We drive for what feels like forever. My ass is numb and we long since left the forest behind. If I had to guess, I'm pretty sure it's been a couple of hours since we began driving.
Yes, hours. H-O-U-R-S. A full sixty minutes. Now multiply that by three and what do you get? A tired teenage girl wishing she had stayed in the woods where she wasn't about to tumble off of a moving vehicle accelerating at high speeds.
I have no idea how I pulled it off, but the group of people I have joined haven't noticed that their little friend has gone missing and was replaced by, guess who? Moi. I'm just glad that I haven't swerved off the road and pummeled into something with my stolen bike. Yet, anyway. At least don't have to worry about running into trees or shrubbery because they're nowhere to be seen, cleared away for the large structures known as skyscrapers that reach for the endless inky sky, towering over me like giants. They gleam like massive silverfish in the numerous lights lining the busy streets. The city.
I gasp despite anyone or anything hearing me. I don't remember the last time I've seen the city. But then again, I don't remember much of anything.
The buildings jutt out of the ground, surrounded by the millions of cars honking and driving in the packed streets. People mill around on the sidewalk, oblivious to the magnificent light show right above their heads. The whole place hums with artificial life, almost electrifying. It's overwhelming.
I'm brought back to reality when we take a sudden left onto a deserted interstate. And unexpectedly, we approach a large entourage of cars. A number of black vehicles encircle a square black van with the letters NYPD painted in white on its sides.
The New York Police Department? Why are we following the New York Police Department?
Wait, how do I know that?
Oh, never mind.
I trek behind as the group of motorcycles weave through the formation of cars. They all pull out these strange round… things and pop them onto the bumpers then race to the front. I do the same, not knowing what else to do. Someone in the head of our little batch, I suppose is the leader, holds out a small device with a bright red button. He presses a thumb against it and I finally understand.
Bombs. They're fucking bombs!
"Holy sh-" I say before an explosion sounds off behind me.
KA BOOM! Time seems to slow as the ground rocks under our wheels. I look back to see the cars shoot up into the air, billowing with smoke and glowing purple and green fire. They crash back to earth hard, skidding to jarring halts, squealing and screeching against each other. Flames streak against the asphalt as the untouched van rams the fallen remains of their companions. I catch a few screams from the said vehicle, muffled through the thick walls.
Holy motherfucking shit! What the hell just happened?!
We drive by the damage that was done without a second look. The men on their bikes rev backwards and swarm the van like livid hornets. A few more of the gang's buddies join us, cruising in strange three-wheeled cars.
Is that what that woman from earlier meant by the others meeting them there? How did I not see them before?
Two men rise up from these newcomers and hop onto the sides of the van. Somehow, they miraculously stay on. Their knees and hands cemented to the metal.
What the fuck?! I did not, repeat, DID NOT sign up for… whatever the hell this is.
The men gradually climb to the roof of the vehicle and unhook containers strapped around their shoulders and begin to cut away at the steel with some kind of blow torch looking devices. Sparks fly in a blur of orange and yellow around their heads.
This is crazy! What did I get myself into?!
I adjust my grip on my handlebars in uncertainly.
What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?!
Stay? Leave? Stop?
Oh, this is so wrong. This is so very, very wrong.
BA BA BA, BA BA BA BUM! A loud horn goes off behind us and with a sharp turn of my head, it reveals to be a large garbage truck that has arrived at the scene.
Garbage... truck?
This night just keeps getting better and better.
The truck gains on us in no time at all, barreling towards us like it is on a warpath. Out of the corner of my eye, something narrow and shining peeks out of the passenger window of the NYPD van. I've never seen a shotgun before, but I know for a goddamn fact that that's what it is. I don't look away from the new arrivals even with the weapon aimed near me, especially when the grill of the garbage truck instantly slides open and-
SHWOO! SHWOO!
Startled, I duck my head and something fast blows by my neck. I look up just in time to see said something spiral in the air and bounce off the man prowling on the side of the van. He falls like a ton of bricks, hanging by his knees. The gun is swiped away from a pair of hands when the spinning object connects with it and the shotgun clatters to the ground. The man on the other side is another victim as he too vents backwards when he's hit, flailing awkwardly upside down. The two projectiles hit the ground with ringing, metallic thuds. I take the quickest of glances to see that they are, in fact, manhole covers.
FUCKING MANHOLE COVERS?! Oh, you've got to be shitting me!
"Get back there and take 'em out." The leader of this motorcycle raid shouts up ahead of me. The others nod their heads in unison and do a full 180, charging the truck head on. This time, I don't follow suit. There is a fine line between bravery and stupidity and I like to think that I'm smart enough to know which side I prefer to be on. Most of the time, at least.
