Hoshi’s hands worked furiously, doling out spays of Potion with one as the other fumbled at his belt. “C’mon, stupid- there we go!”

  The Mini-Dex hit the lens of Champion’s ball – and failed to connect. Hoshi blinked for a second, flummoxed, before his brain turned back on and his expression darkened to a snarl. “Fuck!” Right, only works with Rocket Balls. Dumbass mistake. With a breath, he forced himself back to a semblance of calm. Need to stop panicking. We’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way later.

  After dealing with this shitstorm. “Mimi, how close are they?”

  The woman – who was standing on Puce’s shoulders – retracted her head back through the opened sunroof. “‘Bout, eh, maybe twenty seconds away? I knew arcanine were fast, but woah. Still only three of ‘em though, the blues haven’t released anything else.”

  They will when they catch up. “Cliff, you good to fight?”

  The northerner nodded, though Hoshi noted that the gesture came with a subtle wince. “I can’t move fast, but my Pokémon are fine.”

  “Good enough. We-”

  “Mutsu,” Ryan called as he stepped away from the starboard window. “I’m opening the doors. Very few of our ground-bound Pokémon could catch back up if they fell off the roof – safer to attack from inside.”

  Open up a huge hole ourselves? Yeah, great idea you- gah. Hoshi tamped down on the instinctive urge to argue, again forcing himself to not fly off the handle. “Right, do that. And on that note, who does have a ‘mon that can keep up?” I can’t remember everything – Mimi’s got an arcanine of her own, right? Bart has that jolteon, and… His brain felt like it was a stripped screw; turning and turning without actually doing anything. Fuck, I might actually have a concussion from that Dragon Rage. Back to basics – what can I do to fight the Jennys?

  As he thought, Mimi called down to reinforce his memory. “I’ve got two, Bart’s got a couple, I think the kid does too..?”

  “I have a fearow,” Tor partially agreed, “But Noctowl might be too slow.”

  “I also have some fast fliers,” Ryan cut in as he fiddled with the door’s latch, which was just a solid bar set between two holders. Holsters? Whatever. The setup was crude, but effective enough. “But I don’t think we have time to-”

  “Eep!” Mimi cried, and ducked in as something slammed down atop the trailer. Welp, time’s up; we’re being boarded.

  Another cry, still feminine but authoritative, found its way inside. “This is the police! Pull over, now!”

  Yeah, time’s definitely up. Hoshi dropped the empty Potion canister as Guts bristled. He wasn’t sure if she and Crow were completely healed – the damage Champion had inflicted was spread-out and visually subtle enough that even a serious inspection might not be enough – but it would have to do. “Flyers!” he ordered as sounds began overlapping, voices mixing with the electronic warble of opening Pokéballs and a sudden rush of wind as Ryan managed to unlatch the doors. “Get ‘em outside! Everybody else, make ranks! Keep a reserve in case they break in!”

  His own grunts were used to training together, and half the other Rockets were older, with experience to fall back on – but even so, it was almost eerie how smoothly everyone moved. Puce shoved Mimi up to the roof before jumping and hoisting herself up; Ryan took charge of Tor and his friends while Casca released her new corphish and ludicolo; Bart’s team formed a double line, taller Pokémon getting behind shorter ones in a manoeuvre that Hoshi was pretty sure he’d need days of practice to get right.

  The truck jumped as a venusaur appeared in the back, then again as a rapidash and arcanine leapt from the roof, their bright bodies visible through the windows, then again as two fearow, a spearow, and Ryan’s charizard appeared and flew out. The latter’s wings almost touched both walls; it might’ve lost the dragon typing of its ancestors, but it was still an impressive Pokémon.

  And Hoshi…

  Hoshi experienced the briefest moment of transcendental fear. He saw a blade flash in his mind’s eye as blood spilled, and his eyes snapped to the scar bisecting his primeape’s face as he tried to swallow the emotion down.

  It won’t be like that again. It won’t. “Venus,” you’ve got no ranged moves, “In the back; keep an eye on the roof. Guts, in front. Crow…” Her body’s changed so much. Damnit, I should’ve taken a second to check if she can fly straight – did she fly last night? The fear was tough, slow and cold as glacial ice, freezing the moment between words like time was looking down and wagging its finger to say no hesitating, now. “…Outside. Stay high, use Supersonic and your new move!” Probably Screech, if I had to guess; some kind of non-attack, at least.

