“Moron.” PK growls as he drops a coughing man onto the ground, smoke and ash clinging to his jacket.

  He turns back to the raging inferno that said moron started by trying to blow PK up, and he focuses his hearing onto it, wincing. Something that seems to not get addressed in popular media, is that fire is loud. PK’s borderline, if not just, supernatural hearing still is able to cut through it however, and PK leaps back toward the building.

  He smashes through the window of the ramshackle house, hollowed out to be only one central area, and then transforms into his T.rex, chomping down onto a piece of ceiling that’s falling towards the lone man.

  He pulverizes the chunk to little more than dust, then flicks his tail towards the wall, blowing a hole in it. He spits drywall and ash before turning back to human and helping the older Hispanic man up and propping him up and his shoulder, leading him out of harm's way.

  “Gracias, gracias.” The old man pats PK’s arm as several waiting cookers surround him and look him over.

  He scans over the crowd speaking Spanish, seeing if his “life sense,” whatever he decides to call it, can pick up if anyone's in danger. So far, it doesn’t seem to work like that, so he clears his throat.

  “Ha-habla inglés?” He tries, regretting never getting Jane’s mom to teach him Spanish before she left.

  “I speak English.” A younger woman approaches him, maybe mid-twenties.

  “Get everyone to a hospital, tell them you've all inhaled a lot of smoke."

  "We can't, most of us aren't here legally." The woman looks at the ground.

  The one in El Cajon near the Albertson’s doesn’t ask a lot of questions. Can you get there on your own?”

  She nods, “I grabbed the keys to the truck that brought us over here before you saved me.”

  “Good, you’re in charge ok? Get everyone there.” PK winks, then realizes she can’t see it through his helmet and clears his throat. “Alright, I have to go, be safe.” He goes to leave, but then the woman grabs his sleeve.

  “What... what are you?”

  “The world’s first real superhero, Prehistoric Kid.” He puts up a peace sign, then leaps into the air.

  PK lands from his jump and looks to the sun as it begins to peak over the rocky hills of Alpine, illuminating the yellow and brown brush of the summer. He needs to get home and soon if he doesn’t want to risk anyone checking his room, time to test just how fast he can run.

  He takes a step and transforms into a Gallimimus, essentially an enormous ostrich, and takes off. Twenty feet of ancient might burst through the sound barrier, a sonic boom taking PK off guard and vibrating his skull. He trips and starts to skid across the ground, sending up a plume of dirt, grass, and orange cream colored feathers.

  PK hits a rock and sends him into the air and he’s able to twist his body to make sure he lands feet first. As he heels dig int the ground he readies himself, and then kicks off, breaking the sound barrier again. This time he’s ready for it, and the boom washes over him as he reaches the remains of one of the other meth labs he hit in the night, plowing through a remaining wall.

  He had cut a swath through the labs on his map, taking out twelve in total, but adding eight more by questioning those who were over seeing each operation. Robert produces a lot more than PK had expected, and his operations size similarly is more far reaching. Still, it's a good start, and PK imagines he can have most of the labs dismantled in a month if he’s able to keep up this pace.

  Turns out, running faster than sound is very fast, and before Tim knows it he needs to slow down as he hits populated areas. Transitioning into smaller forms to go across houses and catch rides on cars, he reaches home as the sun finishes its climb into the sky.

  He goes small to go through his window and transforms over his bed, landing with a thud and knocking over the stacks of stuffed animals. He quickly strips out of his costume and stuffs it under said stack, and places his oldest toy, a stuffed blue bunny name of Bunny, on top as the guard.

  He yawns, as he gets comfortable, feeling genuine fatigue for the first time since he got his powers. The exhaustion almost feels nice as it takes him, his vision beginning to fade and his eyelids growing heavy despite his super strength.

  EEEE EEEE EEEE.

  “Noooo!” He yells over his alarm clock as he remembers it's Monday.

  He drags himself out of bed and onto the ground before lifting himself up into a handstand, then flipping to his feet. He runs both hands down his face and tunes his hearing onto the two bathrooms in the hall, checking if they’re occupied. Neither are so he sluggishly collects his clothes and heads into the shower.

  It does nothing to revitalize him, and he considers trying to claim to be sick to stay home, but that might look suspicious. Unless he’s very sick he’s never been allowed to play hooky anyways, partially because school means two free meals, partially because he’s the only member of his family that’s ever given a damn about school. Credit where credit’s due, making him go to school no matter what is something he actually appreciates about his mother now.

