Bray leaned against the motorbike and folded his arms. He stared at her for a moment, making her feel on edge. Those big green eyes, deep as forest moss, sparkled with an intensity that made her want to shrink back into the chair. Eventually he spoke.
“He’s out of the country. Should be back in the next day or two,” he said.
“I thought you were his apprentice. Shouldn’t you be with him?” she replied, wanting to look away from his stare but forcing herself not to do so. It was one thing to feel intimidated, it was another to act as such.
“Shaigun. And no, there was a task that needed to be done here.”
“Judging?” she enquired sarcastically. But he ignored the question. This boy took his job far too seriously. Had he actually killed somebody before? She guessed he must have by the way he handled Reuben and his thugs. Maybe it was his line of work that made him so stern and rude.
“I need you to tell me everything that you know. Everything that has happened,” he said.
She told him what she knew: that she was Minuan and that her uncle had brought her from Thea and it was the Shadojak that had helped them to hide in Britain. She told about the events of the previous day right up until she walked into his garage. Then a thought came to her. She took her uncle’s journal from her pocket and handed it to him. He opened it and flicked through the pages before glancing up.
“I can’t read this,” he said, handing it back.
“Why? It’s written in your language, isn’t it?”
Bray shook his head, “There is a common language on Thea that’s spoken in the Empire and surrounding countries, but that’s not it. I’ve never seen it before. The Minuans are a small group of people that keep themselves to themselves. I doubt even the Shadojak could decipher it.”
“So, who can?” she began, but Bray held his hand up to silence her. He cocked his head to the side as if listening to something although she couldn’t hear anything other than the distant traffic.
“They’ve found us,” he said. A moment later and she could make out the sirens of approaching police cars and the thudding of a helicopter.
“How could they know where we are?”
“You must have a tracker planted on you. It’s the only way they would have found us so quickly.”
Elora felt a wave of guilt wash over her, mixing with her rising panic as she struggled to come to terms with the thought that she had been bugged like something out of a spy movie.
“There’s no point in leaving until we find the tracker and destroy it,” he said as he wandered over to the garage door and double checked it was locked.
“I don’t know what it looks like, even if I knew where it was,” she said, rising from the seat.
“Think. Did they slip something into your pockets or pin something to your jacket? It could be as small as a coin or a card, anything.
“No. I changed my clothes after they had left...wait a sec.” She took out Mr Silk’s business card from her pocket, “Reuben gave me this.”
Bray snatched it and tore it in half, revealing a thin circuit inside. He crushed it in his hand before letting it drop to the floor.
“Now we can leave,” he said, as the sirens arrived on the other side of the garage doors.
Too late, they’re here,” said Elora as the wriggly tin roof began to rattle with the down draft from the helicopter.
“Get on the bike,” Bray ordered, as he opened the wardrobe up wide and retrieved a leather jacket. He threw it at her, “Put it on. And the helmet.”
Elora slipped her arms into the thick biker’s jacket, surprised at how heavy it felt as she struggled to swing a leg over the huge bike. She was afraid the whole thing might topple over. Taking the helmet, she pushed it down on her head, her breath immediately fogging up the visor, so she flipped it open. Surely, he didn’t expect her to ride the bike.
The door suddenly rattled as somebody tried to get in. She couldn’t guess what Bray had in mind. But wished he would hurry up about it.
“Open up,” came a voice from outside, having to shout to be heard above the noise of the helicopter. It wouldn’t be long before they came in; the door wasn’t that strong.
Bray swung a long leg over the bike, forcing her to shuffle back yet the shape of the seat caused her to slide down against him.
“You ever been on a bike before?” he asked, as he pushed a pair of sunglasses on.
“No, never,” Elora replied, wondering why he didn’t have a helmet. Maybe there was only one and he felt that she had more chance of banging her head. He was probably right - motorbikes were scary.
“It’s simple: lean with me, not the bike, he explained as he pressed the ignition and fired the engine to life. He gave a twist of the throttle and the roar hurt her ears. “And don’t fall off,” he added, kicking the stand away and letting the clutch out.
Elora yelped as she flung her arms around Bray’s waist, the huge rear tyre squealing as it spun, causing dark plumes of smoke to engulf the back of the garage. She felt her body pull back with inertia as the bike surged forwards. Tightening her grip around Bray, she locked her arms together as he gunned the bike straight at the open wardrobe.
Where was he taking her, Narnia?
Elora shut her eyes and braced for an impact yet all she felt was a thump as the bike suddenly dropped whilst the smashing of splintering wood reached her ears.
They’d driven through a false wall made of thin plywood and were now accelerating down a narrow alley that ran behind the garages. They travelled so fast that the wall beside her was a red blur, the single bricks and mortar becoming one as the bike headed to a dead end.
Her body was suddenly flung forwards, her chest crushing into Bray’s solid back as he harshly applied the brakes. She fought not to close her eyes as the wheels locked up, Bray leaning hard to the left and the back wheel skidded around. She leaned her body with his, as he had instructed, putting her trust fully into his ability to handle the powerful machine. The bike skidded sideways, almost parallel to the wall they headed for, and now faced a side street. Her mind had only just taken in the details of the road ahead when her body was flung back once again. The bike lunged forwards, tearing from the alley like a ball from a cannon.
The alley fed into a busy street and Bray didn’t pause to check for crossing traffic, instead pushing the bike on blindly and narrowly missing a passing bus as he cut across two lanes and turned them into traffic heading away from the city.
They accelerated along the white line that separated the lanes, Elora squeezing her knees as far into Bray as she could, fearing that they might clip the cars to either side which they passed as if they were standing still.
Hurtling past a large glass building, Elora caught the reflection of the black helicopter that had caught them up. She couldn’t hear it above the noise of the motorbike but knew they had little chance of escaping its sights.
They were going so fast now that the cars around them appeared to be going backwards. If one decided to change lanes at the wrong moment they would hit it like a torpedo, probably killing those inside the vehicle as well as themselves. She gripped tighter yet couldn’t take her gaze from the way ahead. Further up was a junction, the traffic lights glowing red and the cars began to slow down.
The shadow of the helicopter passed over them, she realised it had pushed ahead to cut them off as they slowed for the traffic lights. Yet, as they approached Bray kept his hand firmly on the throttle, their speed a constant suicide cruise.
