The scream of metal grinding against metal drowned out the roar of the fire consuming the hangar below. My shoulder slammed into Elena’s as our bikes locked together, a tangle of silver and white frames hurtling toward the jagged edge of the unfinished bridge. The safety railing was a distant memory, replaced by a terrifying drop into the industrial ruins of the backlot. I could see the red dust of the earth rising to meet us, a thirsty desert waiting for a crash.
"You’re going to kill us both!" Elena’s voice was a jagged edge in my ear, distorted by the wind and the proximity of our helmets.
"I’m ending the cycle!" I roared back.
I twisted the handlebars, forcing the Norton’s weight into her turbine-assist housing. The high-pitched whistle of her engine turned into a sickening mechanic