  Already moves were being exchanged; through the tightly packed bodies he caught glimpses of flame and sparkling bubbles, lightning bolts and shooting stars. The hesitation had cost him, and now Hoshi was stuck at nearly the very back, only Cliff and a few defensive Pokémon behind him. I can’t see. Fuck! How many are there? Jennys usually have at least two Pokémon each, but these are route guards – is that better or worse?

  His hand stung and throbbed like it was burned, the skin of his palm bleeding sluggishly as he flexed it. He longing to send out his other two new, hopefully-stable Pokémon – but the truck was packed tight. Do I do it anyway? If-

  A gunshot, clear and obvious even in the din of battle, and Hoshi started to muscle through the crowd.

  “Holy fuckin’ shit!”

  “Language!”

  The wheel felt like it weighed two thousand pounds in his hands, heavy and dense and impossible to turn as he replied. “I ain’t in Arcus damned school right nowI!” It wasn’t like riding a bike at all, or even a normal car – what was the expression..? A millstone. It was like a millstone on his back, and he was trying to fucking swim. Kenny frantically cranked his head left and right, trying to keep an eye on the battle while avoiding both other vehicles and the stone barriers lining the road. The only thing keeping him from freaking the fuck out was the fact that there were basically no other cars on the road.

  Just bikes, scattering like little bugs as the massive semi truck rushed forward, a Pokémon battle unfolding on its fucking roof. “Are ya gonna do somethin’?!” he bellowed, fear overpowering the natural instinct to not yell at the people who signed his paychecks. “There’re three of ‘em!”

  His eyes took a detour from their frantic back-and-forth to glance at the rearview mirror, a feature he didn’t think the sort of vehicle he was driving usually had – the thing was completely useless for actually looking behind the truck, seeing as there was a giant trailer in the way. Instead, it was tilted down so he could look into the back seat without turning.

  Jessie and James glanced back, expressions calm. “No need to worry, Grunt,” the former said. “As you pointed out, there are only three of them; the other grunts and Enforcer Moon will take care of it.”

  “Yes,” James continued with a nod. “We need to stay on our toes for when the Ranger shows up.”

  “There should be at least the one running around somewhere ahead – maybe even more than that. This is an important route.”

  “Meow,” Meowth finished from below the mirror’s edge.

  Kenny groaned as a Flamethrower burst off the roof, hitting the road and leaving a line of glowing-hot asphalt behind them. “Well that’s fuckin’ great to hear, but the truck won’t hold up long ‘n this kinda battle! ‘S a freighter, not a tank!” As if to illustrate his point, some dumbass used Earthquake and the entire vehicle jumped like a startled cat, rubber wheels bounding up and down as the shocks struggled to compensate.

  But despite the vibrations rattling their collective teeth so hard Kenny’s eyes watered, the two Executives were nonplussed. “Again,” James started, the rest of the sentence being taken up by Jessie.

  “There are only three of them, versus the ten Rockets in the back. Just focus on the road, and everything will be fine.”

  And then, as if to illustrate her point, some other idiot – this one outside the truck, at least – decided that it was a great idea to butt into their police chase. One of the many motorcycles veered in instead of away, and Kenny struggled to haul the wheel hard enough to just barely avoid smashing the jerk into paste. “Hey!” the biker called, his voice muffled by the thick glass between his mouth and their ears. “You Rocket?”

  For a moment Kenny could only boggle at the fatass as he rode beside them, two thinner dudes and a chick wearing a bandanna also sidling up. Who..? They were all decked out in the same shade of purple; some kinda gang, then.

  The confusion continued as Jessie actually opened the back door to talk. “Who’s asking?!”

  “Motor Freaks Ninety-Nine!” came the reply, and the executives’ faces brightened. James joined his partner behind Kenny’s seat as he abandoned the increasingly-clogged road for the relative safety of the central grassy area. The truck dodged through a flock of doduo as the knuckles of his hands bent the rubbery wheel in a deathgrip. It’s going crazy again. Could we not get one day to process shit?!

  “Magnificent!” James called over the rushing wind. “We weren’t expecting you for minutes yet! Go around the side and help out the grunts!”

  Then, a moment of silence – except for the rushing wind and squawking flightless birds and a thunderbolt crashing out the back of the truck. So not silent at fuckin’ all, really. And as it went on, something tugged at his brain – and Kenny blinked, remembering one of the many things he was trying to not think about now that he was an outlaw.

  Wait a sec… Motor Freaks ‘99 run the racetrack up on Route 16. His uncle had loved the place before he’d moved away. They wear green, not purple.

