The Perfect Run

No matter how many times he would visit it, Ryan would never get used to Rust Town. The whole place reeked of misery and despair.

Atom Cat seemed to share his sentiment, as both drove through the slums with the Plymouth's windows closed and the air cleaner on. “It’s even worse than I thought,” he said, looking at a streetlight hanging by its cable, threatening to fall on the road at any moment. “Way worse.”

“You never went mice hunting here?”

“No, my family lives in the wealthy Patrician district. I lived a very sheltered life truth be told, even during the wars.”

“So a house cat then.” If so, Ryan’s threat of neutering him must have hit a bit too close to home.

“I guess I went stray,” his sidekick mused.

“I do wonder why this place is such a dump compared to the rest of the city though,” Ryan said. It reminded him of the bad old days when he scoured ruins for supplies, with Bloodstream breathing down his neck.

“It belonged to the region’s original inhabitants,” Atom Cat explained, “those who lived in the Gulf of Naples and escaped its bombing. They managed to survive, in spite of the poisons and plagues, but when Dynamis took over the region, the company forcefully relocated them to make room for its own people. I guess the homeless and the diseased didn’t fit into their picture of a shining capital city. There are plans to renovate the area, but they haven't materialized yet.”

He shook his head in disappointment, the sound of a cell phone’s alarm interrupting the discussion. Atom Cat looked at his mobile, but didn’t take the call.

Ryan glanced at the screen, seeing Atom Cat had missed fifteen calls from a certain ‘Fortuna’ and seven from one ‘Narcinia.’ “My sisters,” the superhero said before the courier could ask questions. “I keep in touch with them, but they want me back and don’t take no for an answer.”

“That means they love you,” Ryan replied without any hint of sarcasm. He could sympathize with people wishing to reunite with their family. The courier did wonder what made Atom Cat consider Dynamis to be a better option over the Augusti though.

Ryan suddenly wondered if Len, like Atom Cat, wouldn’t want to meet him, but immediately brushed off these thoughts. Of course she would rejoice when they met again, after so many years! It was just his anxiety talking!

“I love them too, but as long as they keep supporting the Bliss business I—”

Another person called Atom Cat, who stared at the name on the screen for several seconds, his gaze undecipherable.

‘Livia.’

Instead of ignoring the call like the others, Atom Cat outright turned down his phone, sighed, and messed with the radio to change his mind. When he finally settled on a channel, Ryan glared at his sidekick. “Hip hop, really?”

“You don’t like it, brotha?”

“No, I don’t!” Ryan changed the channel back to the Daft Biopunk chronoradio. The music switched into a combination of electronic, synth, and alien rhythms.

“Nice sound,” Atom Cat commented, as they passed through narrow streets. “Where are we going?”

“The Meta took over the junkyard area as their base,” Ryan said. “It’s located at Rust Town’s center.”

“I’m stopping you right here, I’m all for ambushing a lone Psycho, maybe two, but attacking their home turf with only the two of us is suicide.”

If Ryan had been alone, he would have tried anyway, but he wasn’t going to lead his sidekick to certain death. “Thing is, children have been missing in the area, according to my information. I've located an orphanage south of the junkyard, and I thought we should check it out.”

Cat instantly tensed.

love to say he was,

it didn’t get reported,” the superhero replied, the Plymouth passing near the city’s water reservoir. Unlike the rest of the neighborhood, Dynamis heavily protected the area,

Ryan did.

half the windows were broken. A large fenced area extended left of the building, housing dozens, if not hundreds of stray cats and dogs. The

put them on. The air here was

glancing at the animals with sympathy. The sheer aura of trapped desperation they

children between ten and twelve at the orphanage’s entrance, playing with a dirty golden retriever near the open doors. One was a black boy

fellas!” Ryan waved a hand at

at his head, having hidden it beneath her dress, while the boy

that was so

it with a rock pebble. When time resumed, he had put the gun inside his

thumb like in a commercial. “I’m immortal,

Quickie,” Atom Cat replied, the nickname making Ryan feel dirty inside. “We aren’t here to hurt anyone. Can we talk to the

boy said, still afraid. The dog nuzzled his face to reassure him, and didn’t make any hostile move towards

he’s gone now,” the little girl replied while

it so casually, it sounded

heard, the more Atom Cat grew agitated. “But, how

with a

up food and money every week—” The little girl kicked the boy in the

asked. The little girl kept her mouth closed, the other boy imitating her.

ignored Atom Cat and instead kept glaring at Ryan. “Give

replied, having a reputation to uphold. “Let me buy you a

him, before trying to build a rapport with the kids. “Who is this mama,

Sarah replied stubbornly.

“Busy doing what?”

Sarah replied, crossing her arms.

that they only wanted to protect them, Ryan sensed tension in the air. The

sense

from the entrance. Other kids appeared

barely counted as such. Ryan instantly recognized one of them as the mosquito monster that wrecked his Plymouth in a previous loop. The second was a scrawny, bald man dressed like a plumber; disfiguring tumors grew out of his flesh and bloodshot eyes. He carried a rusty pipe wrench, and his smile showed rows of

As for the third...

the tall and slender figure, in spite of his heavy black overcoat, hat, scarf, and sunglasses. The way he walked, like a shambling doll mimicking

Psyshock, Adam’s second-in-command.

the kids; so did the golden retriever, who barked at the newcomers with surprising ferocity. Psyshock himself

isn’t it little Cesare?” he said with

Ryan flinched.

can recognize its unique brainwave pattern anywhere. Like a lost signal, calling home to Daddy.” His heavy sunglasses glittered under the twilight. “I

courier said, cold and focused. He had last crossed path with that creep four years ago, before he drank

threatening. Mosquito readied his claw-like hands, itching for a fight. “If you survived, I assume little Len did too. Good. I never got over missing

for you?”