One Way to Derail a Conversation

Sunset cast a rolling sea of smoke and smog in hellish oranges and yellows. Denton smiled, as he felt oddly at home.

Errol disrupted the reverie, “Mind the cargo ship at 10:30. Looks like he aims to cut across.”

The ship looked more like a hulking beast to Denton, heaving itself through the sky and belching out dark, ominous puffs. Denton narrowed his eyes as calculation met instinct upon the climbs of experience.

“Errol, you wearing your minah?”

“Of course, good point. Handy as it is, with the infusion of my designs it could…” In quick succession Errol’s latest oration was interrupted by Denton whooshing by, the clack of the side port opening, and a large hand jerking him backwards through the opening. In the ensuing aerial tumbles Errol heard himself swear then a roar of flame and explosion above him. He righted his position in time to see the cargo ship and their own patrol coaster entangled and aflame.

The perpetual fog of Grind City rushed up to meet him while debris chased from above.

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