Maxima!!

TRACK 21: GOOD BOY

Chase couldn't get a read on Kira. As always, she'd forbidden him from riding shotgun until he had the age and height to earn his spot. He rocked in his seat -- cushy yet sleek, and a searing white like almost everything else in that luxurious interior. With enough movement, he caught glimpses of her in the rearview mirror. She'd turned into a machine, so silent and stilled he couldn't even tell if she breathed. Though the day's hours had worn on, Santa-In had more than enough sunlight to paint the town orange; none of those rays touched Kira. Shadows shrouded the upper half of her face, while her eyes -- laser-focused on the road ahead -- had darkened enough to snuff out a star.

He stared out the window and watched the city rush past. Amidst swaying palm trees and unlit neon tubes, he spotted the townsfolk that dared to live their lives -- a pitiful count that left the streets more than half-empty. The remainders looked at their phones. Heard the news. Broke off from their routines as anxiety crept in. Among them, protestors, ready to rally and riot.

Chase glanced at Kira again. Still silent. Still unmoved. Impossibly firm and tense. He assumed she wasn't capable of that iron stance, but he had the proof right there. On a whim, he stared at the spot where Kira grabbed him; that hold of hers left throbbing red marks deep in his skin.

Hours, days, weeks, months, years. It didn't matter.

He'd never been more scared.

His phone whirred in his pocket. Chase couldn't tell if Kira heard it, or even cared. Either way, he gave his screen a look. Ash had sent him a message, flanked, as always, by a bloody A atop a smiley face. What happened? she asked via red box.

Can you be more specific? he asked back.

How's Rosie doing?

Not well. That crap with Corbyn hit hard. Just typing that name made his blood turn to magma. Corbyn gave birth to a PR disaster, but he would walk away without a word against him. Somehow, somewhere, someone needed to punish him. One more on the list. One more rotten, power-drunk adult who needed --

Well, cheer her up.

Tried that. But Kira showed up, and now she's dragging me home. Won't be leaving anytime soon.

Ash filled a text box with a screaming face.

Is she still downtown?

Last I checked? Rosie was heading out.

Chase flinched. How much damage did she do?

Hard to keep things clean when you're too wide to squeeze between certain buildings. At any rate, she's heading for the coast, or somewhere near there.

Her place is near one of the gimped beaches past Midtown. She can lay low and be alone.

A trio of dots filled the screen, then vanished, then filled, then vanished. Is that okay?

Dunno. Chase tapped his ivory prison. But I can't do much from here.

Then I'll go to her.

Don't. She might have more protestors to shoo off. Better for you to stay back and avoid any crossfire.

Seriously?

I say we let her figure things out while we regroup. Chase took a deep breath. I can't lose her. She's my ace. As soon as I can point her in the right direction, I'll have her smash my way to a big win.

Ash's texts took a break once more.

This is gonna work out. No doubt.

Yeah.