Lightrunner

(9) Crescent Chase

I make it two blocks before three white zoomers are on my tail, snaking in and out of traffic to catch up to me. The sleek metal bodies of all the vehicles reflect against the neon lights, turning the busy street into a sea of shimmering stars, an easy distraction to the wandering eye. But I must remain focused. I honk the horn on the steering wheel, blaring a warning signal for drivers to move out of the way. Lights, buildings, and giant mediascreens blur past slowly even though I'm blazing down the street.

My arms are heavy and slightly delayed when I swerve left and right around zoomers in my path. I'm lucky that the null of Nether doesn't drag me down too far, and instead slows the world down just enough for me to use it to my advantage. I angle the wheel to the left just in time, dodging between two wide freight zoomers with the infinite symbol of the tech-human Court plastered on the sides of the long trailers. I earn a honk from the freight driver as I cut him off, but my maneuver has put a barrier between the me and the Horns...for now.

I take a deep breath, releasing some of the pressure I'd put on my spine and shoulders from sitting so rigidly straight, and let myself sink into the padded seat. The rumble of the zoomer's engine riles a wave of nostalgia within me, reminding me of my drives as a lightrunner and a life I won't get back. I don't want it back, but regret still lingers like a bad taste in my mouth. Even though my membership to the House of Horns was a forced one, it had quickly become a comfort I used to combat the emptiness inside of me—an emptiness that will soon return once I evade the lorkins chasing me.

I furiously wipe away a tear threatening to spill over my cheek and try to clear my head as I press my foot farther into the pedal, pushing the zoomer over the speed limit invoked by the Court. I spare a glance in my rearview mirror and spy the first white zoomer as it charges onto the streetwalk, driving around the two freights to get to me. People scatter frantically out of the way, barely avoiding impact, hugging the store fronts as the other two white zoomers follow quickly behind. Traffic starts to cluster in front of me, making it nearly impossible to zig-zag through without slamming into civilian zoomers surrounding me.

Dread sweeps through me. I'm not going to make it. They'll close in on me, trapping me in traffic, binding me to this fate.

A lit sign posted above the street blinks at me, the words and the pointing arrow catching my attention.

CRESCENT CROSS—TURN RIGHT.

The bridged skyway that arches high above the streets, cutting straight between the towering buildings, connects the opposite ends of the city. Because it is typically less congested, I often used the bridge when I made weapon runs between the Amethyst, Emerald, and Ivory Districts. Never the Cobalt District.

Then it hits me. Of course. The Cobalt District.

I jerk the wheel to the right, pushing the zoomer into overdrive as I speed up the ramp to Crescent Cross. I'm going to deliver the lorkins to the one thing they want more than me—Macon Falcove.