The cool night air hit my face instantly. Standing beside the Ninja parked in the lot, I finally dropped the drunk act, standing up straight and letting out a long, heavy breath of air.
I pulled the matte-black helmet back over my head, strapped it tight, and swung my leg over the Ninja. Firing up the engine, I pulled up the navigation map and rolled out of the parking lot, following the route back through the quiet, darkened streets.
I turned down the second street, the headlight cutting through the thick shadows of the deserted road, when a silhouette suddenly materialized directly in my path.
My heart slammed into my ribs. I slammed on the brakes, the tires shrieking as the bike skidded to a harsh stop—stopping just inches short of the figure standing motionless in the dark.
It was
