Flea wheezed under the tire. His goggles hung off his face, spinning fast. Spant clicked a switch on the dashboard. The front wheel of the motorcycle spun quickly as he held it in place.
Flea screamed. His eyes were wild with fear, and sweat ran down his face. He realized this was no longer a game.
A police officer raised his gun and aimed at Spant. “Don’t move that bike! Keep your hands off the throttle!”
Another officer yelled, “Police! Kill the engine! Kill the engine now!”
A third officer, weapon drawn, shouted, “Dismount slowly! Get on the ground!”
“You on the hood! Don’t move! Keep your hands up!” another shouted.
Spant knew the officers were trying to create a ‘wall of sound’ to confuse him with their commands. He flicked a tooth with his tongue. He looked at all of the guns drawn on him. Flea’s spell had been broken when he was no longer concentrating on his victims.
“Spant,” Link’s voice came through the comms.
Spant noticed a crawler hovering above the chaos, pointed at him.
He eased the motorcycle wheel off Flea’s chest. Flea inhaled deeply as his fingers trembled.
The lead officer shouted, “Put in the kickstand!” He walked slowly toward them. “Hands in the air!”
“Show your hands,” someone barked. “All of you, hands up!”
Spant raised his right hand as if he were surrendering himself. An officer approached him slowly. Flea raised his neck.
Spant glanced down at him.
Smiled.
Flea couldn’t blink. “What’s… what’s so funny?” his voice trembled.
Spant stared at him silently.
Flea’s body quivered.
Six SWAT officers advanced, weapons raised, while patrol cops fanned out behind them.
The officers were closing the line.
Spant moved.
He drove his motorcycle around the parked car and snatched Flea by his collar. Ignoring the officers, he cranked the throttle, dragging Flea’s limp body against the pavement.
Flea screamed in pain. The officers gave chase on foot.
As the motorcycle skidded to a circular stop four blocks away, Spant let go of Flea, and he crashed into the wall of a building with a bone-shattering thud.
***
Spant kicked out his kickstand. He stalked toward Flea. The stinger in his right hand popped out and retracted in quick succession.
Flea groaned as he rolled onto his back. He rubbed his eyes, and the blur of darkness faded into light. Through the haze of confusion, he saw something walking toward him. A few more wipes, and he realized what was headed toward him and why he was there.
“Spant.”
Flea rose to his feet. He nearly fell over when he put pressure on his left leg.
Spant tilted his head and glanced at his ankle.
“Looks broken.”
The heavy footsteps of the police officers caught Spant’s attention. He looked their way but did not stop walking.
“Link,” he said into the comms.
“On it,” Link said.
He heard Link’s finger tap on the keyboard. The motorcycle projected a shimmering force field across the street.
The officers released a hail of gunfire onto the barrier and dove to the ground as the bullets bounced off the wall and back at them. Two officers yelled out that they were hit as they hit the ground. Bullets ricocheted off patrol cars. Everyone dove for cover as rounds whizzed past.
Spant lifted Flea by the neck. His feet dangled above the ground. “You wanted to see me.” He pressed Flea’s back against the brick wall.
The heel of Flea’s shoe scraped against the wall. “It wasn’t supposed to go… go down like this.”
“I just wanted them to know how it felt to be the victim.”
Spant pulled him closer to his face. “Stop whining, Felix.”
Flea’s body shook.
Flea’s head bounced as Spant bumped it against the brick wall. His goggles fell off his head. He flailed his arms in the air.
“I don’t have time for your theatrics. Talk,” Spant barked, slapping his hand away.
The crawler hovered low enough for Flea to hear Link’s voice over the speaker.
“If you know what is good for you, you will tell him what he wants to know. Now.”
Flea grabbed his head. “This… was nothing personal. J… just a job. I was hired to—”
Spant leaned in and stared him in the eyes.
“Go on,” Link’s voice said.
Spant raised a fist to his face. A stinger popped. “Talk or I start cutting.”
Flea’s eyes never left the stinger. Suddenly he had diarrhea of the mouth. “I was paid to bring you out of hiding. He told me to cause a commotion big enough to bring Spant out.”
