Chapter Eleven
Erik accelerated and darted between the hovering flitters stuck in the traffic jam.
The thug in the stolen flitter had a head start, but the dense cloud of vehicles above and the buildings were slowing him down, as were his abrupt direction changes.
“We can do this,” Erik muttered, then ducked his head, dodging a floating piece of paper.
The air rushed past him, and he kept a firm grip on the control yoke.
The last time he had flown a mini-flitter, it hadn’t been at either this high a speed or in this dense of traffic.
He chuckled.
A little challenge always got the blood pumping, and following some criminal only enhanced his personal satisfaction. This wasn’t some plucky insurgent fighting for a doomed cause out of a warped sense of honor.
No, this was a piece-of-gar
