Act 2
Chapter 15
"Induction"
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TJ awoke to a beam of light cracking through the window of his glorified broom closet. The sudden ray caused him to squint and moan as he stood up, shielding his eyes with a single hand. For a few seconds, he thought it was just another day. But reality came flooding back to him. He was not going home. He was trapped here. And now he was being forced to make himself public enemy number one.
He walked over to the window, looking out over the military base that he had quickly grown tired of being cooped up in. Some excitement could be fun, and it had been over a week since he was the chased instead of the chaser. His future actions began to gnaw at his mind, however. Sure, running from the cops in the past was always fun. But this time felt different. It felt… wrong.
TJ shook his head, getting the thoughts out his mind by shoving new ones in. He had to do this. If he did not, then he would never go home. Maybe if he does a good enough job, then these mob guys or whoever would get off his back and let him live his life. Just another debt to pay.
Making sure the Viper's keys were in his pocket, TJ began walking at a brisk pace. At this time of day, the teams were either asleep or making breakfast. This was the perfect window to leave without anyone noticing. Thankfully, he fell asleep fully dressed, so he did not have to waste precious seconds throwing on some clothes. His footsteps were fast and curt, rounding his way to the elevator on the floor. Passing by everyone's room, he was able to map out who was still cooped up and who was roaming the Great Fox based on closed or open doors. His short walk told him that Slippy, Falco, and Leon were all still in their rooms. It left many variables, but it did not seem like there would be anyone in his way.
Stepping into the lift, TJ quickly shut the door and pressed the button to descend to the hangar. The short ride did not give TJ much time to think. He kept replaying the same thoughts over and over and over and over-
The door opened, knocking TJ out of his trance. Quickly regaining his composure, the young driver shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and made a beeline toward his waiting chariot. He could see the red beast, practically snarling and stamping its hooves as it waited for its rider. The thoughts distracted him, causing the sudden appearance of the team engineer to make him tense up.
Slippy was dressed in a dirty white tank top, brown cargo pants, and his usual flight boots. The red hat he always wore was turned backward on his head, increasing his cone of vision. "Good morning, TJ," he announced, his beaming smile causing him to miss the street racer's blood freezing up.
"Oh, uh, 'sup, Slip? I uh, thought you were still sleepin'?"
Slippy chuckled, rubbing the back of his green neck with some sort of multi-tool he held. "Yeah, I kinda sprung out of bed to do some work on my Arwing that I forgot about. It was all a bit exciting from what happened yesterday, haha…" His voice faded out slightly as his expression softened. "Hey, uh, are you okay, by the way?"
"What?"
"Well, you know, given the whole chase, getting shot at, fighting, etcetera. It's just a lot for someone to go through. I remember my first firefight, took me quite a while to calm down from it."
TJ paused for a second, before shaking his head. "I'm fine man. I was just gonna go for a quick drive. Clear my head and all that."
"Oh, well I was going to see if you wanted some breakfast first? Fox is a great cook!"
"Nah, I'm good," TJ dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I'll pick some up while I'm out. Uh, thanks though."
"No worries! Just, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here!"
"Yeah, thanks."
TJ breathed a sigh of relief as he continued his brisk walk, right up to the waiting door of his Viper. He did not dare to even let a machine warm up, for as soon as he turned the key and let the engine snarl to life, he was already driving down the ramp. As soon as the tires hit tarmac, he quickly drove off the base and headed south on Corneria's freeway system. All he had to keep him company was the endless curves of the roads that cut through the numerous mountains on both sides.
As he continued his drive, his PDA suddenly buzzed. Not wanting to drive while distracted, TJ flicked the hazard lights on and pulled to the side of the road. On the lock screen of the PDA was a text notification from an unknown number.
1500 Seashell Way, your equipment is waiting for you. Good luck, Racer Boy ;)
TJ rolled his eyes at the emoji before putting his PDA back in his pocket and taking off, burning rubber as picked up the pace.
