Chapter 6 Slave for Hot Asphalt

 

 “‘Ello cunt!” Spike shouted across a large hanger. A few vehicles down, just after a hovercraft, there was a figure standing next to an armoured vehicle. The hanger itself was bare and with no visible exit at either side. Planes, cars and everything in between were within inches of each other.

“Spike, it’s sir now!” a deep, male’s voice shouted back, standing up with a polish cloth on his shoulder.

“C’mon Boseman, when have you been a stickler?”

“Since I’m up for Elder if you weren’t aware,” Boseman grunted back.

Boseman stood tall, his robust frame resembling Goliath's width but nowhere near his height. Clad in a partially-tied boiler suit and a grimy black vest, he exuded an aura of raw strength. Darker mist swirled around his non-human face - an ominous glimpse of tusks protruded from his mist. His body language didn’t scream superior; the way he walked and held himself spoke of a life from the Underground. His grey skin was spotted with dark blemishes and the plethora of scarred tissue adorning his body confirmed his rank and prowess.

“Good to see you, sir,” Goliath said, stepping forward and extending out his hand.

Boseman clutched it, squeezing tightly, meeting his eyes under the mist. Goliath squeezed back and each of their forearms tensed.

“Might as well give him a reach around,” Spike mumbled under his breath as he rolled his eyes.

“I heard you put on quite a good performance,” Boseman recalled, breaking the handshake finally and turning to the eccentric bard.

“How would you know?” Spike questioned him, lighting a cigarette.

Boseman pinched the cigarette out of his mouth, placing it into his while pointing at a sign which read, ‘HIGHLY FLAMMABLE MATERIAL’. “You know, since I’m technically acting Elder, I’ve been using Mercy’s ID.”

“No,” Spike said, mortified, becoming serious with wide eyes under his mist.

“Goliath was right,” Boseman teased, pulling out his phone to reveal a video. “You do have great ankles.”

“Give me that now!” Spike screamed. “Cunt!”

Boseman simply raised a hand into Spike’s face and the feminine man could only flail his arms in protest. “I wonder who else would like to see this? Oops, I sent it. Oh, it went to Pink, the one you liked right?”
“Fuck off, mate, she’s just got a cracking arse,” Spike protested, desperately trying to grab the phone. “Fuck it, I look good in heels and you can’t tell me shit!”

Boseman snapped the case of the phone shut and shrugged his shoulders openly, kissing his teeth. “At least you admitted it. So,” he said, clapping his hands, sending a loud bang echoing around the hanger, “the Ill-Favoured Five on their first big job?”

“Bug’s Nest was pretty big,” Roach responded, spinning his new pistol around in his hand without looking up.

Boseman laughed. “Yeah, for you!”

“What you got for us today?” Goliath asked him, glancing at his watch.

“H-D-A-V. Class Six deferred pyro crystal with eight cylinders and some nitro if things get hairy - and it’s spring loaded. The big red button is in the middle.” Boseman took the team around the vehicle, opening the doors for them to gaze into. “I had some Fodders come in and sort the inside out so the princess will be comfortable. Roof hatch, roll cage, bulletproof glass with a rating of up to 2.6 enhanced with hardened fairy dust. Four-wheel drive as standard and the top speed will be - 190 if you’re kicking the shit out of it,” Boseman told them, tapping on the thick glass afterwards. 

The formidable armoured transport van loomed before them, its elongated and heightened rear section equipped with sturdy benches. Divided into two front sections, it was the one situated at the back that boasted the highest level of fortification. The tinted windows, surpassing even the thickness of the robust armoured plating, concealed the interior with an air of impenetrability. At the forefront, a battering ram stood as a testament to its invincible design.

“Didn’t know you had this in you,” Spike complimented, lying down and looking under it. “You even reinforced the bottom?”

“It came standard but you’re dealing with an unknown group today so I added a little more. Once this girl gets moving, nothing is stopping her,” Boseman answered, leaning on the vehicle.

“Thanks, mate, appreciate it,” Goliath said.

“I gotta do it for the promotion, you know,” Boseman explained, wiping an oil smudge from his arm.

“What, don’t want to look after your favourite team?” Goliath jokingly questioned.

“Nah, I did it so we don’t have a fucking army set on us if you guys fail,” Boseman spat, relaxing his shoulders.

“Oh, so no pressure then,” Spike’s muffled voice came from underneath the vehicle.

Boseman clicked his teeth. “I trust you guys, I do. I’ll be on Code Black with Mercy if shit hits the fan. Also, Spike, tell me what she smells like.”

“Sure, if you let me rag the fuck out of this after the job,” he proposed.

“Deal.”

“Alright you lot, load up. Mute, stay cute. And Roach, don’t die,” Boseman teased with a smirk under his mist.

Mute took a step forward, blade in hand.

Boseman coughed, chuckling after and taking a step back with his hands open sparingly. “Just a joke, Mute.”

The team swiftly loaded the vehicle with an array of formidable weapons. Realizing the gravity of the situation, they supplemented their usual arsenal with Goliath's trusty mini-gun, magical assault rifles, grenades, spears, and tire spikes, ensuring they were fully prepared for the possible challenges ahead.

As the moment arrived, Spike claimed the driver's seat, with Pointy occupying the passenger side. The middle section, just behind the other two was where Mute and Roach settled. In the spacious rear compartment, tailored to accommodate Goliath's imposing stature, he took his place amidst a vast arsenal of weapons.

Each of the team placed an earpiece in and clicked it on. Goliath fingered his ear. “Sir, this is Goliath.”

Mercy’s voice came back, “Telepad’s location has already been set for you. Are you ready?”

“We are, sir.”

“Proceed.”

Goliath whacked the dividing wall into the middle section and Roach knocked into the front. The vehicle roared to life and Spike manoeuvred around the cramped hangar. Parking the vehicle on a large, circular tablet engraved with runes, Spike flipped a switch on the dash, and in a brilliant flash of purple light, they disappeared.

 

“When was the last time any of you lot came to the Overground?” Spike asked the team through the earpieces.

“I’ve lectured a couple of times here,” Pointy told them. “I despise the place, personally. I may act pompous at times but the people here are in a different league. I remember some young woman complaining the hovercraft she received wasn’t in the correct type of purple, then she proceeded to ask me what colour my hovercraft was.”

