The Hummer roared like a wounded beast as it flew through the dark, underground tunnels of the arena. Inside, the silence was heavy. Ren and Carlos were both slumped in the back seat, their bodies broken and covered in dust and dried blood. Ren's eyes were half-closed, his breathing shallow, while Carlos looked like a fallen titan, his face unrecognizable from the self-inflicted blows.
Dante's face was a mask of cold stone. He gripped the steering wheel so hard the leather groaned. He reached the end of the tunnel, the same spot where they had entered. Without slowing down, he slammed his fist into a specific brick on the damp wall.
Immediately, the small robot bird appeared from a hidden slot. Its red electronic eye scanned the vehicle in a split second. The floor beneath the Hummer began to hum, and the massive lift started its slow, mechanical ascent. Dante tapped his fingers on the wheel, every second feeling like an hour. As soon as the lift leveled with the surface, he shifted into gear.
The Hummer screeched out of the narrow alleyway, leaving behind the smell of burnt rubber. Dante didn't care about traffic laws anymore. He swung the massive vehicle onto the main highway, the engine screaming as the needle climbed. 120... 160... 180... 200. The world outside became a blur of neon lights and grey asphalt. Dante was weaving through traffic, cutting between cars with inches to spare. His only goal was the Central Hospital. He looked in the rearview mirror at Ren's pale face. Stay with me, kid, he thought. You haven't even seen the real world yet.
Up ahead, a toll plaza blocked the way. Most lanes were packed with trucks and slow cars. Dante's eyes scanned the plaza like a hawk. He spotted one lane that was nearly empty. He floored the accelerator, the Hummer leaping forward.
A man stood in the toll booth, dressed entirely in black—black jacket, black gloves, and a black cap pulled low over his eyes. Dante threw the money at him, not waiting for change. The man took the cash silently and raised the barrier. As the Hummer blasted past, the toll worker didn't move. He stood perfectly still, watching the back of the car as it disappeared into the night.
Slowly, the man pulled his cap lower. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek, black smartphone. He dialed a number.
"They are heading to the hospital," the man said into the phone, his voice a raspy whisper. "The boy is down. Carlos is broken. It's time."
He ended the call and stepped out of the booth, fading into the shadows.
Dante drifted the Hummer into the hospital parking lot, the tires screaming as he came to a halt right in front of the Emergency entrance.
"EMERGENCY! I NEED HELP HERE!" Dante roared as he jumped out.
Hospital staff rushed out with stretchers. They moved with practiced speed, lifting Carlos's heavy frame first, then carefully sliding Ren onto a second bed. Dante watched as they disappeared behind the double doors of the trauma center.
Hours passed. Dante sat in the sterile, white hallway of the 5th floor, his head in his hands. The smell of disinfectant made his stomach turn. Finally, a nurse stepped out of Room 256. She looked tired.
"Are you with them?" she asked, pulling off her surgical mask.
Dante stood up instantly. "How are they?"
The nurse sighed. "The younger boy—Ren—is stable. He has suffered severe mental exhaustion and some cracked ribs. He needs a lot of rest, but he will recover soon. But the big man... Carlos... his condition is very serious. He has multiple fractures in his jaw and face. There is internal bleeding near the brain. We can't say anything final yet. We have to wait and see if he survives the night."
The nurse walked away, leaving Dante in a sea of guilt and anger. He leaned against the wall, staring at the floor.
"Not a very good report, is it, Dante?"
Dante froze. The voice was cold, like someone sliding a knife over ice. He looked up. Standing by the stairs was a man covered in black. A long coat, a dark cap, and a mask covering the lower half of his face.
Dante didn't move. He assumed it was just a random person or a relative of another patient. He turned his head back to the floor. "Go away. I'm not in the mood."
The man took a step closer, his boots silent on the tiles. "You should take me seriously, Dante. Because if you don't listen to what I'm about to say, neither of your friends will leave this hospital alive."