  The gang’s leader must’ve been thinking as hard as he was, because the butterball failed to do anything for long seconds. Then the bandanna chick nudged his shoulder – while doin’ a-hundred-whatever, that’s kinda fuckin’ hardcore – and yelled over their collective engines.

  “Told you it was Rocket! Let’s take ‘em out!”

  Another lingering moment – though this one was mostly in Kenny’s head, the product of rushing adrenaline. The wheel turned like an Arc-damned fuckin’ giant piece of shit as he strained, his eyes catching on the glint of metal emerging from pockets, the tang of fresh blood hitting his tongue is he bit a little too hard. “Bubbles!” he screamed as the instructors tried to tackle each other out of the way and Meowth leapt from the open door. “Sand-!”

  The sound of a backfiring engine, and Jessie and James disappeared from his view as they hit the ground. The lead gangster’s upper body came apart as Meowth passed, his torso gaining thick black lines and then simply unravelling with surreal slowness as the large cat hit the pavement and circled, losing ground then regaining it as he bounded for the next target.

  A doduo used the grill as a high-speed ladder, landed on the window, and began to peck. Bubbles released himself. A mouthful of bile crept up Kenny’s throat as another Earthquake slammed into his back through the seat.

  I’m gonna die – this was dumb, this was so fuckin’ dumb. But even as he thought it, as two more gunshots rang out, one smashing through the window to paint a line of not-quite painful heat across the back of his scalp, Kenny felt a crazed smile stretch the skin of his face. Lady Mew’s tits, this is horrible and fucking cool as shit. We’re all gonna fuckin’ die.

  “Poison Gas!”

  The attack, like all the other ones Puce had ordered over the past minute, was caught and scattered by the wind before it could do more than elicit a light cough. The enemy’s- the officer’s- the enemy’s machoke blinked away the light dusting of poison before going right back to punching Mimi’s charmeleon, and her jaw tightened.

  Her other muscles must’ve tightened as well, because Potato let out a soft sigh of displeasure from where he was held under her arm. “Sorry,” she hissed, turning to her other Pokémon. “Bear, try another Confusion!”

  Bear’s mouth opened wide as her eyes began to glow, and a slight distortion in the air marked the attack’s success. Unfortunately, the fighting type did more than just let go of its target like she’d hoped; it lifted the struggling lizard up with one arm and hurled it into the buffeting winds. Puce’s eyes widened, and though some part of her brain screamed dodge she could only freeze up as the makeshift projectile flew towards her.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Lucky, the charmeleon wasn’t very heavy; she caught it against her chest without moving, and Bear’s Confusion continued to envelope the machoke as it hesitated. ‘Forward or backward?’ its posture said as its fingers curled into fists, and Puce really hoped it would choose backward.

  She might have a type advantage, but the terrain was bad; Potato would be blown away if she let go, and no amount of defensive boosts would let Bear stop the machoke from simply walking around her to disable Puce herself directly. No… in a fight like this, where there was no obligation to fight one-on-one, her team couldn’t do much other than occupy a single enemy.

  They were relying on Mimi’s firepower to actually win… Unless she wanted to try using one of her new Pokémon?

  The machoke started forward, fighting the wind, and her jaw clenched even harder. Darn. “Potato, Smoke Screen!” Again the move was stolen away, doing little more than forcing it to squint harder, and frustration bubbled in Puce’s chest. “Bear, Yawn!”

  Darn it, she cursed again. I- I can’t follow the normal strategy, not with this wind. Usually Yawn would buy enough time for Bear to become nigh-invulnerable, but that wasn’t actually useful here; the Jenny wouldn’t stop if her Pokémon was worn down, she’d just arrest them after getting it back on its feet. T-think! What do I do? The flowchart Nerine had pounded into her head clung stubbornly to her brain exactly like it was supposed to, telling her to poison the enemy and then wait it out.

  The distorted field around the machoke’s head pulsed, it winced harder, and then it was suddenly running. Oh. “Y-yawn! Yawn! Y-” I don’t think I’ve ever seen a machoke angry before. That’s kind of scary.

  Great, stomping bounds dented the thin metal under the Pokémon’s feet, and Puce braced for impact – only for the machoke to be warded away by a bright blast of yellow fire issuing from her chest. She looked down at the charmeleon, which she’d honestly forgotten about, who was hugging her torso as it spewed out a Flamethrower. The machamp dodged, stumbled as the wind caught its top-heavy body, and then fixed them with a horrible glare that made Puce break out in a cold sweat.