“I get the feeling Lady Evergrand might be far worse,” Goliath commented.

“Trust me, giant, when you see the tits on her, you’ll feel different,” Spike laughed, slamming it into fourth.

“I’m glad you’re taking this mission seriously for once,” Roach noticed. “You even have your hair down.”

“Yeah, well, don’t want Mercy on my arse big time. That was the first time I’ve seen heard fear in his voice, and fuck knows what’s scarier than him.”

“Ah, the Evergrands,” Pointy explained. “Biggest House in Eurella; they own 21% of the total wealth, second to the king at 34. One in five major stores are owned by them. Exports, imports, weapons, currency exchange—”

“We get it, Pointy,” Roach sighed. “The Evergrands are like royalty without the title.”

“And don’t forget that Lady Evergrand, Elora, is New London’s most prized possession. She appears in every Hunter ad, attends countless charity balls and galas and is at the top of the social media rankings.”

Goliath cleared his throat.

“I have done my homework as you all have, or should have,” Pointy explained to them. “Of course, the image she displays may be the total opposite of what she is. Only the Three Moons know how many publicists she has.”

“So open eyes,” Goliath concluded. “Spike, do NOT talk to her. I will rip you a new arse if you do.”

“What if she comes on to me? What if she just sees my v-lines and it’s a fucking tsunami down there for her—I can’t help it sometimes, I just have that affect on women.”

“By the Three Moons, someone help me,” Pointy complained.

“I don’t think you’ll get within ten feet of her around Goliath, do you honestly think you got a shot?” Roach commented

“More of a shot than a boring fuck like you,” Spike returned the comment quickly.

“We’re coming up to the Overground,” Goliath cut off the spiralling conversation. “We’re not being stopped or checked at all. Keep to the speed limit and do not drive like a twat.”

“Aye, sir,” Spike replied.
The Overground, inhabited by the affluent and opulent, stood proudly above the Underground, its towering steel structure casting a shadow below. Offering a glimpse into a futuristic Earth, enhanced by the infusion of magic, this was captivating to anyone. Twenty-five per cent of the land was designated for skyscrapers, with sky bridges connecting them, while the remaining vastness encompassed verdant fields teeming with exotic flora and fauna, interspersed with grand mansions. Hovercrafts, jets, and planes gracefully traversed the airspace, ferrying the elite to their lofty offices, encapsulating the epitome of extravagance.

The Overground dissociated itself from the rest of New London with its stark contrast to the difference in lifestyles. Access required specialized IDs, while vehicle registration incurred substantial fines. Fortunately, the team held the privilege of entry, courtesy of their organization's power. It didn’t mean they fitted in.

“Posh pricks and Bentleys, that’s how I’d describe this place,” Spike spoke his thoughts.

Their vehicle contrasted the luxurious cars on either side of them, emitting billowing plumes of smoke and an exhaust note reminiscent of a rat scurrying through a heated metal pipe. 

Eventually, they found themselves driving down a windy, paved road with luscious flora on either side. Every hundred metres there were guards present wielding the latest in magical weaponry, and each of them eyed the vehicle warily. The sun had just broken over the horizon, coating the surroundings in a soft orange hue.

“Damn, these cunts are rich,” Spike commented again, this time a little louder. “What the fuck is that?” he asked in surprise.

Pointy looked at Spike’s eye line, seeing a large two-head peacock with iridescent feathers - it was picking at small, rainbow fruits that hung from a tree. “I don’t know,” Pointy replied, offering the same puzzlement.

“Should be coming up to the place soon,” Goliath explained as he glanced at the intel on his phone. 

“Holy . . . shit,” Spike mumbled, his mouth dropping open.

Through the vegetation on the road, the team saw an unparalleled palace, blending Victorian grandeur with contemporary architecture. Ponds and cascading waterfalls encircled the majestic estate, while hedges and trees added to its allure. The mansion's vastness appeared endless.

“Remember, our E-Jammers are activated; they can’t see shit, they’re going to be suspicious,” Goliath told the team through the earpiece.

Spike slowed down and rolled to a stop next to a guardhouse with dozens of armoured men surrounding it. A timid guard with a brave face stepped up to the vehicle while glancing at his corrupted phone.

“What am I doing?” Spike asked through the earpiece.

“De-shade the window,” Goliath answered.

“Are you the Unwanted?” the guard’s muffled voice came through the thick window.

Spike’s finger found the button and the blacked-out window faded, revealing his misted face and dark cloak. With hesitancy upon seeing the mist, they asked, “Do you have any ID?”

Spike only stared at him through the glass, not offering him a shred of information, hoping that the threat of them alone was substantial enough.

“He’s got bollocks,” Roach said through the earpiece.

“Remember, these guys have never encountered an Unwanted. We’re a myth to them,” Goliath said through the earpiece.

“No shit,” Spike replied through gritted teeth.

The uneasy guard was dumbfounded at what to do. However, another guard quickly came running up to them and whispered in their ear. The guard threw his finger to the controller for the go-ahead and steel gates gently opened without a noise.

Spike kept it in first gear as he drove through the beautiful grounds. “You know, I kinda want to take a shit right there, see what they do, you know?” he spoke to himself, pointing to a spot in the middle of the estate.

“Now’s not the time but you’re welcome to try it when we’re off job,” Goliath told him. “Doubt you’d even make it into the Overground, to be honest. Alright, pull up at the entrance.”

“Which one?” Spike asked, confused.

“Oh, there’s maids out front on that one - just there, Spike,” Goliath pointed out.

“Roger.”

Stood in a semi-circle facing away from the grand, pillared entrance were guards, maids and dozens of suits with sunglasses.

“Still kinda want to take a shit right here,” Spike thought aloud.

“Don’t,” Goliath grunted with distaste, opening the back doors and stepping out - his enormous body made the suspension shoot back up. Some of the staff watched with horror but they remained stationary, keeping their composure. Masked mercs weren’t a common sight in the nonviolent utopia.

Goliath closed the backdoors and walked around to the driver's side and knocked twice on it. The rest of the team exited with their masks and cloaks on and stood on either side of Goliath.

