15
The woman on the motorcycle pulled up next to Darius.
She pulled out a gun.
“Damn!” Darius ducked.
I ducked too, jumping with every shot.
Blam!
Blam!
Blam!
The bullets struck the glass but bounced off. The glass glowed green.
“Bulletproof glass,” Terrance said. “Ram her, Gordon!”
Gordon veered into the next lane, but the woman weaved away and Gordon jumped back into the center.
The woman nearly struck the curb, but she regained her balance and came for us again.
Gordon revved.
Terrance rolled down the window. The woman aimed her gun at him.
Terrance let a gigantic blast off of his fingertips, knocking the gun out of her hand.
The gun landed on the street and a box truck ran over it, igniting it. A nearby car ran off the road and into the grass, a flat tire steaming.
The
