Flynn rode beside Petra as they crested the hill. Petra called a stop – The Clam lay ahead of them, but some bikers were riding out, a Unimog in their midst. “Who the fuck are they?” was the call, so Flynn reached forward and drew the sniper rifle slung along the front of his bike.

Looking down the scope, he relayed what he saw to the gang. Twenty or so goons, heavily armed, none of them familiar, and the guy in the back of the Unimog had a minigun. Petra resolved to ride forward and meet them anyway, hoping to avoid needless violence if they could manage it, but had Flynn ride off to the side to cover the gang with his rifle.

Concealing himself in the brush, Flynn took up a covering position, and watched the gang advance down the barrel of his gun.