The two cars slammed into each other, locked in a deadly dance of screeching metal as Tim fought to break away from the rogue pursuit. Tyson clung to the roof with all his strength. "Fuck!"
He needed one chance to stop the truck ahead. But three rogue vehicles flanked them tightly, boxing them in. Some of the rogues had already climbed onto their own car roofs, armored up, and ready to fire.
Plasma shots sparked across the highway as chaos erupted around them.
"Ahhh, hold on!" Tim yelled, swerving the car like a drifting serpent. His tires screeched against the pavement—and suddenly, the truck was within reach.
One of the rogues raised his blaster, aiming directly at Tyson.
Tyson's eyes locked onto the truck, calculating the leap he had to make.
"This is it!" Tim roared. "Get the hell off my car!"
A blast sizzled past them—narrowly missing—as Tyson launched himself into the air. His meta-bot responded instantly, enveloping him in his sleek white armor mid-jump.
