Clad in black leather from top to toe, the dark visor of the full helmet he wore hid his features as thoroughly as though he were covered by a pitch-black, midnight sky.
He was hidden from view, blending into the environment, as he waited patiently for his prey. Patience was a necessity, for the warrior on the hunt, as surely he was. He stilled as though he scented his prey in the wind.
Hannah walked briskly, the slight limp the only hint of her struggle to regain her former mobility. A cane was still clutched in one hand, but more as a mental crutch now, than the physical one it once was.
Intrigued by his prey, he continued watching, allowing her a few more moments of freedom. Then he eased his motorcycle forward. Almost lazily, he guided his motorcyle around her, alternating between circles and figure eights, taunting her. Deftly, he knocked the cane out of her hands, the cane that she'd been brandishing at him, as easily as though she'd been a helpless baby.
She realized, too late, that he'd isolated her from anyone that might have been able to help her. And she wasn't sure if she could maintain a run, even if she did manage to get away from the virtual cage that he'd wrought around her. On that motorcycle, he seemed to be everywhere she tried to escape to. Finally she stopped, hoping that he would also stop. Perhaps she could make a break for the trees when he did.
Balancing perfectly on the motorcycle, he made a run for her, and grabbed her with his left arm as he passed her, tossing her on the seat behind him. She screamed in terror, and started to hit him. But he accelerated, and she clutched him tightly, struggling to stay on. He held on to her with his left arm until he was certain she was safe. He caressed her left leg with his gloved hand, before reaching for the handlebar, taking off for parts unknown.
Despite the terror she'd felt when he'd first tossed her on the motorcycle, she began to feel surprisingly safe. He was in perfect control of the motorcycle as he made his way up the mountain road. The smooth braking and leaning as he went into each curve, and the equally smooth acceleration out of them, eased her fears a little, at least for while she was on the motorcycle.
He pulled into the driveway of an isolated cabin. She hopped off the motorcycle as soon as she could and tried to run, but he was too quick for her, grabbing her by the waist. Then he pulled off his helmet. She stared at him for a split second. "Colby!" She stormed at him. He threw back his head and laughed. She tried to shove him, but he was too strong for her. Still laughing, he tossed her over his shoulder and headed into the cabin.