Carnage! Love & Lust in the Wasteland
ROUND ONE (Dynasty vs. Hayao)
**HOOOLD ON THERE, SPORTS FAN!**
Did you miss the last match in your excitement for this one? To avoid spoilers, make sure you’ve read the first match of Round One: Peacekeepers vs. Soviets
“Mei, wait!” Izzy hissed, hot on her heels as she charged toward their garage. Mei had spent the day hunting down her dear brother, who had evaded her most deftly and only caused the steam in her head to build in pressure. Now, she was ready to burst.
“No, I will not wait. I’m going to fucking kill him.” Izzy looked worried as she streaked along behind her, people dashing from their path.
She still couldn’t believe the claims Dan had made, both publicly and on galactic broadcast! Hawk hadn’t broken in, not technically, and he certainly hadn’t assaulted her. Her anger was enough that she had not only missed the Carnage matches that afternoon, but had been robbed of the chance to watch the side events. The kids Hornet races were a particular favourite of hers, but the missed matches had been crucial for planning strategies and she had only caught the highlights.
In the second match, Buccaneers vs. Freaks, the pirating style of the Buc’s had fared well in the Mudhole, delighting the crowd as their prows sent waves of greasy mud cascading off them like ships on the sea, but they had ultimately been defeated by the Freaks. The muscle car maniacs had come ready with studded fat tires, their grip excellent in the mud. The sand pirates had mainly counted on their broadside attacks, trying to keep the Freaks on their flanks to unleash caltrop shots, gunfire, and actual cannonballs, but Freaks were too maneuverable. They’d pincered each Buc from the front or rear, not leaving a single mudfaring sailor alive, man or machine.
And so they go on to face the Menace, Monster Mass, and the Shithawk, she thought, if the Peacekeeper team can get this all sorted out. Dan’s little quip had quickly become Hawk’s new moniker, their confrontation on replay between all the minor events and causing huge discourse between the fans. Between the bounty placed on him by his own father, his tabloid romance with Mei, being one of the Menace’s proteges, his mad dash through the machine gun gauntlet in his first match, and the confrontation between him and Dan, Hawk had quickly become a fan favourite. She suspected his popularity was the only reason there had been no formal announcement for the Peacekeeper team’s disqualification yet.
People had swiftly forgotten the Freaks vs. Buccaneers match when the Scavengers had taken the field. Their match against the Firebugs had been a bloody one. Designated as a Flag Tag match, the Scavs had taken it upon themselves to give up on the primary objective immediately and win the match with bullets instead of brains. Sammy’s sandrail had spent more time drifting than driving, a fearless bitch whose manic glee was lit up with flashes of rapid gunfire anytime she was shown on the screen. Gregor was no less lustful for blood, using his Baja Bug like a spiny wrecking ball, ping-ponging and sometimes rolling over opponents, shredding them with his vicious spikes. But the Ranchero, equipped with that high calibre turreted minigun was the worst; not just for the firepower, but for the driver. Rosa was as deadly as she was beautiful. Not only was she an ace shot with the turret but she was unafraid to keep a box of nitroglycerin Molotovs in her cab, which she lit herself before hucking them out the windows, all while holding the wheel with her knees. She could take a hit and doll them out, even ramming the Baja to the detriment of her own vehicle, just to send it into a tumble that would crush anything in its path. During their victory celebration, both she and Sammy had taken their tops off for the roaring crowd, tits bouncing as Gregor sprayed champagne over them. Tacky, to say the least, but effective in gaining popularity. It made Mei want to vomit each time it was replayed. Which was a lot.
I should have seen it live but for all this bullshit, she thought, booting in the door to their garage. She had finally tracked her brother back here, where it was said he was taking a meeting with Otis Grange. Izzy gave an apologetic look to the staff, who had flinched back at Mei’s anger. She didn’t care. She pulled up short at the office door, finding it locked, and hammered on the wood.
“Dan! Open the goddamn door, now!”
“Mei, we’re going to be late,” Izzy said at her shoulder. Mei ignored her.
“Dan!” she screamed, pounding again. On the third strike, the door opened and Mei wobbled back, nearly striking Otis Grange in the chest.
“Miss Sung,” the graying Peacekeeper said, standing aside and allowing Mei to enter. It was a simple office: brushed steel walls, an aluminum desk, a few chairs, one of which Grange’s coat was draped over. Dan sat at the desk, lips curled back in a glorious snarl over his bruised chin.
