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“How'd it really go, sis?” he asks as he starts his bike. The rumble immediately gives me all sorts of ideas that a girl shouldn’t have about her brother.
“Bum deal. If he knows anything, he didn't let on. I did everything but dangle Mullerby’s confession in front of him and he didn't even flinch. If he was lying, he was prepared.”
He shrugs. “He might just be what he says. Some old guy who felt bad that his colleague was an asshole. Want us to take you home, or…” He lets it hang, making it pretty obvious what he'd prefer.
“I wouldn’t mind stopping by the club.” I squeeze him harder. “If you don’t mind the company.”
I'm day-dreaming of what's going to be waiting for me once we get to the clubhouse, when a loud roar sounds behind us, drowning out even the roar of the motorcycles. My fingers tighten around Reaper as I look back over my shoulder. What the?—
Three big SUV-like vehicles, but squatter and wider, have come up right behind us. They're jet black with tinted windows so it's impossible to see who's inside. From where I'm sitting, their grilles look huge, like locomotives are bearing down on us. At first I think it’s a convoy for some important person, but the way they’re spread out behind is a little too threatening to ignore. The guys signal to each other, communicating in some way that I don’t understand.
I squeeze my eyes shut and hold on as Reaper twists the throttle. His bike lurches forwards as the engine engages. Hair whips around my face while I dig my fingers so deeply into his jacket that I worry my nails are going to rip off. Falling off now would be almost certain death.
We squeeze between two cars, close enough that I could reach out and touch both of them at once. To our right, Mack cuts in just ahead of a delivery van, and then Scrapper appears from behind to overtake both of them. The van slams on its breaks and I have a flash of the driver flipping us off before we leave him far behind.
We weave through traffic like we have a death wish, but the cars chasing us aren't giving up. A loud metallic screech sounds behind us, and when I look behind, one of them has forced a car into the guardrail that separates us from the river below. The side of the car catches on something, and it's peeled open like a tin can, before it stops and the big car chasing us pushes by. These guys are insane.
Reaper finds a little more juice in the engine, opening the throttle all the way. I don't even want to know how fast we're going. Mack and Scrapper are holding pace, but it’s every man for themselves as we race through the blur of traffic. Another car tries to get out of the way and ends up shoved aside, in a symphony grinding metal. One of its tires explodes when it slams into the cement barrier on the inside of the highway and the hood starts smoking. The cars chasing us haven't even slowed down, though. No matter what Reaper does, they stick like glue.
I close my eyes and pray for the first time in who knows how long. The motorcycles are much easier to maneuver, but at this speed, even the smallest error or surprise will turn us into ground beef.
Long River comes up ahead of us, fast. Underneath the approaching bridge, the water roils, dark and muddy from all the erosion after the torrential rain we had just before the heat wave. All we have to do is cross to get into South Side, where our chances of help improve drastically if one of the Screaming Eagle patrols picks up what’s going on.
I look to our left and see a car bump against Mack's back wheel. I scream, watching him veer across the lane, nearly skidding out on the asphalt before recovering. He stays up, but it kills his speed and he drops out of sight. Scrapper raises a fist and falls back, probably to help Mack. A moment later, the cracks of gunshots cut through the engine noises. l hope he's the one shooting, and not the one getting shot at but I can't tell.
We shoot onto the bridge, the sound of the wheels changing to a hollow rattle that knocks my teeth together. A moment later I hear the deeper rumble of car wheels hitting the same surface. It's coming. I close my eyes and wait.
The bike lurches as something hits the rear fender.
“Reaper!” I scream, his name torn right out of my mouth by the wind.
He veers one way, and then the other, but a second car boxes us in to the right. To the left is a railing that’s the only thing keeping us from the cold river below.
Oh God, we're going to die, and this is going to be all my fault. It's got to be. I don't know if it was the judge, Mullerby, or someone who saw us in City Hall, but there's no way this isn't related.
Reaper, Scrapper and Mack are guilty of nothing but trying to keep me safe, and I’m getting us all killed. Danny was right, in the end, but I don't think I'll be around for him to tell me that he told me so.
The cars inch closer, closing the box. Our bumper's nudged again, making the back wheel kick out. For a moment, I think we're doomed, but Reaper manages to keep us upright. His skill is the only thing keeping us alive, but that can only work for so long.
Like they can hear my thoughts, the car behind us rams hard, launching the bike forwards and sideways, so that the front wheel catches on the bridge railing. Holding onto Reaper doesn't help when both of us are thrown off the bike. There's a loud crunch beneath us as his bike crumples under the car, and then we're over the railing, flipping out of control and heading straight for the dark water under the bridge.
It was fun while it lasted.
20
REAPER
Fuck! There isn’t time to think or plan. I grab Mila and try to hold myself as long and vertically as possible so I hit first. It still hurts like a bitch, and as soon as we go under, Mila's grip around me is torn away in an instant. I try to twist and reach for her, but the current’s too strong and we’re both still rocketing down through the shit colored water.
She's gone.
I wanna scream, but if I do, I'm gonna drink down this whole damn river. She better be able to fucking swim or I’m going to kill her.
It goes against every instinct, but I keep my head cool and work with the current not against it. Eventually the momentum lets up and I can push towards the surface. My lungs are fucking burning when I take the first gasp of air mixed with muddy water. Jesus, this current is gonna rip my fucking clothes off if they don’t sink me first. The bridge is already way behind me and it’s disappearing fast. I should be glad the fall didn't kill me, but unless I get myself under control I'm either gonna be smashed against a rock or washed out at sea.
And where the fuck is Mila?
Shit.