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On the twilight of summer and dawn of autumn, Aquilia Wharf couldn't be a better place to visit. Warm sun, crowds of happy pedestrians, and five-star restaurant quality food from something as meager as a food cart on the side of the road. The wharf in which the district was named after was an international trading hub along Corneria's many world-wide waterways, with untold billions in credits moving through the docks every month. As such, the wealth was built up around the bay, and while the dock work itself was quite dirty, the surrounding town that had built up around it was the exact opposite.
As TJ drove down the streets, he took note of this fact. Expensive restaurants, bars, and clothing stores dotted the sides of every street he drove down to his destination. There was a constant downhill pull of gravity that all seemed to end up at the main wharf, something he picked up on thanks to the constant ups and downs on the roads. He mentally began to map out the various alleyways and side streets that filled the town, roads he was certain he had to use. If these fixers knew what they were doing, he would hopefully be provided with a car that was capable of handling these roads.
After a few more minutes of cruising, TJ realized that he was now in a warehouse district. The identical industrial buildings provided a pang of nostalgia for the life he left. A life he was yearning to return to. No animal people, no sci-fi gadgets, no blackmail.
The warehouse swam by his vehicle, their only identifying features being company logos on simple wooden posts outside of them. Finally, he pulled up to the right warehouse. 1500 Seashell Way. He could not see which company used to own the building, but it did not matter. The gate was wide open, and recent tire tracks indicated that his new vehicle was inside the building.
TJ pulled his machine into the warehouse, quieting the Viper from a hungry howl to a muted burble as he put it in park. It seemed abandoned for years, as dust danced in the stale air. Broken lights, boarded-up windows, and plywood scattered about. It reminded him of home. The squeak of the door reverberated throughout the warehouse as he pushed it open and breathed in the musty seaside air. There was a faint scent of fish mixed with plywood and moss lingering as he slammed the door to the Viper shut and began to look around for the gift. It did not take long for him to find it.
In the center of the warehouse was a car hidden under a white sheet. This had to be the new ride. TJ wasted no time parking the Viper up before walking up to the mystery vehicle. Grabbing one end of the cloth, he yanked it off with a jerky flick of his wrists. In moments, his was assaulted by a cloud of dust descending onto him. He hacked, gagged, and covered his eyes as the particles blanketed him, eventually swatting them away to reveal his new weapon for the day.
It was an interesting ride to say the least. The dark blue metallic paint job clashed with the brass-coated six-spoke rims it sat on. A mesh grille smiled at the front, which was lowered to the ground as the chassis was raised slightly at the rear for a prominent rear diffuser to jut out slightly. A single large roof scoop sat atop the swooping body of the sports car, allowing TJ to visually connect the accessory directly to the mid-engine set up it possessed. It was a relatively small car, at least compared to the Viper and Skyline he was used to driving at this point. It slightly resembled Kylie's Elise, the thought casting a melancholic air for a split second before he quickly dispelled the thoughts.
Opening the door, TJ was pleasantly surprised to find that it opened in the scissor style. For such a small and nimble-looking sports car, it sure knew how to be flashy. Before sitting down, he noticed a black full-face motorcycle helmet sitting in the driver's seat. Picking it up, TJ looked over the rounded helmet with a raised brow. He focused on the canine ears protruding from the top, something he scoffed at before putting the headgear on. He instantly began to sneeze as strands of dog hair suddenly fluttered onto his face. Once he was done having his impromptu sneezing session, he quickly fell into the blue sports car and shut the door.
The world fell silent, allowing TJ to get his bearings. His hands gently caressed the steering wheel, getting a feel for the weight of it. In the footwell, he shuffled his feet along each pedal, pressing down to feel the resistance and gauge the right amounts of pressure he would need to apply. To his slight disappointment, his left foot did not find the magical third pedal, but his fingers were able to discover a set of flappy paddles hidden behind the steering wheel. As he clicked the seat belt over his torso, he felt his connection with the car began to gestate. He slowly became one with the machine before it made a single sound. He mentally mapped out the length, width, and height of the car. The wheelbase, the weight, and the downforce all entered his mind. It was as if this sports car was an extension of his body, and he was the brain. There was only one thing to do now.
