First Lessons

“Hop on my bike.”

It is a command and you follow it.

“What about my car, what about Daisy?”

“Daisy is dead, Erin, and your car isn’t going anywhere.”

He revs the engine. You find yourself grabbing his waist as you hit nearly a hundred miles an hour. Twenty minutes later you come to an old hotel. It is in poor shape and looks like it’s been abandoned for some time.

He hops off his bike.

“Time for your first lesson.”

“Now?”

“Yes, speed is what kills. You aren’t fast enough.”

He starts to punch you. You block. His next punch is faster. You manage to block it. His next punch is nearly a blur. You only manage to block it a fraction of an an from your face. The next punch hits you. You go down.

“You must be faster. Come at me.”

You kick. It gets closer.

“Faster!”

He continues to yell faster after each failed attempt. You practice for hours.

“Enough! Time for us to eat. Hop on my bike.”

Everyone hops on. About a mile down the road you see a diner. There are few cars in the lot. You enter with the group and they all take seats. A nervous waitress scampers over to your table.

“W…w…w…what would you like?”

“Erin, feel free to order anything. We offer up this diner protection in return for free food.”

The waitress gives you a long look, as though she wondered if you were here of your own free will.

“Just a burger.”

“I’ll have what she’s having.”

The waitress scampers in back.

The burger is good and you return to the hotel. It’s filthy, but you’ve had worse.

You routine stays the same for several weeks. Each week you get just a little faster. Then your routine gets broken…