Dante's head snapped up. His eyes turned sharp. "Who are you? What do you want?"
"You're coming with me," the man said. "Right now."
"I'm not going anywhere," Dante hissed, stepping forward, his fists clenching.
The man smiled behind his mask. He put two fingers to his mouth and let out a sharp, piercing whistle.
Suddenly, the stairwell and the elevators burst open. Ten... fifteen men, all armed with silenced submachine guns, flooded the hallway. They surrounded Dante, their red laser sights dancing on his chest.
Dante looked around, his heart racing. "At least tell me what is going on here. Who sent you?"
"Stop talking and move," the leader said, gesturing toward the stairs.
Dante looked at the door of Room 256. He knew he couldn't fight fifteen armed men with his bare hands. He lowered his head and nodded. "Fine. Let's go."
As they reached the heavy steel doors of the stairwell, Dante spotted a hospital security guard standing near a vending machine. The guard looked confused, reaching for his radio.
Dante didn't wait. He didn't use his hands. He closed his eyes for a split second, and his mind expanded. He felt the guard's nervous system.
TWIST.
The guard's eyes went blank. He didn't call for help. Instead, he drew his service pistol, turned toward the men in black, and began firing rapidly.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The hallway turned into a war zone. Two of the kidnappers fell instantly, bullets hitting their chests. The other men panicked, spinning around and returning fire. The guard was hit multiple times, his body jerking as bullets ripped through him.
Dante felt the snap in his mind as the guard died, and he was pulled back into his own body. The leader of the group was screaming, his face red with fury.
"WHO DID THAT? WHO CONTROLLED HIM?" the leader yelled, looking at his dead men. He turned to Dante, grabbing him by the collar. "Someone here knows the Twist. If that was you, Dante, I will kill you slowly. But first... I will walk into that room and shoot your friends in their beds."
Dante stared at him, his expression unreadable. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Liar," the leader spat. "Get him to the car. Now!"
They dragged Dante down the stairs and threw him into the back of a black SUV. The leader sat next to him, a gun pressed against Dante's ribs.
"Follow us!" the leader barked into his radio. Two more SUVs pulled up behind them.
As they sped away from the hospital, the leader looked out the window and noticed something. Three dark sedans were tailing them. They weren't police. They were moving with aggressive precision.
"Black Stiff," Dante whispered, a small smirk on his face. "Looks like you aren't the only ones who want me."
"Shut up!" the leader yelled. "Open fire!"
The back windows of the SUVs shattered as the men in black leaned out with their guns. The Black Stiff cars responded. The highway became a scene of absolute chaos. Bullets sparked off the asphalt, and tires screamed as the cars swerved between civilian vehicles.
Suddenly, two more SUVs appeared from a side road, joining the leader's convoy. It was a full-scale car battle. Dante sat in the middle of it all, watching silently. He didn't help. He just watched the moves, the trajectories, the deaths.
One Black Stiff car flipped over, exploding in a ball of fire that lit up the night sky. The leader's car was riddled with holes, but they kept moving.
"They won't stop!" the leader screamed as a bullet grazed his shoulder.
They reached a massive bridge over a dried-up river. The leader's driver saw a narrow maintenance path leading underneath the bridge, hidden by thick concrete pillars and shadows.
"There! Turn now!"
The SUV drifted violently, sliding into the darkness beneath the bridge. The Black Stiff cars roared past on the highway above, unaware that their prey had vanished into the belly of the city.
The engine cut off. The only sound was the ticking of the cooling metal and the heavy breathing of the survivors.
The leader turned to Dante, blood dripping from his arm. He pressed the hot barrel of his gun against Dante's forehead.
"Now," the man whispered. "You are going to tell me exactly how you did that in the hospital... or I'm going back there to finish the boy."
Dante looked into the man's eyes, his own eyes empty and dark. "You made a mistake bringing me here alone."
[TO BE CONTINUED...]