Sebastian 'Bash' Walker is a partying Good-Time bloke who landed a full ride scholarship from out of The Bush of the outback in Australia to Magnolia Falls University. Magnolia Falls is located in Cajun Country, Louisiana USA where the food is hot...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I'm terrified. My thoughts both whiz around and focus, like I can think a thousand thoughts within a millisecond.
I'm both afraid to look back at the car gaining on us and afraid to not look.
I know we are well over one hundred miles an hour, if Bash were to spill the motorcycle or we were to get hit, we would no doubt be killed.
"Hold on!" I hear his voice yell over the blaring motor, so I squeeze tighter and force my eyes firmly shut as the motorcycle leans so far to the side that I feel the gusts of wind funneling between my knee cap and the pavement of the road.
We've turned sharp onto a side road and Bash shifts back up to fourth gear. I brave a second look and watch as a dark-colored Sudan comes to a screeching halt then burns rubber to join us on the side road, confirming indeed we are being followed.
We fly over a narrow bridge, the dark surroundings melting into blurred lines of dark colors due to our speed.
I glance back again and scream when the nose of the car is not a foot away from the back tire, "GO!" I yell.
"We're turning, lean!" he yells back, so I lean to the left as we take another sharp turn, returning to the main straightaway and blowing right past a stop sign.
I check the car over my shoulder and see the turn has allowed us to gain some space, but the car accelerates quickly.
Suddenly, we leave the roadway and pull into a gas station illuminated by bright lights and full of cars and semis fueling up. Bash skids to a stop practically in the front entrance and jumps off the bike grabbing my wrist and yanking me off the running motorcycle and into the gas station.
"Do you have the gun?!" He yells, his helmet cracking into the front of mine as we twist around at the entrance of the gas station.
"Wha- NO! I don't fucking have it!"
Bash turns and makes for the door, as I hear the attendant behind the plexiglass yell at us. "Wait! Bash! What are you doing!?"I scream and grip his arm with my sweaty hands.
He yanks his arm out of my grasp and spins back around, gripping my shoulders, "Call the police!" Then his wild eyes behind the visor of his helmet flash over to the attendant, "Call the police! NOW!"
Bash twists back around, slams back through the swinging door, and mounts his motorcycle, just as the dark-coloredSudan slows on the shoulder of the straightaway, rolling past the gas station. The second Bash fishtails his bike from the sidewalk, the car takes off and Bash gives chase.
"Umm, oh my God, umm," I pace, feeling my shorts for my cell phone then hear the attendant speaking on the phone. My eyes lift to the old petite woman holding a shotgun, looking out the window as Bash and the car disappear into the darkness out of sight. "Lemme, talk to them!" I yell at her and rip the helmet off.
