I woke about three hours later to find the others still discussing why we'd been let out. They were no closer to figuring it out than they had been three hours ago, except for determining the man in the blue suit had something to do with it. I woke up to hear Olivia saying, "Kinda like the G-men in Ireland back in the thirties."

I yawned and sat up.

"I miss anything?" I asked them, grabbing a bar of chocolate from the box of food. Heidi and I shared it.

"Nah nothing really. Had a minor scrap with a couple of antlions, surprised that didn't wake you, but we've not seen any Combine." I was told.

"So... this G-man guy..."

We were making decent progress; while we wouldn't reach the house today, we'd easily be able to make it by tomorrow. Though, if everything had gone to plan, we'd already be there.

The fuel tank was running pretty low, and we were tired and hungry, so we decided to stop in a small village for a drink. We were less worried about the Combine, now that a truce had been declared.

Everyone has a vice. That pointless thing that they just have to do, that habit, that possession, that action. I have two main ones.

One, of course, is smoking. There's not much that I love more than sitting outside with my girlfriend, watching the sunset and having a cigarette.

The other is traveling in style.

Now, granted, I've never been the epitome of cool. I've never owned all the best or coolest stuff. However, I've always done my best to look awesome. Driving the RX-8 was a necessity, even in this global disaster. My outfit was important, it was for the look. All these things, no matter the setting, no matter how trivial, were crucial to me.

Thus when an old man offered us two red speed bikes in the cafe of a small town, I couldn't refuse.

The cafe was back in business, with much of the town (about fifteen people) congregated in there. We went in to grab a snack, a drink and to hear any news. The Combine hadn't hit this town at all, I guess it was just too small, but that didn't stop the residents from being terrified. The upside of this was that we were able to carry our weapons with us. James and I with shotguns, Heidi with an Uzi and Olivia with an M4. If I hadn't been so exhausted (still) I might have found it comical, my girlfriend carrying an Uzi, my best friend with a shotgun casually on his back, and his girlfriend getting the hang of handling an assault rifle.

Needless to say, no one messed with us. We got a table, ordered some drinks, and talked.

"I would kill for a toke right now..." muttered James. I laughed hollowly,

"You don't need to, you've got a fuck ton in the car."

"Good point. You keen for a session?"

"I've just driven halfway across the countryside, killed countless aliens, almost died several times; of course I'm keen for a sesh."

"Shall we go?"

"Nah. I wanna finish my drink. And I won't have much; I gotta drive. And there's always the threat of Combine. And aliens. And other ungodly creatures."

We continued with our drinks. A few minutes later, I heard a voice.

"Excuse me, young men."

I turned around, hand resting on my shotgun. It was an old man, shabbily dressed and seemingly unarmed.

"What do you want, old man?" demanded James. The man smiled.

"The name's Steve." he said. I groaned, it was so cliché. "I'm wondering if perhaps you're interested in a bit of a business deal."

I looked at James. He looked at me. Heidi and Olivia looked at us.

"Have a seat." I said.

Steve led us to his garage. The place was a mess, tools and car parts made it almost impossible to move around. It was dark and smelled awful. In the middle, however, were two bright red, immaculate speed bikes. I had to have them.

"Do they work?"

"Of course they work." snapped the man. He started them both and revved them. The sound was orgasmic.

"How much?" James asked. He looked as psyched as I felt.

"A shotgun. Enough rounds to take down a small army." the man said stonily, "And an ounce of your finest Mary Jane."

"Hm. An ounce? That's a lot." I lied,

"Yeah, we haven't got very much." agreed James. Both of us shot a look at our respective girlfriends. They knew what we were doing.

"Do we do it?" I asked James,

"I think we do. Blazing is fun, but we need these bikes."

"Steve, you've got a deal." I told the man, "Shotgun driving one first."

"Shotgun the other one." interjected Olivia, grinning at James.

"What about helmets, and leathers and stuff?" asked Heidi, the only sensible one.

"I'll throw in all that stuff for an extra half O."

"Done." she said.

Half an hour later, having decided not to smoke any weed yet, we set off, James driving the RX-8 with Heidi, Olivia and I on our new motorbikes.

There was a long, straight stretch of road ahead of us. James pulled into the middle of the road with Olivia and I on either side. I smiled at Heidi through the window. She was smoking. Damn she's beautiful.

We gunned it.

My only experience of a motorcycle is the moped I used to own. It had a top speed of about 60 km, 70 in a huge tail wind. This motorbike got to 100 in probably about five seconds. It was intense. James was struggling to keep up as we neared 200 km.

There were no Combine. There was no mass genocide. No Dr Breen. Not even Heidi. Nothing existed apart from my bike, my road and myself. There'd never been anything else, I'd always done this. I would always do this.

I don't know how long we drove like that. Eventually I caught hold of myself and we slowed down to about 160, but that was still extreme.

Night fell, and despite being exhausted, we kept driving. Heidi had taken over Olivia's bike, and James was still driving the RX-8. It got to about 9:30, and the sky was dark.

I'm not sure what caused me to lose control. James says it was a pothole, Olivia and Heidi just saw me stumble and fishtail, before coming off and flying several meters, then slide several more. I don't remember much, except for being airborne, in a lot of pain, then darkness.

It's a bit dry, and it's been a while since I last uploaded. I've been busy. The next chapter will be better, and sooner.