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CHAPTER 3 - DEATH CHASE

The black blade sunk deeper into the center of her chest.

Its spiral heel spun until it released pure white vapor, digging the scythe even further into her flesh. Tayte fell on her back and planted her feet on the floor as she arched up.

Then, the center of her chest radiated a gray glow as wind gusted out from it. She forced her eyes down to watch the rest of the metallic shaft disappear into her chest.

The screams came out once the process was over.

Chris grabbed her writhing body off the floor and aimed his gun at the ceiling. The lights went out. Then, Chris fired at the group as he shielded Tayte. The unfocused shot was repaid with another from Muscles. Glass sprayed into the darkened space. The bullets didn’t stop there. Chris returned fire with a twisting, screaming Tayte in his arms as he backtracked.

“I know it hurts, but you’ve gotta work with me here, okay?” Chris shot at more tube lights and grasped Tayte’s arm. “We’re going to have to run!”

Muscles walked through the broken glass, striding heedlessly into the battlefield, delivering rapid-fire. Chris knocked over some racks and wall mounts, and fired back in the chaos—literal shots in the dark.

Tayte remained in a hunched position, groaning over her sore chest. And felt Chris’s grip hardening on her arm as she sprinted alongside him. Bullets whizzed past the two, explosions of wooden dust veiling their dimmed path, and shattered pieces of tube lights raining over them as they plunged deeper into the darkness.

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The back alley door burst open. Chris and Tayte rushed out into the night. Chris held his gun just as firmly as he did Tayte’s arm. He stopped and checked his left and right over and over.

Bang! The gun went off and Tayte jumped.

“Sorry, my bad!” Chris said. He checked again and chose left, dragging Tayte through the alley. He took a turn, and they found a matte black van waiting at the end. Chris didn’t stop and led her towards it. Its parts were customized to look like a military-grade vehicle. It had fortified bumpers with a front steel guard and large tires. Its mighty engine roared awake, flaring its angry headlights, making the two come to a halt.

The size of the armored behemoth didn’t compromise its speed. The brutish vehicle was rolling towards them, its acceleration multiplying in just a matter of seconds. Chris pushed Tayte out of the way and dove in the other direction. The van screeched to a stop. Chris rose to his feet and dusted himself off, glaring at the car. It responded with an arrogant honk.

Chris opened the back doors and beckoned Tayte over. “Come on, we gotta go now! Before they come and kill us all.”

It was taxing, but Tayte managed to pull herself up, hissing through the aches, and caught herself giggling midway. She stopped and looked to the side with her brows raised.

“What’re you doing? Get in!”

The last bit of screaming snapped Tayte out of it, ran to the van, and hopped in.

The inside was spacious. Two seats were in front of her; the passenger’s seat was clearly just a lounge chair implanted in its spot, and from where she stood she could see the insanity that was the dashboard. A multitude of gauges were arched behind a makeshift steering wheel, fashioned with yellow tape and a bundle of colorful wires dangling from under. The rest of the instrument panel displayed an array of buttons, switches, dials, cranks, ignition locks, blinking lights, and a radar.

As for the driver—he was brown-skinned with a blonde head of hair and beard of the same color. He turned back to a gaping Tayte, analyzing her through his heart-shaped, rose-tinted glasses.

The driver whipped to Chris. “Who is that?”

“Just drive!” Chris ran up to shotgun and plopped onto the embedded chair.

“Oh no, if she is going to ride in Vanessa, then we need to know her name.”

Chris knocked his head back as he groaned. “Her name is Tayte.” He began the typical ritual of introducing strangers to each other. “Tayte, this is Ryder. Ryder, this is Tayte.”

Ryder cleared his throat.

Silence followed, and Chris rolled his eyes and then patted the back of Ryder’s seat. “This is Vanessa. Vanessa, Tayte. Tayte, Vanessa.”

“The van?” Tayte asked.

Chris strapped on the homemade seatbelt. “Now, drive!”

Humming excitedly, Ryder pulled the gear stick, and they rocketed in reverse, sending Tayte to the floor. They rolled out onto the street; Ryder shifted gears, and they were on their way.

Ryder, beaming at the windshield, yelled, “Nice to meet you, Tatyana-darling!”

Tayte rolled over and hit the other side of the van. “It’s just ‘Tayte’,” she said.