Placing his foot on the brake and pressing the start button, TJ heard and felt the engine whine to life behind him. It was an exhilarating sound, a smile creeping across his face as he kept the car in neutral to give it a few more revs. Through the orgasmic roar of the engine, he could tell that the noise was not just for show. The roar turned into a series of wails, followed by pops and burbles as it returned to an idle.
Now that the car was active, TJ noticed the infotainment display light up. It had clearly been modified, as a police scanner frequency popped up on the small screen. It was already active, and the line was quiet. For now, at least. Staring at the exit of the warehouse, TJ took a deep breath. He could do it. He had done it a hundred times before. But he was rarely alone. His fingers choked the steering wheel tighter as nerves became a reality.
"Can't screw this up," he mumbled, taking a shaky breath as he noticed the time. 12:50. In ten minutes, every cop in the town would be on his tail, doing everything they could to lock him up. He could not stall any longer. It was now or never.
(Song: TXR 3 OST - Vampire Killer)
Letting instinct take over, TJ floored it. The squeal of tires rippled through the air as smoke from the shredded rubber compound puffed up behind him. TJ wished that he had been able to study the layout of the streets beforehand as he left the warehouse district in the dust, but it was a problem he would deal with later. For now, he had to draw attention, and lots of it.
The small commercial street he was currently driving on was a two-lane road, with the opposite direction separated only by red painted lines. Not even taking a second to think, TJ hopped over to face down oncoming traffic. The chaos was instant, causing him to swerve and slide while cars barreled down on him. Some hit the brakes and prayed he would not hit them, while others swerved to get out of his way. The sounds of squealing tires and crunching metal from accidents caused by the street racer echoed as he continued his wrong-way cruise.
As soon as he reached a small roundabout, TJ was slightly distracted by the blood-freezing sound of a police scanner chirping to life as he narrowly avoided a van coming toward him.
"Attention all units in the Aquilia Wharf district, we are receiving reports of a dark blue Orion Celeste GT driving into oncoming traffic. Plate description matches a stolen Celeste from a few days ago, can a couple units clear and head up that way?"
Affirmative responses followed, which meant that TJ could hop out of the oncoming lane for now. He weaved through traffic on the correct side of the road before arriving at a red light at an upcoming intersection. Slamming on the brakes, he came to a stop just before the intersection, as drivers and pedestrians alike began to give him stares. The light gave him time to look over a small map of the local area on the infotainment screen. It was a decently packed town, filled with sharp corners, hills, and tight alleys. His benefactors had certainly given him the right car for the job. While the environment would be fun, he knew it gave the cops plenty of opportunities to shut him down.
Speaking of law enforcement, TJ noticed a cop car pull up to the light across the street. It was a medium-sized sedan, painted white and blue on the body while police-themed vinyls decorated the side of it. The scanner confirmed his opponent as another beep filled the air. "Uh, this is unit two-twelve here. I've got that stolen Celeste OZ across the street from me at the intersection of Main and Bauxite. I've got a feeling he's about to take off, gonna need backup going code three."
Judging by the amount of replies and sirens in the distance, more officers were due to arrive in a few seconds. The chase had now begun. The thought split a smile in TJ's lips just as the light turned green.
TJ slammed his foot on the gas, taking off past the cop as he flicked his lights and sirens on. There was little time left to think as he accelerated, dancing between traffic like someone lit his seat on fire. He slid through the congestion like his car was greased up on all sides, finding the smallest possible hole and ducking through without a single scratch. Even with more units joining it at every intersection, they could barely keep pace, let alone catch him.
Despite the forced professionalism over the air, he could tell he had shocked the cops attempting to stay on his tail with his movements. "This guy is gonna kill someone. We can't keep up, Central. Requesting Interceptor units to interdict the suspect."
"Request received, Two-twelve. What is the suspect's heading?"
"Southwest down Bauxite at over one-sixty kilos."
"Rodger, Two-twelve. Interceptors have been dispatched, attempt to keep suspect in line of sight before they get there."