“What are we waiting for?” Spike whispered to the team.

“Shut the fuck up,” Goliath said through gritted teeth, holding back the urge to bash the eccentric bard’s skull in.

A butler stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Lady Elora of House Evergrand.”

Spike held in his excitement while the rest of the team stiffened up their posture. Double doors opened and out stepped a woman adorned in everything expensive. Curled, golden locks floated down her waist which complimented a blue and silver battle robe more suited for form than function. Silver Chelsea boots strode forward and stopped at the edge of the stairs.

“M-M-Mummy,” Spike whispered, just enough for the team to hear and no one else.

Each step she took down was elegant and ladylike; she radiated a glow quite unlike any other. As she began to get closer, the team could see her in more detail. She had big, blue eyes with threaded eyebrows and white, sun-stained skin with no spots or tears. However, she contrasted the typical look of absolute beauty - she didn’t add up to it, it was more of her unique look that created an ulterior and superior beauty. Unfortunately for Spike, her breasts were covered up - still, that didn’t put him off.

With each step she took, her close bodyguards followed. Pointy steadied his glasses under his mist, attempting to gauge their power by aura alone. By his measurements, half of them were veterans, while others were trained from birth for close protection. They were of similar strength to the Ill-Favoured Five.

“The Unwanted,” she said in a neutral, posh accent, placing her hands together gently. 

“Lady Evergrand,” Goliath said, bowing his head, his rough voice contrasting hers. “My alias is Goliath. I am the Leader.”

“Oh yes yes, I know who all of you are. The Ill-Favoured Five, my father has told me all about you.”

“That cannot be good news,” Spike said charismatically, ignoring everything Goliath and Mercy told him not to do.

“Mostly bad yes, but, I am rather excited to be in your company today,” she declared, taking a step down.
From the corner of Pointy’s eye, he saw a glint coming from a rise in the rooftop. Instinctively, he swiftly brought his bow out from underneath his cloak and drew the silver string back within a split second. A spectral arrow formed rapidly and was let loose.

The close bodyguards all drew their weapons at him, ready to fire if the bow changed its aim.

Elora audibly gasped and the sound of a camera smashing followed. “It was just my photographer!” she cried out.

A few seconds went by before anyone spoke. That was until Pointy took the lead, as it was his action after all. “My apologies, Lady Evergrand, I believed it to be a sniper from the glint it produced. I have not injured your photographer, only the camera,” Pointy explained, tucking his bow back into his cloak.

Foretelling Pointy’s statement, a man came out from behind a rise in the roof and put his hands high into the air. “Sorry!” he called out.

“We are only a myth still, Lady Evergrand,” Goliath told her, sweat building on his brow.

“I see,” she said, touching her chin in thought. “Good shot.”

The close bodyguards lowered their guns, returning to their usual stance.

“Thank you, Lady Evergrand. Again, my apologies. You may bill us at the end of this mission for the expense,” Pointy offered, bowing with perfect form only a former Noble was capable of.

“That won’t be necessary. I just wanted it to be a leaked image to the press,” she told them with a playful wink. “It would cause quite a stir, don’t you think?”

“I appreciate your honesty,” Goliath said, bowing his head again for no reason at all. “We are only here to transport you. You will be safe in our care.”

“So who else do we have here then?” she asked in wonderment as she took the final step down to their level, eyeing the misted faces before her.

“This is Roach, Mute, Pointy and—” Goliath gulped, clearing his throat after, “Spike.”

“Alright, princess,” Spike introduced himself with a two-fingered, casual salute, while the rest of the team bowed their heads respectfully, Mute included.

Elora chuckled lightly behind the back of her hand. “I can assure you I am not a princess but I admire the comment. Pointy right, why the bow? Surely a rifle would be more appropriate.”

“Although I am a good shot, Lady Evergrand, I can change the trajectory if I miss. The mana feedback upon impact is also vital in determining if a foe has been fatally struck.”

“I never thought of it like that,” she spoke, cocking her head.

“Are you ready, Lady Evergrand? I don’t want you to sit in rush hour traffic,” Goliath hurried, glancing at the orange sun.

“Oh very much so. I have my body armour on and my phone turned off as the contract states. Will I need anything else?” she inquired, placing her hands together by her stomach.

“Not at all,” Goliath answered, finding everything in order. “I will be riding in the back but you will have Mute and Roach in the backseat with you. Roach will be your close protection today—” he pointed out Roach, “and won’t be more than a few feet away from you at all times. If you have any questions on the journey, you may ask him.”

“Excellent. I am more than ready,” she replied with a bright smile, borderline fake. She turned to her close bodyguards and said, “So I shall see you all in Pettywell.”

“We will be there waiting for you, Lady Evergrand,” a woman replied, hand over heart.

Goliath opened the door for the backseats and stairs extended outwards via hydraulics. He held out his palm and Elora Evergrand lightly pressed against it to get in. Spike jumped in the front seat and turned the engine on just as two box trucks did the same on the road outside. 

 

“She seems genuine,” Pointy noted in the earpiece. 

“Quality job on that camera by the way,” Goliath told him.

“I knew it wasn’t a sniper,” Pointy explained to the team. “We need to show our strength first and foremost. Plus, it was rather sneaky what she did.”

“Yeah, nice work, Pointy. And Spike, you’re in for it when we get back.”

“I’ll take a beating for making her laugh,” Spike accepted.

Behind and in front of them were two armoured box trucks filled with the Special Guard Division. The SGD were the pinnacle of prowess for guards within New London, with all of them being veterans. They were trained well and better paid than any other guard division. They were currently driving through the Overground with the HDAV between them, weaving around skyscrapers.

In the backseats, Elora sat in the centre with Roach fixedly gazing at her. Mute occupied the seat to her right, attentively listening to the outside world, on alert for any signs of potential danger.

Roach studied her through the slits in his mask. Often, he could pinpoint the character of those around him with unerring accuracy - discerning trustworthiness, bravery, and discipline, traits that proved invaluable during a crisis. He and his team had encountered their share of elites, yet the woman standing before him defied any stereotypes. She was an enigma that he found slightly irritating, unable to decipher.

Without any prompt, she asked him a question with genuine intrigue in her tone, “You’re Roach, correct?”