“Mei! Get on your fucking bike—”
“Let Hawk out,” Mei cut in. “You know the charges against him are bullshit, so put your pride aside and stop fucking around with my PTQ.”
“Mei!” Dan said, rising.
“Hawk is innocent,” Mei stated, planting her feet and crossing her arms over her chest. She and Dan held one another at a standstill until Grange cleared his throat, drawing both sets of angry eyes.
“What your brother did was well within his rights,” Grange said. Seeing him under the harsh florescent lights, the Peacekeeper looked exhausted, his drawn face seeming to want to drag him further into a slouch. “Whatever transpired, it was entirely inappropriate for Hawk to be at Sung Compound in the first place. Rules are rules and I have already agreed to accept whatever punishment the committee sees fit.”
“But you can’t!” Mei said, stamping her foot.
“Mei!” Dan shouted. When he spoke again, it was in brusque Mandarin. “I have secured an easy win—” Mei was across the room, fist driven into his throat before he could finish that sentiment.
“You fucking cheat,” she spat as he gasped for breath, clutching at his windpipe. “Hawk was right, you are a fucking coward! Is that what this is? You’re fucking intimidated by him?”
“You— dare—” Dan gasped.
“That will be enough.” The soft command drew the room around, Izzy letting out a squeak as she saw Mei’s father in the doorway. He was dressed in a crisp black suit, his usual, but accented with rose gold at the clasps and buttons. His eyes had no mirth in them, just a hard cast as they swept over his children, before finally landing on Otis Grange.
“I have spent some time examining your claims, Dan,” Chairman Sung said, gaze lingering on the Peacekeeper still. “I have reviewed the Compound’s security footage and a decision has been made.” Dan shot Mei a vicious, gloating look and their father continued. “Though there have been rule violations, I do not think they were broken in malice. It is my opinion that this was misguided enjoyment of two young and fairly stupid people. Would you agree, Mr. Grange?”
“Not many stupider than Sid Hawkins, sir,” Grange grumbled.
“Then the Dynasty is willing to put the transgression aside in the interests of Carnage,” the Chairman concluded, Dan looking like a deflated balloon before steam began building behind his eyes a heartbeat later. As though sensing trouble, the Chairman quelled him with a look. “We will be lenient, this time. I will hear no more on the matter. As for Sid Hawkins, I have arranged that he spend the remainder of his night in the cells. He will be released an hour before his next match. Speaking of. Mei, Isabella, good luck.” With a nod to Grange, the Chairman turned on a heel and swept from the garage.
“That’s that then,” Grange said, matter-of-factly. “Best of luck, Sungs—”
Grange made a choking sound, pitching forward onto the floor, face-down and twitching slightly. Izzy, Mei, and Dan blinked down at him, his wheezing breaths filling the stunned silence.
“Medic!” Izzy screamed. “We need a medic here!”
There was a flurry of motion as medics swept into the room, shoving back the racers and rolling Otis Grange onto his back. He fought them, struggling to sit up while they pushed on his chest, face slowly turning blue.
“P-Piii,” the Peacekeeper wheezed, trembling hands reaching for his coat.
“Sir, we need you to lie back,” one of the medics said.
“Piiiiiillssss,” he groaned, beating his feet against the floor in an attempt to buck them off.
“Pills? Is he saying pills?” Mei said, frowning. His hand was still twitching toward his coat. “Pills!” She dove into the pocket and tore the cap off the bottle she found there, shoving the medics aside and dumping little white pills into Grange’s hand, capping the bottle again. He wrestled a few into his mouth, rolling onto his side and swallowing. He choked, spittle flying past his cracked lips, and then sucked in a huge breath before devolving into a coughing fit and spewing yellow phlegm on the floor as he came to all-fours.
“Thank you,” he gasped to Mei, then to the medics, “Get off me! I’m fine, for fuck sakes.”
Dan made Mei start as he took the pill bottle from her and looked down his nose at the label, then at Grange, who the medics were helping to his feet.
“I’ll have that, Phoenix,” Grange said, reaching out a hand for the medicine. Dan gave him a searching look and held the bottle out of reach.
“What’s wrong with you?” Dan prodded. Grange frowned.
“Recovering from an infection,” he dodged, breath heavy and his hand still outstretched, twitching his fingers for Dan to hand it over.
“What kind of infection?” Dan asked, still frowning at the Peacekeeper.
