RED LIGHT [finished]

Before the first explosion, Rebecca felt every nerve in her body prickle and tingle. She clenched her hands as she realized something here was not quite right, but before she could do anything she heard that great and terrible sound. It was as though lightning had suddenly touched the ground. The pavement trembled beneath her feet as the cars waiting at the cross-section burst into flames. The impact of the explosion sent one car in particular hurtling towards her and the person she had nearly run over.

Rebecca's voice was caught in a half-scream and a half-gasp as the car fell upon them before she could pull them out of the way. She clasped a hand over her mouth to prevent herself from screaming, her teeth biting into the palm of her hand so hard a trickle of blood had begun to stream down her wrist. As she pulled her hand away, another figure appeared before her. As the car bloomed with flames, the man in black pierced through the heat and light with a pair of spears that parted and extinguished the fire. But what Rebecca had noticed – more then the fact he had just prevented an explosion – was that he had the mark of the Quincy on his arm.

She took a sharp intake of breath as he told her to hide in a nearby building. Suddenly her fear was replaced by something much stronger: rage... and instinct. She narrowed her eyes on the Quincy, then bent down to examine the person who had been trapped under the vehicle. ”You alive, hon?” Rebecca saw movement beneath the car and found that answer enough. She got up, took several steps back, and summoned reishi into her hands to form her bow.

”Duck your head.”

Rebecca released her arrow into the car, knocking it clear off the person it had crushed and rolling it several feet into the raging fire that had begun to engulf the street. Her plan was to get the civilian to safety, perform emergency first aid, and then find the other Quincy. Defected or not, whatever he had been fighting had just blown up a part of her city that she now called home. Rebecca's bow faded away as she hurried over to what she believed was a civilian curled up on the ground.

Rebecca grimaced as she saw the hunk of meat that was once the man's arm. She shrugged off her leather jacket, planning to use it as a tourniquet, when the glow of the Quincy bangle around the man's neck caught her eye. As the man's arm began to regenerate, Rebecca only had one thought going through her head: F*ck my life.

She stood up and backed away from the guy, not knowing how friendly he was going to be after surviving being crushed by a two-ton vehicle. Rebecca gripped the handle of her motorcycle and was about to mount it when the stranger stood up and began questioning her. Her eyes widened as she heard the name Wolfgang, a name she had become all too familiar with in the past few months.

Suddenly her eyes lingered past the man and into the fire. She didn't know which side this man was on, but either way she had to make herself as detached as possible. In other words, she needed to lie. ”Look, I'm no one you need to worry about, all right?” At least that was partly true. ”The other guy headed into the fire. I'm a resident just passing through.” Her fingers twitched, aching for her to aim an arrow at this guy to blast him out of her way. But she couldn't do that.

Not yet, anyway.

Suddenly the sound of sirens cut through the night air. Rebecca glanced at the sky and then back at the other Quincy, who was now advancing toward her. She revved her engine threateningly, which for her was the closest to a 'please' she was willing to give.

Then the man cut right to the chase and called her a liar. Rebecca sighed, clearly aggravated, and for a brief moment considered running him over right then and there. As he put his boot on her motorcycle, her first instinct was to punch him in the face. Her hands shook as she kept them tight on the handlebars.

“...I'm an Echt Quincy,” she said, looking him right in the eyes so that he knew she wasn't shitting him. ”And I want to live, thank you very much.” Then she revved her engine again. ”Now get your f*cking dirty boot off my bike before you find your sorry ass underneath another set of wheels.”

And that, of course, was the truth.

As her bike crumpled beneath her, Rebecca released a string of swears that would make a sailor blush. Once she thought she was coherent, she tried to speak to the man she was certain she was about to kill. Most likely with her bare hands.

”YOU... HOW...YOU MOTHER-F*CKING...F*CK!” Rebecca dismounted the ruins of her bike and gave it a fierce kick away from her, then tossed her helmet away. She ran her fingers through her hair as she tried not to snap. She was strong, but this asshole did just regenerate a ligament and put his foot through her bike. He was right: she could put up a fight, but it probably wouldn't help her any.

”Fine,” she said through gritted teeth, then snatched the offered smoke from him. Her hands were slightly shaking as she brought it to her lips.

“But wherever we're going better have something stronger then this.”