Six rapid-fire bullets—but not aimed at the inbound bounties.
She fired them all into the sky.
Aimed at what? The answer soon fell toward us.
Several light fixtures plummeted directly toward the thugs’ heads.
They croaked like toads as the lights came crashing down and squished them flat.
It wasn’t even an outdoor set. We were on a soundstage!
The moment I perceived that, the sun shining above became a prop suspended from the rafters.
At this point, someone really ought to yell, “Cut!” and snap a clapper, but even when I looked for one, I could see a crew. Guess we’d have to help ourselves to The End.
The mayor was clutching his head, so clearly none of this was going according to plan. It wasn’t really clear how much power and sway this dude had.
“So?” Haruhi asked. “Where the hostages at?”
Two heads peered around the boards with a bank painted on. Seeing all the villains laid out, they nervously emerged. A young man in work clothes—in this case, a flannel shirt and suspenders—and a woman in a long dress, like an old-timey maid. They must be the couple we were meant to save.
They’d been prince and princess in the RPG, and I forget what in the space opera—for the first time, we actually laid eyes on them. Was I the only one who thought they looked exhausted and resigned?
“Thank you.”
“From the bottoms of our hearts.”
The powerful rancher’s son and his wife bowed their heads. Thoroughly average-looking people. No matter how long I studied their faces, I’d forget them thirty seconds after looking away. They could be anywhere from their late teens to their early thirties—completely devoid of any memorable details. Stick figures were more distinctive.
But if we saved the hostages, it should be mission complete.
“Yo, old-timer,” I said.
Hands on his head, he looked my way. “What?”
“What else? We may be a bit off script, but we did what you asked. Getting sent off to the next world won’t—”
Before I could even finish, a car crashed through the wall of the studio.
“Augh! What the—?!”
A black automobile with a cloth roof, so classic it was basically a fossil on wheels. The kind of car you’d see driving down the coast at the start of the twentieth century. It pulled up next to the rancher’s kids. Black suited arms reached out and dragged them in, and the car sped away, crashing through the far wall.
“Hey!” Haruhi yelled. “We just rescued them! Let us enjoy the moment! I wanted to play a cowboy leaving the ranch behind as all the farmhands wept!”
She stamped her foot, and another car shot through the hole the first had made. This looked familiar. It was an open-top Model T Ford touring car.
It pulled to a silent stop like a taxi. No one was in the driver’s seat.
“Are we supposed to give chase?” Koizumi wondered, stroking his chin. “Is anyone capable of driving a car like this?”
I shook my head, and so did Haruhi and Asahina. Before I could say, “You’re up, Nagato!”
“—I’ll drive,” the mayor said, stepping into the driver’s seat. “Just a little freebie. Aftercare, if you will.”
We glanced at each other momentarily, then piled in. Haruhi claimed shotgun.
“Off we go, gramps! I’ll tip you later. Let’s catch these clowns and finish that shoot-out! With a car chase! Go, go, go!”
The Ford took off like a pinball. Not exactly what I’d call an ending, but that was all she wrote for the western arc.
Outside the soundstage, it was the middle of the night.
Rows of skyscrapers standing against the backdrop of midnight awaited us. Also the world was black-and-white now. The colorful neon signs on the shops all looked equally white.
Haruhi’s headband, Asahina’s eyes, and Nagato’s hair were all shades of gray.
Our clothes had been changed on us, too. Dark suits, white shirts, and black neckties. No need for colors here. Were we on the way home from a funeral?
The mayor had also done a quick change to a black suit. Hands on the steering wheel, he said, “Prohibition era Chicago. Or maybe New York.”
Pick one.
“Doesn’t matter which—that’s beside the point.”
Fair enough.
“I’m no longer the mayor. I’m an ordinary hired driver. Slash guide.”
And the kidnapped duo?
“They’ll be in the gangster’s hideout. You’re on your way to talk things over with the mob boss.”
“Is he gonna be inclined to listen?” Haruhi asked.
“Unlikely. Which means you’ll have to get the better of them somehow. Win and the hostages go free! If you’re lucky, there’ll be no car chase required.”
It didn’t seem like we’d be that lucky.
I let myself sink in the—rather uncomfortable—back seat, looking up at the sky. The twinkling stars were just gray dots, far less impressive than what we’d seen in space.
I hadn’t heard anyone say “Mission incomplete” this time. As I wondered why not, we sped up, and inertia pushed me deeper into the back of the seat.
We pulled to a stop not long after. The corner of a street full of tall buildings. Haruhi leaped out first, and we all followed.
“The basement of that building is an illegal speakeasy. See those stairs right in front of you? Go down that way, knock three times on the door, wait three seconds, and knock three more times. They’ll open for you.”
There was a hole in front of the gray building just wide enough for two to pass. It was connected to a staircase that led into darkness. Very sinister.
“Don’t worry, it’s all been arranged. Worse comes to worst, you can slip out in the commotion.”
He flashed us a wrinkly grin.
“Best of luck. May we meet again, children.”
With that, the classic car drove off, belching exhaust. Regardless of what waited below us, I remained unsure how helpful that old-timer actually was. He sure made it sound like this wasn’t our last meeting, which meant any hopes we had of successfully rescuing these hostages were likely unfounded.
“Might as well head in! It’ll probably be fine.”
Haruhi was always optimistic, but for me to find that comforting? What a day.
Our chief led the way down the stairs and we followed. Mere seconds later, we encountered a heavy wooden door blocking our way. Haruhi knocked three times, waited three seconds, and knocked three more times.
✦ ✦ ✦