“The kind you need antibiotics for, kid,” Grange chuckled. “Give it here now, you’re going to be late.”
Mei glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh shit!” Mei said. “Dan, we have to—”
Dan cut her off. “Do the officials know you’re ill?”
“Dan, just give him the fucking pills!” Mei shouted. “We have to go!” The men ignored her, leering at one another.
“Had to pass a physical, just like you,” Grange said, voice taking on an edge.
Dan looked down at the label on the bottle. “From this Howard Wong?”
“The pills, kid. Now.”
Dan stared at him for the space of another heartbeat, then tossed over the medicine and swept past Mei into the garage. Grange glowered after him, jaw working furiously as he stowed the pills and shrugged into his coat. He caught Mei’s eye and softened slightly.
“Good luck, Miss Sung,” Grange said, and lopped out of the room, dragging his boots with every step. Mei followed him out and joined Dan, who was frowning at his tablet as it ran diagnostics on Izzy’s hatchback. His eyes flicked up and followed Grange as he left the garage.
“You think he’s lying?” Dan asked, voice low.
“Who cares if he is? Worry about the match, right?”
Dan scoffed, then his eyes bulged with forgotten rage. “You need to learn to keep your fucking nose out of things,” he sneered. “And what the hell are you wearing?”
Mei flashed him a mischievous grin, tugging the frayed edges of Hawk’s vest and giving a half-turn on the spot.
“A gentleman caller’s favour, don’t you like it?”
He didn’t.
Otis banged his head against the wall, taking a moment’s respite in a quiet service corridor. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grunted. Dan Sung wouldn’t let this lie and he cursed the timing of his little episode. Why now? he thought. Why can’t it just be when I’m alone, so I can shrivel up and die with a little dignity? He sighed.
At least he had a night off from Hawk’s bullshit.
Otis Grange’s shocking display fled Mei’s mind as she rumbled out under the glaring lights, the heat of the day still thick in the evening air, and thousands of blood-fueled, booze-addled fans roared for the final match of the day.
*HOLD - SCRAPS - LOW HAZARD*
The Scraps was a mess of twisted wrecks, dripping oil and other noxious fluids her nostrils with all the rotten smells of years of Carnage. It burned the sinuses, made her lip twist in disgust, and she adored it. The motorcycle rumbled beneath her as she took her mark for her match against Hayao Motors. The drones swooped, casting the image of their team, her team, rumbling ready in the Dynasty bunker. She revved the bike and a wave of admiration rolled over the crowd, and into her. She had made it.
“Carnage fans, what a day we have had, but the wait is finally over! The Dynasty Munitions Syndicate versus the Hayao Motors iiiiiiiin…. Capture the Hold!”
The drones pulled upward and the entirety of the Scraps course was laid out on the jumbotrons. Beyond a wall of shipping containers that made up their hold was the kill zone: heaps of wrecks formed narrow corridors from both sides of the arena with odd corners and jagged metal pressing down, all leading to a pit at the center full of barbed wire, cement barriers, tank stoppers, and narrow paths of wreckage. At the opposite end there was another wall of containers behind which the Hayao drivers sat. On the jumbotrons, none of their drivers came out from behind their blackened windows, the sleek low riders puffing quiet exhaust and at the ready.
“Rules are simple, folks. Capture the enemy’s hold for a total of ten continuous seconds, or the last team standing takes the match! For the Dynasty, in Carnage their debuts, please welcome Officer Rufus Teague, Isabella Villalobos, and Meeeeeei Sung!”
There was ravenous applause as the drones swept over each of their team, putting them up on the screens where they stood with their respective vehicles. Their stats placards and point values flashed next to them when the drones zoomed in and Mei tugged on the hems of Hawk’s leather vest to give the people a show, popping her foot and winking to the crowd. There was a wave of scandalous applause as the images of her and Hawk caught in an intimate embrace flashed across the screens.
“Ugh,” Dan said through their comms. Mei blew a raspberry back to him, waving to the crowd.
“And our straightlaced killers from the Hayao Motors team!” the announcer blared on, the drones buzzing across the field to pan over the no-nonsense Hayao drivers, each of which were stepping out of their vehicles to give a brief acknowledgement to the crowd. The once muted cars each had their hoods painted with different colours and a Japanese character so the audience could tell them apart on the course, the drivers wearing suits of body armour in matching colours. Mei focused on the untested Hayao Howl MC-Ultras themselves. The low riding compacts were all smooth angles, their bumpers barely more than a couple inches off the ground, their tires wide and jutting out at an angle.