  I-it’s fine, I don’t need to win – just stall until Mimi deals with it. She can beat a squirtle and a drowzee, right? E-even with two of her Pokémon fighting on the road and one asleep… right?

  The world took its cue to be pointlessly cruel, and a sharp sound cut the air. “Support!” the second Jenny called out from her position atop one of the arcanine down below, her voice almost as loud as the police whistle, and her pidgeotto – pidgeot? Puce always forgot which was the more evolved one – broke off from fighting Mimi’s own arcanine and rapidash. Feathers rained down over the truck, and Puce felt her knees go weak as they brushed against her neck and shoulders.

  Worse, the same thing happened to Mimi’s fire-eevee. “Damn it!” the woman cried as her Pokémon wobbled, its poofed-out fur becoming limp. “That’s cheating!”

  “You drove through a building, you psycho!” her opponent countered, the Jenny’s squirtle spitting a seemingly endless torrent of bubbles. “Do you have any idea how many people you could’ve killed?! Recall your Pokémon!”

  “You’re gonna regret following us when the instructors-”

  BANG.

  The sound caused the chaotic fight to stutter; the charmeleon’s breath hitched, Bear finally registered the order to Yawn, the machoke’s Scary Face broke as its attention was drawn away – even the sounds of fighting from inside the truck stilled for a breathless second.

  “GUN! Weapons free!”

  The cry from below set everything in motion again, and the panic in Puce’s veins went from lukewarm to boiling. Oh no, oh no, oh-! Horror painted her face as the officer reached for her holster, Mimi’s own expression turning savage as she did the same for a Pokéball – which would be useless; her vulpix was still asleep. So Puce reached for her own- oh, wait, no, she didn’t have a free hand. If she dropped the charmeleon, the machoke would be free to attack. If she dropped Potato, the wind would take her.

  Something inside Puce’s chest gave way, and the indecision sticking her legs to the distressingly flimsy ground inverted; between blinks she was suddenly moving, and she vaulted over the sunroof just as the machoke looked back.

  It was surprised – about as much as she was, honestly. There was no thought behind her actions, just animal instinct; step forward, arm up, arm down.

  When she’d been in middle school, there’d been a brief craze about this silly kid’s toy – a sort of round bubble thing that you wore while trying to play soccer, or tag, or whatever. You were supposed to bump into each other on purpose, and get bounced around, and she’d thought it was very dumb… Until a boy she’d liked had invited her to play a game of it with his clique.

  The feeling of smashing her koffing into the machoke’s face was basically exactly the same as running full-tilt into her crush and breaking his nose; there wasn’t really an impact, just rubbery half-resistance that disappeared as the thing she’d hit was forced away. And like that stupid, stupid kid’s toy, it wasn’t the initial hit that hurt – it was the landing following the tumble.

  The machoke went off the side of the trailer, its face so flabbergasted it might’ve been funny if it were happening somewhere and sometime else.

  If it made a sound when it hit the pavement, she didn’t hear it.

  And then-

  BANG. BANG.

  At the sound of the third gunshot, Hoshi gave up trying to make it through the near-solid wall of humans and Pokémon. Fuck fuck fuck- who the fuck’s getting shot at? It wasn’t the monsters near the door – there wasn’t nearly enough panic for that. That leaves… the roof!

  “Venus, up!”

  His primeape howled and leapt without the slightest hint of hesitation, and he doubled back to follow. This is crazy. Why aren’t the instructors doing anything? It was a lot easier to move away from the fight than towards it, and so within a few seconds he’d reached his destination. A brief glance back told him that Casca was fine, and so with a burst of relief colouring his anxiety Hoshi bent his legs and flung himself up at the edge of the open sunroof-

  Only for his dumb self-inflicted wound to foul his grip, tacky half-dried blood making what would’ve been a perfect rubber handhold into a slippery mess. He fumbled, made a second grab for the edge – and found Venus’s mitt-like hand. She pulled him up as Hoshi cursed himself internally, and as his head crested the metal horizon two things immediately jumped out:

  First, that Mimi and Puce weren’t doing so great; they were both on the ground, the former cradling her leg while the latter was very nearly off the edge. Puce had an arm – a machoke’s arm, based on the colour – snaked around her shoulders, her koffing tucked under her armpit, and a charmeleon pinned between her and the ground. Mimi’d been very obviously shot.

