Page 145 of Hyperspeed
And I would burn the whole damn track down before I left him behind.
I scanned the track, eyes sharp for cracks or another jet of steam ready to rip the road open. No way was I getting flattened before pulling off my super heroic rescue.
The buzz of drones closed in, their lenses tracking my every move. My image was likely all over the livestream, since drivers didn’t abandon races for their rivals.
But screw the headlines. Let Ailor chew me out later.
Rev was worth it.
“Rev!” I shouted, my voice muffled inside the helmet, praying it would still cut through the chaos. “Rev!”
Smoke swirled around me, thick and disorienting, but my visor held strong. I pressed forward into the smoke, each step pulling me closer to the rising heat. Then I saw it—Rev’s vehicle, flipped, flames licking up the chassis like hungry teeth.
A gust of wind tore through, scattering the smoke just enough to reveal him. Rev lay on his stomach, half hidden beneath the wreck, blood trailing from a gash at his hairline. His helmet lay beside him; the visor was cracked. Fingers clawed at the dirt, scraping for purchase as he tried to crawl through the narrow gap beneath the burning machine.
“Rev, fuck,” I hissed.
His eyes snapped up as I sprinted over, wide with pain and fear. “Kai!” he gasped before coughing violently.
I dropped to my knees beside him, gravel biting through my race suit.
His breath came in ragged pulls, chest hitching with each inhale like his lungs couldn’t quite catch up. Sweat clung to his skin, his bun half undone, loose strands matted to his forehead. I reached out and swept them back, my fingers brushing the warm stickiness of blood.
He winced.
A shallow cut marked the bridge of his nose, angry and red, and fresh crimson smeared his split lower lip, as if he’d clamped down during impact.
“Hey,” I croaked. “You with me, baby?”
“Absolutely . . . peachy,” he panted, managing a weak smile. “But I think I’m stuck.”
I sprang to my feet and stepped in front of him, leaning down to grab both his hands. His skin was slick with sweat and grime, shaking with effort.
“Hold on to me,” I said, voice firm but low as I tightened my grip. “I’m pulling you out.”
He gave a sharp nod, jaw clenched, and locked his fingers around mine. His grip turned bruising, knuckles blanching white against the dirt-smudged contrast of my gloves.
I braced myself, boots grinding into the gravel, and pulled with everything I had.
A harsh scrape tore through the air, fabric catching, tearing. But what froze me was the choked sound that followed. A strained, breathless cry wrenched from his chest.
I stopped cold, heart thudding, terrified I was doing more harm than good.
“Shit,” I breathed. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” he breathed, dropping his head to the ground. But when he rolled his shoulders with a sharp wince, guilt hit me hard.
I scanned the vehicle’s undercarriage, eyes darting over warped metal. The frame was crumpled, but maybe . . . maybe I could lift it. I wouldn’t need to move the whole thing, just enough to give him space. To unhook him from whatever had him pinned.
The heat radiated off it in waves, shimmering in the air between us. I could feel it even through my suit, as if I were standing too close to a forge. I stepped towards it, hands flexing in preparation, about to grab hold of the metal.
But before I could touch it, a hand clamped around my ankle. I froze. Rev’s trembling fingers could barely maintain their desperate hold on my boot.
I looked down and met his eyes.
“What are you doing, Kai?”
“Gonna get you out, baby,” I said, shaking off his hand.