“Welcome Hauru!” The drones panned over a man with swirling designs of royal blue and glossy white decorating his suit and vehicle. “Chihiro!” The next driver was a woman, but with her hair cut short like the men on her team. She was decorated in shades of violet slashed with ivory. “And Tatsuo!” Tatsuo had not waited for the drones and had already donned his helmet, his colours stark black and deep green. Their placards flashed over the screen as well, telling Mei their point values and detailing how each driver was riding with a gunner with a cache of weapons on board.
“And now, because I know you’re all sick of hearing me jabber on, so let’s get down to Carnage!”
“Stop watching the goddamn jumbotrons,” Dan crackled in her earpiece. He was sore from not getting his way regarding Hawk’s disqualification, and more so because Mei had refused to remove his vest.
“Fuck off,” Mei replied, as the starting drone dropped down, ancient traffic light swinging wildly. The red lamp lit up.
“Mei, you’re running point on this one,” Dan said, likely controlling one of the drones himself. “Some of the pathways are tighter than others, take the narrowest one you can. Use your speed and maneuverability to get behind them and take that hold. I will do my best to guide you away from trouble. Izzy, Teague, do whatever you need to do to keep them off her when you reach the pit. Once Mei is in the corridors again, one of you follows her in and covers her tail. Mei, take the tightest paths you can.”
“Copy,” the three of them said in unison. The yellow lamp turned on.
“In 3… 2… 1…”
The bike bucked, coming up on the back tire in a growl of unleashed fury. Mei pushed it back down as she tore out of their hold and into one of the corridors, weaving through the heaps of twisted metal piled high. Everything turned to a blur as she geared up.
“Mei, slow down!” Dan shouted. “You’re useless in the pit alone!”
She let off a little and heard the hum of Izzy’s engine on her six. The pair of them wove around another corner and brought pit into view, the scattered debris looking far larger than it had on the screens.
“Entering the pit!” Teague said over comms. In a huff of black smoke, the powerful little truck broke into the pit from the next pathway over. “Here they are!”
Across the scattering of hazards, the Hayao drivers piled into the pit, trailing one another from the same pathway and breaking up as the ground opened up before them. They drove with a precision that made Mei’s guts flutter. She twisted the throttle and shot off across the pit taking the most direct route she could, flashing past the burning wreck of an SUV and through a gap of blasted out concrete, closing fast on one of the opposite pathways.
This is going to be easier than I thought—
“Mei, on your right!” Dan cried.
High beams took her by surprise as she veered around an overturned tanker, blinding her as she looked to the right on Dan’s warning. Tatsuo’s engine revved with a screeching warcry, his tires squealing as he tore out of hiding and attempted to ram her from the side. Mei gunned the bike and kicked out of his way, the Hayao car swerving violently onto her tail. In her mirror, she saw the sunroof slide back and the gunner rose up with an assault rifle shouldered.
Gunfire rattled and Mei began to weave as bullets slammed around her, throwing sparks off rusted steel and peppering her with sharp pieces of broken concrete. She twisted the throttle and the bike flew forward, threatening to lose balance as she continued to writhe down the corridor of wrecks. She flinched when her side mirrors were blown out, swearing as another bullet ricocheted off her helmet. She grit her teeth in anger. They were playing with her for the crowd. She saw an opening coming in the wall of wrecks ahead, too narrow for the Hayao car, and wove far to the outside to take it.
“NO, NOT THAT WAY!” Dan shrieked in her ear, a moment too late.
The headlights of Hauru’s car blinded her as she veered around the tight corner, bearing down on her as the sides of his vehicle threw bright sparks where it dragged against the barbed wire barrier flanking him. Mei’s heart leapt into her throat and behind her, Tatsuo’s car screeched to a halt and the gunman opened fire again, a couple shots tearing at the edge of her suit. She was trapped and panic gripped her as she tore toward the enemy headlights. Then fire erupted in her belly as Hauru’s sunroof opened, his gunner just popping out when Mei jammed the button on handlebars and her own dual guns spun to life from the front of her bike, peppering the oncoming car with a brief spray. She howled as she gunned the bike and the front tire leapt off the ground, the Hayao gunner flailing as a shower of hot lead ripped through him, then slumping over the roof in a bloody limp mass. Mei was screaming as she kept her front tire in the air, mounting the hood of the oncoming vehicle and crunching over the dark windshield, launching off and over, and wobbling as she hit the ground on its other side.