Ryder frowned, puzzled. “Weird. Where are you from, darling?”

“Stop trying to get to know her. It doesn’t matter,” Chris said, and checked the side mirror. “Why did you try to run us over?” he asked.

“I wasn’t. I just didn’t want to make you guys walk over to me. I was making life easier for you.” Ryder glanced at Chris. “So, things didn’t go as planned, huh?”

“Every time a man makes plans. God laughs.”

“Well, at least you aren’t blaming things on that curse of yours.”

“Oh, who says I’m not?”

Ryder chuckled and shook his head. “The Kamaitachi stayed behind. Sucks for you.”

“No, I got it.” Chris reacted to Ryder’s incredulous look by pointing back at Tayte on the floor; struggling to find her footing with the turbulence. “It’s in her.”

“Why…?”

“They were going to kill her!” Chris defended. “Domingos showed up with her out of nowhere, and I had to act fast. All those months of planning made irrelevant just like that.”

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Tired of finding new spots to hit her head with, Tayte gave in. “Can I get a little help here?” She requested, out of breath.

Chris made a face. “Oh, right!” He unfastened his seatbelt and wobbled his way to her. He helped her up, and she turned her back to him. The two swayed where they stood.

“Do you have anything to uncuff me?”

“Actually, no. The only other alternative would be to break your wrists. Commando-style.” Chris let out a snicker.

Tayte turned her head back to him with a deadpan look and said, “Okay.”

Chris held her look with concern. “That was a joke.”

Her expression didn’t change.

“Oh, shit,” Ryder said as he checked the side mirror.

“What is it?” Chris asked.

Then, Tayte looked out the window to her side and saw that the midnights streets had gained one more occupant. A motorcyclist, sporting a garish African-print jacket and concealing his face with an animal-shaped skull helmet, neared the vehicle.

“It’s Ayo,” Ryder announced.

Chris’s face scrunched up. “Just Ayo?”

“Yep.” Ryder outstretched his hand to the side and clicked one of the flashing buttons. A hybrid of disco and electronic music boomed from the stereos taped to the ceiling.

“What’s that?” Tayte asked.

“It’s future funk, baby!” With a sleight of hand, Ryder popped open a cover on the dashboard. “I’m going to need you two to get comfortable. It’s about to get a little wild!” He flicked a switch and the van zoomed into warp speed. Chris and Tayte dropped violently and stayed pinned to the floor as Ryder was pushed back into his seat holding onto the steering wheel for dear life.

Tayte pulled herself up and pressed herself against the side of the van’s interior and looked out the window. Ayo was still on their tail with blue flames shooting from the exhausts of his decal-spotted-sport bike. Ryder made a dangerous swerve into another street. Ayo swerved just as dangerously and just as successfully.

Ryder scoffed at his rivals’ excellence.

With the combined whining engines of the racing vehicles and the bombastic aesthetic music playing, Chris screamed face down on the floor to get his point across. “Of course! We catch a break and only have one of them go after us and it happens to be the underworld’s fastest driver that goes after us!”

“Um, excuse me?” Ryder screamed back, focused on the road ahead with everything outside the vehicle zooming past as if they were performing light-speed travel.

“You know that’s a fact, man,” Chris said as he turned over and sat up, pushing his back on to the side of the van, opposite from Tayte.

“He is only the fastest when it comes to bikes.” Ryder smacked the dashboard and started dancing to the music. “He can’t outrun this beauty.”

“Just focus and show me what I paid for.”

“Which one was he back at the museum?” Tayte asked. “The one shooting at us?”

“No, that was Domingos,” Chris said. He went on, “not everybody went inside the museum. There were others who stayed outside the perimeter of the museum to—”

“Um, Chris!” Ryder interrupted.

“Right! Why am I explaining this to her?”

“No, I was going to suggest you guys take an actual seat. I don’t want to worry about any broken necks!” Ryder careered into another street, knocking the two down to the floor again.

Tayte sat up. “There are only two seats here.”

“Then, sit on Chris’s lap.”

Like he was a rake being stepped on, Chris sprang up. “Uh…” he stammered as he looked back through the window.

Tayte looked in the same direction and caught something eerie.

A golden brown nimbus was leaking out of Ayo. He freed one hand and extended it to the side. The inside of his sleeve made a glow, and something shot out of it. He caught a paw in his hand.

