this is random. Wishful thinking. My date is ruined before it’s even started.
“Hell with it,” I growl, and throw the car into reverse.
The Mogs immediately fan out, trying to cut off my escape. As if I won’t run them over. I rev the engine and peel out, forcing one of the Mogs to dive out of the way. As I shoot by, I see the others already scrambling into the van.
“What are you doing?!” screams Maddy.
“I think one of them had a gun,” I shout back, weaving around a slow-moving sedan.
“Are you nuts? Stanley, slow down!”
I do the opposite. Flooring it, I blow through a red light. The convertible’s tires screech as I jerk the wheel hard left, nearly fishtailing us through a turn. Maddy is thrown against her seat belt and I wince as she cries out in pain.
In the rearview, I see the Mog van cut off by traffic. I realize that I’ve been holding my breath and let an exhale hiss through my teeth.
“Let me out,” says Maddy. “Let me out of this car right now.”
I start to slow down, trying to blend into the rest of the traffic. That’s not going to be easy considering my flashy car. I hope Sandor’s out there somewhere watching this all go down on his network of hacked cameras, that he’s sending a drone to bail me out as we speak.
The iMog in my pocket vibrates with renewed vigor.
“Hold on,” I say, punching the gas just as the Mog’s van comes barreling out of a side street, nearly clipping the convertible’s bumper.
The van is riding hard on our tail, trying to grind us off the road. Other cars let loose whining honks as we speed down the middle of the road. Maddy looks over her shoulder, staring in horror at the van bearing down on us and its stone-faced driver.
“They’re right behind us.” Her voice is almost a whisper. Her hand is clutching my arm, nails digging right through my shirt. “Why is this happening?”
I don’t respond; there’s no lie I can think of that could possibly explain it.
With sweaty fingers, I flick open a hidden panel on the steering wheel. Sandor planned for this sort of thing.
“Sit back,” I warn. Maddy looks at me, her frightened expression apparently not reserved just for the Mogs.
I hit the button for nitrous oxide.
The convertible’s engine roars and then bucks and for a moment I’m worried the car can’t handle Sandor’s modification. Then, with a gut punch of pressure, it screams forward.
We’re going way over the speed limit. I’m too afraid to check the speedometer, keeping my eyes pinned to the road as I weave through traffic. Maddy is glued to her seat, terrified. Seeing us coming, other cars try to move out of the way. Red traffic lights fly by. I hear a siren and, briefly, blue lights flash across my rearview, but any cops are outdistanced before they can even make out my license plate. We’re a blur.
I keep driving until my iMog stops vibrating, and then I swing the car into a secluded alley and kill the lights.
My body hums with adrenaline. I can’t believe what I just did, evading a pack of Mogs in a high-speed chase like something out of a movie. I’m an action hero. A mixture of euphoria and relief hits me.
And I don’t really know where the next part comes from. Maybe it’s pure adrenaline or maybe I’m just going totally crazy. But before I even realize I’m doing it, I lean into Maddy and start to kiss her.
I guess it wasn’t the right thing to do.
“You bastard!” Maddy cries, pushing me away. She throws open her door, knocking over some nearby trash cans. In the dim light of the alley I can see that her beautiful face is streaked with tears.
Stunned from her reaction, I don’t say anything as she runs out of the alley.
Alone in Sandor’s banged-up convertible, I’m left to ponder the adventure-filled life of a Loric hero.
Chapter Seventeen
I abandon the convertible in the alley and head back to the John Hancock building on foot. I stick to side streets and back alleys as much as possible. My
“Hell with it,” I growl, and throw the car into reverse.
The Mogs immediately fan out, trying to cut off my escape. As if I won’t run them over. I rev the engine and peel out, forcing one of the Mogs to dive out of the way. As I shoot by, I see the others already scrambling into the van.
“What are you doing?!” screams Maddy.
“I think one of them had a gun,” I shout back, weaving around a slow-moving sedan.
“Are you nuts? Stanley, slow down!”
I do the opposite. Flooring it, I blow through a red light. The convertible’s tires screech as I jerk the wheel hard left, nearly fishtailing us through a turn. Maddy is thrown against her seat belt and I wince as she cries out in pain.
In the rearview, I see the Mog van cut off by traffic. I realize that I’ve been holding my breath and let an exhale hiss through my teeth.
“Let me out,” says Maddy. “Let me out of this car right now.”
I start to slow down, trying to blend into the rest of the traffic. That’s not going to be easy considering my flashy car. I hope Sandor’s out there somewhere watching this all go down on his network of hacked cameras, that he’s sending a drone to bail me out as we speak.
The iMog in my pocket vibrates with renewed vigor.
“Hold on,” I say, punching the gas just as the Mog’s van comes barreling out of a side street, nearly clipping the convertible’s bumper.
The van is riding hard on our tail, trying to grind us off the road. Other cars let loose whining honks as we speed down the middle of the road. Maddy looks over her shoulder, staring in horror at the van bearing down on us and its stone-faced driver.
“They’re right behind us.” Her voice is almost a whisper. Her hand is clutching my arm, nails digging right through my shirt. “Why is this happening?”
I don’t respond; there’s no lie I can think of that could possibly explain it.
With sweaty fingers, I flick open a hidden panel on the steering wheel. Sandor planned for this sort of thing.
“Sit back,” I warn. Maddy looks at me, her frightened expression apparently not reserved just for the Mogs.
I hit the button for nitrous oxide.
The convertible’s engine roars and then bucks and for a moment I’m worried the car can’t handle Sandor’s modification. Then, with a gut punch of pressure, it screams forward.
We’re going way over the speed limit. I’m too afraid to check the speedometer, keeping my eyes pinned to the road as I weave through traffic. Maddy is glued to her seat, terrified. Seeing us coming, other cars try to move out of the way. Red traffic lights fly by. I hear a siren and, briefly, blue lights flash across my rearview, but any cops are outdistanced before they can even make out my license plate. We’re a blur.
I keep driving until my iMog stops vibrating, and then I swing the car into a secluded alley and kill the lights.
My body hums with adrenaline. I can’t believe what I just did, evading a pack of Mogs in a high-speed chase like something out of a movie. I’m an action hero. A mixture of euphoria and relief hits me.
And I don’t really know where the next part comes from. Maybe it’s pure adrenaline or maybe I’m just going totally crazy. But before I even realize I’m doing it, I lean into Maddy and start to kiss her.
I guess it wasn’t the right thing to do.
“You bastard!” Maddy cries, pushing me away. She throws open her door, knocking over some nearby trash cans. In the dim light of the alley I can see that her beautiful face is streaked with tears.
Stunned from her reaction, I don’t say anything as she runs out of the alley.
Alone in Sandor’s banged-up convertible, I’m left to ponder the adventure-filled life of a Loric hero.
Chapter Seventeen
I abandon the convertible in the alley and head back to the John Hancock building on foot. I stick to side streets and back alleys as much as possible. My
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