She was huffing short breaths in as she tore away from the pair who had tried to trap her, the crowd exploding all around her.
“An incredible death dodge by rookie sensation, Mei Sung!”
“Holy shit, Mei!” Izzy cried in her ear. As Mei veered back into the killzone, she saw the little hatchback weave onto her flank, dodging a tank stopper as they left the Hayao pair to figure a way out of the tight corridors. “That was amazing!”
“Focus!” Dan growled. “Hauru is reversing back out and Tatsuo is already out of that narrow gap. And— Holy shit!”
There was an explosion off to Mei’s side, perilously close, and she nearly lost control as she whipped around to watch the mushroom of flame rising.
Teague’s dozer blade had crushed one of the Hayao cars against a tank stopper, the tires still spinning and fire pouring out of the windows, yet somehow the driver was still trying to free the vehicle despite the sharp I-beam that had punched through one of the doors and out through the chassis. The crowd roared its approval as Teague backed up and rammed the car again, its engine dying and another rogue explosive in the cabin going off to put a quick end to Chihiro.
“Nice one!” Mei cried, Teague blowing a train whistle in response as he wrenched free, puffing smoke as he drove away from the carnage. She and Izzy whipped off the opposite way, watching for the lurking Hayao team as they raced for the corridors to take their fort.
“Do you have eyes on them, Dan?” Izzy said through comms. “They’ve abandoned us out here—”
The crowd erupted, the announcer screaming over the loudspeaker.
“Hayao driver Tatsuo closes in on the Dynasty hold! Slipping behind their defenses while they weren’t looking!”
Mei gasped, grinding her bike to a halt to see the footage of the black and green low rider whipping down a wide corridor toward their hold and away from the pit. The gunner was looking out the sunroof again and periodically firing a goddamned rocket launcher at the wrecks that made up the corridor, scattering the path behind them with impassable debris. Her heart sank. Hayao was going to take their hold in moments.
“WHY. ARE. YOU. STOPPED?!” Dan screamed in her ear, drawing her from her shock as Izzy’s hatchback drifted around a tank stopper to head back toward their hold. “Izzy and Teague, stop that fucker. Mei, get their hold before they take ours! Hauru is guarding it so you’ll need to weasel in. Go!”
Mei brought the bike up to a reckless speed, wincing as she caught her arm on a jagged piece of sheet metal jutting out from the wall of wrecks, flying toward the Hayao fort and breathing hard. She wove and dodged more debris, watching every corner for the sign of Hauru’s headlights, unable to shake the feeling that she was driving into another trap. The road forked ahead, but she saw the looming wall of sea-cans that was the Hayao fort ahead. She scanned each roadway on approach, hating herself for hesitating, and then veered right, taking what looked to be the shorter loop around. Her spirits soared. The entrance to the Hayao fort was just ahead.
The grenade struck just in front of her bike and the explosion sent Mei flying over the handlebars to crash like a ragdoll into a cement barricade. The air burst from her lungs as she struck it, her brain rattling around in her helmet as she crumpled to the ground and felt like every bone in her body shattered. Her ears rang from the explosion and she could hear nothing but that incessant whine while Hauru’s headlights flared into life from a hidden alcove, the gunner leveling a grenade launcher toward where she lay. She blinked, and as though in slow motion there was a flash while the projectile left the barrel, spinning through the air toward her. She screamed as it struck the wall above her, feeling the heat as the shockwave pressed her down again, showering her with shards of cement as the Hayao gunner took aim again.
Mei rolled as the gunner loaded another grenade, clumsy hands freeing her sidearm from its leg holster, and she leveled the pistol as the grenade launcher came up. The two weapons flashed at the same time and Mei’s bullet struck home, the launching grenade exploding and taking the gunner’s head and torso with it.
The world sped up again as the ruined corpse flopped over the dark windshield, spidered from the explosion and the body falling on it, and blood stained the glossy white sigils on Hauru’s hood. The crowd was relentless in their ecstasy.
“Dear sweet god!” the announcer cried “Never in all my years of Carnage— Let’s get a replay of that! Let’s—”
His voice was lost as the Hayao car’s tires squealed and the vehicle shot toward her, intent to flatten her against the barricade.
