I'd Start A Riot //Dyle//

Chapter Seven

"Fuck!" Kyle screams, the car shooting forward. "What the fuck! I don't know what I'm doing!" 

"Stop the fucking thing before you kill us!" Woody shouts, his knuckles turning white from holding onto the seat too tightly. "Stop the bastard car, Kyle!" 

The car's brakes squeal as Kyle slams on the breaks and the car comes to a halt. "Fuck me, I hate this." 

"I can't believe you've never learnt to drive." Woody's heart is thumping in his chest, and he feels a little bit sick. "Seriously, doesn't everyone learn when they're seventeen?" 

"Not me! I've lived in bloody London all my damn life, so I always had buses or the tube. Besides, you've got all your bloody no driving zones and stuff, so it'll be more expensive to drive here. And traffic is really bad." Kyle's hands are shaking. "I can't do this, man... It's awful. I hate it. I'm going to crash and die and then Dan's going to get hurt by the WWComms guys and I don't... I don't like the idea of tha-" 

"Let's not get worked up about this," Woody says, "Take a few deep breaths, and we'll try again. Look, we're in an automatic, we don't need to worry about gears and all that,  so don't stress yourself out, okay? Right, now have a drink, and try again." 

"Okay." Kyle sighs, taking a drink of Woody's water. "Right. So what do I do?" 

"So right now, we're in neutral. You just have to move the gear stick up into drive, and then slowly press the accelerator." Woody instructs Kyle, hoping to God the man doesn't kill them both. It took them a lot longer than Woody expected to find a car, and it was pure luck that they found an automatic.  Usually, most of the cars were either broken or had no engine.

"Like that?" Kyle mumbles, concentrating on what he's doing. He never thought he'd be driving a car, bt then again, he also never thought he'd be like this.

"Yeah, like that. Right, don't go too fast," Kyle puts his foot down a little harder so the car speeds up a little bit. Slowly, he begins to gain confidence. 

"Right, now just turn around this corner, slowly," Woody says, gently moving the steering wheel with Kyle. To say it's probably his first time driving, he's doing pretty well. "Okay, good." 

"Right, then. I think you're good to go." Woody smiles at Kyle, and grabs his bag from the footwell of the car. "Do you feel ready?" 

"Well, I'm about as ready as I'll ever be, honestly." Kyle sighs, already dreading what is inevitably going to come. He knows he'll never be able to do this, but he needs his Danny back. He'd go to the end of the earth and back for him- well, it feels like he's doing that for him right now.

"Come back if you don't feel comfortable, okay? I don't mind lending a hand to defeat those bastards. Try and get people together, I guess. I know Charlie would be on your side- I mean, after everything those sick fuckers did to him, I'm not surprised he wants his own back. Barbaric dicks." 

Kyle nods sadly, "Yeah, I know. I just want to have a normal life with him again, you know? I just want... I want everyone to be happy." 

Woody shakes his head, "I don't think that's possible for a few people, now. I think this country is past the point of return. It's sad, really. Watching the city you love be torn down to the ground." 

Kyle remains silent for a moment. London could have gone up in flames, but he wouldn't give a shit if only Dan were by his side. 

"Well, just wait here until their van comes back." Woody tells him, getting out of the car and shutting the door softly. "Keep your lights off and stay a fair distance behind them, that way they won't see you." 

"Okay," Kyle says.

"I mean, I know they say attack from the heart and stuff, but you're probably better off giving that one a miss." 

"Thanks, Woods," Kyle smiles.

"Good luck, though, man," he pats the top of the car- a shitty old Vauxhall. Normally, Kyle would take the piss, but right now, it's doing its job and that's good. "I'll tell Charlie you send your regards, yeah?" 

"Yeah, please do." 

Woody walks away from the car, giving Kyle a little wave. The driver's heart is in his throat, there's no denying that, but he just wants to get all of this done now.

He drives slowly up the motorway, keeping a fair distance between himself and the black van in front of him. He dreads the idea of being caught, but he doubts he will be. It feels like he's been driving for hours now, and he's wondering where exactly they are.

Nonetheless, he keeps driving until the sun is peaking over the land, and his eyes are beginning to feel tired.

But that's when the car begins to run out of petrol, slowly coming to a stop. "Fuck off! You're fucking joking me!" He shouts, slamming his hands down on the steering wheel. "No, no, no, no! Come on, please, please come on, move!" 

He gets out of the car, kicking the door closed. "You piece of shit, my last fucking chance, my only hope!" He screams, slamming his hands down on the bonnet and collapsing down next to it in floods of tears. This car was his last chance to find wherever the fuck it is they're keeping Dan, and even that has slipped out of his grasp now. 

Maybe this is hopeless after all...