  Second, the Jenny was also doing pretty bad; she looked to be down to a squirtle and drowzee, both burned to shit, facing off against a pissed-off little camel Pokémon and Bear the slowpoke. The former was sending out some kind of ground type shockwave that was making the entire roof shake, and the blue-haired woman was caught in the centre of it. Her ankles must be liquid. Gonna be a real bitch getting over there without falling off…

  With only the smallest of pauses to get his feet under him, Hoshi addressed the most urgent issue. “Venus, rescue Puce!” he yelled, starting to crawl forward as the trailer bucked under him like an angry horse. “Fuck-!”

  Unlike her master, Venus had no trouble standing; her evolved body, brimming with energy despite being given very little time to rest outside of stasis, trapezed across the roof to fulfill her orders. Wish I could do that. Now… what the fuck can I do?

  The policewoman had a damn gun, and the only thing keeping her from firing a fourth time was the near-impossibility of aiming straight. The camel – Numel! That’s the name – wasn’t exactly putting out much power, but it’d turned the roof into a damn trampoline. It would probably be real easy to knock her off… if he’d had a second Pokémon. As things were, Hoshi would put even odds between her shooting them before Venus was done with Puce, and one of the other officers circling like sharks doing the same from down below. Circling like sharks? The simile tugged at his brain as the drowzee waved its arms, trying to lull the angry camel to sleep.

  Circling like – oh, right.

  Hobbling up on his knees, Hoshi reached down – with his left hand, which hadn’t been shredded by dragon scales – and freed Champion’s Indigo Ball. The Jenny grit her teeth as he hauled back, one hand releasing her pistol to reach for the whistle around her neck – but another round of violent shakes caused her knees to buckle, and only a display of pure athleticism allowed her to catch herself before she went tumbling. “Smiles!” she cried instead, “Hypnosis!”

  Oh no, I refuse to get hit with that again. “Champion, Sandstorm! Attack the drowzee!”

  The strain of holding the ball as it released its payload rattled his arm-bones almost as much as the numel’s still-ongoing attack, its bounce-back function doing its level best to break all the fingers that Dabi’s machamp had missed. No way I’m actually throwing it on top of a roof – if I drop this ball it’ll just be gone. A red flash obscured the yellow-and-brown tapir, hiding its waving arms from sight just as they threatened to wipe away Hoshi’s consciousness.

  Champion cried out and charged, the squirtle sent out a Bubblebeam-

  And a pidgeot swooped down, grabbed the numel by its humped back, and flew off. Mimi let out a loud, affront-hiding-fear groan as she watched her last line of defence drop towards the road, her Pokéball’s return laser flashing out but not quite managing to connect. “Son of a-!”

  Several things happened within the next second, and Hoshi’s eyes frantically scanned to take it all in.

  The numel fell, but was saved by the sudden appearance of Crow and Ryan’s charizard; the golbat grasped Mimi’s Pokémon with her feelers and flapped frantically to counteract its weight, while the charizard dive-bombed the oversized bird who’d dropped it.

  Champion took the wave of explosive bubbles with ill grace, but still managed to come out the other side. He cried out again in triumph as sand poured from his body – only to trip and land face-first, dead asleep.

  The officer, jelly-legged but no longer under attack, aimed her pistol with a determined glint in her eye-

  And then took a Jet Ball to that same eye. The impact knocked her clean off her feet, sending her vibrant blue police cap flying away as it caught the wind – followed shortly by the rest of her. She tumbled off the back of the truck with a squawk, and Hoshi winced, anticipating the red shock of blood to be revealed as they left her behind…

  But instead, a less violent painting was revealed: the orange-black-yellow of an arcanine in reflective police gear, bounding away with its passenger back towards the distant gatehouse. The squirtle and drowzee glanced at each other nervously as the still-airborne ball disgorged its contents – a hypno – and Venus bounded into Hoshi’s line of sight.

  We… won?

  His eyes half-followed the Jet Ball back to Puce, who caught it with an absent-minded motion. “Oh no,” she said softly, the words only discernible from how often the senior grunt had heard her say them. “I think I just killed a police officer. Oh no.”

  Then a giant squid poked its head up from inside the cab, a blast of sound caused the pidgeot to drop, and the last two police Pokémon on the roof decided to take their chances and followed their trainer off the side.

  Vergil liked to think of himself as a pretty professional guy. Old school, you know? A real legitimate businessman.

  Motor Freaks ‘99 might’ve belonged to the Pokémon Fan Club Chairman on paper, but it was still his thing, you know? He was the guy who actually ran the place, the one who made sure the rides were tuned up, who interviewed new employees, who made sure the bets were paid or collected, who shut the lights off in the secret basement. The guy on the ground.

