Page 108 of Jump or Fall
Mara unlocked the parking garage and led Gordon inside. The heavy metal door clanged shut behind them, enclosing them in the dim space where the smell of vehicles and machinery hung in the air. A sleek, two-door black car sat between two motorbikes, their matte fairings catching the low light. Millon’s idea of a joke.
Gordon hesitated, his fingers tightening around the key.
“What’s wrong?” Mara asked.
He shook his head, grabbing a helmet from the wall. “I want to tell you to stay here, but I also don’t want to split up.”
A smirk tugged at her lips as she pulled her helmet on. The inside pressed against her healing skin and made it itch. “As if you could tell me what to do.”
“I thought about that too,” he said, chuckling.
He tested the key in one of the bikes and the engine roared to life, the deep hum vibrating through the ground. Gordon swung a leg over the seat and held out his hand. She took it, sliding onto the bike behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist.
The itch beneath her helmet burned, but she pushed it aside.
Right now, all that mattered was the mission.
Gordon maneuvered the bike to the exit, the rumble of the engine filling the garage.
He revved it and glanced over his shoulder.
“Let’s ride.”
Chapter 36
Mara
The city was hardly recognizable. Some streets had descended into chaos—groups of people setting fires, the dense smoke curling into the sky. Others, untouched, remained eerily still, as if waiting for destruction to reach them.
Riding during the day didn’t have the same surreal beauty as at night, when the neon lights turned the world into a blur of color, but there was still something exhilarating about it. Even though she wasn’t the one driving, Mara felt the familiar rush of freedom as the wind whipped past.
Gordon wove through traffic, his movements cautious. It wasn’t like their previous rides—no reckless speed, no sharp turns. He was being careful with the borrowed bike, and she couldn’t blame him.
A traffic jam forced them to stop. The lanes ahead were gridlocked, packed too tightly for the bike to slip through. After a few minutes of waiting in stagnant heat, Gordon turned them down a narrow side street.
The detour seemed promising. But the road was clear—too clear. The farther they rode, the more uneasy she became.
Silence pressed in around them.
“I think we should turn around,” she said, her fingers tightening against his sides.
“Yeah… Something isn’t right.”
He turned the bike around, retracing their path.
There wasa barricade.
“Shit,” he muttered, turning the bike again. She kept her eyes open and scanned for any sign of who had trapped them. The street remained completely empty, with no movement in the buildings above.
When they reached the first place they had turned around, another barricade was waiting.
They had ridden straight into a trap.
Gordon was about to speak when someone grabbed her from the left, and another set of hands took him from the right.
They were thrown to the ground.
A man wearing a cracked enforcer helmet pointed a gun at her. Two others stood beside him, their faces masked. One gripped a large metal pole, ready to strike.
