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A Worse Idea 16

Prometheus turned on his jet boots for just a second. They propelled him through the driver-side window, leading him to slam into the passenger-side door. He felt the door give way slightly, but it stayed closed.

The hitman didn’t have his eyes on the road, but still he drove in a perfectly straight line. Prometheus smiled. If the hitman was actually a robot, there was no need to hold back.

“Burn baby burn.” Prometheus planted his foot on the hitman’s cheek. “Disco inferno.” Flames shot out of the boot, setting the robot’s fake skin aflame.

The car didn’t veer off the road.

This robot, it seemed, was very determined to get at Katie. Prometheus made a mental note to figure out why. He turned off the flames from his jet boot, then pulled the leg back. He slammed his foot into the hitman’s head. Again, the hitman barely budged.

The hitman’s head was on fire. His fake skin was melting, congealing on the metal underneath it. And yet he was able to keep the car driving in a straight line. One hand on the steering wheel, he used his other hand to grab Prometheus’s foot.

“Shit,” Prometheus muttered.

The hitman pushed against Prometheus’s foot, pushing him into the car door. The car door broke, which left Prometheus tumbling onto the highway.

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