The group gathered supplies while Sahiro slipped into a fresh set of clean clothes. Walentrya changed out of her waitress uniform into what she normally wore: a white headband, a denim jacket over a gray shirt, a black necklace with a small flower charm, gray jeans, and a pair of Converse.

  Cadoc squinted at her shoes. “You’re wearing Converse to the snowy mountains?”

  “These are the only shoes available to me right now,” Walentrya replied flatly.

  “I know your whole foot’s gonna get soaked.”

  “How about you shut the fuck up, yeah?”

  Walentrya called the group to the center of the apartment. “Alright, listen up! We’re taking a plane. The boss already paid for our tickets, so we need to move fast—before Gennadi finds out.”

  They filed out, and Walentrya locked the door behind her. Radford noticed the nervous look on Sahiro’s face.

  “Hey,” he said quietly, “cheer up, man. Look at the bright side. At least you’re going somewhere new.”

  “This is not a field trip,” Walentrya cut in. “We’re on a mission. No sightseeing. Understand?”

  “SIR YES, SIR!” Cadoc barked, snapping a salute. The guys chuckled while Yankira and Walentrya sighed in perfect sync. They piled into Radford’s car. Walentrya took the passenger seat while Yankira, Cadoc, and Sahiro squeezed into the back.

  “The nearest airport, right?” Radford asked as he started the engine.

  “No,” Walentrya said. “Great View Flights.”

  Radford blinked. “What? How the hell could the boss afford that?”

  “The boss has ties to Great View, the company,” Yankira explained. “I’m guessing they already know we’re coming.”

  “Correct,” Walentrya replied. “Everyone, stay sharp. It’s a thirty-minute drive, and Gennadi’s people could show up at any moment.”

  The car pulled onto the road. Ten minutes in, Sahiro was staring out the window, Cadoc was fidgeting with a couple of coins in his pocket, and Yankira was polishing a small metal rod. Near a narrow alley, Sahiro noticed a man smoking a cigarette, staring directly at the car with a sinister expression. Sahiro turned back and saw that the man was not there anymore. He told himself it was nothing, then turned back toward the front of the seat, forcing the image out of his mind.

  He sat quietly as the group approached the airport. Ten minutes later, the car abruptly swerved left. Walentrya’s eyes widened. “What the hell, Radford? We were supposed to keep going straight!”

  Radford’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Um… you’re not gonna believe this, but I didn’t make the turn.”

  Silence fell over the car; it wasn’t like Radford to make a wrong turn – or even make a mistake. He had nearly perfect grades in every class. Something was clearly wrong. Then the car came to a sudden stop in the middle of the road.

  “Okay,” Yankira said slowly, “what the hell is going on?”

  “You didn’t take any LSD before driving, right, Rad?” Cadoc asked.

  “Fuck no!” Radford snapped. “I’m pressing the gas—it’s not moving!” His foot slammed against the pedal. The engine roared, but the tires didn’t budge. It was like the car was stuck in park. Then the gear shift moved on its own. It slid into reverse, slowly at first. Walentrya stared at the console. “What the hell…”

  “Guys, look!” Sahiro pointed ahead at a gas station, and the car suddenly accelerated backward toward it.

  “FUCK—WHAT DO WE DO?!” Radford shouted. “Rad! Open a window!” Cadoc yelled.

  Radford hit the button. The back window rolled down. Cadoc pulled a pen from his pocket and pressed his thumb against it. The metal shimmered for a split second.

  “EVERYONE GRAB ONTO ME!”

  They wrapped their arms around him just as he hurled the pen out the window. The world snapped inward, and they were sucked into the pen. Outside, the empty car slammed into the gas station. The explosion was instant. Fire swallowed the pumps; the shockwave rattled the pen where it lay on the pavement.

  Moments later, the pen vibrated and released them onto the concrete nearby. Cadoc snatched it up and stuffed it into his jacket. They turned toward the destruction. Flames towered into the sky, cars that had simply been refueling were engulfed, people ran screaming, some didn’t run at all.

  They slipped into a nearby alley, out of sight. Yankira exhaled sharply. “Can anyone explain what the hell just happened?”

  “Someone was controlling the car,” Walentrya said, “and it wasn’t Radford.”

  “This is Gennadi,” Radford muttered. “It has to be.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “His followers are already onto us,” Walentrya said. “He must know about the plan.”

  Sahiro looked at her. “What’s the plan, sis?”

  Walentrya’s eyes hardened. “We find whoever did this,” she said, “and we take him out.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to look much longer.”

  The voice came from above. The group looked up, and standing on the roof was the same man Sahiro had seen in the alley earlier—the one with the cigarette. Only now, he wasn’t wearing the eye patch. His left eye was stitched shut with thick red thread. His short orange hair framed a pale, almost amused expression. He wore a white tank top, black latex sleeves and gloves, camo pants, and boots.

  “Who the fuck is that?” Cadoc muttered.

  The man smiled. “My name is Maxim Varfolomei,” he said calmly, “and I’m sending you five to the fifth circle of hell.”

  He jumped, the impact of his landing cracked the pavement and sent a shockwave through the alley, launching the group into the air. Before anyone could react, he moved. Radford was grabbed by the leg and hurled into a wall. Yankira and Cadoc were seized by their collars and slammed into metal railings. Walentrya was caught by the throat and driven into the ground with brute force. Only Sahiro remained; he gripped him by the head, lifting him slightly.

  “That was easier than I thought,” Maxim said. “Guess you weren’t much of a problem as Gennadi claimed.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t get so cocky… dick.”

