Shadow Of The Past Trilogy ∞ THE DISPLACED

104 ∞ encounters

Day Twenty ∞ Wednesday morning

SWERVING, JAGG NARROWLY MISSED the last jeep, pulled his Z1 900 out of a skid, and hit a rise in the ground so hard he lost his cap and his footing on the pegs. His grip tightened on the low handlebars, twisting the accelerator by accident. The motor revved and his legs swept back to a searing pain on his right calf as it slid against the hot four-to-one exhaust muffler. Clenching his jaw, he plowed out of the dense, swirling dust over the bumpy terrain and regained his foothold.

The rear wheel slipped into a rut and spun, kicking up more dust and stones. Jagg cursed and pushed his foot against the ground, helping it to find purchase. It had never occurred to him he'd be needing off-road tires. Now he'd lost track of how far he'd strayed from the dirt road.

Where is she? Breathing hard, he slowed the bike into a turn to scan the chaotic rumble of military jeeps peeking every now and again out of the dust storm they created. The higher-pitched roar of Lora's bike came in spurts but he couldn't see her. As he contemplated whether he should turn back for her, she shot out of the melee and raced up the road, trailed by a small plume. Relieved, Jagg circled and headed in her direction, bouncing over stones and endless lumps of dry desert grass.

Far ahead, Lora paused and looked for him, and he waved for her to go on. As she took off, he accelerated and dove into a wide excavation furrowed with wheel tracks.

Damn! He spun the bike around, kicking up dust. So this was how they'd been hiding out, practically buried into the desert floor. A large camouflage netting covered the heaped side facing his and Lora's approach. No wonder he hadn't seen them.

He exited the dugout via the slope and recovered his bearings. Lora was still up ahead on the road. A glance back assured him the jeeps were still busy. Whatever they were up to, he wasn't going to hang around to find out.

Jagg closed in on Lora, weaving his way across the rising terrain. A wide mound loomed ahead. Leaning over the super-bike handlebars with straight back, shoulders square, he hit it with enough speed to launch into the air. He flexed his legs, prepared to absorb the impact of landing. The bike landed hard on the other side, and he was still standing on the footpegs as he swung onto the road.

It wasn't long before he registered the shimmy between his knees. Damn. He tugged the bandana off his face and glanced at the rear wheel. Upgraded or not, his ride would need some serious servicing after this. The rear shocks must be shot for sure. Maybe he should just buy a new bike—he could afford that now.

He pulled up next to Lora and looked over his shoulder. All he could see of the ambush in the distance was the dust cloud.

"Well," he met her gaze, grinning, "that was interesting. Why did you stop?" He lifted a brow at her. "I told you to go on."

"I wanted to make sure..." She frowned as she surveyed the way ahead.

"What—those fuckers rigged another welcome party for you?"

"No," she said pensively. "They guard my vessel."

"Then go. You're the one with the A S A P." He leaned over to grab her chin and give her a quick, hard kiss. "I'm right behind you."

∞

Not a person? Weaver shot quick glances around. Hearing the voice coming out of nowhere and everywhere still disconcerted him. "Ah... what do you mean by that?"

"Please, specify. Your question contains too many undefined parameters."

He took a deep breath. "What did you mean by saying she's not a person? How can she be something else?"