I watch in awestruck as both cars and motorcycles alike attempt to take down the truck. The three wheelers drive close, showing off sharp weapons sticking out of their hub caps that could slice a human in half, let alone a fat tire.
They're toast for sure. I think worriedly.
Whoa there! Slow your role! Did I just admit to being concerned for these hotshots?
Hell no!
…
Yes, yes I did… shit!
But little did I know that it was for nothing because one second their poor wheels are on the verge of being shredded rubber, and the next, giant mechanical arms split out of the sides of the truck and bash the cars like tin cans.
My jaw drops open.
What the hell?!
Okay, I really need to stop asking myself that.
The machines wave around, swiveling like the arms of a toy robot. If I didn't know any better, I would say that they were dancing in victory. That is, they were right before they smashed into an overhead bridge with a big BANG! Bits and pieces of rocks crumble down with hunks of rusted yellow metal, no longer jumping for joy. I grimace.
Whoops.
The motorcycles move in, substituting for their fallen comrades. One in particular slips out yet another one of those cylinder-like objects aka bombs and places it on the fender.
Oh no. Not again!
Tik tik... BOOM! Another explosion erupts at the head of the truck. Blue flames engulf the windshield in a canvas of violent hues. I can hear the occupants inside yelp in shock. But somehow, the vehicle holds its own, and without any major bikes trail behind the truck for another attack when something, actually someone, jumps out the back chute of the trash compactor. Spinning like a top, the figure punches out two bikers and hops on another in just one leap. Banging their head against the poor rider's helmet, the driver rolls away and the new passenger pops a wheelie, whooping and cheering gleefully as he stands on the seat and jumps right back into the garbage truck, the bike abandoned.
Wow. Just, wow...
Where the fuck did these people come from?
All the while, I hear something else, something distant and far off. But it's catching up and fast.
whoop whoop Whoop Whoop WHOOP!
A shadow casts upon us and wind pushes down as if forcing the air to press on me. I look up to see an oval body, two parallel steel legs, and a spinning blur. A helicopter. As if an army of cars and motorcycles isn't enough. Of course, it's not. For what purpose exactly, I still have no clue.
Does anyone else want to join our little party? How about the fucking Titanic!
The chopper hovers above the van like an overgrown buzzard. A rope lowers down with something round and dark at the end of it. My eyebrows bunch together in question.
What is that thing?
My question is answered as it attaches itself to the top of the car. Surprisingly, the two hitchhikers managed to get up straight and had finished their job of sawing away at the van's top. They lead the object in place and the chopper yanks upward.
It's a big ass magnet.
The backside of the van lifts off the ground and then…
BONG!
The top snaps right off and the car strikes back to earth, hard. The aircraft drifts away slightly as yet another rope drops down, now inside the vehicle. Not a second later, a man dressed in orange clings to the other end like a fish on a hook.
I realize that he's the main inhabitant of the NYPD. And in this case, he must be the criminal. A powerful, dangerous criminal. That would explain the armada of cars we blew up, the motorcycles fending off the garbage truck, and the last but certainly not least tactic, the helicopter to fish out the said criminal.
This isn't some surprise ambush. This is an escape, an orchestrated escape of a prison inmate, one in which requires maximum security. And I am in the smack dab middle of it.
Sweat prickles my back bone as this turn of events hits me.
This isn't good. This is not good!
A sudden flash of silver catapults outwards and slashes the rope holding the criminal in two. The man bumps into the roof and falls off to the back, hanging by his hands onto the van, but he composes himself rather quickly by reaching up and pulling himself to his feet. Goddamn! That was close.
During this whole escapade, I have been in a mild to extreme state of shock. Having been able to stay on my seat without any troubles at all is enough for me to say that I'm very much in one piece. But I'm still in this daze when the door of the van lashes open and a being tumbles out. Rolling like a tumbleweed, he grunts as he surges away from me. He later stops some yards behind me, his limbs bent at odd angles and motionless. He's unconscious. And right in the garbage truck's path!
I don't think, I just do. I veer in a sharp turn, my wheels squealing, and dash to his aid until I tower over him. I jump off the bike and grab his hands vigorously, pulling his deadweight with much difficulty. I push my feet into the ground, using all of my will power to move him inch by inch. The truck doesn't plan on stopping, and neither will I. I'm almost out of the way when the truck blares at me.
It's getting closer!
I try going faster, panting heavily with exertion. Just a few more feet.
The truck is now closing the gap between us at the speed of light. In a matter of seconds, we'll be pancakes!
With a final burst of energy, I haul the man off the street and we collapse. The truck rushes by in a giant blur of green and yellow, it's giant tires a full two inches away from cutting off my toes. It zooms off and away, and even when it's gone
I let out a shaky breath.
