The twins were still behind me, bits of burnt cellocard and carbonized grit swirling between them from the flaming rubble lining the street. Their weapons dangled as they walked, swaying slightly between every heavy footstep. There was no going back.
Ahead, only the tank, crouched on thick tracks, claws dangling from worn pins. Its diesel made the body panels vibrate. It looked down at me.
I held up the switch with the wire running to my backpack.
jeffc