75

As the jeep speeds away from Lordsburg, you watch the blazing wreckage disappear slowly into the night. You are half-expecting a horde of clansmen to come roaring out of the town in hot pursuit, but as you make your escape there is no sign of any clan activity.

You cover fifteen miles, reaching the intersection with Highway 80, when the jeep runs out of fuel. The captain lets it cruise to the side of the freeway, and as soon as it stops he leaps out and walks around to the back to unhook a large fuel can that is strapped to the spare tyre.

‘It’s your turn to drive, Cal,’ he says, as he shakes the can. You obey this command and settle yourself in the driving seat while he pours the contents into the jeep’s empty tank. ‘There’s about two gallons in this,’ he says, as the precious gas sloshes into the filler pipe. ‘It’s not going to get us very far.’

The captain is pouring in the last few drops of the spare gas when suddenly you discover why you were not followed out of Lordsburg.

Turn to 309.