Karta Stryker

Chapter 8: Voice In The Fire

I went up to the Breakout and checked if she still had any fuel in her. I got onto the bike and gestured for Arcadia to sit on the back of the bike.

"The hell is that?" Arcadia asked.

"A motorbike? You're telling me you've never seen one." I grinned, even if for only a moment.

Arcadia sighed.

"Does this thing take us somewhere? Where are we even going?" Arcadia asked.

"Look, I don't know." I spat.

Awkward silence sat between Arcadia and I, both clearly heated.

"We have to find the other Elementals, but I have no idea where to start looking." I said.

"We're both tired, and we just had a fight, which I'm surprised we're even still alive considering Reptilialas were part of the problem." Arcadia groaned.

"They're not as unkillable as people lead them to be." I said.

"Thats not my point, I'm saying we need rest." Arcadia said.

She did make a solid argument, and I haven't slept since being run out of my store.

"Okay, we'll find somewhere to sleep." I sighed, soon followed by a shrug.

I turned the ignition on the Breakout, quickly eyeing off the signs that pointed towards the closest town. I slowly released the clutch, bringing the bike to a calm crawl before taking off into the distance.

***

After a couple of hours, we finally made it to a motor inn. It looked run down and cheap, but it was a lot better than nothing. Arcadia fell asleep on my back on the way here, obviously exhausted from the fighting. She must not have cared that she was laying on my back. I gave her a gentle shove on the elbow, gesturing toward the inn. She mumbled inaudibly, before getting off of the bike.

We walked into the roadhouse reception, in which the atmosphere was much brighter, and lacked the greasy, oily smell of the workshop. There were heated glass boxes, storing many hot foods such as meat pies and sausage rolls. With a soda vendor on the side, I walk up to it with my loose change.

"Want a drink?" I asked, flipping the dollar coin with my thumb.

"Don't think I've ever had any of these before." Arcadia seemed puzzled looking at all of the drinks.

"Give lemonade a try?" I asked.

"Lemon-warde?" Arcadia raised an eyebrow and curled the top right corner of her lip as she completely mispronounced lemonade.

"It's soft drink. Think of water, but like, bubbly and sweeter."

I dialed in the vendor to get a bottle of lemonade out, costing a total of 5 dollars, but I only had 4 dollars and 50 cents.

"Dammit, not enough change. Who the fuck pays 5 dollars for soda anyways..." I mumbled.

The presence in the room suddenly shifted, and felt like a third, powerful figure was standing in the room. Walking past us, a man in a black leather jacket and grey denim jeans with an Adidas duffel bag stepped intently, but with his body facing a perpendicular direction to mine. He gets his hand out of the front pocket of his hoodie, which was covered by a black, fingerless cotton glove.

"It's on the house." The man said.

"Thanks..?" Arcadia slowly croaked.

"Don't mention it." The man said.

I put the last 50 cent coin into the vendor, dropping the two bottles we dialed in hasty response.

"Cheers." I smiled, knocking the lid cap of my bottle with Arcadia's lemonade.