Her speed wasn’t dropping fast enough, though, not for the traffic around her, not enough for the next intersection just a few shops down. The cars might have been slaloms built to hinder her progress, and she knew her luck would soon run out. A wreck loomed with every vehicle she approached.
She dodged the slow-moving cars, her breath coming in hurried gasps.
The green light ahead switched to yellow, a red beacon of death to follow after.
Lila would not be able to speed through the intersection again, but she still zipped forward too quickly to stop.
Thinking quickly, Lila crossed several lanes of traffic and swung to the right-hand lane, turning sharply. She cut off a skittish car, and her knee almost tapped the asphalt in front of it.
She nearly lost control.
She gripped the handlebar all that much tighter when she did not.
Merging with traffic, Lila downshifted into fourth, her speed still too fast for the cars around her, too fast for the intersections spaced far too close. Unfortunately, the street she had been forced onto was not built for much beyond a slow crawl at such a late hour of the morning.
Threading in between the vehicles, Lila yelped as her rearview mirror shattered and flew off, decapitated by a car’s side mirror. Both smacked against her hand, leaving her bones throbbing, glass and metal shards ricocheting off her jacket and helmet with a few dull plinks. The handlebar wrenched to the left and almost twisted her off course with the impact.
Correcting her course, she vainly searched for a side street, one without an interaction so soon after the last. She endured a half-dozen honks and a dozen middle fingers, as well the catcalls of the workborn on the sidewalk. The women and men wore cheap, puffy coats in bright colors, laughing and calling out to their friends. They pulled out their palms, those who had enough money to own them, for all had the same idea.
Film her when she crashes.
Sell it to the media.
Cash out on the net.
It would serve the rich bitch right.
Up ahead, a line of cars braked before the next intersection, ready to turn.
Lila was still going too fast. Thinking quickly, she rode her Firefly up a handicapped ramp and zoomed over the sidewalk, taking the corner.
Pedestrians shouted and cursed. Their palms and shopping bags flew into the air as they scrambled to get away from the speeding bike.
Her body jostled harshly as she landed on the next street.
Lila downshifted once more, too frightened to laugh at their confusion, her hand throbbing harder and harder. Her bike joined traffic toward the downtown bridge. Brakes squealed as cars crawled forward, impatient drivers cycling constantly between stop and go.
She had to stop too, but she was trapped in a sea of guardrails and cars and brick storefronts, all threatening to crush her. They were her only options, though, not unless she wanted to launch herself from the bridge and go for a swim fifty meters below.
The water’s impact might break her neck.
Thinking quickly, she downshifted again, slowing her bike as much as possible, dodging what traffic she could.
Then she turned her bike toward a lowborn business, stamped her boots against the asphalt, and slammed her beloved Firefly into solid brick.
Chapter 11
Lila lay on the ground in shock.
The Firefly lay a few meters away, the wheel bent at an odd angle, the frame dented. Her body felt as though it had been through a particularly tough workout, overseen by the most torturous of trainers.
But she was alive.
Lila wiggled her arms and legs, wincing as she tried to clench the hand that been hit by the rearview mirrors. It throbbed almost as much as her hip and shoulder, which had absorbed much of the impact when she hit the sidewalk and rolled away. The bones in her hand still worked. She made a fist and moved on, turning her head from side to side, then gripped the bottom of her helmet and pulled it off.
“No, no, no,” the mystery rider shouted, downing the Barracuda on the sidewalk with a clutter. The rider sprinted toward Lila and ripped off his helmet, letting it drop and thunk dully beside her. “Lie back down,” he ordered.
Lila’s eyes widened as Tristan crouched beside her.