Future Hearts (A Primeval Story)

Entomophobia Part 1

"My car, my rules." I visibly roll my eyes at their bickering as I pull up beside the team, noticing the annoyed faces of the passengers of Danny's car, glad my expression is blocked by my helmet's visor. "I hate it when you pull rank." Connor mumbles as he eyes the taller man standing in front of them. Shaking my hair out of my helmet, I pat it down in hopes of looking somewhat presentable, though huff when a stray piece falls flat on my forehead quickly pushing it out of my face.

The racing track in front of us is surrounded by large trees, allowing relative silence to grace the tarmac when there aren't any booming engines to upset that quiet.

"Yeah? Well I hate sitting in the back." Becker throws his complaint into the ring as well, letting his gun rest against his arm as he consciously survays the land with his eyes before meeting mine briefly. The corners of his lips curve slightly before falling as his attention is brought to Connor remarking that he sat in the front last time.

I chuckle as the man's eyes widen ever so slightly in astonishment, "who keeps count?! " I smirk at that, moving away from my bike to stand beside the ex-police detective. "Are you trying to kill the team again with your awful driving?" Neck angling back to meet his eyes my smirk widens into a grin at the dirty glare he shoots my way; one of my, recently developed, past times was annoying the life out of our new 'leader'.

"No-"

"Yes!" Sarah stands to my side, abruptly stopping his refusal with a sharp look. Shaking my head, I blow a few loose hairs from my face as I slowly walk forward, aware that the race track could be in use. The banging of a window behind us followed by muffled warnings only confirms my theory.

"Friendly round here aren't they?" Rolling my eyes at the nerdy man, I grab the back of his denim jacket, pulling him away from the edge of the track as two brightly coloured cars zoom past us. "Mind the jacket! It was a gift." He rolls his shoulders to make my hand release him, which I do when I'm satisfied he won't get splattered by the two warring cars.

Taking a large intake of air I scoff at the man incredulously. "I know! I was the one who bought it." This amuses the previously silent Becker as that same small smile threatens his lips, simultaneously causing my heart to beat in a way I previously thought was biologically impossible. Damn that man.

Turning back to the track, I take a second to admire the two fast cars before looking back to my team. The looks on the faces of the three males in our group makes an even louder noise part from my lips. "I can smell the arousal from here."

That seems to bring them back to reality as varied shades of embarrassment shame their faces, though Connor is the one to reply. "You just wouldn't understand." Looking at him once more, I send him an exasperated glance before walking back over to my bike, readying for the continuation of our trip. Shaking my head I gesture to the bike itself. "I do, but unlike some, I can keep my mouth from hanging open when a pretty car goes over a hundred miles an hour."

As usual, Danny puts a stop to our bickering, with me having to remind myself he isn't deliberately trying to imitate Cutter. Though even mentioning him in my mind creates a stab of pain straight into my skull. To hide my wince I forcefully push the helmet back onto my head. "Connor, the anomaly?" The genius had gone back to admiring the fast and furious cars, making Danny have to repeat his question. Eyes widening he looks down to the detection device in his hand, "oh!"

It didn't take long to reach where Connor had detected the anomaly, it seemingly being housed in a large garage building. Once again shaking my hair out of my helmet, I curse myself for not putting my hair up today. Grumbling about needing a brush as I cross my arms next to the armed captain.

"Have you seen anything unusual mate?" The question comes from Danny as I bring my own weapon from my side and into my hands, keeping the safety on as he leads us to the garage. The working man shakes his head in dismissal, prompting us to carry on forward and to the entrance of the large metal and concrete building.