Alien Pursuit

The silver craft took another hit, its left wing now belching black smoke. With the balance lost, Kara, who had no pilot's license to speak of, struggled to keep the malfunctioning vessel airborne.

The sphere-shaped pursuers closed in, their speed more than double that of the crippled craft. At this rate, reaching the portal seemed an impossibility—unless someone took action.

"Open the hatch," Jay said abruptly to Kara. "I'll hold them off."

"You're insane," Kara retorted, shaking her head. "The radiation's weakened us, and who knows if you can even stay airborne, let alone take them down."

"So, we just stay put and wait to be shot down?" Jay countered.

Kara clenched her teeth. She knew he was right. If their craft was destroyed, she and Jay might survive, but these weakened hostages would stand no chance.

"It's the only way," Jay insisted, locking eyes with her. "Open the hatch. I'll come back, I promise."

After a moment's hesitation, Kara sighed and pressed the button. The hatch descended with a low hum, the violent wind of high-speed flight flooding the cabin, whipping Jay's cape behind him like a vibrant standard.

Mr. Reynolds pushed through, laying a hand on his son's shoulder, words failing him. Jay smiled, "Don't worry, Dad. I'll be quick and catch up. We'll have a real party when we get back—just you, me, and Mom."

Sorrow filled Mr. Reynolds' eyes as he patted his son's shoulder. Even with his son's extraordinary abilities, he had always seen Jay as just a boy. Only now did he realize that his child was truly ready to soar.

"Come back to us, son."

With a resolute nod, Jay turned to face the howling wind and the six vessels. After a deep breath and a silent prayer for strength, he leaped from the craft, leaving a heroic silhouette against the backdrop of chaos.

In life, one should at least be dashing once, Jay thought. In his past life, he often fantasized about moments of selfless valor, like those of movie heroes, moments that were sure to dazzle and perhaps even prompt screams of adoration. Now that he had his chance, the glory he had imagined was absent.

The heroism was a weighty burden, lives hanging in the balance, including his beloved father's. Being a hero wasn't cool; it was a call to action because he was the only one who could respond.

The closest vessel was barely ten meters from the tail of their ship—a perilously close distance at such velocity. The alien pilot's chatter turned to a panicked shout as a blue blur, Jay, smashed into the side of his craft. The spherical vessel spun out of control, smashing into a nearby building.

Jay weaved through the remaining ships, his fists aching. The good news: he could still fly and fast. The bad news: he lacked the strength to punch through their hulls, requiring a more sophisticated approach.

Luring three ships away, Jay dived, drawing their fire down upon the streets, eliciting fiery explosions and scattering alien pedestrians. Using the chaos as cover, he shot upwards, threading through the gap between the vessels, and streaked toward the two still pursuing Kara's ship.

The pilots cursed, but Jay's form was too elusive, darting through the barrage unscathed. With a sudden burst of speed, he closed the gap and grasped the ships' tail fins. With a powerful twist, he forced them into each other, their collision erupting into a ball of fire, leaving only burning debris to fall from the sky.

The remaining pilots, furious, had no choice but to chase the flying Earth boy. Jay darted into a busy district, leading his pursuers away from Kara's craft, which finally broke free from pursuit.

Onboard, the hostages exhaled in relief. "Is he Superman? Did he come back for us?" someone whispered.

"No," Kara replied, her gaze fixed forward. "But he's someone who's trying to be."

The entrance to the scrapyard's conduit loomed near—their tunnel home. Kara hit a button, retracting the ship's wings to squeeze through the tight passage. "Hold on tight," she warned, accelerating once more. The craft shook violently, its hull screeching against the conduit's walls as it shot through the seemingly endless tunnel like a bullet from a gun.