Jennifer San Filippo

Teo shoved his motorcycle over another steep rise on Monta Brillante, harsh bramble tugging at his pant leg. This ride wasn’t going to be much of a secret if he came back with twigs sticking out of him. 

The chilly night wind clawed through his clothes, even as he sweated. His Miller 6 probably could’ve handled more of the climb than he’d given it, but there was no reason to waste gas. Besides, he wasn’t in a hurry to get back. 

Below him, Gale City roared.

Diesel automobiles rumbled on brightly lit streets. If not for the wind, he’d likely hear the music pouring from bars and dance clubs, the peppy bounce of swing or heavy chords of blues. Maybe he’d hear tinny radios from the windows that glowed with yellow and blue lights. Fog from the south rolled in like an amorphous, stalking predator. A singular, metallic radio tower protruded from the mist, perhaps a half-mile away from the base of the mountain. 

It was the photo of nearly every travel brochure. Adventure. Innovation. Gale. But the grainy, black-and-white reproductions were nothing like the original. 

Teo mounted his bike and revved the engine. Once upon a time, this ride had been terrifying. There was only one main road up this mountain, and this wasn’t it. The gate that led to the mines was closed, but if you followed the chain linked fence towards the left, you’d eventually find a bendable chunk of wire just large enough to fit a motorcycle through. 

No one was allowed here. Especially not him. Especially not in the middle of the night. 

It was his favorite place to be. 

Whenever his aunt had scolded him for some unfair reason—or fair reason—he came here. Whenever the workload at the garage became too overwhelming. Whenever he sensed Johnny was about to ask him for a “little favor” that likely meant a few nights in county jail. 

Whenever there had been a court date his aunt wouldn’t let him go to. Whenever there had been a court date he could go to. The night of the verdict was the first and only time he’d ever come here without his bike. But that had been years ago. 

Gale City never slept. 

Teo leaned on the handlebars, trying not to imagine what the ride would be like. He had done it dozens of times, possibly hundreds, and could find every switchback and jump in near-blackness. He wasn’t anywhere near the peak—he probably didn’t have enough fuel for that—but this should be enough to keep him going downhill for a solid few minutes.

He wished he was more excited. 

He revved the engine once, then twice. The back wheel churned against the gravel as he held the brake. He counted three . . . two . . . one . . .

He released.

The bike leaped from the ledge and crashed into the faint dirt path. 

There had been a time when this speed felt insanely dangerous—when the twists and turns in the hill would come upon him too quickly, even in daylight; when he was sure he would break at least one bone before he reached sea level. He missed those days.

Now, he turned and skidded and flew down the hill, thinking that he could easily call this boring if he wanted to. He really didn’t want to.

He ground his back wheel against another switchback and came to a fork in the road: to the right, dirt melded into pavement that straightened and flattened, leading back to Main Street and the gate entrance. But the left road angled in a sharp switchback, unpaved and rarely used. Teo shoved his handlebars hard to the left.

Another fork in the road coming up. He always chose right, since it had the steepest stretch he could find, but he didn’t feel like going back so soon. He dug his back wheel into the dirt and swerved left again.

He was veering into the mining area, he knew, but he kept going. He’d never tried the hills there. Why not now? He angled down, amazed that he didn’t feel jittery even in the cold. Maybe the other side of the mountain had better inclines. 

Headlights streaked in his periphery, about twenty feet to his left.

“Sparks,” he cursed. He hit the brake, trying to angle his own headlight away from the truck so as not to draw attention. He wasn’t supposed to be here. 

But neither was anyone else.

By the time he had managed to slow to a stop, the truck had passed, heading farther up the hill. Teo turned off his own headlight anyway. 

He waited for a minute, but no more vehicles came up the road. He could risk finishing the ride, but he knew in his gut he wouldn’t. If it was a sanctioned delivery, they’d call the police on him. If it wasn’t a sanctioned delivery, he’d almost definitely be recognized. 

No choice. Teo turned off the engine and let his bike coast down the hill. 

It was, ironically, far more work. His foot began to shake from holding the brake down. No doubt he would have to replace the brake pads after this. 

