Page 41 of Solar Bound
She pushed on, navigating more by instinct. The motorcycle's headlight was too risky to use with Milano's patrols overhead, so she relied on the fading natural light, squinting to make out the path ahead.
As she crested a rise, a flash of movement in her peripheral vision made her heart stutter. Headlights moved fast along a parallel ridge about half a mile away. Not just one vehicle, but three, their powerful spotlights sweeping the terrain.
Milano search teams.
Fuck.
Dani cut her engine immediately and let momentum carry her down the far side of the ridge, out of sight. But she'd miscalculated. The decline was steeper than it appeared, and without power to control her descent, the motorcycle picked up speed rapidly.
The front wheel hit a depression, and Dani felt herself becoming airborne. For one suspended moment, she was flying, and then reality crashed back as she and the motorcycle parted ways. She tumbled through the air, instinctively tucking into a roll as years of martial arts training kicked in.
She hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind from her lungs. Pain exploded in her shoulder and side as she rolled uncontrollably down the rocky slope, finally coming to a stop in a cloud of dust.
For several seconds, she lay completely still, fighting to draw breath into stunned lungs. When oxygen finally returned, it brought with it an inventory of fresh injuries. Ribs, bruised, maybe cracked. Left shoulder, definitely wrenched. Right ankle, somehow, miraculously, still contained in its makeshift splint, though throbbing with renewed intensity.
The motorcycle lay on its side twenty feet away, front wheel still spinning lazily. The backpack had torn free during her fall and rested nearby, its contents thankfully still secured inside.
"Get up," she commanded herself. "Move."
The sound of engines grew louder. The Milano team had heard her crash, or worse, spotted her. Either way, they were coming.
Dani forced herself to her feet, biting back a cry as her body protested. She staggered to the motorcycle and heaved it upright, ignoring the screaming pain in her shoulder. The frame was dented, the left mirror gone, but the engine still caught when she hit the starter.
The headlights on the ridge were closer now, starting to descend her way. She had maybe two minutes before they reached her position.
There was no way to outrun them on the damaged bike, not with her injuries. She needed a diversion.
Dani reached for the backpack, frantically searching through the medical supplies until her fingers closed around what she needed. A bottle of alcohol. Surgical grade, nearly pure ethanol. She tore a strip from her already-ripped shirt and stuffed it into the bottle's mouth, creating a crude wick.
Fire. Her oldest friend. Her most reliable weapon.
The lights were closing in, now just a quarter of a mile away and gaining quickly. Dani gunned the motorcycle's engine, fighting to maintain control with one hand while holding her makeshift explosive. She sped parallel to the approaching vehicles, leading them away from the rendezvous point.
When she'd put enough distance between herself and her intended path, she pulled the lighter from her pocket. It was the same one that had survived the cave. With a practiced flick, she lit the wick and hurled the bottle toward a patch of dry brush.
The explosion was more impressive than she'd expected. Flames erupted instantly, racing through the parched vegetation. The Milano vehicles skidded to a halt as a wall of fire spread between them and Dani.
She didn't wait to see if they'd find a way around. With the last of her strength, she wrenched the motorcycle around and sped off in the direction of the rendezvous point, the growing darkness swallowing her as the fire blazed behind.
The final miles were a blur of pain and determination. Twice she nearly blacked out, forcing herself to stay conscious through sheer willpower. The bike's engine began to stutter. She didn’t know if it was damaged in the crash or running out of fuel. Either way, it wouldn’t last much longer.
“Please, please, please,” she begged the bike. “Just a little closer.”
The motorcycle gave a final, protesting cough as she guided it into the canyon entrance, then died completely. Dani half-rode, half-wobbled the last few yards before the bike tipped sideways, depositing her roughly on the ground.
She lay on the desert floor, panting heavily and fighting the waves of pain washing over her. Dani didn't think she could stand up even if she tried. Every muscle screamed in protest, and every breath sent sharp pains through her ribs. Tears spilled hot over her cheeks. Her body couldn’t take much more.
But worse than the physical pain was the fear eating away at her core.
Where was Solar? Was he still alive? Still fighting? Or had Milano's mercenaries subdued him? Taken him to some secret facility to be studied and dissected?
Fear took her imagination to some dark places.
“Solar,” she whispered in determination. “I’m coming.”
The thought sent a surge of renewed energy through her exhausted body. She hadn't survived a cave collapse, a motorcycle crash, and a Milano pursuit just to give up now. Solar was alive. He had to be. Milano would not win.
And until she saw him again, felt his impossible warmth, witnessed that golden glow that seemed to reach inside her very soul, she would keep fighting. Keep surviving. Because somehow, in just a few days, this alien had become something precious to her. Something worth burning for.
