The Mowtivator rolled down the broken asphalt, its engine humming steadily as Rachel perched on the fender, her legs dangling casually. She had one hand gripping the edge of the machine, the other resting on her new Boomstick Deluxe. My ears had finally stopped ringing from earlier, and while the silence wasn’t exactly comforting, at least I could hear myself think again.
Rachel glanced back at me, her hair tousled from the breeze. “You gonna drive all day, or are we actually stopping to figure out what’s going on here?”
I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the road—or what was left of it. “Figured we’d find answers somewhere between not getting mauled and not starving.”
She snorted. “Solid plan, Blake. Really inspired.”
Elmo’s voice piped up in my head, chipper as ever. “Oh, she’s got a point, Blakey-boy. Maybe if you wandered off into a suspiciously quiet alleyway, the answers would jump out at you. Or, y’know, another mutant death machine.”
The Mowtivator rolled down the broken asphalt, its engine humming steadily as Rachel perched on the fender, her legs dangling casually. She had one hand gripping the edge of the machine, the other resting on her new Boomstick Deluxe. My ears had finally stopped ringing from earlier, and while the silence wasn’t exactly comforting, at least I could hear myself think again.
Rachel glanced back at me, her hair tousled from the breeze. “You gonna drive all day, or are we actually stopping to figure out what’s going on here?”
I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the road—or what was left of it. “Figured we’d find answers somewhere between not getting mauled and not starving.”
She snorted. “Solid plan, Blake. Really inspired.”
Elmo’s voice piped up in my head, chipper as ever. “Oh, she’s got a point, Blakey-boy. Maybe if you wandered off into a suspiciously quiet alleyway, the answers would jump out at you. Or, y’know, another mutant death machine.”
I ignored him, though Rachel’s smirk suggested she had a good idea of what Elmo had said. She shifted on the fender, resting her Boomstick across her lap like it was the world’s weirdest banjo.
The remains of the block party stretched ahead of us, bits of abandoned chaos scattered across lawns and driveways. Inflatable decorations lay deflated like sad little puddles, and the kiddie pool we’d passed earlier was still a grimy pink reminder of better days. A soggy beach ball rolled across the street, pushed by a lazy gust of wind.
I slowed the Mowtivator as a rusted-out station wagon came into view. That’s when I saw it: a lone tabby cat perched on the hood, its yellow eyes glowing like headlights in the twilight. It stared at us with all the territorial malice of a junkyard guard dog.
Rachel leaned forward slightly, her expression somewhere between amusement and annoyance. “Seriously? Another cat?”
I didn’t answer, because something about this one felt... off. Its fur was patchy, and its tail flicked like a snake preparing to strike. Then came the low growl—a deep, guttural sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Elmo,” I muttered. “Tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”
“Oh, it is, buddy,” Elmo replied with mock glee. “Congratulations, you’ve unlocked the Pride of Alleyway Doom encounter. Bet you feel real special now.”
Rachel tilted her head, noticing the movement before I did. From the shadows, other cats started emerging—mangy, feral, and bristling with hostility. A dozen sets of glowing eyes blinked into existence, each attached to a snarling ball of fur and claws.
“Okay,” Rachel said, sliding off the fender and cocking her weapon. “This just got interesting.”
I pulled the Mowtivator to a stop, gripping the steering wheel tighter. The claw arm hung at the ready, its joints creaking slightly as I adjusted the controls.
The tabby let out a loud yowl, and the pack surged forward.
“Rachel,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “You’ve got the fancy new toy. Please tell me you know how to use it.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she said with a wicked grin, shouldering the Boomstick. “I’m about to show you what this thing can do.”
The first cat leapt at us, claws extended, and the fight was on.
As soon as the yowl echoed out, the pack of feral cats surged forward, a swirling, snarling mass of claws and fury. My gut reaction wasn’t bravery—it was sheer, unfiltered panic.
“Hang on!” I shouted, cranking the Mowtivator into a sharp turn. Rachel barely managed to climb back onto the fender before I slammed the throttle forward, the engine roaring as we took off down the street.
“Are you seriously running?” Rachel yelled, gripping the Boomstick Deluxe tightly as she tried to steady herself on the bouncing machine.
“Not running,” I called over my shoulder, “strategically retreating!”
