Page 65 of The Timeless Vigilante

“We have to get that yellow contraption,” Gen urged, speaking out loud but also in Emperor’s head.

It’s a sports car, Emperor replied telepathically. And it’s really fast and turns more narrowly than I can.

Ahead, Hamilton’s sports car had abruptly spun to the left, swerving around a large structure that halted without warning.

“Watch out for the big metal box!” Gen yelled, ducking down, as Emperor flew up higher to avoid colliding with the obstacle.

It’s a truck, Gen, Emperor replied in her head, clearing the structure and diving back down, flying low. Can you say truck?

Gen nearly choked on the adrenaline as soon as she realized they hadn’t crashed. She let out a breath, grateful to see that Hamilton Dixon hadn’t gotten away and was up ahead, still in view. Thankfully traffic had worked in their favor, slowing the sports car’s progress, giving Gen and the dragon a chance to catch up.

Emperor banked sharply, narrowly avoiding a collision with the towering glass façade of the Petersen Automotive Museum. The sports car below swerved erratically to evade capture. It nearly hit several cars in its attempts to not slow through lights. Hamilton’s sports car actually trespassed onto the sidewalk, nearly mowing down several people who thankfully dove out of the way of the out-of-control vehicle’s path.

The dragon’s wingbeats pounded the air, echoing the relentless rhythm of Gen’s heart as they dove beneath the arching streetlights. The rush of wind and adrenaline was a dizzying cocktail in her veins. Onward they surged, past the glittering storefronts of designer boutiques and the bustling energy of sidewalk cafes. The city’s vibrancy was a blur of color and motion beneath them.

Hamilton’s daring moves appeared to be paying off, the sports car speeding ahead, gaining distance. His tires squealed—a mocking sound to his progress, like he was rubbing it in the dragon and rider’s faces.

“He’s getting away!” Gen yelled, gripping the reins even tighter like that might make her dragon go faster.

In a daring maneuver, Emperor corkscrewed through the air, dodging a billboard that loomed like a colossal lookout. The sign’s flickering images were a fractured mosaic of consumerism. The figures on the sign seemed offended that the pair nearly knocked into them.

The near collision sent Emperor off course slightly, nearly careening into a building. He over-corrected, dipping down low. To recover he blasted forward at super speed, making incredible progress. At that same moment, something on the road ahead slowed Hamilton Dixon’s sports car, putting him straight in Emperor’s path.

The dragon’s tail lashed out, sending a shockwave of force that crumpled the hood of the yellow sports car. The vehicle careened into the unforgiving embrace of a lamppost. With a triumphant roar, Emperor unleashed a torrent of flames, the inferno engulfing the road before the Director of Security’s sports car, trapping the vehicle in a cage of fire.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

THE FRAGILITY OF MODERN MAN

Downtown Los Angeles, California, United States

Emperor hovered down lower over the top of the yellow sports car. That gave Gen the opportunity to pull her leg around and slide off the side. She leapt from Emperor’s back, adrenaline and triumph pulsing in her veins as she landed on the hood of the sleek car.

Her eyes blazed with the righteous fury of a warrior ripped from their time and bent on protecting it from thieves. The Director of Security looked like a ghost as he peered oddly through the other side of the glass at the crazed woman, kneeling on his car and glaring at him from above.

Hamilton Dixon was strangely struggling behind a pillow of sorts that appeared to be filled with air. The thing must have shot out when the side of the car careened into the lamppost, Gen reasoned. Currently, the other side of the car was pinned against the pole, blocking that exit to the car. Gen didn’t really know how these vehicles worked or opened up, but she was going to break this one in half to get to the scoundrel inside.

Pulling up her fist, Gen slammed it into the metal under her, vibrating the car. It might have hurt to smash her knuckles into the hard surface, but her gloves served as armor. Not only that, but the adrenaline filling her blood made her feel invincible.

“Get out here, you worthless coward! Face me, you son of a dung beetle. I’m going to tear you in half, you pile of horse shit!”

“No-No-No!” Hamilton Dixon stuttered, shaking his head erratically, trying to back up more in his car, but with no place to retreat to. The man’s face was a mask of desperation and defeat as he found himself cornered in the car surrounded by fire and with a rage-filled warrior atop it.

Gen lifted her fist, about to smash through the glass to reach the thief and liar on the other side. A swoosh followed by a jolting wind and a change of lighting made her pause. Glancing over her shoulder, Gen realized that Emperor had extinguished the wall of flames encircling the sports car. The purple dragon stood beside the vehicle, an amused expression on his face.

Hamilton Dixon screamed from inside the car, now pushing to the far side, trying to get away from the dragon that lurked beside his window. The Director of Security seemed more like a scared child with his high-pitched yelping than a man. It was a sad sight for Gen to witness.

She pulled her gaze back to her dragon. Sensing the teasing look in Emperor’s eyes, Gen lowered her fist to her side. “What? Why are you glaring at me like that?”

“Because…” he said, drawing out the word and reaching out and using his claw on the door. Nimbly, and with surprising dexterity, the purple dragon opened the car door, releasing Hamilton Dixon, or more importantly, giving Gen access to the coward.

“Oh!” Gen exclaimed, excitedly, sliding off the side of the car and speeding around the door. “That was easy.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” the dragon said, lifting his wings and creating a wall so that the thief couldn’t try and get away. “To teach you about how to use everyday things in this world.”

“Thanks,” Gen said, reaching into the car and yanking the man out by the collar of his shirt.

“D-D-Don’t h-h-hurt meeee!” Hamilton Dixon stammered, shaking and throwing his head back and forth erratically. Gen picked him up easily and shoved him against the side of the car. The man was sweating profusely and was as soft as a feather pillow.

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