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I want to do what he asks, but my body isn't in tune with my mind. The numbness is spreading like a virus, my eyelids lower, and my heart gives in to the nothingness taking over my body.
I'm sorry. I really am--
"Tracker!" Blaise suddenly shouts over the howling wind.
A surge of adrenaline pulsates through my body, and my eyes snap open.
In the distance, I spot the metallic snake, heading straight for us.
Chapter 5
The Heart of a Snake
The Tracker slithers up and down through the air toward us, its metallic body glinting against the red light glowing across the sky. Dirt sprays everywhere as the monster cuts through the ground, the land quaking in protest.
"Dammit," Ryder curses, yanking me against him. "Drive faster!"
"I can't," Blaise growls. "The throttle is floored."
"Then make a hard right and drive near the top of the cliffs!" Ryder yells. "Maybe if we're close enough to the fault, it'll keep its distance."
"You want me to drive along the ledge?" Blaise asks, confounded. "Do you know how dangerous that is?"
"Since when do you care about danger?" Ryder grips me as the motorcycle jostles to the side.
In the distance, the dirt splits open from the burst of another hole. Then, curving downward, the Tracker dives back into the dirt, sending the motorcycle swaying against the impact. Blaise manages to get it under control and continues forward.
"Since it involves other people," Blaise mutters so softly I barely hear him.
"Okay. Good point," Ryder says. "But trying to outrun a Tracker might be as dangerous."
Blaise mumbles incoherently under his breath then lets up on the gas a bit. "Hang on!"
Ryder secures his grasp on me to the point that his elbows are pressing into my stomach. "Just hang on. We won't let anything happen to you--"
Blaise makes a sharp veer to the right toward the cliffs, and we nearly topple off. Ryder holds on tightly, keeping us on the seat as Blaise floors the gas, zooming right for the ledge. When he just about reaches the end, he fishtails the back end of the motorcycle around and lines us along with the top of the cliffs. Then he picks up speed again, driving so close that only a few inches separate us from a long, deadly fall.
I want to look away from the seemingly bottomless hole, but since I can't move my head, I'm forced to endure my fear of heights, which might be a good thing. The fear I'm feeling seems to be increasing my heart rate and keeping me alive.
"Are you sure you can't go any faster?" Ryder shouts as the motorcycle bumps against tremors vibrating across the ground. "It's coming up right behind us!"
"I already told you I've got the damn thing throttled to the max!" Blaise shouts. "The city's only about a mile ahead. If we can make it there, we'll be fine."
"We might not make it."
"We'll make it."
"They should really put guns on these things," Ryder grumbles. "I don't know why they don't."
"Nowhere to put--"
The Tracker bursts from the ground at the side of us, sending the motorcycle skidding toward the drop off. Blaise tries to correct our direction as rocks and dirt shower over us, but the back wheel skids out of control.
Cursing, Blaise grips the brakes and the engine squeals in protest as we slam to an uncontrollable stop.
I gasp as the back end starts to slide off the edge, while Blaise floors the gas again and the motorcycle surges forward.
Straight for the Tracker.
"Blaise ..." Ryder warns in panic.
"I've got it," he assures him as he drives straight at the metal snake that is plunging in and out of the ground.
"I'm not sure you do." Ryder delves his fingers into my hips, and his legs press into mine as he holds on to me firmly.
"Yes, I do," Blaise replies confidently as we zoom toward the Tracker.
I hold my breath as I wait for Blaise to turn around. Instead, he keeps driving straight at the snake.
Dirt surrounds us as we get closer, and the motorcycle trembles violently, jostling my body around like a doll. Ryder holds on to me, scooting forward on the seat and pushing me forward so I'm wedged tightly between him and Blaise.
"Okay, everyone, hold on," Blaise orders over a series of loud beeps.
"Don't use the turbochargers," Ryder warns with a nervous edge in his tone. "You'll end up sending us straight into the Tracker."
"Nope, just right through it."
"What? Are you--"
Boom!
An explosion blasts from underneath me as the motorcycle surges forward so rapidly the air gets ripped from my lungs. My ears ring. My heart thrashes. My surroundings go black as we soar right into the belly of the snake. Fragments of metal claw at my skin; showers of sparks rain around me, scalding my skin; and a loud thudding reverberates inside my head.
I lift my gaze, tracking the noise, and shock ripples through me.
An enormous heart beats from above, surrounded by broken tubes and gadgets.
Oh, my God, we're inside the Tracker.
The bitter metallic scent in the air is smothering, and my lungs work extra hard to take short, gasping breaths. Then, as quickly as we entered the snake, we're bursting through the other side and into the dry air and bleeding red sky.
Blaise lets out a deafening breath as he raises his head. Pieces of metal are stuck in his hair and the fabric of his jacket is covered with singed holes. From what I can tell, though, he appears okay.
"Is Allura all right?" Blaise asks as he steers the motorcycle toward the city.
"Yeah, I think so," Ryder says in shock. "I can't believe that just happened. I mean, we've done crazy shit before, but never like that."
"Yeah, we have." Blaise flicks a glance over his shoulder. "Are you sure Allura's okay? Did you look her over?"
Ryder's face appears in my line of sight, his gaze sweeping across my face. "She has a small cut on her forehead, but other than that, she's fine."
I eye him over, too, and note a few blisters forming on his cheek, probably from the sparks that shot through the air. I want to reach up and soothe him, but my arms remain limp at my sides.
"Is she still breathing?" Blaise asks, looking forward again.
Ryder rests his forehead against mine, the heat of his breath warming my face.
"Yeah, she's breathing," he murmurs. "But she's still not moving."
"She'll be fine. We just need to get her to the station," Blaise insists. "Is Reece behind us?"
Ryder's breath puffs against my cheeks as he exhales. Then he leans back and peers behind us. "He's a ways back, but since the Tracker is dead, he should be okay."
They grow quiet after that as we race toward the city. The more the stillness settles amongst us, the quieter my heart becomes. I want to scream at the top of my lungs for someone to scare me again since the adrenaline rush seemed to keep me alive. However, my lips remain numbly fused together, and my eyelids eventually slip shut.
I wait to fall into a memory, but all I see is darkness.
Lots and lots of darkness.
Chapter 6
Borrowed Time
I remain floating in the darkness without a single memory manifesting. The emptiness makes me question if I'm dead. Perhaps the Kiss of Death was my kryptonite, the one thing that could kill me permanently. Maybe the Watchers knew that.
The idea that I could very well be dead unleashes an array of emotions inside of me. On the one hand, for selfish reasons, I don't want my life to be over. One being that I'm not ready to say good-bye to Ryder, Reece, and Blaise. After spending so many years alone in my cell with nothing but torture and madness, it felt good to be around kind, caring people; to have a human connection. Yet, I can't help feeling a drop of relief that I may no longer exist, knowing the world and everyone in it may be better off without me.
Will they really, though? a familiar voice whispers through the darkness.
