Maxima!!

TRACK 14: FIGHTING GIRL

Rosie swished her head back and forth. How many would-be soldiers had shown up? She didn't dare count; the fact that they clogged every road said enough. The army of thugs brought an arsenal pulled from the frames of countless sci-fi movies, whether they cradled them in their arms or gripped the handles of mounted guns. For once she thought herself lucky, since none shot at her. The feeling didn't last; as she crouched there, and swiveled and shimmied to scan her assailants, she nearly had a panic attack.

She'd put the hospital behind her. But if a brawl broke out -- when it broke out -- she couldn't guarantee it would stay out of the crossfire.

"Listen up," Chase said as he ducked back inside the car. "I know what you're thinking: if these guys aren't careful, they could hurt somebody."

Rosie glanced at the car, but didn't say a word. Partly because she couldn't; her breathing steadily ramped up, while her limbs shivered. Calm down, she thought. Calm down. Gotta stay calm.

"Let them run wild, and they'll wreck this hospital. Let them run free, and they'll wreck whatever they want. You'll have to fight back. Playing pacifist? Not an option."

I know. I know, but --! Rosie felt her muscles seize up, and her stomach churned. If I fight, they might get hurt! And how much damage will I do?

"Lives are on the line. Yours, theirs, and mine. What's it gonna be?"

Rosie almost hugged herself, but remembered in the nick of time that she had passengers to cradle. Stay calm. Don't worry. Don't think about it! If you keep this up, then --!

But by then, she realized it far too late. She ballooned to three fifty.

Then three fifty-one. Fifty-two. Fifty-three.

The thugs brave enough to stand on solid ground backed up. Half of them slid well away and let their barrels sag; the other half almost sniped at her skull. Rosie saw it all happen in real time -- and despite it, she forced every cell in her body to reach some feeble form of equilibrium. The growth stopped, but not before she reached three sixty.

"She just got even bigger?" one of the thugs squealed. He aimed at Rosie's eye. "We've gotta end this before --!"

"Hold your fire! Hold your fire, all of you!"

Not one shot made it out, thanks to one green-haired punk. "We may have firepower," Grim said as he stepped past the frontlines. "But we'd better make damn sure we do this right."

Rosie's breathing returned to normal, however reluctantly. "What're y'all doin'?" she asked. "Can't ya see how much harm you'll do?"

Grim looked to his left. Looked to his right. Looked back at Rosie. "Yeah. That's the plan."

"But why --?"

"We're not like you." Grim gave his palm a hard stare. "No matter how much we pretend, we're only humans scraping up whatever power we can get. And thanks to some hard-to-refuse offers, we've almost closed the gap with you." He waved toward the towering buildings near and far. "More CHAOS, more power. More power, more hope."

"Hope?"

"Hope we'll survive you."

Rosie stared at Grim. Mohawk or otherwise, he didn't even stand as tall as her finger. She had forced her shivers to a halt; he let plenty of them slip through the cracks, while his body stayed rigid and his teeth clenched tight whenever he stopped speaking.

"Let's make this simple." Grim reached for her. "Your passengers stole some merchandise from us. Hand them over, and maybe we can end this without a fight."