Tasìa unfolded herself from where she stood, half-crouched.

How was she holding up? What resources, body and weapon, did she have to work with for the next go around?

She gave herself a once over with a glance downward.

The jeans she wore, Prissi's Oscuros Especiales, were a little too chic for an operative mission like this one.

They were the darkest of the pairs of jeans that she ordered from the Quick Mart catalog the previous evening, so she took her chance with them.

With the wear and tear that she afflicted upon them, they did not look so chic now.

Tasìa shrugged.

Easy come, easy go.

She tested her busted knee cap and gingerly set her foot down with some pressure on it. Then, she set her heel down.

Pain flared up her leg.

Whelp. There ends my dream of being a goalie.

Inside the dumpster bin, the tiger was trying to claw its way out. With a fit of squalling noise, it banged against the metal sides.

Thankful for the extra time that the cat's limited intelligence gave her, Tasìa tested the knee again. Her leg flinched as she brought her heel down, once more.

Tasìa scolded herself.

Damn. I did not heed my own caution when I kicked the fucker, yet again.

Even so, she knew that it was the best strategic option she had available to her at the time.

Well, fancy lass, you are sure as shit paying for it now. Got any ideas how you are going to dance with the devil-cat for another go at it?

As if to answer that very question, the Modality seized control of her body. From the pit of her stomach to the bottom of her lungs, she felt the tingles rub beneath the skin of her abdomen.

Every inch of her skin above and beneath felt warm.

The Modality was making an assessment of her caloric intake from the beer and cashews.

- Fifty-four hundred calories of pure protein would be needed to heal the knee back fully. At the moment you are in possession of twenty-seven percent of that total amount.

- Factoring peak efficient output against diminished return in the later stage, thirty-six percent of healing can be obtained at current caloric levels.

The tingling sensation dissipated as waves of energy expanded outward from her navel.

- Carbohydrate level more than sufficient for control grid maintenance.

Tasìa needed to brace herself as the changes in her biochemistry occurred at a rapid rate. As she pressed more weight upon her right leg, the pain already reduced to a manageable level.

It made her almost giddy.

She thought of the Olympic gymnast who somersaulted herself into the hearts of all Paraguayan patriots, and took the gold while performing her feat on a sprained ankle in the year just before the Cull Spore Invasion.

If little Fide Gao could do it, you can too, Tasìa!

The lion let out a blood-curdling howl. It banged against the side of the bin, and left an imprinted dent in its rigid sheet metaled surface.

Brave words flooded her heart.

"Yeah, keep doing that and break your freaking neck, you dumbass cat. Save me the trouble of having to do it."

Tasia picked up the pole support that the tiger had broken off of the bin. It was used by the garbage trucks to lift the bin up when servicing it.

The broken end now had a jagged indenture that ran down the shallow length of one side. She could use it as a weapon.

With the pole in hand, she gave the big cat encouraging but taunting advice to help it rejoin their fight.

"Come on, kitty. Come on, boy! You just need to look upwards to find your way out of there. Smashing against the sides wont do you any good."

A paw curled around the edge of the bin. A second one followed.

Tasìa backed up several feet and laid the pole at her side to hide her intentions from the beast. She glanced at Petro. He leaned with his back against the opposite wall from the line of dumpsters.

His eyes were drooped and they moved, unsteadily. She was afraid he was going into shock.

"Hey, Petro. Don't give up on me now. I have a plan."

He nodded his head to let her know he was still alive, and he understood her plan.

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The lion poked its head out of the bin with a stare fixed entirely on her.

"Don't I look tasty? Don't you want to take a sumptuous nibble. Come on, kitty."

Petro laughed, albeit weakly.

"You're insane."

Tasìa's hair stood up off the back of her neck when she sensed a change in its demeanor. She sensed the very moment that the tiger decided it had enough of her shit.

The flinch was a subtle one, but it was enough of a warning for her to clinch her gut and engage the Modality.

In the next instance, the tiger was airborne, at the apex of its leap, and at full pounce.

The very next instance after that, however, belonged to Tasìa. She had the jagged edge of the pole reared upward, and the butt end set firmly in place against the cement ground.

She crouched down. Only perfect timing would prevent her from getting at least some of her bones crushed.

When the neck of the tiger touched the jagged edge, the pole started to bend upon itself. In the next split-instance when the piercing path became set in place, Tasìa leapt away and she rolled into a crouch.

Though the beast gargled out a howl in protest, Tasìa feared that the pole did not penetrate nearly enough to seriously damage it. Given the solid muscle tendons and bulletproofed skin, it may have not done much damage to it at all.

Before she even bothered to check on the state of the beast, she scrambled once more for her revolver and her stiletto blade.

She decided to try the resonance disruption maneuver she discovered in the first round of their fight, just in case.

She did not think she could be precise enough in her aim to cause the fissures to occur without focusing the Modality at a sharper degree of focus than what currently coursed through her system.

It began to dawn on her that she could control its flow like applying a foot to the peddle of a petrol-fueled vehicle.

She did not want to use the Modality more than absolutely necessary. It had been three times already since the last time she took a piss. Her urethra was going to burn with the intensity of a thousand suns.

