Deathrun

VII. Couldn't Catch Me

I stare straight up at the ceiling of a small room, unmoving. 

The ceiling is bumpy, so unlike the sleek white of the compound. I'm sore, but nothing hurts too bad. I really goddamn hope this is not a dream. Not hearing any sounds of alarm, I sit up, proceed to fall out of bed. I lunge on breaking legs towards what seems to be a bathroom. The bowl of a toilet greets me, and I empty the contents of my stomach.

When I stand and face the mirror, I'm granted an unpleasant sight. My dark skin is patched and bruised purple in multiple places, my bandaged arm swollen at my side. Brown curls fly in every direction, and with a scowl, I tie them back ferociously.

Someone has dressed me in loose grey clothing.

I pad silent and barefoot to the door and release a breath of relief when it comes away unlocked. The nurses always locked us in after dark. It drove me crazy.

With this discovery, my heart begins thumping strong again as I step out into the threadbare carpeted hallway. I pass multiple people in uniform, some conversing quietly and glancing in my direction. I steel my gaze ahead and stride with purpose. They leave me be.

The further I walk from my room, the more sounds begin to filter through the walls. Distinct shouts, a babbling radio broadcast, the hiss of machinery... I backtrack and follow the smell of gasoline. The carpet stops and I stride across hard concrete, bits of dirt sticking to my calloused feet. I listen for the hum of engines and step out from a large doorway.

An immense hangar, hundreds of feet up.

PORT NORSAROC in big letters on the top, and on every vehicle logo.

Large, rolling machines grinding slowly across the floor. Shouts of engineers as they wave cranes to and fro. Elevated cars with sparks flying from their underbellies as they are examined. No one pays me any attention as I walk through the aisles of spare parts and tools. Brown uniforms bustle around me, goggles on heads, papers in hands, tool belts slung around hips.

I catch sight of the motorcycles and frown.

With a spine of steel, I head towards them. I catch sight of the only rider, helmet on his head, for once out of uniform and not with his ass on a sports bike. With eyes like blades, I grab his shoulder and whirl him around, slamming him against the wall.

"Couldn't catch me this time, mm, Jaz?" I hiss, pouring all my fury into these words. "Too fast for you? You shouldn't have followed me across that bloody chasm because all you're going to receive from now on is pure he-"

"Angel West?" a voice chirps from behind me. I turn my head, elbow still on Jaz's throat. A small, slightly plump lady looks up at me, her platinum hair a perfect bob. "I wouldn't hurt him if I were you." I turn back to face the dark visor, squinting to try and make out deadly golden eyes beneath.

Slowly, the rider reaches up and unclicks his helmet, pulling it over his head. I'm met with dark blue.

Not gold. 

Not Jaz.