  Still, as he hears neither her nor Delilah is home, the temptation to just go back to bed strengthens, but hunger for a big breakfast keeps him walking to the kitchen rather than his dedication to school.

  As he cracks open eggs onto a pan the front door opens and Jane’s familiar scent cuts through the usual smog of the living room, though its joined by sweet smelling perfume.

  “Hey.” She says as she sits at the table.

  “Hey.” He yawns, putting bacon and eggs on a plate.

  “Make me some too.”

  “Mmmmm, no.” He turns the stove off and sits by her, eating slowly at first but quickly increasing his pace. The bacon tastes insanely good with his heightened taste, and he practically starts inhaling it.

  “Did you not sleep?” Jane raises an eyebrow to him.

  “Mhmm.” He nods as he scoops spoonfuls of eggs into his mouth.

  “Why?”

  He shrugs, “Couldn’t.” some eggs dribble out his mouth, but he catches them and throws them back in.

  “Ew.” She snorts as she watches his sloppy display.

  “You act like you don’t eat this way normally.”

  “Ugh, whatever dick.”

  Tim lets out another big yawn. “You smell nice by the way.”

  ‘Oh... you noticed?”

  “Mhmm.” With each bite Tim can feel his energy returning to him, his mind waking up more and more. Is food that tied to his powers? He’s sure he needs sleep at some point but maybe he can put it off just by eating a lot?

  “How was Rowan’s?” Tim asks as his faculties return to him.

  “Eh,” Jane shrugs, “I mostly just made fun of him as he tried to get that stump out.”

  “Heh, that seems way more fun than eh.” Tim chuckles.

  “Nah, it was eh.” She shrugs. “Make sure to come next time, ok?”

  “Will do, will do.” He gives a thumbs up before heading back to the stove and taking everything out again, making more and more food.

  “You’re going to make seconds after you denied me?” Jane scoffs at him.

  “Grab a plate and grab some now then.” He shrugs as he begins to pile food up high.

  “Damn, did you get a tapeworm or something?” She whistles at Tim overloaded plate.

  “Feels like it.” He says with his mouthful, digging in before he even gets to the table.

  After devouring his breakfast mountain, Tim and Jane begin their short walk to school, and Tim’s eye twitches as he realizes just how bad this particular Monday is going to be. Twenty five hundred teenagers, all crammed into a campus too small for them, turns out that makes for a lot of noise, and worse, smells. Tim feels like he’s going too pass out from the sheer overstimulation of it, having to resist the urge to cover his ears and hold his breath.

  “I am not ready for today.” Tim groans.

  “Me neither. God, Mondays are ass.”

  Tim grabs another breakfast and does his best to focus his sense of taste on his chocolate donut to drown everything out, but it only works so much. Focusing his hearing and smell on Jane helps when the food is gone, but it isn’t long until the bell rings and they need to head to class.

  Tim does his best to go through the motions, but the weight of being overwhelmed refuses to leave. Even when he’s inside it only does so much to filter the noise, so he might as well use it as a learning experience. He knows he can filter sounds and smells by focusing already, time too test how far that goes.

  Very, but still not enough, as it turns out. Focusing entirely on a single person definitely helps, but there’s just too much background stimuli. He can’t make out exactly what people are saying or how fast their heart is being, what chemicals might linger on their skin, while he hones in, but he can still tell its all happening. Almost like he’s hearing someone talking underwater, or through a pillow. What’s more, being so hyper aware of a single thing is an uncomfortable and borderline indescribable sensation as well.

  Their blood flowing, their lungs expanding, their muscles flexing. The scent of what they ate for breakfast lingering on their breath, the contents of said breakfast swishing around in their stomach. Scents on their skin that Tim still doesn’t know the meaning of, the taste of those scents. For as much as Tim loves his powers, he could do without these enhanced senses just because of how invasive they are, let alone everything else.

  He doesn’t realize just how focused he is in the first place until he nearly jumps out of his skin when a certain classmate of his taps on his shoulder.

  “What?” Tim asks Cristine with more hostility than he intends, not that she notices.

  “We both have orange hair now!” She points to the half of her head that was blond yesterday.

  “Is that all you want cause—”

  “You look like you have a headache, I have some ibuprofen, want some?”

  “I’m good, thanks Cristine.” He has a feeling that medicine like that won’t even wok on him anymore anyways, even if a headache was his problem.