“Can’t you go just a little faster, buddy?” Chris urged Ryder.

Ayo kept up with the chase, steadying the motorcycle with one hand as he swirled the paw a couple of times until it radiated a sinister glow. The paw flecked out a glowing orb that quickly increased in size and gained the shape of a monster.

By the time the creature hit the asphalt, it was yards behind Ayo but caught up to him in an eye blink, now running by his side. It was large and cat-like. The feliform had a golden brown coat and was marked with black spots.

Tayte turned to Ryder. “What just happened—?”

“He whipped out his Relic,” Ryder said, unamused. He reached for a dial and turned up the volume. “Gotta focus if I want to lose that thing!”

Tayte shifted her focus back to Ayo as he put the paw away, and the beast sprinted to the side and disappeared from view.

“Where did it go?” Tayte asked Chris.

Panicking, Chris rushed to the other side, tripping and falling onto the lounge chair along the way. He checked the rear mirror and his face fell.

“Don’t tell me…” he started.

One of the back doors took off.

As a heavy breeze pushed itself into the vehicle, Tayte gawked at an angry cryptid chewing onto hardened steel like it was bubble gum without losing speed in its sprint.

“What is that?” She shouted.

“That’s a werehyena!” Chris replied, pointing at it.

The werehyena spat out the door and kept its huge, slimy maw open, focusing on them with its shining white eyes.

Ryder let go of the wheel for a split second to clap. “Maybe you should bust out your Relic, too?” he suggested to Chris.

“Okay, yeah, fine.” Chris responded. He stood firmly, grabbing onto the back of the passenger seat to keep balance. He called, “Lukwata.”

Tayte witnessed a strip of blue light line down his torso. The side of a shield slid through the opening.

Chris pulled the scaly kite shield out; it was dripping and had a spear-shaped tail hanging off it. He moved towards the torn opening, leaving a trail of water, and blocked the cavity. He pressed his body against the shield while fixing both heels onto the floor.

Getting bored of being left out of the action, Tayte turned towards Chris, alarming him as she rocked back and forth. With a quick maneuver that involved rolling forward, she sprouted to her feet and her cuffed wrists were now in front of her.

“What the…?” Chris uttered, keeping his firm stance. “Aren’t you just a mortician?”

“Mortician apprentice,” Tayte corrected. “Can you explain what’s going on? How did you pull out that shield from your chest? Was it magic? That scythe went into my chest. Does that mean I can do the same?”

“Just go sit, Tayte!”

Tayte placed a finger on her chin and looked off to the side. “What was it called again? Kama—”

“Wait, don’t—!”

“Itaci?” Tayte finished and a glowing gray spotlight spawned in the center of her chest, gushing out rapid winds as a black shaft extended from the light. The scythe shot out. Its blade connected with the handcuff chain, slicing through it seamlessly. As for the shaft, it poked right into Chris’s gut.

Chris, alongside his dripping shield, was ejected from the vehicle.

It was a move made in a spli second. Tayte grabbed onto the neck of the scythe while Chris grabbed onto the end of the shaft, falling onto the asphalt with the shield on his back, making for an improvised sled.

As the street slanted, naturally increasing the speed of all racers, the bottom of the shield sputtered. Chris panicked, screaming with white fiery sparks jumping around him. The downhill road started to snake. Ryder managed the slight turns without slowing down.

Tayte pressed her side onto the remaining back door, gripping onto the neck of the scythe as she piloted Chris, following the oscillating movements of the van.

Chris titled his head back and the werehyena easily cut through the distance between them, Ayo slalomed behind it. Chris removed a hand from the shaft and equipped his scoped gun. He spun himself around, locking his arm in a painful, twisted position as he held onto the shaft, and closed one eye.

He pulled the trigger and hit nothing but air. Chris squeezed the trigger for the second time and the muzzle stayed silent. “Aw, man, it jammed!”

“Why are you using a broken gun?” Tayte asked.

Chris persisted with the trigger. “There’s no point in buying new ones!”

“What do you mean?”

Chris shook the gun. “Because of my curse!”

Tayte arched her brow.

“I just had this fixed yesterday! I don’t understand—”

The gun produced a white flash and the werehyena’s head jerked to the side as it gave out a whimper; it slowed down.

“Hah! I got ‘em.”

Then, a golden brown aura leaked out of the werehyena. It flowed to its side and conjured another in its image.