I looked into my sideview mirror even as Sam did the same, saw the thing bounding after us like a leopard, like a wraith, gaining rapidly.
“What is it?” snapped Mr. Fantastic. “What’s going on?”
I glanced between it and the road, accelerating rapidly. “It’s chasing us. f**k. Better get up into the Crow’s Nest, Lazaro. Just don’t get trigger-happy; we’re gonna need the ammo. Nigel, I’m going to need you to—”
“It’d be best to just let it go,” said Mr. Fantastic. “I mean, what’s it going to do—bite through solid steel?” He put a hand on my shoulder, comfortingly, reassuringly. “Save the ammo, Jamie. It’ll give up before we get there.”
I looked around the cockpit: at the banks and banks of instrumentation, the suffocating array of dials and switches—before focusing on a glowing blue toggle
