Trap at the Park

The fleet of vehicles was hot on Austin’s trail, exactly as he wanted. With a sharp skid, Austin twisted the handlebars and took a quick right turn, his tires squealing against the pavement. Ahead, he spotted the wide entrance to the park.

The green fields stretched out for at least five kilometers along the side, a beautiful, well-maintained landscape usually gated and protected to control the flow of visitors. It was one of Slough’s fancier parks, the kind that required upkeep and came with a cost.

But not tonight.

Tonight, all the barriers were gone. All that remained was this single entrance, left open on purpose, just for this moment.

Austin burst through the open gateway and tore across the grass. Behind him, the Ironfang convoy followed without hesitation. It wasn’t until about half the cars had entered the park that it began.

From the tree lines and hidden paths along either side of the park, a barrage of arrows rained down.