store shattered, and the owner’s red moped spiraled down the street. The Petrovic brothers were blasted into the air, landing hard on the pavement.
When Peyton used her tablet to remotely detonate the bomb that Gavin had installed under the car, her timing was flawless: to any observer it looked as if I had used the power of my mind to cause the explosion.
I rushed to the masked men lying in the street and bound their hands with zip ties while they moaned in agony. They were injured, and one had his shirt completely burned off his back, but they all survived the blast.
The crowd surrounding the flaming car was growing, and a number of people were filming the event on their phones and wrist-coms. I heard murmurs about superhumans, and psychic powers. Things were going as planned.
I started to make my way back to the van when Gavin shouted into my ear piece, < You can’t just leave like that , Mox. Say something heroic. >
“Heroic?” I whispered. “What the hell?”
< Make an impression , > he said insistently.
I turned back to the scene of the crime. As one of the masked men shuffled to his knees, I sprinted towards him, burying my thick metal boot in the center of his chest. He fell over and hit the road with a dull thud. “That’s what happens when someone commits a crime in my town!” I shouted, raising my fist in the air.
< We really should have discussed catchphrases beforehand, > Gavin groaned.
Peyton dropped a smoke grenade outside the window of the van, creating some cover for my return. As I turned to leave, Gavin shouted once more, < You forgot, this is the big moment! >
Up to that point, what I was about to do was the most terrifying moment of my life; even more terrifying than being shot just seconds before. But it was the most critical part of the plan. Everything hinged on it.
I stopped, removed my helmet, and looked directly up at the nearest security camera.
“You’re already on iTube,” Peyton shouted from the backseat. “two thousand hits, and it’s only been online for a minute. Not bad.”
Gavin weaved our getaway van in and out of traffic, tilting us from side to side with each rapid lane change. He turned down an alley and screeched to a halt next to a dumpster. Gavin parked the van, jumped out and used a screwdriver to pry off the out-of-state licence plates, revealing the fresh ones underneath. He tossed the old plates into the trash and got back into the driver’s seat, pulling away as quickly as we’d arrived. He certainly had a knack for criminal activity.
As we sped off, I felt a tightening in my chest. My head was spinning, and I couldn’t tell whether I was having a panic attack, if my tumor was going to cause another blackout, or a combination of the two. I popped open my small prescription bottle and shook two pills into my palm, forcing them down my throat with an uncomfortable dry swallow.
“You okay?” Gavin asked as he merged into traffic. “I think that went pretty well back there. Aside from the dialogue issues, I mean.”
Peyton reached into the front seat and massaged the back of my neck. “You were amazing , Matty. That couldn’t have gone better.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded. Everything went according to plan, and our gambles paid off. The Petrovic brothers took the car that Gavin had supplied them with, and more importantly, they used his ammunition.
The low velocity round did very little damage when it bounced off of my chest plate, so there wasn’t much risk of injury, but there was no guarantee that one of them wouldn’t swap out Gavin’s bullets with something more powerful prior to the heist. Military-grade bullets were expensive and difficult to come by, but they were all the rage in the Dark Zone; a week didn’t go by when there wasn’t a report of some exotic designer bullet being introduced to the black market. The names for the exciting new killing tools were as impressive as the destruction they caused: the Dragon
When Peyton used her tablet to remotely detonate the bomb that Gavin had installed under the car, her timing was flawless: to any observer it looked as if I had used the power of my mind to cause the explosion.
I rushed to the masked men lying in the street and bound their hands with zip ties while they moaned in agony. They were injured, and one had his shirt completely burned off his back, but they all survived the blast.
The crowd surrounding the flaming car was growing, and a number of people were filming the event on their phones and wrist-coms. I heard murmurs about superhumans, and psychic powers. Things were going as planned.
I started to make my way back to the van when Gavin shouted into my ear piece, < You can’t just leave like that , Mox. Say something heroic. >
“Heroic?” I whispered. “What the hell?”
< Make an impression , > he said insistently.
I turned back to the scene of the crime. As one of the masked men shuffled to his knees, I sprinted towards him, burying my thick metal boot in the center of his chest. He fell over and hit the road with a dull thud. “That’s what happens when someone commits a crime in my town!” I shouted, raising my fist in the air.
< We really should have discussed catchphrases beforehand, > Gavin groaned.
Peyton dropped a smoke grenade outside the window of the van, creating some cover for my return. As I turned to leave, Gavin shouted once more, < You forgot, this is the big moment! >
Up to that point, what I was about to do was the most terrifying moment of my life; even more terrifying than being shot just seconds before. But it was the most critical part of the plan. Everything hinged on it.
I stopped, removed my helmet, and looked directly up at the nearest security camera.
“You’re already on iTube,” Peyton shouted from the backseat. “two thousand hits, and it’s only been online for a minute. Not bad.”
Gavin weaved our getaway van in and out of traffic, tilting us from side to side with each rapid lane change. He turned down an alley and screeched to a halt next to a dumpster. Gavin parked the van, jumped out and used a screwdriver to pry off the out-of-state licence plates, revealing the fresh ones underneath. He tossed the old plates into the trash and got back into the driver’s seat, pulling away as quickly as we’d arrived. He certainly had a knack for criminal activity.
As we sped off, I felt a tightening in my chest. My head was spinning, and I couldn’t tell whether I was having a panic attack, if my tumor was going to cause another blackout, or a combination of the two. I popped open my small prescription bottle and shook two pills into my palm, forcing them down my throat with an uncomfortable dry swallow.
“You okay?” Gavin asked as he merged into traffic. “I think that went pretty well back there. Aside from the dialogue issues, I mean.”
Peyton reached into the front seat and massaged the back of my neck. “You were amazing , Matty. That couldn’t have gone better.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded. Everything went according to plan, and our gambles paid off. The Petrovic brothers took the car that Gavin had supplied them with, and more importantly, they used his ammunition.
The low velocity round did very little damage when it bounced off of my chest plate, so there wasn’t much risk of injury, but there was no guarantee that one of them wouldn’t swap out Gavin’s bullets with something more powerful prior to the heist. Military-grade bullets were expensive and difficult to come by, but they were all the rage in the Dark Zone; a week didn’t go by when there wasn’t a report of some exotic designer bullet being introduced to the black market. The names for the exciting new killing tools were as impressive as the destruction they caused: the Dragon
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