Elmo chimed in with his usual unhelpful commentary. “Oh yeah, Blake, this is a great plan. Because clearly, running from a pack of turbocharged murder mittens is going to end well.”
I ignored him, focusing on dodging the wreckage scattered across the street. The cats were relentless, their glowing eyes tracking us as they gained ground. The lead cat, the same Purrrsian that had started this nightmare, bounded forward like it was born to hunt.
Rachel twisted on the fender, shouldering the Boomstick. “Hold it steady!”
“You hold steady!” I snapped back.
She ignored me and fired, the Boomstick Deluxe letting out a flash of energy that streaked toward the pack. The spinning disco-ball core lit up, spraying prismatic light across the carnage. The bolt struck one of the cats dead-center, sending it tumbling into the others.
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+80XP
“Got one!” Rachel crowed.
“Great,” I said through gritted teeth. “Only, what? Eleven more?”
The Purrrsian leapt onto the hood of an abandoned sedan, using it as a launchpad to get closer. Its claws scraped against the metal, the sound grating on my already frazzled nerves.
“Rachel,” I warned, jerking the wheel to dodge a toppled mailbox.
She fired again, missing the Purrrsian but hitting another cat mid-leap. The thing exploded into a puff of glittering dust, the remnants scattering like confetti.
+76XP
“Why the hell do they sparkle when they die?” she asked, reloading.
Elmo chimed in, smug as ever. “Because every good apocalypse needs a little pizzazz, darling.”
The Purrrsian was still coming, its relentless growl vibrating through the air. I jerked the Mowtivator into another sharp turn, barely keeping ahead of the pack. Rachel nearly lost her balance, clinging to the fender as the Boomstick fired another bolt into the crowd.
“You could warn me next time!” she yelled.
“And you could aim better!” I shot back, glancing over my shoulder.
The Purrrsian’s glowing eyes locked onto mine, and for a brief, terrifying moment, I swear it smiled.
The Purrrsian launched itself off the roof of another car, claws extended like it was auditioning for Cat Fight: Apocalypse Edition.
“Hang on!” I shouted, yanking the steering wheel hard to the left. The Mowtivator screeched as it careened into someone’s lawn, flattening a row of abandoned lawn chairs and the remnants of a bounce house.
Rachel nearly toppled off the fender. “Do you even know how to drive this thing?”
“Do you know how to shoot?” I shot back, swerving again as the Purrrsian landed a few feet away, its claws digging into the grass like a feline terminator.
Rachel growled in frustration, gripping the Boomstick Deluxe tighter. She raised it, the disco-ball core spinning with another surge of power. “Just keep it steady this time!”
I tried—honestly, I did. But “steady” wasn’t exactly an option with a pack of rabid mutant cats chasing you through what used to be suburbia. The Mowtivator jolted over a garden gnome, its head snapping off and ricocheting into one of the pursuing cats.
“Direct hit!” I yelled.
“That was a gnome! Not me!” Rachel fired again, this time catching another one of the cats. It dissolved into sparkling dust, but the Purrrsian and its minions were still relentless.
+65XP
“Why won’t this thing die?” Rachel shouted, leveling the Boomstick at the lead cat again.
Elmo, ever the peanut gallery, chimed in. “Oh, come on, Rachel. You’ve got this. It’s just a fluffy murder machine with nothing to lose. No pressure.”
“Shut up, Elmo!” we both snapped in unison.
The Purrrsian growled again, sprinting ahead and leaping onto the back of the Mowtivator. I felt the jolt as its claws sank into the metal frame, and my heart nearly stopped.
“It’s on us!” Rachel screamed, whipping around and trying to aim the Boomstick.
I didn’t think. I just acted. Slamming the brakes, I sent the Mowtivator skidding to a halt. The sudden stop threw the Purrrsian forward, its claws tearing across the hood as it struggled to regain its footing.
Rachel didn’t wait for an invitation. She fired point-blank, the energy bolt hitting the Purrrsian square in the chest. It let out an unearthly screech as its body lit up, the prismatic glow of the Boomstick reflecting in its furious eyes.
But it didn’t die. Not yet.
“Are you kidding me?” Rachel yelled, reloading as fast as she could.
The Purrrsian, still smoldering, snarled and lunged toward me. Its claws slashed through the air, and for a moment, I thought this was it—my ridiculous, cat-induced end.
