The next few minutes are going to be frantic. The dreg rider snarls right back at Furiosa, ducking when she shoots. At that range, though, even wild shots can hardly miss and a couple of rounds sink into the dreg’s near shoulder. Its cry of pain is lost in the roar of engines and grind of metal… but it holds on, hunching over the bike and driving it right into the snowmobile.

It’s going to become a grinding push and pull of locked horns, each trying to force the other out of control. There’s no help on that side, either. Somewhere in the chaos a couple of other Fallen bikes separate out the left escort rider, and they’re chasing him into the trees. The other tries to drop around and help, only to find the rest of the pack shooting up his tail.

They’re on a different trail to the one they came now, cutting straight where they detoured earlier. And out of the haze ahead looms a new threat: the great stump and splintered end of a broken tree. The locked vehicles are rushing straight for it.

This will either be a gift, or a lethal disaster.