“Yes, Lady Evergrand,” Roach responded, withholding his surprised tone.

“How did you get that name or alias as you call it?” she questioned, folding one leg over the other.

Roach shifted uncomfortably in his seat, uncertain of what to say next. "I'm... I'm hard to kill, so to say.”

“Oh, like a cockroach? Very creative. And you’re Mute?” Elora turned her attention to the small woman.

Mute slowly cranked her head to the bright-faced lady. Roach had a deadpan expression, but hers was far worse under the mist, striking fear into most. However, Elora Evergrand wasn’t deterred.

“She doesn’t speak,” Roach told her, “it's why she’s called Mute.”
“Then how does she communicate?” Elora pondered.

“Only we understand her,” Roach explained, eyes locked on her.

“How mysterious,” she commented, gazing at the roof above her head. “Is she a telepath?”

“No,” Roach replied bluntly, then putting a finger to his ear as Goliath spoke through it.

“Then how?” Elora pressed, knuckling her chin.

Roach’s eyes darted to Mute, who replied with a subtle shrug of carelessness. “You need to watch her body,” Roach explained, moving his elbows to his knees, “every slight movement from her says a word, it's just too small for anyone to notice if you’re not around her a lot.”

“You are quite an interesting bunch, aren’t you? So, do you have a wife and kids, and play tennis on the weekend?” she questioned jokingly.

“That’s a personal question, Lady Evergrand, something we are not obliged to talk about as per the contract states.”

“I was only jesting, Roach, I wanted to gauge how hush-hush the Unwanted is.”

“You can inquire with your direct contact in the Unwanted,” Roach told her, unaffected by her charm and looks, “otherwise, no information will be shared by myself or the team.”

“Such a hard ball. I like it,” she said with a toothless smile.

“Heading down into the Outers now. Eyes open. Roach, keep yours on her - don’t want her poking her head against the glass,” Goliath instructed.

“Yes, sir,” Roach replied, finger pressed into his ear.

“Sir?” Elora pondered. “Is it militaristic?”

“Honour and respect, Lady Evergrand,” Roach corrected. “Goliath is the leader of the team and has rightly earned it.”

“Traffic seems good,” Spike said through the earpiece. “This ain’t exactly quiet with two fucking boxes.”

“Yeah, Mercy said we couldn’t shake them in the contract which is reasonable,” Goliath responded.

“They’re a liability,” Pointy remarked bluntly, eyeing the road ahead.

The convoy swerved down onto a major highway just as the sun broke over the Overground, covering the vehicle in golden light. There was not a cloud in sight; only the Three Moons were above their heads, with the Black Moon shining brightly as it always did.

There weren’t many vehicles out on the road at such a time in the morning, and the convoy was driving along the left-hand lane, faster than any other cars. They weren’t driving recklessly but with enough speed to cover a good distance.

“I don’t like this,” Pointy said, a slight hesitancy in his tone.

“What do you mean?” Goliath asked him, scouring the outside for any threats; there were none. It was often wise to listen to Pointy, but Goliath was set on not alarming Elora Evergrand in hopes her father would see them favourably.

“I… I-I cannot put my finger on it,” Pointy muttered, pushing his glasses up his nose. The black fur on his ears began to ride up, motioning backwards and forwards like water waves. “We need to divert course.”

“No,” Goliath sternly dismissed, “we’re not diverting. No sight of them with clear roads ahead,”

“At least check with Mercy,” Pointy pleaded, calming his ears by clutching at them.

Goliath clicked a button on his earpiece. “This is Husband, calling Home, any sign of the Inlaws?”

“Husband, there is no sign of them,” Mercy replied. “Intelligence is monitoring every car on the highway with you. No signs of weapons and every car is registered with the NLDA. We’re currently checking those who are coming onto the highway but still no issues. I will contact you when we find anything out of the ordinary.”

“Thank you, Home.”
“Switch to a private channel, Husband,” Mercy told him.

Goliath rotated the dial in his earpiece.

“How is she?”

“Different I’d say, sir, not your usual high and mighty. She seems to think this is more of a media stunt and a joke than actual protection; she had someone try to snap photos of us with a mechanical camera.”

“Smart woman. Has Spike said anything to her?”

Goliath swallowed a stone, replying with a shaky, “Yes, sir, about a four out of ten so far. It will not happen aga—”

“How did she respond?” Mercy immediately inquired.

“Surprisingly positive, sir,” Goliath recalled, scratching his stubble under his mist.

“Good, contact me when you—” the line cut off.

“Sir… sir? SIR?!”

“COUNTER JAMMERS!” Pointy exclaimed at the top of his lungs, clutching the tops of his ears.

Each of the Ill-Favoured Five dropped their cloaks, revealing their outfits and weapons, and in turn, causing Elora to grip her expensive robe.

“Where?!” Goliath’s voice boomed through the vehicle.

“No idea!” Pointy shouted after opening the section into the back seats, his eyes scanning everywhere and anywhere after.

“What’s happening?” Elora questioned, fear in her tone and eyes.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Lady Evergrand,” Roach reassured her calmly.

“ELEVEN O’CLOCK!” Pointy screamed at Spike. On the other side of the highway, a lorry had swerved, smashing through the concrete barricade and on course for a one-sided, head-on collision.

Spike dropped a gear, crossing over two lanes quickly, dodging the truck by inches. Pointy had been thrown around and accidentally turned the radio on. Unfortunately for the truck carrying the SGD behind them, it collided with them. An explosion of fire quickly followed the ghastly crash.

“Fuck, they’re here!” Goliath shouted.

The radio crackled on. “Good morning, New London! You’re listening to Classic Tunes on 105.3, that’s Classic Tunes on 105.3. To start this beautiful morning off, we’ve got Mr Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra. Down that coffee, grab your gun and start your day off with Classic Tunes because we’ve got you covered ‘till you finish!”

Through the smoke and fire behind them, six saloons and two box trucks shot through at breakneck speed.

“This is Husband to—fuck, no comms,” Goliath grunted to himself. He opened a small hatch into the backseats and shouted,  “We need to fly, Spike, gun it!”