Mei rolled, the miss so narrow that she saw the tires crunching inches from her head when she moved, and the low rider’s back end bucked up as struck the barricade, front end collapsing in like an accordion and the engine dying with a guttural groan of smoke and a burp of flames. Her breath was shallow as she climbed to her feet, everything hurting, and she blinked at the ruined car.
The window ground down suddenly and Mei swore, diving out of the way as a submachine gun jutted out. She saw the driver’s bloody face for only a moment, the mania in his eyes, and she rolled behind the wrecked car as he opened fire on her in a wild spray of bullets, kicking out his door to exit the wreck when she was out of range.
Mei crawled around the car, fear making her every breath feel like knives shredding down her throat. She could hear his crunching steps, staggered and limping, the slap of a new magazine into his gun. She was on the other side of the car now, leaning back against the rear tire of his wreck, shaking and hurt and seemingly unable to take a full breath no matter how hard she tried. She blinked at the gun in her hand, had forgotten all about it, and heard him curse in Japanese as he tripped.
And then she saw her bike.
Feet away, the motorcycle had lost the rubber of its twisted front tire but didn’t look much worse for wear besides that. Mei dove toward it, adrenaline surging to drive the pain from her limbs as she forced it back onto its wheels, turned the key, and the engine groaned into clunking life just as the Hayao driver raised his torso over the back of his car and trained the submachine gun on her. Mei screamed as she kicked into gear, the bike coming up on the back tire as she drove it with as much fury as it could muster, veering toward the gap between the wreck and the road beyond, bullets punching into its belly and making the engine shriek. She whipped past Hauru, his face set in an ugly snarl, raised her pistol, and put a bullet between his eyes.
Steam, smoke, and all her fluids were leaking as the bike limped, one-wheeled, into Hayao’s bunker. It died and fell backward onto Mei as she slid to a halt. She lay there for a moment, realized she was in the bunker, and barked a laugh. As though that tiny outburst triggered it, the adrenaline failed her and every hurt she’d accumulated screamed as wrestled the weight off of the bike off herself. She yanked off her helmet, suddenly stifling, and noise began to trickle in through the shock and quiet of the Hayao fort. Mei winced to her feet, mouth dry and dumbstruck.
I almost died, she thought. That was almost it…
Then another voice spoke in her mind, stronger and more determined.
But you didn’t.
“And Dynasty daughter Mei Sung is in the Hayao bunker— On foot, but there no less! Ladies and gentlemen, never in my years of Carnage have I seen such a spectacle! Two absolutely stunning trap evasions from the dastardly, bastardly, grenastardly Hauru! With the last car of team Hayao wrestling with Teague, there seems to be little hope for them now! Start the countdown!”
Heart in her throat, Mei shifted to see the jumbotrons. Some were lit up with feeds of her, face streaked with sweat and deathly pale, her suit smeared with soot and dirt with blood trickling through the various rips, while others showed a ticking countdown as she had captured the enemy hold. On the opposite screen she saw Teague’s dozer blade locked in a head-to-head battle with the slowly crumpling front end of Tatsuo’s car. On yet another, Izzy’s hatchback had its entire driver side rear blown off down to the diff, presumably by the rocket launcher, but the Izzy herself was rattling off gunfire at the offending Hayao vehicle.
She began to chuckle through the shock, which grew rapidly into nervous laughter than made her abdomen ache terribly. The crowd was getting louder with each passing second that ticked by, chanting in thousands of voices along with the timer.
“5… 4… 3… 2… 1!”
The horn blared, drowning out thought and sound, Carnage and crowd. Mei was lost in it as she stepped out of the Hayao bunker and raised her arms to the admiration. It did not take long for the flashing lights of the paramedics to come for her, people shoving forward toward her, pushing off medic and lifting her onto their shoulders, wincing from the pain but absolutely ecstatic. They brought her into the glaring lights, the crowd on its feet and reckless with their celebration. She saw it was Izzy and Teague carrying her, saw Dan’s face on the jumbotron with his arms raised and near frothing at the mouth with jubilation. Mei’s face ached from smiling and a drone swooped to bring her image onto the screen, spattered with grease, dirt, and blood. She looked insane, absolutely unhinged, and she blew them all a kiss before snarling into the camera, losing herself to the growing chant.
“Mei Sung! Mei Sung! Mei Sung!”
What a ride, sports fans! Are you ready for ROUND TWO: Peacekeepers vs. Freaks?