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The police shouted through the barrier. They demanded he free Flea and surrender himself. Another patrol car screeched onto the scene. It stopped in front of the barrier.
Officer Bella Sparks stepped out from the driver’s side. She was alone.
“Spant.”
He turned his focus to her. “You’re late, Bella.”
She leaned against the hood of her car. “You mean early. This was my day off until the sergeant decided it wasn’t.” She walked to the barrier, gave it a knock, and smiled. “Nice.”
“O… officer, you have to help me. Ack,” Flea choked out a plea.
“He’s turning blue, Spant,” she said. “Let him go. He’s not worth it. Don’t force me to arrest you.”
Spant looked at her.
Spant tightened his grip.
“It was a job!” Flea yelled. “I only took the boy to make you come out. He told me to keep you busy whil—”
Flea stopped mid-sentence.
There was a click—even Spant heard it.
Flea didn’t move or speak.
Something’s not right, he thought. “Scan his brain.”
A beam scanned Flea.
Link confirmed what Spant already suspected. “There’s… something there. Hold on… zooming… It moved. Oh my God. It’s alive. A small organism. Insect-like. It’s latched onto his brainstem.”
Spant dropped Flea’s catatonic body. His leg pancaked under him with a sharp snap.
“This was a distraction. Whoever hired him wanted me out of the way,” Spant said.
“Who and why would someone—or something—want you distracted?” Bella whispered.
That’s when it hit him. The phone call. The brain control. The mass hysteria. Connected.
“He’s a puppet,” he murmured.
Swarn.
LJ.
Spant threw a leg across his motorcycle. “I’m sending you an address. Head there now, Link.”
“He’s yours, officer,” Spant said. He revved his engine. The barrier went down long after he was gone.
Bella blew a strand of hair out of her face. “Thanks,” she said sarcastically.
***
While Spant raced across the city fighting traffic to reach LJ, she was in a life-or-death battle as Nyx.
In the dim light of her studio apartment, Nyx clung to the exposed brick wall, her clothes torn in several places. She coiled her body as she perched high above Swarn’s brood. One hand gripped the jagged edge of the masonry as she peered down at them, her eyes tracking their every move.
One of the swarnlings climbed onto her new couch. The largest jittered toward it, making a distinct chitin sound. It flapped its wings and leapt off the couch at her.
She hissed and launched herself from the wall at it. The claws in the gloves extended with a metallic snikt sound.
Link’s crawler flew through the city, dodging pigeons and other drones. LJ’s apartment building was just a few blocks away.
“I’m less than thirty seconds out, Spant.”
“This traffic has me five minutes out,” Spant said. “When you get there, don’t let her fight alone.”
“You really think Swarn used Flea as a distraction so that he could go after her?”
“If I were a betting man, I’d stake my life on it.”
When Lila Jean’s floor came into view, Link hovered the crawler in front of an open window.
The crawler relayed the image: broken glass, movement on the floor…
Then he saw Nyx, back against a wall, chair in her hand. She was surrounded by swarnlings. Her claws dripped with green goo, and one of the things lay on its back, legs in the air, twitching.
“She’s in trouble,” Link said. “I’ll buy her some time until you get here.”
Spant looked ahead at the traffic blocking him. He twisted the grip. The engine screamed.
A car ahead of him stopped suddenly.
“I don’t have time for this,” he growled.
He used the bumper of the stopped car as a ramp. He drove the motorcycle over the tops of cars and trucks in his way, bouncing from hoods to trunks. Some drivers waved their fists and cursed at him as he passed.
***
While Spant raced across the city fighting traffic to reach LJ, she was in a life-or-death battle as Nyx.
In the dim light of her studio apartment, Nyx clung to the exposed brick wall, her clothes torn in several places. She coiled her body as she perched high above Swarn’s brood. One hand gripped the jagged edge of the masonry as she peered down at them, her eyes tracking their every move.
One of the swarnlings climbed onto her new couch. The largest jittered toward it, making a distinct chitin sound. It flapped its wings and leapt off the couch at her.
She hissed and launched herself from the wall at it. The claws in the gloves extended with a metallic snikt sound.
Link’s crawler flew through the city, dodging pigeons and other drones. LJ’s apartment building was just a few blocks away.