  “You and Jane should join Anime Club!” Cristine suddenly squeals as soon as he finishes his sentence.

  “Giiiiirl, you just asked if I had a headache.”

  “Oops, sorry, got excited ha ha.” She giggles. “But you guys should join!”

  “How many times... Cristine, I don’t like anyone in—”

  “But—”

  “Maybe Jane will for the month I’ve been sentenced away.” He tries, desperate to end the conversation. .

  “You’re going to jail?!” She yelps, “For what!?!”

  Tim slowly blinks. “I don’t know, but murder is very close to being added to the charges.”

  “Oooooh, a murder plot, wanna make it a seance so we can summon a demon?” She grins excitedly.

  “I... dude just ask Jane.” Tim tries to end the conversation by turning around.

  “Do you believe in that stuff?” Cristine drops to a whisper, “Demons... ghosts?”

  “Not particularly.” He rubs his temple.

  Then again, until recently its not like he’d ever believe that someone could shapeshift into every extinct animal from ten thousand plus years ago, so maybe there’s something to the stories of demons and ghosts. Probably just other people who have gotten powers throughout the ages.

  “Do you know anything about them?” Cristine continues to whisper.

  “Not a lot, I’ll do some light googling if something catches my eye in a comic or game but—”

  “Cause I’ve been researching—”

  This goes on for the rest of class, and the two after, as Tim’s day starts with three consecutive periods of Cristine in a row. He’s finally free from the babbling of Yokai and Hell by Biology, his favorite school subject. He used to have AP Bio, but the class got cut because of some funding blah blah blah, so in all honesty the class was a little too easy for him, but he doesn’t mind showing off when he has the opportunity anyways.

  Plus, as an added bit of fun, Darik is in this class, and he stares daggers into the back of Tim’s head. Tim glances back at him every now and again, making a show of putting his hand under his chin and nodding at the bruises he’s left across Darik’s face. It's important to admire one’s own work after all.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Tim snickers as Darik snaps his pencil from a wink, and he notices he’s starting to get used to muddled background senses as he shifts the targets of his senses to and fro, only taking a few hours of suffering. He decides to extend his senses to stress test, and immediately regrets it as the scents alone make him wince, still, progress is progress, so he may as well keep it up.

  Instead of extending all of his senses, he singles out just his hearing, and lets in incrementally more and more background noise while keeping his other senses on his teacher. Its enough that he doesn’t really digest any of the conversation going on, but eventually he starts processing all the noises into actual words instead of a cacophony bouncing around in his skull.

  “And he said the kid turned into a velociraptor, and beat up the guy, and then my dad was working his... job and said a giant lizard knocked the whole building down!” A boy from the next classroom over says.

  Looks like people are already talking about PK’s exploits, that’s good. The more people who think a dinosaur will appear and eat them if they’re doing something shitty means that less people will do shitty things.

  “Eh, it was probably just Arch” A girl yawns. “They had that emu thing right? When that explosion happened some of their weird experiments probably just got out.”

  Dang, that's a pretty reasonable explanation all things considered. Would’ve been way cooler if PK quickly became an urban legend before he inevitably ended up on the news of the internet, oh well.

  “Before you all head out, hmm,” the teacher, Mr. Duncan, straightens his glasses and looks at his watch. “I’d like to tell you about an event happening the weekend after next. After what happened at Arch, some other companies have decided to get together and hold their own little science fair for all you bright minds. Admission to this one is free, and will be held in a nice convention in Old Town, it could be a good opportunity to broaden your horizons and—”

  A replacement event for the Arch trip? What are the chances that Lance will be there? Not that Tim isn’t interested anyways, but a chance at finding his new friend is an opportunity to big to pass up. Besides just enjoying what little time they got to spend together, confirming he’ll keep quiet about Tim’s powers should probably be high on the priority list.

  Mr. Duncan puts out a stack of fliers and Tim grabs one as he heads out to lunch, and with lunch, comes detention. The only two things really noteworthy about it is Darik being there, which makes Tim question the logic of locking two kids known for fighting each other in a room together, but it's whatever. The other is how bad Tim wants to hang out with Jane, luckily, their one class together is fast approaching.

  “I hate you.” Jane whines as Tim joins her for roll call before PE kicks off.

  “Did I do something in particular?”

  “You told Cristine to ask me to join anime club!”

