—
Chapter Twenty Three
Eyewall
—
“These your friends?”
Race turned back towards Shou with a bewildered expression. He didn’t seem to notice, his hands frozen on the steering wheel, glancing at all three mirrors in as rhythmic a fashion as could be managed in those circumstances. The three vehicles pursing were all black vans, each one completely unmarked, and easily outdid the little car Shou owned.
“Rotten-” Shou growled as one of the vans slammed against his car from the passenger side, scraping off the side mirror with a horrible noise. “Still making payments on this, guys. Be more considerate.”
Another van rammed into the vehicle from behind, pushing it even faster than before. A busy intersection forced the vans to briefly break off, and Shou swerved to cut through traffic, barely able to prevent the vehicle from rolling as it screeched out the other side.
“If you’ve got a party trick up your sleeve,” Shou finally glanced at Race as he spoke. “Then play it now.”
The vehicle was rammed from the side again, the attacking van pulling away briefly to allow the sliding door to open and reveal a suited man inside, who drew a gun and aimed it towards the pair. Reeling back, Race threw the side door open and kicked with all her might, slamming the outside of the door into the extended wrist of her attacker.
The gun flew through the open window of the door, and Race snatched it out of the air without thinking to. Her body language made it evident she had never held a gun in her hands before, awkwardly feeling for where her fingers were supposed to go, and after a moment Shou took it away from her.
“We could really use that party trick soon.” He grumbled, turning suddenly to avoid another attempt to ram his vehicle. Crossing through a gap in the median, he cut through two lines of oncoming traffic and went up the off-ramp onto the highway.
For a moment it appeared they were in the clear, as the vans had some difficulty maneuvering around to join the pursuit on the highway. Resting by the top of the off-ramp, Shou casually lit another cigarette and eyed the on-ramp on the other side. Just before the vans appeared over its curve, he shifted into reverse and rolled back down the off-ramp onto the street below.
“Dang it,” He mumbled, pushing the pedal into the floor. One van had remained off the highway to monitor the ramp, and roared towards him as he quietly exited the highway. Now driving backwards, he was barely able to avoid the massive black van as it smashed through the median in pursuit of his vehicle.
Pressing the button to lower his window, Shou watched it descended with an unenthused expression, finally sticking the gun out the window once it was low enough for his arm to fit. Two shots were fired; the tinted windshield ate one with minimal cracking, and the left front tire completely ignored the other.
This did little to stop the sudden charge, and the van smashed into the front of Shou’s tiny car with enough force to force it to turn. Race felt herself reaching for her mask just before she blacked out as the car tumbled into a roll.
—
“I was scared.”
Tone softly patted Corey’s head, even as the youngest member of the Wild Masks leaned into Tone’s side, making no special effort to stop the tears rolling down his cheeks. Kohaku was seated in front of them, one hand atop Corey’s, doing her best to comfort him without interfering with Tone’s efforts.
“Why were you scared?”
“Because,” Corey looked up at Tone, the lights in the ceiling dancing in his watery eyes. “I saw Ren die.”
Rook stopped adjusting the bandage on Ren’s forearm and looked over in surprise, Ren very quickly echoing the motion with surprise written across his features. “He got thrown back, hit his head on the table, and his neck broke. Kohaku cried. I threw up.” He looked down, across the room, into the opposite wall above Ren’s head. “I saw the funeral. Open casket, black…” He shut his eyes and shivered. “B-Black tie only.”
“Corey.” Tone gingerly lifted Corey’s chin back up, locking eyes with his for a moment. “You also saw how to save him in that moment. That’s why you rushed out and caught him even after you flipped him over by the collar.”
“Impressive, too.” Ren adjusted his collar as he spoke. “Haven’t been flipped in a complete circle since I was in high school. And you managed to completely stop my momentum in an instant, not to mention swinging Rook around and knocking Tone to the floor twice.”
“It’s all in the mask.” Corey deflected, not particularly eager to take any credit for his actions. “It’s like having a second brain, always telling you what’s about to happen… And what could happen. Anything I can think of, I instantly know.”
“Try putting it back on.” Tone said, immediately met with a disapproving reaction from both Corey and Kohaku. “I know, but listen. You saw what would undoubtedly be the worst possible sequence of events. Put that back on and tell me, with what occurs tonight… What does the best look like?”
With considerable hesitation, and an expression of immense concern across Kohaku’s features, Corey slowly returned the smooth mask to his face, his lips parting the moment it touched against his forehead. For a while he was silent, but as Kohaku opened her mouth to protest he held up a cautioning hand. “Just a moment.”
“Third panel from the corner, where Rook’s frame usually sits.” He suddenly continued, causing Kohaku to do a violent double take in reply. She looked at Tone in shock, only for the charred Wild Mask to reach out and press against the panel with one finger, causing it to click and swing open, revealing a refrigerator tucked inside.
“She wants the grape soda.” Corey continued, standing up as he spoke and walking into the center of the room. As Tone fumbled about in the fridge for the requested beverage, Corey slowly removed his mask and looked at each of the Wild Masks in turn.
“It’s going to take a lot of explaining.” He inhaled, slowly tapping his fingers on the mask. “And if I tell you too much, it won’t come to pass. But I think I’ve finally found a way for us to defeat the Pangolins.”
—
It took a great amount of effort for Race to wake up.
From her upside-down position, adhered to the seat only by her seatbelt, the added blood in her head was making it difficult to cognitively recover from the impact. Slowly drawing one hand into her suitcoat, her awkward grasp around the mask she extracted suddenly faltered, slipping off the smoothest portions of the facewear and sending it tumbling towards the ceiling of the vehicle. Being dazed and disoriented, she was unable to grab at it quick enough before it was successfully caught just shy of clattering against the ceiling.
The hand that gripped it held a cigarette in between two fingers, and extended out from a crumpled pile of Shou, pressed against the ceiling, having previously appeared unconscious. He drew the mask towards his face long enough to return the cigarette in his fingers back to his mouth.
“It’s party time.” He offered the mask towards her dangling hand. “Let’s see what miss Wild Mask can do.”
—