A small thought needling him grew louder as he continued down. What would a delivery truck be delivering to the mines at this hour? 

His only conclusion: it probably wasn’t a delivery truck.

Sparks.

He angled as far away from the road as he could until he was satisfied that no one would be able to see him. He leaned back as his bike tried to drag him down the hill. 

Finally, the land leveled enough that he could coast safely to the fence. He glanced toward the gate as he headed for his own exit and paused. 

No one was in the windowed box by the entrance. No lights, no movement. The gate still looked shut, though Teo didn’t know of another way the truck could’ve made onto the mining site. Had the chain around the gate been cut? He couldn’t tell from this distance. 

Teo hurried through the hole in the fence. The night ride felt worse than a bust now because he was possibly in the vicinity of a crime. His aunt would love that. 

He walked his bike towards the street. If he was caught anywhere near here, it wouldn’t matter what he said. Every officer in town knew who he was. 

Teo hurried down the street and around the first corner he came to. The bustle of Main Street gave way sharply to featureless warehouses and factories. The streetlights glowed yellow here; this area wasn’t yet part of the city’s new charger-based power grid, and the sickly color made everything look grimier. There was no good reason to be here at night. He shouldn’t be caught here either. He hopped back on his bike. He would go down a few blocks and then get back to civilization. 

A sudden crash to his left. He whirled, nearly losing his balance on his bike. 

A man stood hunched in an alleyway, digging through the refuse that had spilled from a fallen trash can. Teo forced himself to relax. This, at least, was normal. 

The man grunted as he dug, and Teo realized that he was now clawing on pavement with his bare hands. He barked something, voice guttural and inhuman. Teo almost missed the words. 

“Get out, get out, get out of here—AGH!”

Teo winced at the sound of fingernails on cement, but the man didn’t stop clawing. Gale had no shortage of homeless, but they were rarely dangerous. Teo took his hand off the motor and dismounted. He’d rather not startle the guy. 

He couldn’t help but stare. The man kept clawing and muttering to himself. Teo couldn’t tell if he sounded angry or distressed. 

Without looking, his tire hit the curb. 

The man whirled. 

His eyes glowed blue. 

Teo froze, waiting for the image to correct itself. But the light was so clearly blue, and that was so clearly a man, and those were so clearly his eyes. The blue was in stark opposition to the faint yellow light flooding the streets here. The alley was dark behind him.

The man stared, still hunched like a feeding animal. His pupils were hardly visible in the bright glow of his irises. The two lights darted in unison as they took in Teo’s person. 

The streetlight flickered above him. Teo heard the faint fizzle of electricity, but he couldn’t tell if it came from the light or from the man. 

“Get out,” the man spat at Teo. “Get out. Get out.” 

He stepped from the shadow of the alleyway; sickly pale skin, matted hair, threadbare jacket. He walked with a feral hunch, his clawed fingers dripping with blood. 

The blue in his eyes did not change.

Teo gripped the handlebars, ready to keep the bike between him and the man. Should he try to fight his way out? 

No. 

They are dangerous. 

The man took another step, not blinking, his face gaunt and nearly white from the light of his own eyes. “Get. OUT.” 

The streetlight went out. 

Teo jumped on his bike and revved the engine.

The man lunged. 

The engine kicked so hard that the front tire leaped into the air. Teo leaned forward just as the man took a swing at his head. The man’s finger hooked the back of his shirt like a claw, choking Teo as it sent a shock of static up his neck.

The bike leaped forward again, and the man’s grip disappeared.

Teo raced blindly down the street and took the first turn he found, coughing. He didn’t look back. He could still feel the tingle of electricity skittering up the back of his head.

He kept going until warehouses gave way to Main Street, then took a hard right, as far away as possible. The world looked normal again, the streetlights blue and white, neon signs pressing against the night, but he couldn’t stop trembling. He considered stopping somewhere to puke. 

Bright, flashing lights flooded his vision. He ground to a halt, heart pounding, until a siren cut through the air. 

“Gale City Police,” a voice crackled loudly from a speaker. “Dismount your vehicle and put your hands in the air.”