To give the cops some help, TJ hit the brakes, allowing multiple cruisers to catch up to him. He did not allow them to get any closer than that however, as he quickly put some more distance between the chasers as soon as they were too close for comfort. He made sure that the cops were just barely able to keep up, lifting his foot off the accelerator to rope them along. It was clearly frustrating the units, and a slight chuckle came from TJ when the cops realized that he was toying with them.
TJ took as many predictive turns as possible, making sure that the cops were able to remain on his tail. There was a nostalgic allure to the challenge as he baited the cops along a series of winding switchbacks built along the mountains that surrounded the bay. It was academic, the way he read each of their intentions and turned them against his pursuers. Right when they thought they had him cornered, he would slip into an alley, a small crevice, or through a barricade they had set up.
Leaving the tricky mountain switchbacks, it became clear that the cops were kicking things up a notch. The Interceptors had arrived, and they were packing some serious hardware. A pair of two sporty-looking cop cars peeled out from a hidden alcove on the road, flipping on their lights and engaging in hot pursuit as they announced their presence over the radio.
"Interceptor units I-32 and I-15 have engaged in the chase. Patrol units back off and begin corralling."
The amount of pursuing officers instantly fell from at least seven to just the two, but that did not mean it would be any easier. These cops knew how to drive, and stuck to TJ's bumper like they had been glued there. As he weaved through the congestion, the radio lit up again.
"I-15 here, just completed a scan of the suspect's vehicle. This case is now top priority for all units, I repeat; top priority. Scan shows an explosive device is primed and ready for detonation, get the E.O.D squad mobilized and ready."
TJ's gut nearly fell through the footwell as he froze up. A bomb? An active bomb? He did not see anything in the vehicle that looked explosive, but that was an issue for later. There was no stopping right now. The thought of ditching the car in a building came up in his mind, but he shot it down. He had to keep the pursuit going. Refocusing himself, TJ noticed that he was quickly approaching a highway on-ramp. Without second-guessing himself, he took the wheel and cut hard to the right, breaking out into a wide drift. The impromptu smoke screen gave him some space as he put his foot to the floor, shooting out as far ahead of the cops as he could.
Speeding down the highway, TJ had no time to take in the vistas as he weaved in and out of traffic. The four lanes he could play with had been separated from the opposite direction by some sort of thick metal divider. Fake grass and palm trees swayed on the islands in the middle of said barricades, giving the chase a tropical feel. The cops were still close by, albeit spaced out over a few car lengths.
There was a hint of euphoria that flooded his brain, the chemical acting like a drug that dulled him to any imminent threats. The open sense of speed was a familiar high that he had indulged in many times before, especially as the roadway on his side opened up. Traffic cars had mysteriously vanished, a question formulating in the back of his mind that he was soon given the answer to.
"We've shut down your side of the freeway, a roadblock is set up and waiting in two kilometers. Lethal force has been authorized, back off so you're not caught in the cross-fire."
Another bucket of ice-cold water was splashed onto TJ. Panic replaced the euphoria as his heart began to pound. The Interceptors were backing off, but they were still close enough to surround him if he slowed down. In the distance, he could see the rapidly approaching barricade. Cops lined up behind their patrol cars, each one armed with some sort of rifle. There was next to nowhere for him to go.
Just as TJ was about to rip the handbrake back and try his luck with a one-eighty, he noticed a break in the barrier on the highway. The tropical highway divider was open, but just barely. He did not care, he had to take the shot. Just as the cops at the line raised their rifles, TJ cut the wheel to his left and dumped his adrenaline.
The purple hue had returned, allowing TJ to see both the barricade and the crack in slow motion. His peripheral vision noticed bolts of light streaking toward him, making him duck down beneath his steering wheel. The bolts shattered the passenger-side window and would have turned his head into a tunnel if he had remained seated. He had no time to dwell, he had to keep moving forward.
The sports car shot across the island, gaining a small bit of airtime as well as a temporary loss of traction. The tires chirped and shrieked once they hit the proper road surface again, attempting to hold on to the road as tightly as they could. TJ gave his burning rubber some help by taking his foot off the gas only for realization to almost literally strike him. He was driving into oncoming traffic. The flashing headlights and horns made his stomach do a knot as he braced himself in his seat.