  So when the giant semi truck pulled in, beat to shit and melted in places despite the escort he’d sent out, it was him who got everything in-line. “Big delivery’s here!” he called. “Right on time! Everybody, get to it!”

  And they did. Get to it, that is. People were peeled out of the freighter, were fed and watered, and the vehicle itself driven into the garage where his guys were waiting to take it apart. MF99 was an actual racetrack, after all; nobody wanted the blues to find a stolen vehicle on the property.

  Better for it to disappear.

  Speaking of disappearing… “You doin’ alright there, Mister Kidd?”

  The blue-haired executive didn’t look all right, but you had to give people the opportunity to lie when they needed to, you know? “Hmmm,” James groaned as the doctor – or rather the ex-veterinarian, not that the difference was particularly material when it was just stitching somebody up – stitched him up. “I’m sure I’ll be on my feet in no time.”

  “You absolutely will not!” Jessie reprimanded from where she sat. “You’ve been shot. You’re going to stay right here and convalesce with Meowth while I take the grunts east. You can catch up when we make it to Saffron.”

  James smiled. “Jessie-”

  “Oh no you don’t!” she interrupted. “I’m not going to be cajoled here! I know you can walk. I know we don’t need to slow down. But…” Jessie’s lips curled. “We’ve been burning the midnight oil a little too hot, haven’t we?”

  “Jessie-”

  “We really should’ve spotted the trap before it was sprung – I mean really, it was obvious they weren’t our subordinates! They were in an entirely different uniform!”

  Vergil held back a sour look as the word subordinates hit his ear. His gang wasn’t under Rocket, they just happened to pay him to send people their way, and keep the basement free for their smuggling operations. But he wasn’t gonna say that to their faces, so he kept his mouth shut.

  James, meanwhile, had his own gradually souring look – probably from all the interruptions. “Jessie-”

  “Holding back for the Ranger was such a silly idea, Enforcer Moon took care of them all on his own. Don’t worry, I can handle getting the Junior Executives in line just fine by-”

  “Jessie!” His raised voice had a firmness that made even Doc Isaiah’s spine straighten. “I understand,” James continued in his normal tone. “I’ll stay here. But Meowth has to go with you once he’s healed; if they find the hideout I’ll be cooked with or without him.”

  Jessie opened her mouth, but relented under the weight of his reassuring smile. “Fine,” she muttered. “But I’d better see you in Saffron!”

  “And you’re sure you’re fine?”

  Casca rolled her eyes, and the casualness inherent to the gesture did as much to calm his heart as the words of her reply did. “Hoshi, I’m so fine. It’s just a little burn – the bruises you got crawling all over the roof are probably worse.”

  He huffed, accepting the deflection. “Fine.” For a moment the two of them just stood and looked out the window of the racetrack’s office, letting the comfortable silence linger. Through the glass Hoshi watched Kenny and Bart argue with a Motor Freak mechanic, though what they had to be angry about, he had no idea. His eyes drifted further, to the boat they’d be taking for the last stretch between Route 16 and Vermilion. Wonder why we aren’t going through Celadon. Seems kind of roundabout.

  Not that he was complaining; not needing to go through the Cycling Road’s other guardhouse sounded just fine to him. Crazy shit. I’m almost thinking about running again. Seriously, that was some dumb Pokéstar blockbuster type shit. The thought prompted a wan smile. And yet… I kind of feel good about it? Seems shitty to consider after Mimi and James got shot, but I think we all needed a less ambiguous win. Of the two battles he’d had in the past twenty-four hours, this one definitely came with less baggage. Feels like a confirmation. Like, ‘we’ve got a chance to do this thing.’

  It was completely dumb; in reality they’d only chased off a few cops… But still, the feeling lingered.

  Hoshi pushed away from the window, drawing an interrogative sound from his girlfriend. “Gonna talk to a few of the guys hanging around,” he answered the unasked question. “See if I can get a few people to help me break in Rivet and Moony.”

  “Rivet and..?” Casca’s brows raised – and she put on a soft smile of her own. “Hoshi, that’s terrible. I love it.”

  They shared a semi-private laugh, and the black sea drowning his heart receded just a little – not enough to change anything, but enough to know that one day, maybe, it would dry up and leave nothing more than a crust of lingering grief.

  Make sure everyone’s tame, check moves, maybe get a low-stakes battle or two…

  Then get back home. Should be there by this time tomorrow.

  Sufficient Velocity or .)