But I wasn’t done yet. I slammed the throttle forward, the Mowtivator roaring to life. The claw arm swung with a satisfying whoosh, catching the Purrrsian mid-jump and slamming it into the ground with a metallic crunch.
Rachel jumped off the fender, aiming the Boomstick at the downed beast. “Stay down!” she yelled, firing one last bolt.
The Purrrsian let out a final, guttural growl before exploding into a cascade of sparkling dust.
+120XP
The Purrrsian let out a final, guttural growl before exploding into a cascade of sparkling dust.
The pack of cats halted, their glowing eyes losing their intensity. Without their leader, they scattered, darting into alleyways and under abandoned cars.
I sat back in the Mowtivator seat, catching my breath. My hands were shaking, my pulse hammering in my ears.
“Well,” Rachel said, climbing back onto the fender, “that was... a thing.”
Elmo, of course, couldn’t resist. “Congrats, you two. You just turned the world’s deadliest housecat into confetti. What’s next, a parade?”
“Shut up, Elmo,” I muttered, easing the Mowtivator down the cracked street, the hum of its engine blending with the occasional creak of abandoned swings in the distance. The neighborhood was eerily still again, as if the pack of glowing-eyed demon cats had never existed. Rachel resumed her perch on the fender, Boomstick Deluxe resting in her lap, her finger tapping against the trigger guard.
“Think they’re all gone?” she asked, scanning the shadows of overgrown hedges and overturned trash bins.
“Doubt it,” I said, keeping my hands tight on the wheel. “But maybe they’ll think twice before coming at us again.”
Elmo’s voice buzzed to life with the worst timing imaginable. “Oh yeah, because glowing mutant cats are known for their critical thinking skills. Next time they’ll be waiting with coordinated battle tactics. Yelling Cobraaaaaa! as they spring from the shadows.”
Rachel groaned, running a hand through her hair. “Elmo, do you ever shut up?”
“Pfft, where’s the fun in that? You want silence, go away.” Elmo paused. “Besides, I’m just trying to help you out with my expert strategic advice. You know, the kind you’d get from watching G.I. Joe reruns while eating cereal. Real tactical genius stuff.”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “Yeah, we’re all going to die of old age waiting for that ambush, huh? Real Cobra Commander move there, buddy.”
Rachel shot me a side-eye, clearly still trying to wrap her head around the whole situation. “You really let him talk like that?”
“Why not?” I asked.
Rachel was quiet for a while, her gaze locked on the road ahead. I could see her jaw working like she was trying to figure out whether or not to start some kind of conversation, but she kept holding back. I could almost hear her thinking, wondering if I was going to be the one to break the silence, or if she should.
I wasn’t going to.
Elmo’s voice broke the stillness first. “Ah, come on, Blake, don’t leave the girl hanging. She’s practically begging for some kind of emotion from you. You know, the whole ‘caring, empathetic’ thing that humans do.”
“Not today, Elmo,” I muttered under my breath. “I’ve got enough to deal with without diving into that mess.”
Rachel’s eyes flicked to me, just for a second, before she turned back to stare ahead. There was this weird tension in the air, like she was expecting me to say something. Maybe even apologize for what had happened between us. But I wasn’t about to start that conversation. I wasn’t sure I even had it in me anymore.
“Seriously, Blake,” she said after a beat, a little more forcefully this time. “You’re just... fine with how everything’s going? No second thoughts? No nothing?”
I didn’t look at her as I shrugged. “What’s there to second guess? We’re alive, right? We’ve got bigger things to deal with.”
Rachel let out an exasperated breath, clearly not satisfied with my answer. I wasn’t going to give her anything more. I didn’t have the energy for it, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to dig into feelings I didn’t even know I had anymore.
“Elmo’s right,” Rachel muttered, almost too quietly for me to hear. “You’re a real piece of work sometimes.”
“Yeah, I know,” I replied, not even caring how it sounded. I wasn’t going to apologize for being indifferent. For all the craziness we were facing, the only thing that mattered right now was survival. And that wasn’t something I could afford to get distracted from.
Rachel didn’t respond. She just crossed her arms, staring out like she was having some kind of inner battle. And that was fine. Whatever she was feeling didn’t matter to me right now.
We were on this weird, messed-up ride together, but that didn’t mean I had to care about the details.