He had to dance through traffic that was now panicking just as much as he was. Cars slammed on the brakes, swerved, and attempted to move out of the way. He was playing a dangerous game of chicken every second now, but he had his saving grace of heightened senses.
This did not give TJ the ability of super speed however, something he realized as he made a sudden mistake. He turned left just as a civilian turned right. They were on a crash course, and were about to collide in a split-second. TJ tried to cut his wheel as far to the right as possible, but there was only so much leeway that physics would give him. The sudden jerk from left to right sent the car into a drift, leaving the left rear quarter panel to gently strike the side of the sedan.
The impact sent the Celeste spiraling to the left and spinning out. TJ held on to the steering wheel for dear life, watching the world go round and round and round and round. There was no time to assess the damage, for he gunned it as soon as the car was straight. He could hear the wailing sirens pass him by as he kept driving, along with a new series of holes in the windshield and windows. He was thankfully still alive, but this was getting way too hot. He had to disappear, and fast.
The cops were not so willing to let him go. A roar overhead caught TJ's attention, prompting him to look out the shattered window. Through his visor, he saw that some sort of helicopter hovered above him, except it had two rotors on both wings as well as a propeller in the back. The sight of a ghetto bird was something that he was used to, and something he knew how to deal with.
Putting his skills of evading choppers in the past to work, TJ got off the freeway on the wrong side of the road and began blasting down the busy city streets. Horns honked, people pulled out their phones to record, and congested traffic became home as the sports car tried to deal with the imminent threat. The helicopter was hot on his trail, until TJ suddenly slammed on the brakes and threw the car in reverse.
The helicopter did not expect such a maneuver and worked to swing itself around as the car sped down the road backward. As soon as it swung around, TJ put the car in drive and drove toward the chopper, forcing it to make a long and arduous radius around the city block. Using their confusion and frustration, TJ began weaving between buildings with no rhyme or reason. Cops were crawling all over the busy streets, catching a glimpse of him every now and then.
He could not deny the amount of fun he was having at the moment. The thought of the bomb in the car slipped his mind as he played hide-and-seek with the local law enforcement, giggling at their frustration each time he slipped through their fingers like a stick of butter.
"This is Air-Seven," a new voice suddenly chimed in. The sound of rotor blades in the background gave away the fact that it was the helicopter pilot speaking up. "Suspect's car is wired up with ICE, can't shut it down remotely. We're able to ping it though, live location should be on your screens now. He's got nowhere to hide."
"Hey! That's cheatin'!"
The cops did not care about the inaudible protest from the driver, as they soon descended on his location like a pack of rabid dogs. The patrol cars snarled as they surrounded the sports car from all angles. TJ dropped his foot on the gas and sped through a small crack in the rapidly forming barricade. The realization quickly hit that no matter how well he drove, he was a marked man. His brain began to rack with ideas that flew out as soon as they crossed his mind. Juggling on-the-fly thinking with speeding away from the cops was a disaster waiting to happen.
Another distraction quickly arose in the form of his PDA buzzing. Looking down at the infotainment screen for a split-second, TJ realized it was an unknown number and slid the answer button to the left, picking up the call.
"Hey, you look like you're having fun down there! Sound like it too. You're good, you know that?"
TJ kept quiet, keeping the pedal pinned as Interceptors nipped at his heels while the helicopter overhead kept making itself known. Zoe scoffed over the line, audibly snapping her finger with an invisible smirk. "Am I muted? I'm not talking to myself, am I?"
"Kinda busy here!"
"Ah, right. Focus, it's important. Well, I'm all done. Soon as the fun started, everyone just left. Got what I needed to get and I'm already headed to see our friend in the back of a taxi to Corneria City. I think I'll give the driver a handsome tip, too."
TJ's attention shifted between the road and his infotainment system, shock and anger mixing on his face as he took a wide corner. "You left?!"
"Well, duh. Time sensitive meeting here, bud. Can't exactly stop for ice cream and wait for you."