“Roger, sir,” Spike acknowledged, smashing the clutch into its fourth gear and accelerating forward. “Let me know when you want me to press the big red button.” The HDAV sped past the SGD behind them, leaving them without passing on any information about the incoming threat.

“Don’t press the big red button!” Goliath bellowed back through, then slamming the hatch shut.

“What’s going on? Are the guards ok behind us?” Elora questioned, still gripping her robe with a heavy hand.

Roach could only see flames in the distance. “They’re fine, Lady Evergrand. Right now, the Children of Discordia are onto us, but let me assure you, everything is under control. This is a reinforced and bulletproof vehicle, nothing but a nuke is getting through it. If something does happen, you need to do exactly as I say, do you understand?” Roach instructed. His monotone voice and lacklustre enthusiasm didn’t sit well with her. However, with a nervous expression, Elora nodded.

“Coming up on either side!” Spike shouted through to the backseats.

Two saloons were speeding up on either side of them, occasionally weaving left or right to avoid slow-moving traffic. Despite their old appearance, the saloons’ exhausts echoed a story of modification.

“Mute, you’re up!” Goliath shouted to the small woman.

She had been a statue for the entire journey so far yet one order from Goliath and she was up on her seat, her curved blade gripped tightly in her hand. Between Elora and Roach, there was a roof hatch in the centre. She kicked it open with her tiny feet and was about to leap out when the vehicle came under heavy mechanical and magical gunfire. Elora covered her face but the bullets and magical rounds bounced off the windows, barely leaving a trace.

“You are safe in here,” Roach told her again. “Remain calm and do as I say.”

With tears forming in her eyes, she nodded.

Mute identified the onslaught of gunfire aimed her way, committing to memory each weapon's magazine capacity and distinctive sound. With impeccable timing, she propelled herself upward and outwards, just as the assailants' weapons clicked empty. Defenceless, they could do little to retaliate. Mute leapt right, crossing the small gap, and landing on the top of the saloon.

One among them who was foolishly exposing his head out the window, met a fate akin to a hot knife through butter, leaving their decapitated head to tumble down the highway. 

Witnessing this macabre spectacle, Elora stood as the sole witness to the gruesome aftermath. Her hands began shaking and she quickly placed them in her lap to hide them.

“She is a professional, Lady Evergrand,” Roach told her upon noticing Elora’s discomfort. She looked back at Mute who was now stabbing wildly through the roof of the car. Eventually, her curved blade hit the correct target, piercing down from their shoulder into their heart. She dragged the blade to her right and the car began to veer off towards the concrete barricades. With a one-legged leap, she found herself back in the vehicle just as the other saloon car had reloaded, and rained gunfire down upon them.

Elora could only stare in horror at Mute’s calm demeanour.

“Spike, deal with these pricks over here!” Goliath ordered as he wrapped a belt of .50 calibre bullets around himself.

“Aye aye, sir. Seatbelts everyone, please.”

Elora frantically made sure the racing belts were firmly strapped over her. Roach moved over to her and practically sat on her lap while gripping the handles on either side.

Spike pressed the brakes gently, bringing the battering ram within half a metre of the rear of the saloon. Slamming the gas, he jolted the steering wheel right. As soon as the HDAV connected with the rear of the saloon it ripped off the back end, folding one of the rear tires and snapping the axel. As a result, the axel fell onto the asphalt and the saloon became an Olympic diver, performing a spectacular front flip.

“Well, fuck me sideways, I wasn’t expecting that!” Spike commented, watching it fly behind him in his wing mirrors.

“Keep on the acceleration, Spike, they’re gaining on us!” Pointy told him, clutching at his ears.

“The big red button is always an option!”

“DON’T PRESS THE BIG RED FUCKING BUTTON!” Goliath screamed through to the front.

“Alright, sorry.”

“Brakes lights!” Pointy exclaimed, seeing traffic in every lane.

“Ah, shit!” Spike cursed as he dragged the vehicle over onto the hard shoulder. “Fucking c’mon!”

Goliath looked behind them, seeing both of the lorries driving straight through the cars with no remorse for the bodies or their coroners.

“Give me a good line!” Goliath ordered Spike.

“You want me to—”

“Head into the traffic! We need to stop them!”

“This is on you then!” Spike shouted, swerving back into the traffic. He began to drive directly in the centre of two lanes, clipping wing mirrors off of every car he passed. “Sorry… sorry sorry sorry - sorry sorry sorry - sorry.”

Goliath kicked open the back doors with his barrels on his minigun already spinning. “Suck on this you rat-arse pricks!” A brilliant ray of tracer rounds propelled themselves out from his minigun. The bullets peppered into one of the lorries and the surrounding civilians.

The large man kept his fingers pressed against the trigger, burning through his ammo quickly. An orange glow appeared at the end of the rotating barrel yet Goliath did not relent.

“Fuck. What have they done to them?!” he shouted in bewilderment.

The orange glow grew from the end towards the middle way of the barrels. Like the barrels, an orange glow appeared on the lorry’s hood and fire quickly engulfed it. “Drive, Spike, drive!”

A brilliant explosion occurred with whisps of red magic.

“What are the fuck are these guys carrying, Pointy?!” Goliath yelled.

“Think of the worst!” Pointy shouted back.

“One lorry down, one more now and four saloons. Forty targets I’m estimating! Do you agree?!” Goliath asked him.

“Yes!”

The other lorry began to accelerate and drive over to the hard shoulder, not caring about anyone or anything in its way. 

“On your right!” Pointy exclaimed.

“I can see thanks!” Spike complained, pressing his foot down to get away, then finding the lorry was instead gaining on them. “What sort of suped-up shit is in that?!”

As the RPMs increased, Spike began to whip past cars leaving a vacuum in his wake. His eyes were everywhere and the information coming from Pointy was being processed.

“Space up ahead at 1 o’clock - straight-left - accelerate.”

Even with all the seconds between directions, they were losing distance.

When the lorry was only forty metres behind them on the hard shoulder, the side suddenly disappeared in a purple flash revealing what looked to be heavy machinery.

“That’s not a fucking—” Before Spike could finish, glowing balls of magma burst through whatever cars led in their way and hit their vehicle. The thick layers of steel glowed and the surface began to melt.  

