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I roll down the window, the wind whipping through the car. The cliffside looms on our left, jagged and unforgiving. I aim the Bargleblaster, the barrel steady despite the car’s jolting movements. The weapon hums as I pull the trigger, a beam of energy slicing through the rock. The cliffside groans, then collapses in a cascade of boulders and dust.

The first SUV swerves, narrowly avoiding the rockslide. The second isn’t so lucky. A massive boulder slams into its hood, sending it spinning off the road and tumbling down the steep incline into the valley below. The explosion echoes in the distance, a fiery punctuation to their demise.

“One of them is still on us,” Gordo says, his voice tight. “Use it again!”

I shake my head, my eyes scanning the terrain ahead. “I’m fresh out of cliffside. We’re on level ground now.” I glance at him, my expression grim. “Besides, we’re moving into a populated area. I can’t use alien weaponry around humans.”

Another plasma blast sizzles past the car, close enough to make the air crackle. I jerk the wheel, the tires screeching as we swerve to avoid it. The Grolgath aren’t playing around.

“You want to tell the Ataxians that?” Gordo asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He gestures wildly at the rearview mirror, where the remaining SUV is closing in fast. “Because they don’t seem to care about your rules.”

I grit my teeth, my mind racing. The city lights are just ahead, a glittering sprawl of humanity. I can’t risk exposing myself—or them—to the Grolgath’s wrath. But if I don’t do something soon, we’re both dead.

“Hold on,” I say, my voice low. “I’ve got an idea.”

I wrench the wheel hard, yanking up the handbrake. The world spins, tires screaming against asphalt. My stomachlurches as we whip around, the g-forces pressing me back into my seat. The car completes its 180, and now we're staring down the approaching SUV, their headlights blazing like demon eyes.

My foot slams the gas pedal. The engine roars, tires finding purchase. We rocket forward, straight at the oncoming vehicle.

"What are you doing?" Gordo's voice cracks with terror.

"I'm playing Pheasant."

"Playing Chicken, you mean." His claws dig deeper into the seat. "And that's suicide! They're bigger than we are!"

A fierce grin splits my face, my golden eyes reflecting the approaching headlights. "So they are."

"The odds of them turning before we do are slim to none."

I grab the shifter, ramming it into top gear. The engine screams as we hurtle toward certain death. "Never tell me the odds."

I hit the button to release Gordo’s seat belt, the click barely audible over the roar of the engine. The SUV’s headlights are blinding now, filling the car with a harsh, white glare.

“I’m going to miss this car,” I say wistfully, my fingers tightening on the wheel. The leather feels warm under my palms, the scent of polished wood and expensive upholstery filling my nostrils. It’s a shame, really. This car was a masterpiece.

“What are you doing?” Gordo sputters, his voice rising an octave. “Why did you take off my?—”

The impact cuts him off. Metal screams, glass shatters, and the world becomes a blur of violence. The force of the collision slams me into the steering wheel, but my scales absorb the worst of it. Gordo, however, isn’t so lucky—or maybe he is, depending on how you look at it.

He flies through the windshield like a furry cannonball, his human disguise flickering as he crashes into the front seat of the SUV. The Grolgath driver stares at him, stunned, his reptilianfrills twitching in confusion. Gordo doesn’t waste any time. He leans over and vomits all over the guy, the acidic stench of his explosive bile filling the air.

I tear myself free from the wreckage, my claws ripping through the twisted metal like it’s paper. The car groans as I push the door open, the hinges protesting with a metallic screech. I grab Gordo by the scruff of his neck and yank him out of the SUV, his fur matted with bile and glass.

“Move!” I bark, dragging him toward the ditch. The heat from the wreck is intense, the flames licking at the edges of my vision. We dive into the ditch just as both cars explode, the fireball lighting up the night sky. The shockwave hits us like a freight train, the force pressing us into the dirt. The heat is unbearable, the air thick with the acrid smell of burning fuel and melted metal.

Gordo rolls onto his back, coughing and sputtering. His fur is singed, and his human disguise is completely gone, revealing his natural Fratvoyan form. He glares at me, his beady eyes narrowing.

“This fucking job better come with a corner office and a nymphomaniac secretary!” he growls, his voice hoarse.

I smirk, brushing dirt off my suit. “You’ll get a desk and a coffee machine. Be grateful.”

He sits up, shaking glass out of his fur. “A coffee machine? That’s it? I just got launched through a windshield, puked on a Grolgath, and nearly got incinerated, and all I get is a damn coffee machine?”

I shrug, my golden eyes glinting in the firelight. “You’re alive, aren’t you? That’s more than I can say for them.” I jerk my head toward the burning wreckage, the flames casting long shadows across the road.

Gordo mutters something under his breath, something that sounds suspiciously like a curse in his native tongue. He stands,brushing himself off, and glares at me again. “Next time, you’re the one flying through the windshield.”

I grin, my sharp teeth gleaming. “Deal.”