The beauty of thermite is that it destroys everything it touches, but doesn’t release a chemical cloud. It just eats itself, burns itself out.
"Yes! Direct hit!" Spoon cheers, turning back toward the ridge with a triumphant grin plastered across his young face. “f**k you and your f*****g drugs!”
"Spoon! Get down!" I roar, throwing myself forward over the mud lip. “Down!”
From underneath the smoking frame of the lead outrider, a wounded MC member drags himself through the gravel, raising a heavy sidearm with both hands and tracking the silhouette of the young prospect standing open on the exposed ledge.
Two sharp sounds split the freezing air:
Crack. c***k.
Spoon’s body jerks violently. The grin instantly vanishes from his face, replaced by a look of sheer, confused shock.
He stagge
