t Talisman, or the Sky Voices, or whatever

power it was that plots the course of the world and the men who serve

it, brought Mr Snow back to his senses and gave him the earth-forces to

command. Swept by a terrible premonition of danger, he staggered to

his feet then, as the strength flooded back into his limbs and his mind

cleared, he ran forward, down and up over the rise, reaching the crest

in time to see the three napalm canisters burst among the M'Call Bears;

saw the flame blossom and unfold like the black-edged petals of a giant

flower, heavy with the scent of death. A jolting current galvanised

his leg and stomach muscles; made him gasp for air. He became rooted

to the earth as the forces flowed through him. He flung out his arms,

fists clenched at the sky and a blood-chilling ululating cry burst from

his throat.

The response was almost immediate. A shrill whistling rushing sound

built up to a frightening crescendo. It was as if the whole sky had

become the mouth of a giant sucking in air then expelling it with

terrible force. A mighty wind swept down from the mountains behind Mr

Snow, tearing at the tops of the trees. It whirled and screamed around

his head then swept upwards, sending Jodi's Skyhawk cartwheeling across

the sky like a kite that has snapped its string. As she fought

desperately to regain control, she heard a sharp dry cracking sound

like a felled tree tearing itself loose from its almost severed

trunk.

The sky exploded with a terrifying, ear-splitting roar; was filled with

blinding light. As the Skyhawk whirled round, a searing image burned

itself into Jodi's brain like a night scene suddenly revealed by a

photographer's flash-bulb. A great shaft of lightning ripped across

the heavens, divided in two, and struck Booker and Yates. The

split-second horror was slowed by Jodi's brain into a gruesome

slow-motion sequence as the two Skyhawks burst apart like ripped bags

of confetti, then were immediately enguffed in an explosion of flame as

their load of napalm ignited. Two great splashes of orange were

suddenly smeared across the blue canvas of the sky, incinerating the

pilots and the falling debris. The bits that remained were scattered

by the driving wind, like flurries of sparks from burning pine

branches.

A new blast of wind hit Jodi, this time from the west, creating a

maelstrom of turbulence as it met the storm-bringer from the east.

Clouds built up at a terrifying rate and, in what seemed like a matter

of minutes, a towering anvil-head of cumulo-nimbus rose to blot out the

sun. More lightning forked out of the sky. Jodi quickly pulled the

lever that would jettison the three napalm tanks she was still carrying

and tried to fly her way out of the bad weather. It was a losing

battle; some malevolent force seemed to be drawing her into the heart

of the storm.

Down on the ground, the thunder and lightning that had destroyed Booker

and Yates and put Kazan in peril had been heard but the noise had been

muted by the multi-walled skin of the wagon train. The persistent

layer of mist and low-cloud also prevented Hartmann and his execs from

being aware of the storm clouds forming over the valley.

They did, however, detect the onset of the rain. And it was about the

same time that Hartmann began to take increasing note of the steepening

river banks and decided to check their position on the map with the

Navigator, Captain Ryder. Hartmann was also worried about the sudden

increase in radio static which had rendered transmissions from Kazan

virtually unintelligible.

A few moments' intensive study of the route taken by Interstate 80

showed no match with their present position and the rapidly growing

feeling that they were rolling along a dry river bed was reinforced by

the growing stream of water now washing round the bend ahead and

between the sets of huge wheels. Hartmann realised that he could quite

easily go into reverse. Both command cars had the full range of

controls. Like many pre-historic streetcars, the head and tail of the

'snake' were interchangeable. Hartmann decided instead to press on.

It was, arguably, his third mistake of the day. What he was hoping to

find around the next bend was a break in the bank through which The

Lady could climb out and get back onto course.