  Sahiro’s eyes turned pure white. Energy ignited his fist. Maxim didn’t look worried; he smirked. Sahiro drove a punch into Maxim’s chest, launching him out of the alley and into the street. But as Sahiro followed up, Maxim caught the second strike mid-swing. He twisted Sahiro’s arm and hurled him straight into oncoming traffic.

  Back in the alley, Cadoc groaned as he pushed himself up. “Did anyone get the number of that train?” He looked around, Radford – down. Yankira – down. Walentrya – down. Only Sahiro was still fighting. Cadoc stumbled out of the alley just in time to see the cars suddenly veer off course – engines roaring, horns blaring – all converging on Sahiro.

  Sahiro barely had time to react. He leapt straight up as two cars collided beneath him. “What the hell is going on?” he shouted. He landed – and more cars came from every direction. Maxim stepped forward casually.

  “Well done, Sahiro. You aren’t as dumb as I thought. Doesn’t matter, really.”

  Sahiro’s eyes narrowed. “I see what’s going on now. You’re the one controlling these cars.”

  Maxim clapped slowly. “You caught me. Even a monkey could’ve figured that out.”

  “So, you were controlling our car, too. You tried to kill us all at once.”

  “Correct.” Maxim slowly pulled off his left glove. Embedded in his palm was a small metal button. Wires snaked beneath his skin, running up his arm toward his skull. “My ability allows me to control engines. Any car. Doesn’t matter who’s driving.” He tapped the device. “All I have to do is look at it.”

  His stitched eye twitched slightly. “And now,” Maxim said calmly, “this is the end of you, Sahiro Macario.”

  From the alley, Cadoc made a decision. He pulled his pen and pressed his thumb against it. The metal shimmered, and he hurled it toward Sahiro. “SAHIRO!” Sahiro turned just in time. The pen flew into his hand, and his body vanished. The pen dropped to the pavement as the cars tore through the space where he had been. A second later, the pen skidded back toward Cadoc. He grabbed it and shoved it into his pocket.

  “I’ll tell you when to come out, buddy,” Cadoc muttered under his breath.

  He leapt onto the hood of one of the stalled cars and launched a punch at Maxim, but the hood suddenly snapped upward, smashing into Cadoc’s chest and knocking him off balance. He fell and improvised. Cadoc drove his elbow down as he dropped, slamming it into Maxim’s skull and sending him face-first into the pavement. The impact split the skin above Maxim’s brow. A thin line of blood was trailing down his face.

  Maxim smiled. He wiped the blood away slowly. Cadoc landed in front of him just as one of the cars launched forward again. He was ready; he stepped aside smoothly. In the distance, sirens began to echo. Smoke from the gas station fire drifted higher into the sky. Civilians were still screaming further down the street – people were scrambling from wrecked vehicles, some injured, some avoiding death. One wrong move, and this would turn into another massacre.

  Maxim tilted his head. “What? Sahiro was too much of a wimp, hiding inside your little pen?”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Cadoc grinned. “He was just the appetizer, you’re in deep shit now, bucko.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins, casually juggling them. Maxim blinked. “Are you serious? I’m about to kill you, and you’re juggling?”

  “Keep your eyes open, kid,” Cadoc said lightly, “I’m about to do a magic trick.”

  The coins hit the pavement. Instantly, every surrounding car collapsed inward, metal folding unnaturally as they were sucked into the coins like whirlpools of steel. Engines screamed, glass shattered, then silence. The street was suddenly empty. No more civilian casualties, no more runaway vehicles.

  Maxim’s expression shifted from irritation to genuine confusion. “What?” he hissed. “How was that possible?”

  “Simple,” Cadoc replied proudly. “The juggling was a distraction. I pressed my thumb on the coins while we were talking and activated them. I already tagged the cars before you noticed.” He shrugged. “Plus, I’d get bored doing it the normal way.”

  Maxim roared and charged. But before he reached Cadoc, he flicked his wrist and hurled the pen, piercing straight through Maxim’s good eye. Maxim screamed – a raw, animal sound – clutching his face as blood poured between his fingers. The pen clattered to the ground, beginning to shake. Sahiro emerged from it, cracking his knuckles slowly. He grabbed Maxim by the collar and spun him around. Then drove a brutal punch into his face. Maxim hit the pavement hard.

  Cadoc winced. “Geez. You punched a blind guy? Tsk, tsk, Sahiro.”

  “When I met him,” Sahiro replied calmly, “he wasn’t blind.”

  The two high-fived, but Sahiro’s eyes drifted briefly to distant wreckage – the smoke, the flashing lights, civilians being pulled from the cars. Too close, again.

  “C’mon,” Cadoc said. “We gotta help the rest.”

  They ran back into the alley, helping Radford, Yankira, and Walentrya to their feet. “Where’s Maxim?” Walentrya asked. Sahiro pointed toward the street. Maxim lay in a widening pool of blood. “Guess he was all talk,” Radford muttered.

  Yankira looked toward the skyline. “How far are we from the airport?”

  Walentrya pointed over the hill. The large G.V.F.s were visible in the distance. “Ten minutes on foot. Maybe less.”

  “Then we move,” Radford said. “Before Gennadi sends more body bags.”

  They started walking toward the airport, Sahiro walked in silence – until something grabbed his ankle. He looked down to see it was Maxim, barely conscious, his fingers slick of blood. He looked up at Sahiro, one stitched eye, one ruined eye. He whispered: “Death comes for us all… take your friends for granted, Sahiro… before they all perish.”

  His grip loosened, his hand dropped. Sahiro stepped forward without responding, but he understood. He understood completely. Maxim’s face stayed with him, the warning he gave him, the certainty in his voice. This mission isn’t just a fight. It’s life or death. These powers… they change everything. He clenched his fists as they walked. “I will protect them,” he told himself. “My friends, my sister. Even if it costs me my life.”