Destroyer - The Death Cure (Book 3)

Chapter 2: Adrenaline Junky

Alex had her helmet on, her black leather jacket she found in a raid a few months ago, riding full speed down the highway on a black motorcycle she had claimed as hers; another thing she had found in the raid, just abandoned in a garage.

Jorge surprisingly knew how it worked and used to ride. He taught her how to after Alex begged him. She loved those afternoons with Jorge. He didn't pry, didn't take her snappy sarcastic remarks personally, and could keep up with her sass. He cared about her, but he didn't smother her. And Alex appreciated that. He allowed her to be who she was. When she crossed a line he called her on it and left it at that, didn't chastise or scold her like a child. Jorge treated her like an equal and Alex viewed him as one of three adults she respected and trusted. Captain Ronin and Dr Prior being the others.

Riding was an adrenaline rush for Alex. In the Maze running was her escape, now it was riding. It made her feel free, and feeling free made her feel safe. And safe is something she never felt anymore.

WICKED's attack haunted her, every night she could hear Minho screaming. She blamed herself. If only she was faster, if she knew how to use her strength, if she hadn't hesitated watching the electricity jump around her body. Almost every night Chris's crank form would invade her nightmares; clawing, hurting, touching, ripping her clothes. Her own crank self would then show up after she was bloody bruised and used, and would laugh, telling Alex she was worthless and remind her of all her failours.

If she rode fast enough, she could out run her fears and demons. Right?

She revved her bike engine and took a turn faster than she ever had before. She could feel the angry hopeless tears threatening to fall, she felt the burning prickling. She ground her teeth and growled. She refused to cry. She hadn't cried since the early morning on the mountain ledge after They took Minho. Her face was heating up, her lungs were burning.

No. Don't do this now. Keep it together, shuck face.

Thomas had shown Alex the map and where they were going the night before. They were headed to a small town half a day's ride through the mountains. They were to get there before their target, get set up and then intercept the trucks.

A voice crackled in her helmet. "Alex! Slow the shuck down! You're going to get yourself killed! And I'm going to stand at your funeral and laugh!" Thomas scolded in her ear.

Alex smiled and revved her engine again.

"Challenge accepted, Tommy."

"Dammit Alex! That wasn't a challenge! You shuck adrenaline junkie!" He yelled in her ear.

"I said: challenge accepted, shuck face!" Alex replied.

"When you crash and die in a fiery explosion I'm going to stand at your funeral and tell you 'I told you so'!" he cried exasperated.

Alex took another turn so sharp she was only a few inches from the asphalt, and whispered into her com, "Promise Tommy?"

She could hear another exasperated sigh, and Harriet laughing in the background.

__________________

Alex was the first to arrive at their rondevu point. She got herself ready while she waited for the rest of the team. She pulled out her knives one by one and double checked them, twirling each in her hands. She pulled her hand gun out, ejected the magazine, made sure it was good and put it back together, and double checked her backpack. She saw the trucks finally pull up. And the little personal Berg they hijacked last month, overhead. Brenda, Newt, Kenzie and Finn climbed out.

Kenzie and Finn were siblings. They had rescued them about four months ago, along with about 20 other children. During a raid, The Right Arm had stopped a few WICKED trucks full of supplies. When they were checking the backs, Alex swung open the last truck's cover and found that WICKED had all 20 kids gagged and bound.