A fourth would certainly take her head off.

Tasìa glanced at the beast; the striped patterns along the entire course of its body were mostly symmetrical. Could she use that to her advantage to find the center fissure between the shots without being able to visualize the grid?

The tiger turned in her direction. The pole did penetrate the tiger's neck better than she thought it would. A good four, perhaps up to six inches, lodged into its throat.

It had trouble clinching its jaw. Pneumatic wheezing noises replaced its vibrant howl. The pole was crookedly bent around the fore of its right paw.

As it glared, ready once more to pounce, Tasìa took aim where on its forehead eye-like patterns formed.

She shot one round in each pattern and then dead-centered three shots above its nose in between them.

The phase-beast's head jerked up with a hard snap just before it faded out of existence.

She expired her breath slowly, and listened, not wanting to get her hopes up and de-escalate her tense battle readiness before the battle was truly won.

Tasìa heard nothing. The illusion of invisibility must have created a sound dampener, as well.

She had to let yet another opportunity to use the Modality pass. She doubted that the phase beast could hide its presence if she was primed to hear for its movement.

Regardless, Petro needed to be stabilized. She couldn't just stand there on-guard.

Shaking her head, Tasìa holstered her weapons as she approached the wounded man.

"We are in a world of hurt, Petro. I suspected that your friends would've shown up soon after I did. We could really use them about now."

Petro chuckled in response.

"Who do you think sent the cat after me? Fodor, the kid I tried to shoot, he is our resident beast-master."

His eyes suddenly closed. Tasìa thought he had gone into shock, but then he abruptly started speaking again.

"That garage with the hornets. That's where it is kept. It's on loan to us. Yes. We saw you. Released only enough to bite your ass and drive you away. Then you just had to mess with the electronics..."

When his words faded away, Petro's eyes hung low, once more. The pupils extended large and glared hazily.

She spoke to shake him back into conscious.

"A world of hurt doesn't even begin to describe it, eh? No. Don't answer that. Save your strength. I have a plan."

Tasìa fished through her fanny pack, and found the plastic capped bottle she kept the needles full of norepinephrine in. She brought out two of the needles.

"Okay, one of these is for you to keep on hand if I go into shock. The other is for me to do like wise if you do so."

His brows furrowed as he murmured.

"Why would you go into shock?"

Tasìa chuckled as she crouched down to put the needle in his hand.

"Oh, Petro. You are about to get a firsthand account of some really freaky shit."

Tasìa stepped away from the wounded man, took off her shoes, jeans and panties. She turned back around and faced him.

"I need to take a piss, and you need to keep your heart at an elevated rate. Win-win right?"

From his smile and the return of expression in his face, she could tell the plan was already working.

Tasìa squatted down close enough that he could administer the norepinephrine if she should pass out. He was in the splash zone of her stream but it couldn't be helped.

As she pressed her vulva to the side to spread her labia out to pee, Tasìa admonished.

"No. Don't look away. You might get bored if you do. Boredom causes a conscious mind to go into free fall. Keep your eyes peeled on the goods."

It took her several seconds for the stream to start. As steam rose up from the sizzling chemical mix below her, blood drained out of her head.

Tasìa felt light-headed and she gripped against Petro's one good leg. She breathed in slowly to achieve a meditative state that helped her endure it.

She heard Petro speak, but Tasìa could not make out the words he said.

Ride the lightning, gaucha-cowgirl!

The full stream took a little less than a full minute for which every second was an endurance test.

Tasìa could finally relax. She felt at peace as she squatted.

The color had returned to Petro's face. His lips gaped open. He appeared almost amused.

"What's so funny?"

"That is both the prettiest thing these eyes have ever seen, and the scariest."

"The prettiest? You don't say?"

"Like the folded petals of a brown tulip."

Tasìa's eyebrows crinkled.

"Aww. That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. But the scariest?"

She glanced down to appraise for herself. The foamy urine still sizzled. Bubbles popped and then splashed against her butt. Some of them even stung a little.

Honestly, she could see his point, but she decided to tease him for it.

"Scarier than being mauled by an invisible bullet-proofed tiger?"

"Oh, most definitely."

Tasìa shook her head.

As much fun as she was having, it was imperative to find a means to get him out of the alleyway. She suspected his current vigor was merely temporary.

She stood up, put her panties and jeans back on, and put her shoes back on her feet, as well.

As she tied her shoes, the tiger's sudden howl shook the walls at full blast. The beast stood at the entrance of the alleyway.

Tasìa got a glance at it before it began to move. The beast, or perhaps someone, the beast-master somehow, removed the pole that she had lodged into its throat.

She barely had the time to jump out of its way, as it rushed towards them. It grabbed Petro by his right thigh, and pulled him along as it phased out of existence just before it would have slammed into the back alley wall.

"Fuck," Tasìa yelled as she caught her breath.

She kneeled there for only a moment longer. Tasìa got up, she was determined. She wasn't ready to give up.

No rest for the wicked.

She had at least one solid idea where the beast may be taking him.

"Damn you to the infernal pits of Hell, you blackened souled devil-cat. This isn't over!"