RONAN I motioned toward the empty doorway, keeping my body tight to the wall. The soldier didn’t hesitate. He rolled out around the corner in a smooth, practiced movement, boots barely touching the ground as he came up into a crouch. I stayed close behind him, close enough that I could see the scratches along the side of his rifle and the way his finger rested just outside the trigger guard. The barrel tracked everywhere we looked, sweeping left, then right, then snapping forward again. We ran down the dirt path toward the motor pool, boots pounding hard enough that I felt the vibrations in my teeth. Every time we passed a building, the man swung his rifle into the narrow gap between structures, checking for movement, checking for death.The first time, nothing. The second time, only shadows and drifting dust. On the third gap, he fired immediately. The crack of the rifle was deafening at that range. I skidded to a stop, heart slamming into my ribs as rounds tore back through the space he had just checked. I threw myself sideways, pressing my back to the temporary building, keeping the thin metal wall between myself and whoever was shooting back. Dirt and gravel exploded into the air as bullets struck the ground, spraying my legs and hammering into the structure with sharp metallic snaps. One round clipped close enough that I felt the heat of it pass. “The motor pool is right down the way,” he shouted over his shoulder, voice strained but steady. “I’ll buy you cover, go!” Before I could argue, before I could even form a response, he rolled into the gap between buildings and disappeared. The gunfire intensified immediately, a chaotic roar that echoed off the walls and turned the air into something solid and hostile. I sucked in a breath and lunged across the opening. For those few seconds, my mind betrayed me. Every gust of air felt like a bullet passing inches from my skull. Every twitch of my hair, every shift of my clothes, registered as impact that never came. I ran blind, legs pumping, vision narrowing to the next scrap of cover. I hit the last step wrong, my foot slipping out from under me, and I went down hard, face-first into the dirt. The ground scraped my cheek and filled my mouth as I slid the rest of the way, momentum carrying me into the shadow of the next building. I scrambled up on hands and knees, then onto my feet, and ran again, lungs burning, panic chasing me forward like a living thing.The motor pool came into view as I rounded the corner of a massive tent, and the sight stopped me cold. Chaos ruled the space. Vehicles barreled past in every direction, engines screaming, tires kicking up clouds of dust. Mechanics shouted over the noise while drones hovered and darted, tools extending from their frames as they worked at impossible speed. Some vehicles were already pulling out, others were being sealed and armed on the fly. My contacts flared to life, overlays snapping into place. A waypoint appeared in my vision, glowing bright yellow, with a path stretching ahead through the madness. I followed it, weaving past armored transports and supply trucks, until the marker settled over a lone mechanic crouched beside a motorcycle. Its sleek cover was open, exposing dense layers of hardware beneath.He looked up as I approached. “You Ashcroft?” I nodded, barely slowing. “I’m supposed to have transport.” He jabbed a finger at the bike. “It’s charged and ready.” I stared down at it, disbelief cutting through the adrenaline. In the distance, a powerful explosion shook the ground, the shockwave rippling through the motor pool and rattling my bones. “A bike?” I shouted. “I don’t know how to ride a bike!” The mechanic planted his foot on the seat and shoved. The wheels slid across the dirt, but the bike stayed upright, perfectly balanced. “It’s gyroscopically balanced,” he said quickly. “It won’t fall over, and it drives itself.” He never finished his explanation. Something whistled overhead, and the mechanic launched himself at me, slamming into my chest and dragging us both to the ground. We hit hard. A building several dozen yards away erupted in a fireball, debris scattering like shrapnel. Almost immediately, more explosions ripped through the air above us, close enough that I felt the heat wash over my back. “What the hell!” I yelled, ears ringing. “Mortar strike,” he said, already hauling me up by my arm. “Interceptors have it for now. You need to leave. Now.” He shoved me toward the bike. I didn’t argue. I swung my leg over the seat and dropped into place. The moment I settled, my contacts interfaced with the bike’s system. The lid snapped shut over me, sealing the cabin and muting the chaos outside into a dull, distant roar. The bike launched forward like a missile. Air was ripped from my lungs as the emergency drive program kicked in, acceleration crushing me into the seat.The machine threaded through the unit at terrifying speed, then burst onto the main road. Every turn slammed me sideways until I fumbled with the restraints, dragging the straps over my chest and locking them between my legs. Soldiers blurred past on both sides of the road, then figures in black combat armor. Some raised weapons and fired, but army units pushed them back, returning fire. White streaks spidered across the canopy as bullets struck and failed to penetrate. Then I was through. The road opened ahead of me, empty and fast, the bike settling into a relentless sprint toward a destination already loaded by my contacts. I finally had a moment to breathe. I pulled up the display, eyes scanning the data. Almost eight hours of travel. The endpoint sat just outside a city called Redmont, in Cinder State.My gaze drifted to another name on the map. Ironvale. Home. Without allowing myself time to think, I added the waypoint to the path. I would stop there first. Just to check. It wasn’t professional, but I wasn’t special forces or a spy. I was a desk worker who had been thrown into something far bigger than himself. Not knowing what was happening to me had to be tearing my parents apart. If I didn’t check on them, my imagination would do worse things than reality ever could, especially over a ride this long. The system confirmed the change. Enough charge. Enough time. Assuming the roads were clear. I let out a short, shaky laugh. Of course, that meant the roads would not be clear. Something would go wrong. I would probably end up walking part of the way, if not all of it. I shook my head and smirked inside the sealed cabin.If that was the future waiting for me, I might as well enjoy the ride while it lasted.