  “Oh, right, yeah I guess I did.” He shrugs.

  “Ugh, dick.” She socks his shoulder.

  “Oh don’t be a baby.” He teases her. “You can handle her just fine.”

  “Yeah but I don’t want to, her and that entire crowd are just... Ugh, at best they’re cringy at worst creepy.”

  “True, but what else are you going to do while I serve my sentence?” He shrugs. “May as well get out of the heat.”

  Jane opens her mouth to argue but is cut off by the coach’s whistle, Tim gives her a wink and she exchanges it for a punch to the arm. They go through the motions of the warm up, Tim autopiloting through it all before realizing he’s probably doing a little too well as a couple of his classmates notice. He turns away, cheeks flushing from a girl giving him a smile and mentally thanks the coach when they call for the kids to head to the track to run the mile.

  “How long have you been working out again?” Jane huffs as the two jog side by side. “You’re not even breaking a sweat.”

  “I dunno, recently,” He dismisses, unable to come up with anything better,

  “Well, whatever you’re doing it’s working, you look more... toned I guess.”

  He’s caught off guard by how happy the compliment makes him, it also makes him feel a little guilty, but the large dopamine dose mostly overpowers it.

  “Oh, thanks, guess it’s my metabolism kicking into high gear.”

  “Fuck dude, apparently, watching you eat breakfast was like seeing a Snorlax with rabies.”

  “Yeah, rabies doesn’t really make you eat more like that.”

  “Nerd.” Jane giggles.

  The school day continues on, Tim using it further train his senses as he goes from class to class. Art ends up being rough, a lot of extra chemical scents to deal with, but Tim manages.

  He and Jane head home, making plans to nap once they get to his house, but they’re quickly cancelled as Jane’s dad shows up to pick her up. Dan glares at Tim as he says goodbye to Jane, and he glares back before going to finish the walk home.

  A sheet of math homework and a nap later, and night falls again, meaning it’s time to make drugs extinct once again. Instead of continuing to carve a path through Lakeside and into Alpine, this time he’ll make a hard turn into Lakeside's other neighbor Santee.

  While Lakeside is known for its rednecks and meth, ruralness and dirt, Santee is a much more hateful place. Cleaner on the outside but even more rotten under the surface, the city has the nickname of Klantee, and hosts active KKK rallies from time to time. Even one is too much as far as PK is concerned, and he silently adds beating up the racists to his growing to do list.

  Not that that would solve the problem, it's not like they have a supply to destroy to disrupt their activities, plus it's annoyingly legal to be a racist, but it’ll probably be harder to spread the hate if they have a broken leg. Thoughts to solve later though, right now it's time to check another lab off the map.

  PK finds himself stalking across a highway, the occasional car passing by not paying him much mind. He hops onto the cement guard rail and looks down at a church, honing his hearing onto it, not a peep or a bubble. If PK has to guess, the church might not be an active lab, rather just a front used to launder all the profits selling the drugs makes, though, it has been a whole day since he ripped apart the other labs. It wouldn't be shocking if they packed up the operation and relocated, especially if it's a smaller operation, either way, worth investigating.

  Prehistoric Kid steps off the highway and plummets, rolls a few times in the air for style points, then lands gracefully. He walks up to the church while extending his senses further, then pauses. While there’s still nothing inside the church, there is a buzzing above it.

  He glances up and spots a drone, one that’s nothing like he’s ever seen before. Drones are already a new and expensive item for the consumer market, and they generally have four high speed rotary blades that keep them aloft. This thing is a ball, reminding PK of a droid from Star Wars. Dark orange with a black “racing stripe,” it has multiple different lenses that constantly shift and adjust, staring right at PK.

  He wishes he stole a glance rather than so overtly looking up, but even though it's obvious PK’s noticed the machine, whoever is piloting it doesn’t seem to care.

  “Hm.” PK considers just jumping up and grabbing the thing, but decides to keep an ear on it and enter the church.

  Briefly locked, he pushes his hand through the doorknob and waltzes in. He sniffs the air as he walks past the rows of pews. Deciding to test his sense of touch out, he takes off his glove and places his hand against the cool floor. He feels for any vibrations in the building, and there’s still no sign of people, some animals in the rafters, but at this point he trusts its abandoned, Instead he’s mostly checking for any rooms that aren’t obvious, which, given he hasn’t even checked the back yet, he realizes is a bit early to do so.

