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1
Camilla
A chilly breeze blew by, making the strands of my dark auburn hair blow around my face. Clutching onto my jacket, I deeply breathed in the night air.
My gaze took in the dark tree-lined avenue and the gorgeous buildings belonging to the fraternities. Dull beats of hip-hop music reached my ears.
My lips quirked in a grin, reminding me of the wild freshman parties that went on till dawn in these fraternity halls.
Taking my phone from my pocket, I checked the time and found it was a few minutes past midnight.
Ugh! That report nearly killed me, I thought grudgingly, rotating my shoulders and stretching my neck.
A sudden craving for a cup of hot noodles flared inside me. It was the easiest but tastiest meal that could be whipped up at this late hour when I reached my tiny apartment outside the university campus.
My feet suddenly came to a halt.
A strange roaring sound came toward me at an alarming speed. Confusion flickered through me. What could be making that noise this late at night?
I looked around, catching sight of a fat gray cat stealthily padding toward a bush on the other side of the street. I listened more carefully, finally realizing the sound came from a fast-moving car.
Is someone racing around here?I wondered.
Before I could take another step, a blinding flare of light hit me in the face. My forearm rose before my eyes compulsively. Next second, the deafening roar of an engine came threateningly close to me.
I kept my eyes squeezed shut, expecting the vehicle to hit me. A gale seemed to whip past me, the shock not even allowing me to cry out.
A loud crashing explosion echoed through the night.
Heart pounding hard, I slowly opened my eyes.
In the glare of the streetlights, I quickly took note of a bike that had crashed against a tree trunk only a few feet away from me.
Smoke and sparks flew around the motorcycle. A rider lay near it. His dark clothes and helmet nearly blended him against the glistening midnight-black motorcycle.
My shock morphed into panic. I desperately looked around the street but the entire area was deserted at this late hour.
What should I do?I questioned myself.Do I call for help first or check up on the guy?
The pungent smell of gas and smoke filled the air. I didn’t know much about motorcycles but was sure a crash like that could seriously injure the rider. Making up my mind, I let my backpack fall off my shoulder and ran toward the man.
Half of the guy’s body was crushed under the bike. His unmoving body made my anxiety worse but I choked down the panic and shook his broad, heavy shoulders.
“Hey!” I shouted, shaking him. “Wake up! You need to get away from the bike.”
A soft groan sounded from him.
A sliver of relief spread through me. At least, he was alive. “Wake up!” I urged in a louder voice, shaking him more vigorously. “C’mon! We’ve got to go.”
The man groaned again but couldn’t seem to move his body.
The smoke flying around me seemed to thicken and blacken. I coughed as the fumes entered my nose and mouth. The man was barely moving. Without a choice, I grabbed his thick wrists and pulled.
Within a few minutes, I was panting hard. The man was over six feet tall and heavily muscled under his black leather jacket. Moving him was a back-breaking job but inch by inch, I managed to pull him from under the bike.
My breath came out in harsh pants as I bent over him, gasping for breath. Sweat-slicked strands fell in my eyes as I looked around, still desperately searching for someone to help me save the badly injured man.
Taking several deep breaths, I started pulling him away from the bike. My chest heaved from the exhaustion as I dragged his tall, heavy body along the sidewalk until we were sufficiently away from the bike.
