THIRTY-ONE
“We’re in sixth place,” Jo murmured, looking at the tablet. “And this section is called Fur Forest.”
“We’re going to—”
But whatever Nic had been about to say was cut off by the bullets suddenly pinging off the side of Frankie. Both Nic and Jo ducked on instinct, trying to take cover despite moving along the asphalt road.
“Where the fuck is that coming from?” Nic snarled, peering over the steering wheel in order to keep Frankie on the road. The forest around them was akin to that of a pine forest in the daytime, the trees massive and feathered with needles, but they were dry looking, as if they hadn’t seen rain in far too long. Though much of it was green, they were faded and brittle looking, and that was always a dangerous combination. Jo took in that detail even as the demon’s Alfa Romeo appeared out of nowhere, as if they’d been waiting for Nic and Jo to appear.
That was probably exactly what they were doing, Jo thought.
She’d suspected that there would be other teams paid off to take them out during the race. There were no rules in the Race Games. Anything went, and so competitors could be paid to take out another one if the right elite contacted them. Jo and Nic might have been denied their sponsors, but the other teams certainly wouldn’t have, especially with how many people wanted to eliminate the wolves completely.
The Alfa Romeo took the lead, the two passenger demons hanging out the passenger window, the two males snarling at Jo as she bared her own teeth. The only team of three in this race, they had an advantage when it came to combat. In answer to her own teeth flashing, one of the demons reached inside and pulled out a massive—
“That’s a fucking grenade launcher,” Nic warned, preparing to slam the brakes.
“Don’t stop,” Jo said, and she pulled the weapons panel down in front of her.
Unlike the other teams, Frankie’s weapons weren’t all hidden. The large Gatling gun on the fender well had made it through the hurricane intact by some twist of fate. Jo flipped the switch to make it come alive and glanced up through the windshield. It took two seconds to fire up completely, needing the extra time to gather energy. The demons were either slow or cocky, not reacting to the slow spin of the Gatling’s barrels. Either way, Jo grinned at the demons hanging out of the car in front of them when the system came completely online. Only then did the one not holding the grenade launcher realize what was about to happen. His eyes widened and he ducked back inside without warning the other one, resulting in the other demon staring at him in confusion. Jo finger waved at him when their eyes met through the windshield just before she pressed the trigger.
The Gatling gun came alive, and bullets began to spray. The demon had no time to duck inside, and so the bullets hit him square in the chest, one after the other, shredding it. Bullets wouldn’t kill him, but he would certainly be out of it for the rest of the race. He collapsed against the side, the launcher dropping and rolling into the trees as the demons swerved to avoid any more bullets.
Jo figured they would pull the one demon inside who was injured to get him out of the way. Instead, the other passenger dropkicked him out of the window. His body hit the ground hard and Nic had to swerve to avoid running him over. Not that he did it because he cared. Hitting a body would slow them down. Jo was reminded of how cruel the demons could be when it came to their own.
Jo flipped another switch as the second demon poked his head back out. The Gatling gun needed time to cool, the technology not as modern as the other teams guns may have been but it didn’t matter. Jo had rigged Frankie with as many weapons as she possibly could. The demon held up a handgun and aimed it right at her face, assuming they didn’t have bulletproof glass. Jo didn’t flinch. Nic didn’t swerve. Jo figured that was what tipped him off and made him hesitate. Still, he didn’t have time before she pressed the trigger again, this time for another weapon.
The tiniest little rocket exploded from the small compartment behind the ‘Cuda’s grill, the thing smaller than a tennis ball, and Jo watched as it hit the rear end of the Alfa Romeo. It embedded in the rear end and flared brightly for two seconds.
Nothing happened.
The demon laughed, grinning from ear to ear as if Nic and Jo were an embarrassment. “Couldn’t even afford proper weapons, you feral trash!” he called, laughter in the words as if it were the funniest thing he’d ever seen.
Jo smiled.
“Was that what I think it was?” Nic asked.
“Yep.”
“Shit.” Nic eased off the gas pedal, falling back from the demons just enough. “Ears.”
Jo covered her ears with both hands. Nic used his knee to keep Frankie steady and covered his own, just as the tiny rocket flashed twice. A loud whistle echoed in the forest around them, high-pitched and rising in tone so much, the demon grimaced and dropped his gun to cover his own ears. His eyes widened when he finally understood what was happening and he scrambled to reach the back of the car, suddenly uncaring if his eardrums burst, but it was too late.
With a great shriek, the tiny, miniscule rocket exploded inward rather than out, as if it were a black hole rather than a bomb. It shattered the rear end of the Alfa Romeo and began drawing it in, crumbling it like paper. The demon hanging out the window was sliced in half before he could get out of the car completely. The demon driver screamed loud and shrill just before blood splattered inside the windows. The scream cut off as the Alfa Romeo was folded end over end on itself. It was nothing but a ball of metal and junk a moment later, rolling to a stop in the center of the road. Demons were decently hard to kill, but there would be no coming back from that.
Nic rolled to a stop, his eyes wide. “The Whistler is terrifying.”
“Which is why I splurged and added it,” Jo grinned. “Handy weapon.”
The growl broke them from their celebration even as the horn sounded for the demon’s death. Jo blinked and looked out her window, peering into the forest. A set of yellow eyes looked back at her.
Nic stared out his own window, watching as they appeared like ghosts in the forest, phantoms who were waiting for their moment to strike. But one thing the council had never planned on became incredibly clear.
Jo grinned. “Wolves were always meant to run wild,” she said, and rolled down her window.
Nic did the same, until they were meeting the eyes of the dozens of wild wolves stepping onto the road. Without waiting for Jo to say anything else, Nic threw back his head and howled.
The wolf pack joined in, a song of victory and excitement, a push for Nic and Jo to win for all wolves. Jo joined in, throwing her own head back as she stood on her seat in the car and leaned out the window. The sound of the cameras in the trees, their beeping, the sound of the drones, was covered completely by the song of the wild. The world would hear the call and know that the wolves were not weak. They were not dirt. They would rise.
As the howl died off, Nic turned to Jo.
“Looks like we’ll have an escort for this next part,” he said.
Nic dropped Frankie into gear and took off, the wolf pack running alongside them like phantoms, at home in the forest despite the magic causing mayhem. The wolves were meant to be another obstacle, but for Nic and Jo, they were kin.
How foolish of the council to think them so easy to tame.
For the next five miles, the wolves kept pace with them as they weaved through the Fur Forest, as they followed the course in fifth place, gaining speed. The scent of a campfire filtered through the car, tinging everything with a charred aroma.
Only when the air began to grow smokey did the wolves howl in farewell and disappear.
Only when the sunshine disappeared and the orange glow ahead of them grew did Jo understand why.