The café's old ceiling fan buzzed softly overhead, doing little to cool afternoon heat. Sunlight bled through the dusty windows, painting streaks across the counter where Kai stood, drying glasses with lazy precision. Behind him, Mira bounced in place, barely able to stay still as she restocked the sugar jars.
"I got it," she said suddenly, a grin breaking across her face.
Kai glanced at her over his shoulder. "Got what?"
"My bike." Mira nearly dropped the sugar container. "I finally bought one. It's in my garage right now. Matte black, just like the ones the rebels ride. It even hums when it starts up. I swear it sounds amazing."
Kai raised and eyebrow, drying his hands. "You didn't just get a bike. You got a problem."
Mira laughed, unbothered. "Come on, I've been talking about this for weeks. Aren't you even a little proud?"
"I'm proud you didn't get scammed," Kai said, walking around the counter. "But seriously don't just take it out and start tearing up the roads. You don't know the streets yet. You ride on the wrong side, or into the wrong checkpoint, you're gonna end up talking to the wrong kind of people."
She smirked. "You mean the cops?"
Kai's expression didn't change. "I mean the kind that smile when they see a kid with no plates and no backup."
Mira's face softened, but she didn't back down. "I won't be stupid. I'm just gonna take it for a spin. Tonight. Just to feel what It's like. Just once."
Kai gave a quiet sigh and leaned against the counter, his arms folded, "Just keep your head on straight. The city doesn't play fair."
Later that evening...
Mira zipped up her jacket in the garage, heart thudding faster than the engine warming beneath her. Her fingers trembled as she flipped her visor down. Her mother was upstairs, probably still watching the news. Mira didn't say goodbye.
She kicked up the stand and rolled out into the open.
The city was different at night. The lights were harsher, the shadows longer, and everything felt like it was watching her. But she didn't care. She was free.
She followed the winding road past the edge of the mid-zone, past shuttered shops and silent fences, heading toward the location she'd heard murmured at the café. A rebel party. One of those secret meets they always whispered about loud music, louder engines, no cops.
Or she thought.
Red-blue lights snapped on behind her
She flinched. The siren gave a short, sharp chirp.
Her grip tightened on the handle as she slowed to pull over, panic climbing fast. She hadn't done anything wrong. Her bike wasn't registered, sure, but she wasn't speeding. Was she?"
A single cop stepped out the cruiser, moving like he'd already decided she was guilty.
"License and ID," he said, approaching her slowly, hand hovering near his belt.
"I-I don't have it on me," she said. "I just got the bike. I wasn't-"
VRRROOOM-
A blur of black and chrome streaked past them, engine roaring like it belonged to something alive. The cop swore under his breath, spinning on his heels and rushing back to his cruiser.
"Stay here!" he barked, then he was gone, tires screeching as he chased the rider into the dark.
Mira sat stunned for a moment. Then she twisted her throttle and took off, fast.
Her heart hammered. That had to be him. It had to be-
A black bike pulled up beside her.
Sleek. Silent. Unmistakable.
Night Rider.
He rode next to her in perfect sync, the glow of the streetlights sliding across his dark visor. He said nothing at first. Just matched her speed as they curved along the ridgeline highway, the city lights glittering beneath them.
Finally, his voice come through her helmet a smooth, low buzz through a proximity comm.
"Cut your engine."
She slowed, gliding toward a gravel pull-off at the top of a small hill. He followed her in, and together they rolled to a quiet stop.
The only sound left was the ticking of cooling engines and the wind moving through the tall grass.
He didn't remove his helmet.
"You know that party you're heading to?" he asked, voice distorted slightly by the comm. "It's a fake. A trap. We made it up."
Mira froze. "What?"
"We leak the location. Cops show up, expecting rebels. We're waiting with spike strips, false tags, even fake bikes. But you? You're not part of the plan."
"I didn't know," she said quickly. "I heard about it through some people at my work. I wasn't trying to"
"You shouldn't get involved," Night Rider cut in. "Not now. Not with the heat this high."
He took a step closer but stayed distant, his tone shifting.
"Where'd you get the bike?"
"I saved up. Bought it from a guy who used to ride."
"Why'd you get a bike."
"I just... wanted to be part of something. Something real."
"Who told you the exact location?"
"No one. I placed it together from rumors. Street talk."
he was quiet. She couldn't see his eyes, but she felt his gaze pressing into her.
"You got a clean face. Cop bait," he said at last. "They like stopping people like you. Harmless-looking. Easy wins."
She clenched her fists. "I'm not a spy."
"Then act like it."
The silence that followed wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't hostile either. Just wary. Like a test was being taken and Mira didn't know all the rules.
Finally Night rider stepped back toward his bike.
"You're lucky I was nearby," he said. "Go home."
She didn't move.
"I'm not scared."
He paused, engine humming beneath him."
"Good," he said. "Then meet me here tomorrow if you mean that."
And with that, he pulled away, disappearing into the dark leaving Mira alone on the hill, her thoughts louder than the wind.