  He gets slightly embarrassed as he pulls his glove back on and clears his throat as if it’ll alleviate any awkward tension he left in the room then continues on. As he examines a mosaic of stained glass depicting Jesus, he hears the drone make an approach.

  “Feels like boss music is about to start.” PK turns to face the door, watching the drone push it open and approach. “So, approaching me just like that?”

  “Yes, you have been too blatant.”

  “Lance?” He asks in surprise.

  “Correct, I have been hoping to encounter you again, I have many questions.”

  “Same, in fact I have even—” PK stops as an animal in the rafter grabs his attention. But it sounds wrong, big, too big. His neck begins to prickle as his body urges him to run, to escape, as he feels like he’s being watched, hunted, like he’s prey.

  Lance says something but he doesn’t pay attention, instead PK ducks and rolls, grabbing the drone and holding it against his chest, as something like an engine roared to life above them. It slams down where Tim had been standing a moment ago, obliterating the floorboards into splinters. White and black flames licked off of something raptor-like, as big as Tim’s Utahraptor form, and decked out in some sort of high tech carapace that makes it look more Xenomorph than Jurassic Park. Panels lift up and down along its back, venting the phantasmal flames in small bursts, the fires crawling up its thick, skeletal spine of a tail and wreathing around a large blade that slides across the ground, cutting through it like warm butter.

  “As I said, too blatant, you’ve attracted attention.” Lace says from PK’s arms.

  “Uh.” Tim tries to think of something funny to say, but the creature’s large, shield-like helmet unfurls into a gun. It collects the fire from its body at the tip and fires, sending a ball of flame towards PK. Its fast too, and he barely has time to toss the drone upwards before it makes contact with his chest, sending him off his feet and smashing into pews.

  He has to force himself not to rip off his helmet as he gasps for air, the shot winding him. He grabs his chest and looks down to the hole in his costume and a rapidly fading bruise. Whatever the thing is, its stronger than a rocket launcher, than Seymour, the first thing that's been able to actually, truly harm him since he got his powers.

  “Ok.” PK grins puts his hands to the ground and flips up to his feet, ready to fight.

  The creature stalks around him, hissing, its bladed tail held up like a scorpion, whipping it forward in faux-strikes. PK’s not sure if it's a threat display or if it's trying to bait him, but he matches its circle, stalking it right back.

  He decides to take initiative, raising up his fist and dashing towards it, aiming for its big shield head. PK only finds air as the creature jumps back and lashes out with its tail. PK can barely bring an arm up in reaction as the sizzling blade comes at him, clashing with his ultra durable skin. The flames aren’t hot, but he feels the burn of a cut as his arm begins to bleed green blood, the black and white flames clinging to the blood and eating away at it.

  Tim takes note of the color and ducks away from a follow up tail lash, then smacks the blade into the ground. The blade passes through it with no resistance and the raptor steps back, resuming its circling.

  Prehistoric Kid grits the teeth of his grin, his instincts to run warring with the thrill of the fight. He flexes his arm, itching with anticipation and his healing factor stitches together his wound.

  The opposing dinosaur’s gun unfurls and fires another volley, PK diving to dodge, but the raptor leaps at him at the same time. They collide midair, the monster’s switchblade claw clacking against PK’s unbreakable skin until they wreath in flame and cut into him. White stars and tears fill Tim’s vision as the claws pass through his clavicle, down his ribs, and sink deeper into his guts.

  Any sense of flight is replaced with brute, fiery fight, like any prey animal, and PK’s let out a roar that deepens into a ground shaking bellow as he transforms into a Deinosuchus. The massive crocodilian enters a death roll, ten tons of meat, scales and osteoderms flattening the raptor and embedding it into the church ground. Its limbs flail and it snaps at the air like a desperate turtle trying to right itself, before PK lines his tail up and swings. The shockwave shatters the windows and launches the raptor into the church wall, blowing a huge hole through it as it flies into the parking lot. Its armor sparks as it slides against the blacktop, finally coming to a stop when it uses its tail to dig into the ground.

  “Keep it busy for a few moments longer, I’m reconfiguring the drone’s insides to exploit a weakness in its armor.” Lance’s voice calls down from the drone.

  “Sure, I’m having a great time anyways.” PK says sarcastically after he shifts human, patting his stomach as he makes sure his guts are still on the inside.

  He rolls his neck and jogs in place as the enemy dinosaur’s thrusters roar to life and it launches itself back into the church, grasping claws outstretched, ebony and ivory flames roaring behind it and melting the ground and street lamps.