"What about a way out?! I got the entire pig pen down here on my ass! An' you ever thought to tell me that this car was wired hot?!"
"Mmm, that sounds like a you-problem. I'm sure you'll figure something out. See you soon!"
Before TJ could say anything else, the call was dropped. Out of rage and frustration, the street racer slammed his fist on the steering wheel. He needed a way out, and fast. Approaching a nearby wharf, TJ needed to make some breathing room for himself. The cops would still know where he was, but he would at least have some space to formulate his thoughts.
Burning like wildfire through the dockyard, the battle scars on the cars were beginning to show. Scratches, bumps, chips, and cracks were all prevalent on each car as the police onslaught continued. The driver knew that they had to lose the cops here and now, and nothing was going to stop them. The dock were his playground, as he used the environment to his absolute advantage. Dipping and ducking around cranes, barreling under shipping containers and weaving around heavy equipment became par for the course. While the cops struggled to keep up, TJ kept bobbing and weaving like a pro-boxer.
TJ smashed through the small wooden gate arm that barred access to the rest of the docks with half of the police force on his tail. Wailing sirens began to overrun his eardrums as the cops swarmed the dockyard, hot on his tail. He was running out of of space to breathe. Behind each shipping container was another cop, and gyrocopters hounded his every move. He was running out of road.
Running out of road.
An epiphany erupted from TJ's mind as a smile crossed his lips.
Putting his foot to the floor, TJ could hear the confusion coming from the cops as they backed off. "Control, suspect is driving toward the edge of the wharf and is not stopping. We're gonna give him some space, but we might need EMS here soon."
With space being made, TJ began to swerve through a series of open warehouses, shocking the sparse workers as he appeared and disappeared in a flash. With each building he ran through, he could see the water getting closer and closer. It was now or never. Speeding toward the ocean, TJ aimed for a close call with the side of the exit. Once he was all lined up, he gave a solemn smile to the interior of the car. "Thanks for the ride," he breathed, giving the steering wheel a gentle pat in the process. As soon as he entered the last warehouse before reaching the edge of the dock, he quickly took off his helmet, unbuckled his seat belt and opened his door. He quickly tucked and rolled out of the speeding vehicle, ignoring the pain of rolling along the ground. His clothes prevented him from becoming a meat crayon, but he knew that bruises would welcome him in the morning.
A loud clang filled the air, TJ stopping his roll just in time to notice the open door of the Celeste slam shut due to grazing the exit before it took flight. The vehicle disappeared from view with a rev before the sound of splashing water filled the air. As TJ got to his feet to dust himself off, a muffled boom made him jump slightly. He took it as his cue to leave, grabbing a yellow hard hat and throwing it on his head before casually speed-walking away from the scene of the crime. For now, all he had to do was blend in.
Jogging back to the nearest roadway, TJ's heavy breaths and pounding heart filled his ears. The sounds of gyrocopters soaring overhead indicated that they still thought he drove off the pier and into the wharf itself. He was thankful that no spotlights fell on him as he slowed his jog to a walk. His saving grace was that he was as dry as bone, leaving him at the bottom of the list of suspects. Thanks to the trick with the door, the cops still thought he was still in the burning wreck. Passing through a break in the fence and discarding the hard hat disguise, TJ froze when he felt a pair of headlights shine on him.
As he prepared to sprint, he realized that it was just a taxi driving down the road. He began to frantically wave his arms in an attempt to get the driver to pull over to the side of the road. With luck on his side, the faded yellow cab pulled to the side of the road and automatically opened the rear door. TJ refused to wait a single moment as he practically dove inside the cab and slammed the door shut behind him with a reverberating thud.
Looking at the driver, he was a gaunt snowshoe hare who looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here. His massive pierced ears were pressed against the roof of the cabin, while his black hoodie, face piercings, and ripped black jeans made him look more like a drug dealer as opposed to a cab driver. "You good?" His tired voice broke TJ out of his trance, something he corrected as he sat up in a laid-back pose and fixed his hair.
"Yeah, all good here. Just, mind droppin' me off at 1500 Seashell Way?"
