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I burn rubber, one foot on the ground as the engine roars and my back wheel kicks up dirt and grass, creating a small ditch in the lumpy earth.
My bare hand feels on fire as I twist the throttle to full speed.
I shoot forward, taking the first hill with ease, landing with a jarring thud that almost throws me off and will give me some major monkey butt. I did not land it right so now I’m frustrated. I spin on the spot, creating a circular rivet and then line myself up with the next slope.
I fly at it and catch air again, performing a whip, though not a full one because the slope didn’t give me enough height to work with. I land skewwhiff but correct it and keep going, ready for the next slope. This place is a biker’s dream, so many rocky paths and slopes to catch. The dirt is solid beneath a thin layer of wet, and the grass isn’t too long to maneuver through.
I rotate round, letting the sound of the engine overtake all my senses, and hit the biggest slope. But I snag, my chest feels tight as something hits me across the shoulders. The wind leaves my lungs and my bike goes forward as my body stays in the same place before slamming hard onto the ground on my back.
Can’t breathe.
I’ve been clotheslined.
I roll onto my side, spluttering for air as the pain in my chest and back intensifies. That’s going to hurt tomorrow. Fuck. It already does.
I can hardly breathe. I wasn’t expecting it. I knew I should have found a place with less trees. Though I don’t think a tree did this to me.
I look up at the sky through the dark shade of my helmet and try to steady my breathing.
I hear footsteps getting closer and voices getting louder.
“Howah!” one voice breathes. “It’s like a chick, cri.”
“You think she’s dead?”
A foot taps my helmet.
I close my eyes when one of them flips my visor up, revealing my eyes.
“I think she is.”
“F’reals?”
“I don’t know, I’m not a doctor.”
His fingers go to my wrist which I keep limp. “I can’t feel a pulse, but her chest is moving.”
When the second one crouches beside me and starts to unzip my leather jacket, I bring my booted foot up and kick the first one over, making them both scream with shock and terror. Then I bring my helmeted head up and into the nose of the one trying to unzip me.
I jump to my feet and race to where my bike landed in the dirt just a few meters ahead, ignoring the pain in my ribs and back. They both scramble around each other, taken by surprise at my quick movements.
“Hey! You’re not supposed to be here; this is private land!”
“You could have just told me that, you fucking assholes!” I shriek back but don’t stop.
I pick up my bike and sling a leg over it. I start the engine just as one of them reaches me and grabs my arm but it’s too late, I sail forward, dragging him with me for half a meter before he lets me go.
I power shift, almost fucking up my clutch, and put them as far behind me as I can.
That wasn’t supposed to happen. Those absolute fucktards. They could have killed me. I’m lucky they didn’t.
I ride home, swerving around cars, lorries, whatever the fuck is in my way.
“You’re back earlier than expected,” Mom says when I walk through the door, rage in every step I take. “And dirtier.”
I kick off my boots and drop my jacket on the floor. “I fucking hate it here.”
“Language,” she admonishes, her pale blue eyes narrowing with anger.
I say nothing else and stomp up the stairs and to my room. I haven’t unpacked. I don’t see the point. Everywhere we go is temporary. Mom’s job makes it so.
I pass my sister’s room where music hums through the door and wall. It’s shit music too so I play mine louder to drown it out, then I have a bath and wipe myself out with some extreme pain killers.
Those absolute dicks.
Who the fuck clotheslines somebody to get them off a bike? If they’d flagged me down, I’d have gone elsewhere. I’m not looking to start debating over who owns what land. I don’t really care. We’re on the banks of Columbia River, there’s nothing but land out here, not gonna be hard to find somewhere else to ride my bike.
Absolute dicks.
Gah.
I’m so mad.
I’m also sleepy.
I crash butt naked on the top of my covers and close my eyes. I’m going to feel so fucking groggy tomorrow, but I don’t care about that either.
A russet brown hand slams my locker closed, almost catching my fingers in the process. The hall around me stills and people move away but stay to watch the exchange.
