, caus-
ing a chain reaction where swerve transformed into spin
into tumble into crash. Maya never heard a scream.
It took over an hour to excavate two tires from the
vehicle’s debris field. Maya didn’t see a body (or bodies),
but she also didn’t look. The tires were mismatched and
made the Tiger handle terribly for the day’s drive to civi-
lization. But it was still better than calling Sara.
About the Author
Steven Marsh has written over 100 articles and edited
or reviewed many more for Steve Jackson Games.