That… was… intense.
I sit for a second, my chest heaving, my hands shaking in my lap. I try to calm myself.
The garbage truck and van move so fast that in a matter of seconds they are nothing but blurry dots in the distance.
My eyes catch sight of my motorcycle. It lays on its side carelessly, gleaming in the light of a nearby lamppost. I throw off the helmet sitting askew on my head and stuff my face into my hands, not wanting to hear or see anything else.
This whole night has been nothing but an emotional, insane roller coaster. What with all of the cars, explosions, helicopters, robot arms. This is too much!
"Aaaaaaaaarrggghhh!" I scream out. I throw back my head as my voice raves out, screaming until my neck is sore and my throat is raw. I finally stop and slam my forehead into my knees.
This is way too goddamn much!
Peeking out of the corner of my eye, the man lays in a very uncomfortable position. But his breathing is loud and steady, although that doesn't mean he's not gonna suffer after some win jury unbeknownst to me.
He's lucky I was there to save him or else he would've been roadkill with me included.
I sigh heavily, closing my eyes and concentrating on the black behind my eyelids.
Too much. It's just too much.
"Excuse me, miss?" A sudden voice says above.
I jerk up and my eyes widen until they threaten to fall out of their sockets. Now parked in front of me, the garbage truck from earlier has returned. No longer bolting like a race car, it shows to be a lot bigger than I had expected.
How come I didn't hear it?
Oh, yeah. That's right. I was having a meltdown and therefore a little too preoccupied to notice a grown ass truck to pull up to the curb. And standing right in front of me, right in front of me, are four giant turtles.
That's it! I'm nuts!
They all stand on their back legs, looking to be almost 7 feet tall. 7 FEET TALL!
I'm seriously nuts!
All of them are broad and big, muscular. They wear ratty trousers with tons of padding and leather straps crossing their plastrons. Each is donned in a color-coded mask; red, orange, purple, and blue.
Totally nuts!
One leans down to my eye level. Their eyes a stunning shade of blue. His features are soft and caring. A kind smile graces his green lips.
"Are you alright?" He asks in a sweet voice. One could melt in his very presence with a voice like that.
And what do I do, you may ask? Do I swoon over those impossibly gorgeous eyes? Do I sigh at the tranquility and absolute smoothness of his masculine, hair-raisingly amazing voice?
Well, I… fucking lose it! I scream, screaming as loud as my throat can go while ripping a few vocal cords while I was at it. And I run, running as fast as my legs could carry me. With my arms pumping at my sides, I sprint in a blind fit. I can't hear anything behind me over my screams, but there is no doubt in my mind that they're staring after me in stunned silence.
Maybe they'll leave me alone. Maybe they'll leave me alone to race through the streets like a fucking psycho freak who just saw a quartet of giant turtles who just so happen to be attractive.
Leave me alone leave me alone leave me alone!
They're not running after me! I'm saved!
My feet suddenly go out and I'm hefted off the ground. A pair of arms struggle to contain me.
I stand corrected.
"NO! LET ME GO!" I shout as I furiously kick and pound my fists like an angry toddler against rock-hard muscle and bone, not caring if I'm making a scene. It doesn't matter what these… things think of me when I'm running away from them.
"Miss, calm down! Please!" The turtle creature says as he walks back.
Oh God. It's the handsome one. Why did it have to be him?
No! No. He's not handsome. He's not handsome. He couldn't be. He can't be!
It's just that… he's… he's… he's just a male!
Yeah! A male. A male in which I haven't met or seen sinceI've woken up and my raging teenage hormones are taking over my senses and convincing me that he is good looking.
Yeah. That's it. That's it!
I thrash in his strong embrace, twisting and squirming to be free, but he has other intentions. Rushed words pass through the four as we approach them. I don't dare look.
NO! This cannot be happening! This is crazy! I'm crazy!
The familiar feeling of pain somehow makes its way to my senses. Something sharp is stabbed into my flesh and a deep ache courses through my arm, a fluid as cold as ice. The moment it's there, it's gone. The adrenaline that once flowed through my veins is replaced with something sober, something heavy and chilled. My body, as if forced, relaxes and I suddenly feel tired. I am no longer strong enough to fight. My shrieks seize to a stop until I murmur strings of unintelligent sentences.
"No... please... let, go..." I say, my voice thick and slurred.
Ever so slowly, the large turtle loosens his grip on me and cradles me to his chest. My eyelids are now way too heavy for me to hold up. Through my bleary vision, I catch those dazzling blue orbs once again. So calming. So tranquil. So…
I never get to finish my thought as I am enveloped in darkness.