“I’m less than thirty seconds out, Spant.”
“This traffic has me five minutes out,” Spant said. “When you get there, don’t let her fight alone.”
“You really think Swarn used Flea as a distraction so that he could go after her?”
“If I were a betting man, I’d stake my life on it.”
When Lila Jean’s floor came into view, Link hovered the crawler in front of an open window.
The crawler relayed the image: broken glass, movement on the floor…
Then he saw Nyx, back against a wall, chair in her hand. She was surrounded by swarnlings. Her claws dripped with green goo, and one of the things lay on its back, legs in the air, twitching.
“She’s in trouble,” Link said. “I’ll buy her some time until you get here.”
Spant looked ahead at the traffic blocking him. He twisted the grip. The engine screamed.
A car ahead of him stopped suddenly.
“I don’t have time for this,” he growled.
He used the bumper of the stopped car as a ramp and drove the motorcycle over the tops of cars and trucks in his way, bouncing from hoods to trunks. Some drivers waved their fists and cursed at him as he passed.
***
Nyx looked on in horror as the swarnling’s jaws clamped around her forearm like a steel trap. Teeth pierced skin. Pain flared up her arm.
Ah’m gonna need more than a tetanus shot…
She didn’t fight the pull. She leaned into it. Twisted with its momentum.
Her shoulder screamed as her elbow drove upward toward the shadow beneath its mandible.
“Filthy swamp vermin!”
She drove herself upward, her right leg snapping straight as the air whistled past her ears. Her boot lashed out in a high arc, connecting with a soft thud against its chest.
She looked over her shoulder just in time to see another swarnling reaching for her from behind.
Nyx didn’t hesitate.
She spun.
Her fist was a blur of black leather as she drove it into the second swarnling’s midsection. Her foot slipped on something wet, but she braced herself before she could fall.
Nyx was angry, and she wasn’t about to let up.
She seized the next swarnling by its shoulder. Her claws bit into its exoskeleton as she yanked it forward. The momentum of her pull was met with a vicious upward snap of her knee.
“Ah’m not done. Not by a longshot.”
She yanked its slumping body before it hit the floor. Her arms shook as she raised it above her head. With a force she didn’t know she had, she tossed it at the other swarnlings.
“Ah hate bugs.”
The swarnling tumbled in the air, narrowly missing Link’s crawler that had just flown in through a broken window.
“Hey,” he yelled. “I’m on your side,” he said as his voice echoed through the room.
“Then stop talkin’,” she said, ripping her hand through another swarnling. “Do you have any bug spray in that thing?”
She wrinkled her nose, flicking green goo and guts from her hand.
“Or air freshener?”
A creature jittered behind Nyx. It clicked twice and was about to leap onto her when the crawler shot a frost beam at it.
The swarnling froze midair.
She turned in time to see it shatter into ice chunks as it dropped to the floor.
“Thanks, sugah.”
Link had moved on to freezing another swarnling when a shadow moved behind Nyx.
She didn’t see it until it clicked its wings in flight.
She turned just enough to see the thing glide past her shoulder with its mouth wide open.
“Look out!” she shouted.
It crashed into Link’s crawler, and the two slammed into her new sofa.
The machine popped and snapped under the impact.
Sparks jumped where its teeth bit into the casing.
The smell of burning electronics filled the air.
Then the crawler ignited.
Flames raced across the creature’s body as it convulsed and shrieked.
“Why can’t ah have anything nice?”
As Spant ran across the rooftop of the building, Link’s voice came over his earpiece.
“The crawler’s down. She’s outnumbered, and her apartment is likely on fire now.”
“What?”
“Launching another crawler now.”
“Don’t,” Spant said, leaping over an HVAC unit. “I’m almost there.”
He grunted as he landed on the other side of the machine.
He removed a grappling hook from his utility belt and clipped it to a rooftop anchor with a metallic snap.
“Alert the fire department of the fire,” he said as he grabbed the line.
Spant dashed toward the rooftop’s edge, kicking up debris. Smoke curled up past the building’s edge as he ran.
Damn it, LJ. Why are you so stubborn?
Hold on. I’m coming.