Chapter 62 – Keep on Running

October 9, 2004 = Saturday

~Eliza Flores~

As the tram neared the bottom, I saw that the parking lot was filling up with motorcycles. I recognized most as Anarchs I had once rode with, but there were more of them than were at the Trial.

A lot more.

Thinking I was going to have to explain Nines' absence, I began to go over my speech that we had been attacked and Nines hadn't made it. I figured them to be upset, maybe even hostile, but I figured them to not want to attack me. Nines said I was getting a rep for kicking ass and I had to hope that meant that they didn't want to risk getting killed.

I could hope anyway.

Still, as the tram entered the station and the doors opened, I felt some apprehension in meeting the Anarchs. Without my powers all the feats I had amassed since my embrace meant nothing and I was little more than just a thin blood with a stolen rep.

"You little bitch," one of the kindred spat at me as I came out of the station. "You fucking killed Nines!"

"I did no such thing," I told him but he just snarled and moved forward.

"Get her!" another shouted as they rushed me.

Dropping into a combat crouch, I tried to be ready for their attack. I no more got my knees bent before I was being yanked off my feet entirely by a kindred holding my arms behind my back. A kindred with a large blade stood in front of me, grinning like he was going to enjoy disemboweling me. I kicked him right in the nose, then shifted my weight and flipped backwards over the man holding me to break his grip.

The light then become blotted out as they tried to dogpile on top, but I rolled in between one guys legs and began to crawl out. Grunts and the raining of blows on flesh didn't even come close to drowning out the howling of whatever kindred was getting the punishment they figured I deserved which allowed me to crawl out of the back of the pack.

Once free, I ran to the motorcycles and hopped on one closest to the edge. It was an old school type ride that didn't even have a key, just a switch and a kickstarter. I slipped on it as fast as I could, switched it to run and hit the kickstarter to bring the motor to life.

"Hey! She's getting away!" someone yelled as I dropped into a gear and opened the throttle to peel out of there. Whatever mass scramble they had while getting to their bikes was lost to me over the roar of the Harley as I headed down an unknown street in the early morning.

For a few minutes at least it was just me as I roared down the street at full speed. The whine of more engines made me turn around in the seat to see a see of hate following me. Knowing that if I didn't face this threat head-on somehow, I was going to get yanked off my bike.

With a sigh of determination, I braked hard to fall back into the pack. The pack wasn't expecting it, and the first thing I did was kick one of them into a lightpost. The twang was loud but quickly faded as he connected, wrecking his bike and taking him out of the fight.

Another on my other side pulled a club and hit me in the arm. I dove in as he swung, turning out at just the right time for his bike to ramp off my tires. With the momentum of his swing and the ramping off my tires, he went screwy and wiped out when he landed.

I kept up the fight in a likewise manner, putting a few more down as I fought to get away. The Anarchs started to keep their distance, giving me some breathing room to check the sky. It was already starting to pink, telling me I was down to my final hour.

Unfortunately, removing my eyes from the road for even a brief moment caused me to miss the car that pulled out in front of me and blocked the road. I hit the car at over a hundred, immediately flipping over the handlebars and went rolling down the street. I raised my arms to protect my face, finally coming to a stop hundreds of feet away.

The other bikers stopped their swarm along the side, and the man in the car stepped out. He was well dressed, and kindred, and he carried a stake in one hand and a sword in the other. He got closer, a wicked smile on his face, and I got shakily to my feet.

"It's our catch, fuckface," one of the bikers snarled, getting between me and the newcomer.

"I wrecked my car to stop her!" the newcomer snapped back. "I expect some compensation!"

"Your problem," one of the bikers said as the others ringed me. I knew there was no way I could take the whole group a second time, and figured I was about to die when a jean clad figured just appeared in front of me.

"To Hollywood with the lot of you," Michele's French accent ordered the group. "We are letting the Cammies deal with their own mistakes."

"But she's right there," one of the bikers yelled at Michele. Michele then moved so fast that she disappeared and reappeared with a rapier in hand, the tip against the biker's nose that had his finger pointed at me.

"I said, 'To Hollywood,' now," Michele reiterated with her presence in full sway. "Damsel has to pick up a package in Glendale, then she will join us. If you move one finger so much as to harm Eliza, I will ash you right here and now."

That seemed to sway the bikers back onto their bikes, but if looks could kill they'd have incinerated me three times over. Still, they followed Michele's order and left as a group, disappearing around a corner as they headed for Isaac's territory. That just left me, Michele and the newcomer, the latter grinning as he figured he had easy money.

"And now you are all mine," he said as his fingers shifted on the stake.

"Leave now and you may live," Michele threatened the newcomer.

"Like I follow your words now, you traitorous bitch," he growled. Since I was looking at him and readying myself for the attack, I saw Michele just appear behind him again, much as she had when she threatened the biker, but her sword never seemed to have left her side.

And just that fast, it was down to me and Michele as the stake and sword clattered to the ground as the guy fell into a pile of ash.

"Run fast, mon cherie," she told me as the screech of tires alerted me to more cars coming sideways around a far corner. "You may find me at the Luckee Star Motel in Hollywood."

"Thanks," I said as I started to run for the car left behind by the now dead kindred. Michele disappeared as I slid into the driver's seat, the car still running. I threw it in drive and peeled out, the throaty roar of the Mercedes telling me the guy hadn't skimped on the engine.

I continued to run from the cars chasing me, the speed of the Mercedes helping to keep me ahead of my pursuers. When they did catch up, the ever brightening sky giving me an ever increasing picture of what was to come, I could see my pursuers were better dressed, likely Toreador and Ventrue.

The sound of my Mercedes getting bumped was loud in my ears, and the back end wiggled as a result of being rammed. I managed to recover the car, but I was coming into Santa Monica and knew I was running out of ground. I knew I would eventually lose if I kept running as either I would crash or the sun would burn me.

Just about as suddenly as I entered Santa Monica, I ran out of road at a T-junction. Unable to turn sharply due to speed, I kept on in a straight line out a pier. Thankfully, at this early hour no one was on it and I was able to run straight out the end, through the railing and into the water.

Hitting the water at speed was a chaotic nightmare as I was thrown against the windshield, either my head or the water breaking it to allow even more water in as the car sank. A look through the rear glass showed that my pursuers were stuck on the beach, cursing me as the car sank beneath the waves to obscure them in a black-green haze as the sun brightened into dawn.

The car hit the bottom before completely filling up, prompting me to wait. Without my potence, I couldn't escape the pressure the ocean was exerting on the car. Once the car filled and the pressure lessened, I easily pushed the door open. Inhaling the sea water kept me from floating, and I started at an angle away from the car in case they sent someone after me to recover the car, hoping I would die as I was exposed to the sun.

I walked on until I found my way blocked by the remains of an old wreck, the small boat laying on its side. I climbed inside and opened an old locker, settling myself inside. Knowing I'd be safe from the sun, I shut myself in just as a wave of sleep hit me. With nothing left to keep me up, I allowed myself to drift off to sleep.