In the outer banks of Central City, a patrol car sits on the shoulder of a viaduct highway. Streetlights burn orange, surrounded by distant skyscrapers with neon strips.
The officer sniffs, a thick lump shifting in his throat. A semi rumbles past, skidding pebbles of asphalt and loose debris. He glances at the mounted radar: a steady 73.
The other officer sips his coffee, the sleeve warm against his fingers. “Got throat lozenges?”
The officer looks over. “The cold got you too?” Reaching into the center console, he retrieves a small bag. The plastic crinkles as he opens it.
The other officer gives a grimace of a smile. “Feels like the entire station’s hurting.” He opens his palm for the medicine. “Debra sounded like she was about to bust a rib. Thanks.” He unwraps it and pops it into his mouth.
“She can be pretty stubborn. I’m glad Marcus had the foresight to send her home.” A small SUV cruises past the drivers window. Radar reads 70.
The other officer swallows a few times. “I wish I were home.”
The officer huffs a laugh. “Yeah, no kidding. It gets pretty quiet out here.”
A distant hum rises behind them. The other officer eyes the mirror and lifts his coffee. A deep engine roar grows. A car screams past. A smear of red against black concrete. The reader spikes to 150. The shock wave rocks their patrol car.
The other officer shoves his cup into the console and buckles his seat belt. The driver grabs the stick shift and flicks on the lights, a siren erupts into a high‑pitched wail.
A streak of blue rips past. Wind crackles.
Both officers freeze, the driver’s hand hovering over the wheel.
“Was that Sonic?!” the other officer barks.
“That was Sonic!” The driver yanks the wheel, tires crunching. He steps on the gas, thrusting forward.
The other officer scrambles for the radio. Holding the receiver to his mouth, “Code Black and Blue! The suspect has been spotted on Highway I-68. Sonic is in pursuit of a red Porsche. I repeat, Sonic is in pursuit.”
Orange lamp light rolls over the sleek curves of the Porsche. Sonic is hot on its rear spoiler. Taillights bathe his face. Every footfall drums. His chest pulses with heavy, controlled breaths. A deep burn in his calves. Arms thrown back.
The Porsche glides across lanes, wheels screeching. Sonic dives and curves in a wide arc. The car slows for the fork, then accelerates again. The distant city blurs into neon and illuminated windows.
Sonic glances back as the wailing crescendos. The patrol car surfaces behind him in a rhythmic sway of blue and red.
He looks forward. The Porsche weaves between cars. Sonic dodges a smaller vehicle, then another merging in front of him.
Using the momentum, he vaults himself forward. His shoulder collides with the roof. He rolls over the windshield and kicks off the hood, denting the metal beneath his sole.
He lands and bolts ahead. Shock waves rattle a neighboring car.
Sonic dives into the tunnel and catches up to the driver’s side window. He stares at the undefined figure behind the tinted lenses.
“Pull over!” Sonic hollers, his voice echoing through the tunnel.
The Porsche’s engine snarls and accelerates. Sonic sprints harder. The hood gains a few inches before he takes them back.
He thinks he can out-pace me? That’s cute. Sonic’s lips quirk up.
Sneakers pounding, he circles to the front of the car. He peers over his shoulder, noting how the right hand headlight is busted and the licence plate is crunched. The patrol car tails them.
They emerge on the other side. The other end of the highway is barricaded, swarmed of police cars.
The Porsche lurches Sonic’s brows furrow.
He’s gonna barrel right through them.
Sonic falls back, making a wide arch to the passenger side. His arms folded to his chest.
He leaps forward and ducks his knees towards his muzzle. His sharp quills curve over his body and rolls into a tight ball. He launches.
Sonic spin dashes into the front wheel. Metal crunches. The Porsche swerves out. The tires brakes, screaming across the asphalt. It tails spins and veers towards the median barriers.
The driving officer slams the brakes. The patrol car’s front grounds, elevating the back wheels.
The Porsche swerves into the barrier, cement crumbles. It’s frame bounces as it comes to a stop. Smoke billowing.
Sonic changes trajectory and unravels. He digs his heels, skidding. Officers surround the vehicle.
Sonic leans against the opposite side’s barriers, placing a hand to his chest. His heart is a thrumming fist against his ribs. He inhales deeply, closing his eyes.
Traffic navigates in a careful rotation. The Porsche driver is guided into the back seat of a patrol car. The two officers stand beside their own.
Sonic’s sneakers crunch against the road. He raises a gloved hand, “Yo, officers!”
The first officer sniffs, turning towards the hedgehog. The second officer’s hand ghost over his taser.
Sonic stops and juts a thumb behind him. “That guy did a hit‑and‑run near the corner store on South Street.” He plants a hand on his hip. “Glad I caught him before he turned everyone to paste.”
The officers exchange a look.
Sonic gestures with his other hand, “No need to thank me-“
A sharp metal clink.
“Huh-?” Sonic’s other arm is yanked into the other cuff with a snap. His eyes widen. “What the-! Hey!”
The first officer grips his forearm, thumb pressing into the tan fur. He hunches to meet Sonic’s height. “Sonic the Hedgehog, you are under arrest for evading prior arrest, speeding, and obstructing police investigation.”
Sonic opens his mouth, but the second officer cuts in, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
Sonic gestures to himself. “No way! I just caught the guy speedin’!”
A gloved hand touches his shoulder. Sonic jerks. A third officer holds up a small device. “Hold still. I’m checking your chip.”
Sonic yanks his arm away and steps back. “As if.” His quills erect sharply. Shoulders square.
The second officer draws his taser but keeps it low. They crowd him, towering over his smaller frame. The first officer’s grip moves to his bicep. He presses his palm into Sonic’s temple, tilting his head.
The third kneels, holds one of his ear and thumbs the inner skin. Sonic grits his teeth.
“It’s been removed,” she sighs, voice muffled behind a medical mask, “We’ll have to write him in manually.”
The first officer nods and releases him, turning back to the patrol car’s open door. He leans into the seat.
Sonic takes a slow step back.
The second officer poses his taser, “Don’t do it, rodent.”
Sonic grins, an incisor peeking between his lips, “What’s little ol’ me gonna do?” He lifts his gloved palms. “You’ve caught me.”
The third officer stands. “Should we call animal control?”
“Not this time.” The second officer gestures, “He’s a special case.”
Sonic glances between a medical hand and the fingers threatening the trigger.
The first officer returns with a clipboard, pen clicking. Sonic’s eyes flick to the keys attached to the loop of his belt.
The first officer sniffs and speaks into his radio. “Subject male, species mammal, coat blue. Last seen three weeks ago speeding downtown, causing traffic jams, evading arrest. Currently under arrest for—”
The taser clatters to the road.
The first officer’s head snaps down. Sonic vanishes. The two officers are cuffed together.
The second officer yanks his wrist, “Shit!” He looks up. Sonic vaults over the median barrier, disappearing over the edge. He points, “He’s getting away!”
“Dammit!” The first officer slams his clipboard, pen scattering. He rushes to the barrier and leans over.
A blue bolt is already halfway down the lower highway, vanishing into the city’s outer limits.
