LotS/The Story/Playing with Fire (Part 1)/Wheels of Fire

The two cars -- one black, the other navy blue -- were like insects. But their sloping metal carapaces were nearing by the second, enlarging into something far more menacing.

Ali swore and ran for her bike. Mr. Trench Coat's hand grabbed her shoulder. They didn't like that, and they told him so with a burst of flame beneath his fingers. He leaped back and emitted a fresh squeal.

"Save me!" His singed hand steamed in the rain. "I won't get to my vehicle in time!"

"It'll cost you."

"I'll pay anything!"

"The magic words. Hop on."

She mounted the Phoenix Cycle. He tumbled on behind and wrapped his arms around Ali's waist in a frantic death grip. They didn't approve of this. But their mistress seemed to want Mr. Trench Coat to survive, so they refrained from immolating him. For now...

The motorcycle shot off almost as soon as Ali turned the throttle. Mr. Trench Coat's head bumped against her shoulder, and his arms tightened as though he were a wrestler seeking a hold by which to suplex her off the bike.

There was a booming crash. Ali looked round, just in time to see bricks scattering from the blue car's hood. Armored... And if it could smash through a wall like that, she didn't want it getting anywhere near her bike. She accelerated. The powerful engine's hum grew louder.

Water splashed from above, raking her face. Mud splashed from below. Waves and chunks flew from the bike's wheels on either side. Amidst it all, Mr. Trench Coat's voice was a soft moan at her ear. Perhaps after this he'd lay off the spy novels...

The cars were fast. The blue one was already uncomfortably large in the rearview mirror. Ali looked to either side. The trees coalesced into a forest in the distance. Maybe her Phoenix Cycle could find gaps between them where the cars couldn't follow... But that was risky. If the bike got tangled up in the foliage...

No. If she kept going, making for the road, perhaps she could...

Let us do something about this.

"I'm using my hands," she replied. "I need them to steer."

"Huh? What?" Mr. Trench Coat shouted.

Make him do it, they urged. If you won't let us destroy him, at least make him useful!

"Fine! But if you get us killed..." She turned her head, putting her mouth close enough to Mr. Trench Coat's face to kiss him or bite his nose off. "Take over!"

"What?"

"Grab the bars and keep us going straight!"

"But I-"

"Now!"

He disengaged one arm, and grasped her so much tighter with the other that she nearly headbutted him to stop him crushing her guts. His free hand trembled its way to the right grip. Ali moved her own hand off it to make space. There was an instant's sharp jerk. He wailed, but it made him snatch hold of the grip without further hesitation. She had to grab his hand to stop him swerving them towards the nearest tree.

"Take the other!"

The second transition went smoother. Now came the hard part...

Ali brought her legs up, and span herself around in a single swift motion. Mr. Trench Coat's face gaped at her from behind the raindrops that fell off the brim of his hat. When she wrapped her legs around him, the bike swerved.

"Keep us steady!"

She grabbed his wet coat with her right hand, and put her face almost on his shoulder. Her left hand took aim.

The blue car was only a few yards away. A woman was pulling herself out of a rear passenger window, clutching a vicious looking sub-machinegun.

It's wet, they said. We'll need help.

"You've got it..."

Ali clenched and unclenched her fist in a rapid motion. The bracer she wore on that arm hissed. Flammable fluid spurted out. Deep in the core of her being, they reveled. Fire flashed around Ali's left hand. It gobbled up the liquid and flew out in a long, blazing stream.

The woman screamed. Her gun dropped from her hand and was lost in the muddy, churned-up ground. She fell back into the car, taking the conflagration with her. An instant later the door flew open, and a boot from the other rear passenger sent the burning woman flying out. She splashed and rolled in the mud -- until the black car's wheels went over her.

Ali smirked. Her incendiary stream played over the blue vehicle. The windshield bubbled.

When the frantic driver swerved, desperate to get away from her line of fire, the blue car span out in front of the black one. The crash and crunch of metal were music in her ears.

Ali cheered. So did they.

Then she unlocked her legs, span back round, and took control of the bike again -- just in time to zip into the road in front of a truck. She laughed when the driver's horn blared. In a few seconds his lumbering vehicle was far behind.