First gear, second, followed by third, then fourth, and with a flick of his foot and a quick thrust of his wrist, he revved the engine and gunned it full throttle. The engine of his twin cylinder motorcycle hummed excitedly in response. Already approaching a hundred miles an hour, he wasted no time heading up the mountain pass.
Higher and faster he rose. The town glowed dimly in the distant mist behind him. Dawn began its gradual approach ahead of him.
Drained of every ounce of energy that remained in his now tattered body from the ensuing battle with the creature, he slumped over the engine of his bike. A decent hour’s travel lay ahead of him.
He contemplated the events of the night. From his tremors to the confrontation and escape at the tavern. And then, turning his thoughts to the ensuing combat with his blood thirsty pursuer before escaping yet again, this time on his bike, leaving the bounty hunter stunned, battered, and bloody on the roadside.
His resilience in the fight surprised him, as did his combative moves. His instincts clear and precise. His counter moves quick and decisive. Even in his delusional and feverish state, he met every attack with undeniable precision and agility. He showed more than just survival skills, his moves were that of a trained assassin.
It concerned him that he moved to strike without thought or care for life. At the very moment he had the creature, ready to move in with a deadly blow, he caught himself, and stunned, stepped back. He looked down at his hands in a bewildered state and as the adrenaline rush subsided, crumpled to the ground in unconsciousness.
Minutes passed before he finally came to. Gathering strength he hefted himself up and onto his bike and raced off into the darkness.
As if his nightmares weren’t enough to raise questions about his past, now he really wanted answers.
Situated in a small mountain pass near the top of Nena mountain lay a quaint village. On the east side of the village sat a nook, wherein lay his star fighter, camouflaged by the vegetation.
He visited the spot frequently, digging for answers. To this point, no clues seemed to reveal themselves. However, the time had come to force fate.
Gradually, he slowed his motorcycle as he approached the village. The village, warm and inviting, looked lifeless. Night still held it prisoner. While dawn struggled to shed her light on the town and awaken it from slumber.
The highest peak of Nena towered high above. That, combined with the mountain showers and mists that still enveloped the valley, prevented daylight from creeping in to stir life.
He darted through town until the road began to bend and roll down the hill toward the edge of the countryside. A lone hidden dirt path sat to his right. It led up to a quaint, dimly lit, cottage.
He hoped she was home…