  PK leaps forward to meet it, sending himself into a spin and transforming into an Ankylosaurus. His clubbed tail his the other dinosaur’s side, cracking its metallic carapace and sending it crashing into the church’s podium, a rain of splinters cascading out and shattering against PK’s armor.

  “You know I keep calling it a raptor in my head.” Tim says as he shifts back and starts walking towards it, ready to leap back at the sight of black and white.. “It needs a better name, maybe uh... Phantasmaraptor? But that has a lot of syllables.”

  “As does Prehistoric Kid.” Lance answers, hovering close to the ceiling.

  “Touche.” PK leaps forward, fist raised, as the Phantasmaraptor rises from the debris.

  He’s met with a flick of its tail, the broad side smacking him down and crashing through what pews remain, until his head gives the church yet another hole in the wall. He yells as he feels teeth dig into his calf and he’s yanked back into the church.

  The Phantasmaraptor shakes him, raises its claws to scratch at PK’s torso, only to find air as PK transforms into his Compy form. It tries to snap him up in its blazing jaws, but as its teeth come down PK slides on his back and size shifts again, human feet meet dinosaur jaw and launch the Phantasmaraptor away.

  Its thrusters roar like jet engines, letting it recover mid air, igniting the church in a spiral of phantasmic flame that all begins to collect onto its xenomorphic armor. Its blaster unfurl, flame dripping from it like lava and its hisses as it prepares a charge.

  “Second phase huh? How’s it coming man?” PK shuts to Lance, then rolls out of the way of a tail lash.

  “Nearly done.”

  “Yay yippy.” PK sighs and shifts Compy, sliding under the Phantasmaraptor, then shifts back to human and kicks its heel, forcing it to buckle.

  “You’re stepping it up because of the Phantasmaraptor name right?” He taunts as he grabs it by the tail, swings it over his shoulder, and sashes it into the ground. “I mean it doesn’t really fit but—” its gun unfurls and fires at PK’s head, forcing him to scramble out of the way. “Your fire just reminds me of ghosts, you know?”

  “There’s no point in taunting it.” Lance says from above, inching closer, “It likely can’t understand you.”

  “Eh, it's more for me.” PK says, barely dodging a direct hit to his head from a tail swipe, the blade making contact with his helmet and ripping through the faceplate, sending glass dust into his eyes.

  His eyes don’t give to tiny shards, they don’t even hurt, but they do obscure his vision. His first instinct is to try and rip off his helmet and wipe his face, but he stops himself. This thing is covered in tech, it might have cameras in its eyeballs or something. So he hesitates, and pays for it, his nerves lighting on fire as a blurry blade goes through his arm.

  Stars mix with the tears in his vision, his breath becomes unsteady, he tries to pull away only to be naked off his feet and sent onto his back. Teeth and claw loom over PK, the bladed tail flicking out of his arm and moving towards his throat, until there’s a click and high pitched whir. PK sees some kind of pulse from above him, from Lance’ drone, and the Phantasmaraptor shrieks in pain.

  Its armor sparks and its flames spout out of control, a high pitched, electronic sound blades by its ears and it desperately scratches at them as Tim’s vision finally clears. Time to finish this.

  “Let it rip!” PK shouts and sends himself into a spin across the ground while touching into a fetal position. He kicks behind him to spin even faster, and then transforms into a Stegosaurus.

  His plates catch the Phantasmaraptor, pulling it along with the spin, its leg catching under a plate and pulling it under the Stegosaurus. Its armor strains and cracks, the hinges on its vents groan and pop off. It tries to unfurl its gun, only for it to turn to scrap against the far more durable scales. It claws at the ground, bites at the plates and tears through chunks of the bone until it finally manages to scuttle out from under PK.

  It limps away, mouth hanging open, drool raining from its mouth, before a sudden burst of speed launches it into a full sprint. Tim transforms into his Utahraptor to give chase, but the drone darts in front of him.

  “No, the police have been called and if we extend this fight, it will only draw more attention to yourself.”

  “Does it matter?” Tim questions after shifting, though instantly complies and leaps to the highway.

  “Yes.” Lance’s done follows hi up. “There are more dangerous things out there than what you fought tonight, far more dangerous.”

  “Well... you said you had something to show me?” He asks as he runs his finger over his healed forearm.

  “Yes, follow me.”