He was standing at the far end of the chain-link, slightly back from the crowd, and he wasn't filming the race. He was filming me. The camera, a proper one, not a phone, was pointed directly at where I was and had been pointed at where I was for what looked like the entire race. Not the start line, not the action, not the other riders. Me.
I clocked the position. The angle. The fact that he had placed himself at the exit point specifically.
I took the service road at speed, turned left instead of right at the first junction, cut through the logistics park access route, and came out on a street that ran parallel to Sam's position. By the time anyone following my expected exit route reached the road I was supposed to be on, I was two blocks away and moving in the wrong direction for them t