“That’s a Drakon Spitter; 13.4 propulsion with a mana battery the size of a small child!” Pointy exclaimed with both worry and interest. The Drakon Spitter was a heavy defence weapon used against sieges and monster hordes. It was much like Goliath’s minigun but it was able to rotate to the user's direction at ease and used magic only rather than physical bullets - it was mounted deep into the truck with seven or so Children of Discordia around peppering them with assault rifles. 

“I don’t need a fucking science lesson, Pointy,” Spike yelled. “Oi, giant! We need that thing gone!”

“I can’t get to it!” Goliath shouted back through.

“Mute, switch,” Roach told her.

As Roach moved backwards, Mute moved in his place on top of Elora. At the same time, he unsheathed his pistols and knocked open the hatch onto the roof. He didn’t jump out right away as his would-be position was being shot at.

“Open the back doors!” Roach shouted.

“Why?!”

“Just do it!”

Goliath grunted and kicked them up. Not even a split-second later, Roach’s head stuck out the hatch with a fully charged pistol he had yet to use. He cranked it to the max and spacial distortions began appearing around it.

“Whatever contraption are you using?” Pointy asked with worry, clutching at his ears.

Roach ignored him as his sights were set on the Drakon Spitter. Out of his pistol came a glowing ball of purple light wrapped around a bullet and packed with more energy than Spike in a whorehouse with a bag of fairy dust. The immediate force embedded the gun deep into his hand but it was all worth it when an enormous hole appeared inside the lorry, completely disintegrating the Drakon Spitter.

“Holy fuck, yeah!” Spike cheered.

With the enemy in panic and blood coming out of their ears, it was the perfect time to end them.

“Wait!” Goliath shouted. “I need one!”

Roach dropped back down and let the nimble elf swap positions. She leapt over the distance of two cars and landed in the bed of the lorry. Her blade made three swift movements, cutting two enemies in half and beheading another. The last one in the back tried to fire but their gun was cut in half before they could. Mute grabbed their collar and hung them over the edge. With a powerful kick, they were propelled towards the back end of the HDAV.

Goliath grabbed the top of the vehicle and pushed himself out into the air. Even though the truck was heavy, the weight displacement caused it to rear up onto its back wheels, throwing the occupants inside into the air. With an outstretched hand, he caught the flying Child of Discordia and threw them into the back. Without hesitation, Goliath lunged at them, grabbing them by the neck and forcing them into the side of the vehicle.

“How many more!” Goliath screamed in their face through his mist. He yanked down the snood they wore and thrust his face in theirs.

It was a lady in her thirties. She wore basic clothes akin to someone in the Outers, along with cheap body armour and an Earthern firearm. There were tears in her eyes which contrasted her squirming movements.

“My greatest sin is order. My greatest deed is chaos,” the woman sobbed.

With his other hand, he grabbed her wrist, broke it in half and then ripped it from her body.

“HOW MANY MORE!” he bellowed again.

“My greatest sin is order. My greatest deed is chaos,” the woman repeated with more tears in her eyes. It looked like she wanted to say something else but couldn’t.

With blood spurting all over the back of the truck, Goliath grabbed her collar and ripped off her clothes. There he found a Mark of the Bound, burned horrendously across her breasts, clearly without remorse.

More angry than ever, he tossed her out onto the road and her limp body rolled on the hot asphalt, leaving a trail of blood and limbs. “They’re bound - all of them!” he shouted through to his team.

“How did he get so many bound?” Pointy rhetorically asked.

“People will do desperate shit for coin, believe me,” Spike answered, eyes on road.

Mute re-entered the vehicle, and Roach cautiously poked his head out once more. Holding the pistol with his working hand, he charged it to half its maximum and aimed at one of the lorry's tires. A deafening boom echoed through the air as the bullet tore through the rubber, sending shards flying and causing the lorry to drop down, throwing sparks from the rim. The vehicle's speed waned, and it careened erratically, smashing into a dozen more cars before violently smashing through the concrete barricade, colliding with oncoming traffic.

“Let me heal you,” Elora offered, looking at the pistol halfway through his wrist and hand.

"Please, Lady Evergrand, try to remain calm," Roach implored, blood seeping onto the luxurious leather seats. His attention then turned to Mute, who, in a swift and fluid motion, cut off his hand before expertly thrusting her blade through the side of his skull. The air seemed to freeze as the atmosphere fell into a hushed stillness.

Elora let off a blood-curdling scream, “SHE’S ONE OF THEM!”

Roach, completely nude, ventured through a misty forest, where a dense canopy loomed overhead. No light entered. His bare feet crunched on the brittle twigs that littered the ground. Amidst the towering trees, the place seemed trapped in a timeless limbo, its entire essence enveloped in shades of black and white. He stretched his hands above his head and let out a long, lazy yawn. As he glanced to his left, he saw a woman in a pristine white gown sitting on a fallen log, her face veiled by a cascade of black hair.

“What was it this time?” the woman questioned. Her voice wasn’t ethereal nor godly, it was kind and well-spoken, contrasting her gothic form.

Roach licked his teeth, “Ah, the usual.” He placed himself down next to her on the log. “I see you’ve been decorating.”

The woman tutted jokingly, uttering, “This place hasn’t changed since the day you came here. The trees don’t sing and bugs don’t scuttle. It is but the void of your soul, Solomon.”

“Why do you always talk in riddles?” Roach grunted, peeling away at the dead bark with his fingers.

“Why are you still here if you don’t like my riddles?” the woman asked, turning her body towards him.

“Just - a tad hectic right now. I need a minute.”

“That you can have,” she told him. “You know, I’ve felt a great deal come through because of you. And you’re still no closer to finding—”

“Yeah, no shit,” Roach cut off, annoyed. “You don’t think I’ve been trying? I’ve just been busy lately with the job and every other clue leads me to a dead end. I don’t even know where he is.”

“Someone so adamant on dying isn’t so adamant, are they?” she questioned, urging Roach to scoff in response.

“There we go with the fucking riddles again. You think I want this too?”

“No, no I don’t. Who is the one you are with? The new soul. Theirs is similar to yours only coated in gold.”

Roach laughed without his eyes, shaking his head after. “Don’t worry about her. You don’t have any cigarettes, do you?”

