Page 105 of Road to Redemption

The SUVs blared on their horns but couldn’t find their way around the line of cars trying to turn left.

A wave of relief washed over me as we reached more open roads. Our gaggle of bikes were gaining speed, the motorcycles weaving between each other and changing positions in the crowd.

“That was easy.” Leo’s voice was hesitant, her head turning to check behind her.

But a loud humming overhead drew my eyes up. “Look up.”

The Violence bikers, all of them a conglomerate of helmets and armored suits, looked up and spotted the fleet of drones overhead.

“SUVs were a distraction.” Dom growled. “Follow the plan.”

We’d accounted for this. Knowing better than to believe a tech genius would just give us an automobile tail, we made sure that everything we did would be untraceable.

The buzz of the drones was loud enough to hear over the engines of the roaring motorcycles, even as Spencer sped up and zipped around the light traffic on the two lane road.

Clinging to Spencer’s back, I tried not to get nauseous as she weaved between the other bikers. My stomach dropped into my ass every time she hit a curve, our bodies shifting together as we took the corners.

I couldn’t imagine the view from overhead being any less dizzying. As we drove, our route took us under long overpasses. That was where our motorcycles did the most rearranging.

At the edge of the pack as we entered the overpass, Spencer hit the brakes under the cover of the concrete and moved us to the opposite end of the motorcycles. Another biker filled our original place.

Just as we fell into place, the sun broke over the overpass and we were back in open air.

The wind was beating into me as I tried to focus on where everyone was.

Each overpass gave us just a few seconds of signal interruption that would hopefully make tracking our movements — even with slowed down footage — nearly impossible.

Over the intercom, Dom gave us the next order. “Long overpass, incoming. Hit the brakes. Swap riders.”

Each biker nodded their agreement as we approached. It was an overpass formed by the bridge that crossed the Hudson river, it gave us about 200 feet to swap our riders and rearrange before getting back on the road.

But we would have to move quickly, the drones would lower from the sky to see what we were doing if we moved too slowly.

Overhead, I could hear the drones continuing on our projected path, losing track of us for just a few seconds.

As soon as the bikes came to a halt, backpacks and riders hopped off. It sent my mind reeling to watch them mix and match. Even I was losing track of who was who. If Spencer hadn’t reached her hand out to me, I wouldn’t have even been sure it was her.

Helping me off the bike, Spencer started to move me toward Leo’s bike. But I froze, unable to move.

“Bunny, let’s go.”

All I could do was stare at her through my visor. We’d gone over this a hundred times, we’d figured out exactly what would need to happen, who would be on which bike.

Still, my feet refused to move.

“Babe, we have to move.” Spencer pleaded, giving my arm a light tug. When I didn’t move, my chest heaving with anxiety, Spencer stepped closer and squeezed my hand.

All of Leo’s tricks wouldn’t work. There was almost nothing to hear, the engines’ loud roaring making it impossible to hear anything else. There was nothing to taste, my mouth dry from nerves.

Overhead, the drone hum grew closer, they’d realized they’d lost us and came back to investigate.

In the intercom, Dom growled. “Get her on a fucking bike. The drones are close.”

“Fuck.” Spencer’s voice came through my helmet muffled, not through the intercom. Lifting her hand to her mask, she flicked her visor up, revealing her dark eyes and the vague shape of her nose. “Kiera, look at me. I need you to get on the bike.”

Overwhelmed with comfort knowing that it was really her — really my Spencer — my body finally decided to move. “Okay.”

Spencer’s hand had moved up to my bicep, tugging me toward Leo’s bike as she flipped her visor back down.