The Drive for Freedom

Acrylic righted himself up, fumbling as Fetus’ limp body flopped down across the back seats. Hard Drive turned his head to face them, neon lights glinting irregularly off his bald dome. “You okay back there?” he rasped.

“Who are you?!” Acrylic demanded. “Just what kind of freak show is this?!”

I jumped down off the railing and made a perfect landing into the front passenger’s seat. Already I saw another drone hovering down to our level after we had pulsed the first wave out. “Lose ’em, Hard Drive,” I ordered, grabbing one of the weapons from inside my coat. I fired it—or tried to, anyway. Unresponsive.

The convertible top extended. “How can you be sure we aren’t getting tracked?” I wondered.

Hard Drive beamed and pressed a button on the dashboard.

With a loud protest, the dull exterior shell exploded off the car to expose a flashy, shiny vehicle. Hard Drive took a hard right, cutting us across an empty, grassy lot. We merged, and just like that, we had vanished, lost in the main traffic grid.

View this story's 2 comments.