“Why would you want those? You’re already half-dead,” the woman countered, standing upright.

“Always a tough bargain with you,” Roach muttered, standing up, and stretching again. “Alright, I’ll fuck off now. You’re going to get a lot more sent your way.”

“As be their ends of chartered fate,” she told him, standing up to to face him.

“HELP! HELP! She’s one of them!” Elora screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Relax, Lady Evergrand,” Roach said, sitting up with no hole through his head and his arm regenerated. “It was just a scratch.”

She screamed louder.

“Please calm down, Lady Evergrand,” Roach said again in a commanding tone. “I said I was hard to kill, didn’t I?”

Lady Evergrand looked at the mist on his face and realised the truth. Still, she just thought he had tough skin. “What by the Three Moons was that?!” she angrily yelled. 

“He didn’t get his alias for nothing, princess,” Spike said through the hatch into the backseat.

Elora calmed her breathing but her eyes still darted between the illusive elf and the hard-to-kill man.

“I know why there’s traffic!” Pointy exclaimed. “Blockade up ahead!”

Spike slammed on the brakes but he was going too fast - he pulled up the handbrake and sparks flew out from underneath. Even in four-wheel drive, the tyres skidded. They only stopped a few metres away from the enemy blockade.

“Is everyone alright?” Spike asked them - he was not; the seat belt had cracked his collar bone.

“Fine!” Elora shouted, moving wild hair out from her face.

“What’s going on?” Goliath asked through the two compartments after his large face had smashed into the metal grates.

“Blockade. There’s a shit ton of ‘em,” Spike replied, eyeing them warily.

Within seconds, the four saloon cars caught up with them and stopped a few metres away, surrounding the armoured truck. All the chaos had come to an abrupt stop - an intense stalemate.

“I’m not liking this, Goliath,” Spike said.

“Easy, Spike,” Goliath reassured, glancing outside through the small, thick glass in the back, “we’ll get out of this. Do you see any exits?”

Spike glanced all around him; eyeing up the one working wing mirror and breaking his neck around to look. “To be honest, Goliath, I want to press the big red button.”

“Don’t press the big red button.”

“Why aren’t they firing?” Elora questioned with a frightful breath.

Roach looked, turning his attention away from Elora, seeing a single man walk out from the barricade. It was a frail old man, withered and shoeless wrapped in a stiff cloak. He was shaking as he walked toward them, hands up sparingly. Around his neck was a metal contraption with spikes centimetres from his jugular.

“I do not wish to fight,” the man’s muffled voice pleaded. His tone didn’t hold conviction.

“Pointy,” Roach said, “what is that?”

“Old slave,” Pointy muttered in response. “Someone is speaking through him. He has an earpiece.”

“We are the children born of chaos, Discordia’s chosen. We only want Elora Evegrand, Unwanted, not you.”

Elora began to hyperventilate, dreading what was to come. What if they gave her up? Was she going to die?

“Is there a loudspeaker in this?” Spike asked, cranking his head to Pointy.

Without taking his eyes off the man, Pointy reached up and pulled the microphone down for Spike.

“Give us Elora Evergrand, and we will let you go,” the man offered, his whole body rattling with fear.

Elora Evergrand began to push against her restraints.

Spike cleared his throat and pressed down on the button. “Eh, nice offer, but we’re going to have to decline,” his voice sounded over the highway. He released his finger. “Oi, giant, what you want me to do?”

Goliath was looking for an exit - there were none.

“This is your last chance, Unwanted, give up Elora Evergrand, or be slaves to the Chaos Queen, Discordia.”

“I am debating it at the moment, mate - just mulling it over a bit, alright?” Spike replied through the loudspeaker. “Do you guys get holiday? Oh, wait, as long as she wanks me off before bed, I’m in.” He looked through the grate into the back and said, “I’m going to press the big red button.”

“Don’t press the big red button,” Goliath grunted angrily.

Spike huffed, clearing his throat, seeing the Children of Discordia prepare to fire. On either side of him, cars were blocking each way, some crashed, and others parked with civilians hiding inside. Even trying to ram through them, the HDAV wouldn’t make it far.

“You guys aren’t going to give me up?” Elora wondered, almost sobbing.

Roach gave her a puzzled look and said, “We’re the Unwanted, Lady Evergrand, we never back down on a job. We will die protecting you.”

She grasped her heart and let off a sigh of relief.

Spike was at his wit's end - Goliath was no use; he had to make his own way out. In his judgement, he calmly said, “I’m going to press it.” Lifting the clutch halfway and pressing down on the accelerator while the brakes were on, the wheels began to spin. Rubber burned and smoke rose.

“DON’T PRESS THE BIG RED BUTTON!”
“I’M GOING TO PRESS THE BIG RED FUCKING BUTTON!”

Sometimes, Spike didn’t listen. But, the times he didn’t, were often the times the team were better off. Spike’s finger flipped up the plastic cap on the gear stick and an excited thumb pressed down on it. The two exhausts glowed hot red and then purple fire shot out. Spike turned the wheel full lock and aimed the truck at the concrete barrier.

“Spike, we don’t know what’s on the other side of that,” Pointy warned, reaching for the handle above his head.

Spike ignored the caution, shouting through the back to Elora, “Hey princess, I know you don’t hear this often, but clench!”

Elora’s breath quickened as her soft fingers gripped the racing belts. Roach climbed on top of her, protecting her body with his own. All of a sudden, everyone was thrust back into their seats. The HDAV emerged through the smoke at breakneck speed and burst through the concrete barricade as if it were paper. The vehicle was so well balanced that it managed to land on six wheels - on top of a private school bus. The vehicle bounced off and skidded to an abrupt stop.

“Everyone ok?!” Spike shouted through, turning the radio off.

Elora gulped. “Fine, I think!”

“You are, Lady Evergrand,” Roach confirmed.

“SPIKE! I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!” Goliath’s booming voice bellowed, shaking the bones of everyone inside.

“Aye, sir,” Spike said in a pirate's accent, sticking his misted face through the grate, “but it worked, didn’t it?” Cackling, he pushed it into first gear and sped off, leaving the Children of Discordia in vertical difficulty.

“I don’t think we’ll have long,” Pointy calculated. “We need to get comms back up.”