The hare shrugged and quickly punched the address into the GPS. Without another word, the small taxi puttered down the road, leaving TJ to get comfy in the backseat as he tried to make himself as inconspicuously small as possible. He had gotten away, he did it. The cops were chasing their tails looking for someone who didn't exist. To reinforce his assertion, he pulled out his PDA and quickly tuned it to the local police scanner frequency. With the volume low, he put the speaker up to his ear and carefully listened in.
"Uh, this is Interceptor Unit Six-Two, that Celeste is at the bottom of the bay. No sign of the driver anywhere."
"Copy, Six-Two. Command is recommending that forensics check the car for any DNA once it's dredged up, see if we can get a match on a possible perp."
"That's gonna be a hard negative, Dispatch. Celeste appears to have immolated from the on-board explosive device. Driver might have bailed, but we never saw the door open. Recommending we let the CDF know about a possible failed terror plot."
"I'll pass the info on. Command wants any units still involved in the pursuit to set up roadblocks and checkpoints throughout Aquilia Wharf. We're investigating leads about a break-in at a CDF artificial intelligence and robotics lab-"
TJ silenced the scanner, shoved the PDA back in his pocket, and bit his index knuckle. Looking out the window, he could hear the various sirens still screaming throughout the bay. His hope lay in the taxi cab taking a silent route through the scenic town, a town that TJ attempted to enjoy the sun-soaked afternoon in. Looking at the infotainment system in the center console of the cab, he was taken aback when he noticed that the chase had only lasted around twenty minutes. In his mind, it had been hours.
Something clearly annoyed the driver of the cab as he turned a corner with an audible groan, ripping TJ out of his thoughts. "God, I hate cops… I mean, seriously, look at this! A roadblock? For what? Hope you didn't have to be somewhere fast, this might take a while…"
"No!" TJ blurted out, nearly flinging himself into the passenger seat as his eyes locked onto the roadblock quickly approaching. How they mobilized so quickly was a secret that terrified him. The wide stare that the hare gave him indicated he might have overplayed his hand as he slowly sank back into his seat. "Look, I gotta get there fast. Any chance you know a way around these blocks? I ain't a fan of cops, either."
The hare stared at him for a second before shrugging. "Yeah, sure. I know a few backroads, but it'll take a bit longer."
"That's cool. Just, no cops, y'know?"
"Yeah yeah, I got you."
What followed was a series of snaking through back roads and various side streets as the driver did his best to avoid the cops. Thankfully, he was a native of the town and knew his way around. Save for a few flashing red lights, TJ barely saw another cop on the way to safety.
After almost a half-hour of driving, the cab stopped in front of the warehouse. TJ thanked every lucky charm he could as he pushed the door open to get out. As soon as his first foot hit the pavement, a sigh came from the hare in the driver's seat. "I drove you and you're gonna run without paying? Not cool, dude."
"Look man, I really gotta get goin'. And I don't have a cash or card or anythin' on me. Can you just… I don't know, put it on my tab or somethin'?"
The hare glowered at TJ for a second before sighing. "If you're not dead by the next time I see you, double fare. I don't forget a face. Especially when you don't have any fur. You should get that checked out, by the way. I don't think it's normal."
TJ stared back at the driver, who simply waved him off and closed the door from the driver's seat before lazily driving away. There was a slight fear that the driver would put two and two together, but TJ doubted he cared enough to go to the cops. Instead of worrying, TJ jogged across the cracked concrete, excited to return to the stolen Viper.
Thankfully, the resting snake was where he had left it. It was still obscured by the sheet, something that TJ took care of as he yanked it off, letting it flutter away in the wind. Wasting no time, TJ hopped in the driver's seat and fired it up, letting the sound of a naturally aspirated V10 fill the stale air. For as beautiful as the town was, it could not compare to the beating heart of Detroit he sat in.
With all eyes off of him, he sped back to the Great Fox, a cocky smirk stuck on his lips as he reveled in giving the cops the slip yet again. All he had to do now was wait to be contacted by Zoe again, and then he could go back home. Everything was going to be okay.