Beepboop

<i><b>"We are outnumbered."</b> Eight's comment was rather obvious, but, she didn't reply to it right away. She was fighting the sway of the swerving driver as she took pot-shots at the drivers, the less trucks moving at her, the better. Of course, there were plenty of other cars coming at the pair, but, she needed to thin their herd. The blood that started to coat the sands behind them as the two were leading them on a chase across the sands. "Eight, how are your repairs?!" Nine rose up, jerking and stumbling forward as their rear-end was rammed, a group of Psycho's climbing over the front as a means to board their own. <b>"Repairs still in process."</b> Nine let out a grunt of frustration, but let the rifle disappear. She needed something less cumbersome, but before she had a chance to spawn in another weapon, the first buzzsaw was upon her. A leaping attack, the warcry of a blood-thirsty psychopath descended upon her, but she twisted out of the way, and gripped his arm. A hard pull back, and a sharp twist spun the meat and bones like one rings out a towel. She ignored the now screams of pain, leaning back far enough to avoid the next swing. Damnit, she cursed under her breath, and using the psycho still in her grip, she lifted him up, via the useless arm, and threw him, and the other off. She watched the two roll away into the dirt, just in time to notice the midget's missile flying towards them. She twisted her torso, a narrow gaze watching the rocket spiral past her, and into the sand behind. That was rude, and she showed this via a flip of the bird, which probably was one of the other reasons he got frustrated. She was getting ready for the retaliation rocket, running over to try and dislodge the truck that was stuck on their backside, but when all she heard was the harsh <b>thwack</b> of metal to skull, she glanced back over. Well...she wasn't expecting any help, Even less so expecting the Gladiator of Atlas, or at least Ex-Gladiator. Nine narrowed her eyes, conjuring a sniper rifle into her arms and taking scope towards their savior. If Athena caught that, all she'd see was Nine's aim, then a shot, the bullet whizzing past her head, and fitting snuggly into a Psycho's skull that was trying to get on the buggy behind her. Just what was she doing here? She gave Athena a small wave, kicking her foot through the engine block of the truck on their backside and letting it lose speed. "Eight, looks like we have company. Let's give them a venue." Eight nodded, releasing the steering wheel, and started to trade spots with Nine. There was static on Athena's Echo-Device, a brief, yet startling moment of interference before Nine's voice was heard. "I wasn't expecting a Guardian Angel to come help us out. Don't mind my intrusion. But, we have some...valuable data we liberated from these bandits, and wouldn't mind compensating for the assist. If you want to distract Big Pete, we'll handle the rest." Her head turned to look in the mirror as Athena began to move towards them. Nine's driving was much less sporadic than Eight's probably because she fit in the seat, but she had a lay of the land, and already calculated the next course they would take. If Athena was willing to distract the leader, then Nine and Eight could lead the pack away to be dealt with. But, as she looked in the mirror again, she suddenly swerved to the right, a missle impacting the space between the two as Big Pete was getting mighty pissed. His mech was speeding forward now, tossing his fellow men's own cars to the side in an attempt to get closer to the pair, all the while Eight's minigun had returned fire, the spray of bullets sparking against the layers and layers of scrap metal. Nine hoped she really did want to deal with this, glancing towards the Gladiator once more, then turning harshly towards her to force Pete's own path to intersect with Athena's.