“And how do you expect to do that?” Roach asked him, clambering off Elora.

“Drive far enough away from wherever the E-Jammer is,” Pointy explained. “But it can depend. They could have stuck it onto the truck when we were on the highway.”

“We’ll just have to find out,” Spike said, speeding through a red light and causing two cars to crash in the process.

Their earpiece crackled.

“Goliath!” Mercy said through it.

“CODE BLACK CODE BLACK!” Goliath shouted through. “Going through Elephant Castle towards First King Station! We need immediate support!”

“We are—” it cut off again.

“We got Code Black!” Goliath shouted through. “Head to First King!” 

“Are we getting help?” Elora Evergrand asked, hopeful.

“Yes, Lady Evergrand. Don’t worry yourself,” Roach reassured her.

“They’re close!” Pointy said, feeling the tops of his ears. “TURN LEFT!”
Spike followed the directions just as a convoy of the Children of Discordia passed through the traffic lights that would have certainly hit them.

“Route is to your discretion, Spike,” Pointy informed.

“Fuck yeah, shortcuts!” Spike yelled, dropping a gear and shooting into a thin but driveable alleyway. A car rammed into the wall of a building as it tried to follow them. 

“Lady Evergrand, are you ok?” Goliath asked in a very sweet voice, despite her hearing him threaten to kill his teammate.

“I think I’m fine - this isn’t my blood, right?” she asked, looking at her hands and dress.

“It’s mine,” Roach said to Goliath quickly. “Couldn’t help it.”

“My apologies about that, Lady Evergrand.”

“Just call me Elora and get me the fuck out of here!” she bawled.

“We’re on it,” Goliath responded, clearing his throat and gulping. “We are the Ill-Favoured Five, we have never failed a mission.”

In the front, Spike winced. “But we have, haven’t we?” he whispered to Pointy.

“Don’t put doubt in her head,” Pointy replied as he looked at every roof they drove past.

“Wait, pull over here - into the factory,” Pointy instructed.

Spike raised an eyebrow but followed the direction.

“Into the shadow. Turn the engine off.”

“Why are we stopping?” Goliath’s voice boomed through the vehicle.

“I have a theory,” Pointy told him.

“Now is not the time for—”

“Just be quiet and trust me. Spike, be ready to go,” Pointy snapped.

“Aye,” Spike confirmed.

“Goliath,” Pointy said, leaning into the grate, “check all around the van, underneath and on top. Let me know if you find anything.”

Goliath grunted in response and kicked open the back doors. A minute later, he came back in and closed them.

“Nothing?” Pointy questioned.

“Nothing.”

Pointy opened the hatch into the back. “Elora, are you wearing any new jewellery?”

“What? Why?” she worriedly questioned.

“Just answer me. Anything new? You came back from Urum, didn’t you? Did you wear that battle robe there?”

“No no no, this is brand new. I did receive something from my uncle over there, but he wouldn’t dare do anything to me - he’s family. Why are you asking me this?”

“Where is it, Lady Evergrand?” Pointy inquired, his tone acknowledging her emotions.

“It’s—” She slowly unbuttoned the battle robe and reached between her breasts, pulling out an exquisite, yellow jewel hanging from a diamond-encrusted chain. “It’s this, but why?”

“I believe there’s a tracker inside,” Pointy explained, pushing his glasses up his nose to examine the dangling jewel. “When they appeared at that junction, it made no strategic sense. Spike was right in taking that route through our training - it wasn’t a route they would expect us to take. The only way they would know if—”

“Lady Evergrand, we need to look,” Roach hurried.

Elora gulped, closed her eyes and regrettingly, handed over the jewel to Roach. Carefully, he laid it down on the leather seat in full view of Elora and Pointy. With a quick stab from his dagger, he cracked the stone in two. 

“That’s a fake stone,” Spike mumbled in disbelief. “It’s a gem that builds in an Elder Siren’s heart who has lived for over two hundred years. That wouldn’t just break.”

Roach turned over a portion of the cracked jewel, revealing a tiny circuit inside; a red light was pulsing, confirming Pointy’s theory. Elora audibly gasped at the betrayal.

“Spike, go,” Pointy told him.

Spike did as he was told and screeched off in an instant.

Pointy pushed his glasses up his face, thinking aloud, “They know where we are, we’ll have to find another hiding place - Roach, throw it onto something moving when we get onto a road. We’ll still need to head to First King. Goliath, do you concur?”

“I concur, Pointy,” Goliath said with admiration for his teammate’s wit. “Are you close with your uncle?” he asked Elora.

Elora wiped tears from her eyes, smudging mascara over her beetroot-red face. “Yes, we have always been rather close. He doesn’t come to New London often - likes to travel. He’s been in Sandrum for two years now actually.”

“Did he seem odd when he spoke to you?” Roach asked her, sheathing his dagger.

Elora shook her head as she tried to remove the tears streaming down her face. “He seemed more jolly than usual. I didn’t think much of it.”  Elora solemnly buttoned up her battle rob.

“This has been a plan for a while,” Goliath grunted out loud. “Pointy, imagine every possible route or hiccup is known. Plan accordingly.”

“Yes, sir,” Pointy acknowledged. “Spike, go right through under the H37. Roach, there’s an old army truck coming this way. Flick it inside.”

“We’re going away from First King?” Spike questioned, furrowing his eyebrows towards the man under the mist.

“Yes, but we’ll double back since that’s where our Code Black is. Every one of our moves must be random. Even without that tracker, we have little to no chance of outrunning them. Only the Three Moons know how many personnel they have. Now, Roach.”

Roach lifted the hatch above him and threw it onto an old army vehicle carrying fruits as it passed by them.

No more than five seconds later, Spike saw the truck being rammed into by an unmarked van. “No fucking shit,” he mumbled to himself and Pointy. 

“When is back up coming?!” Pointy shouted through to Goliath.

“Comms may be compromised. Give or take twenty if they can’t access CCTV,” he replied. “I need you to keep spinning them around—”

The front bumper of a lorry crunched into the side of the HDAV, propelling them into a bus stop, and leaving thick rubber marks on the asphalt road. Upon the collision, the vehicle was sent rolling into a parking lot, flattening cars with ease under its weight.