Chapter 64 Lucy, Xander, Asher, Nitro, Fallon, & Kane #7
I adjusted instantly, compensating for the loss of traction, fighting to maintain control of the increasingly unstable machine. The front tire was still intact, though smoking ominously. If I could just make it to the hatch...
Through the smoke and flames, I found it. And, thank fuck, it was open.
The spiral tightened as I descended, the circle of my path growing smaller with each pass.
The flames reached higher, licking at the upper half of the globe now.
I was being cooked inside my protective gear, sweat pouring down my face inside the helmet.
Searing pain ran the length of my calves, as if the suit was melting against my skin, and my leather boots weren’t saving my feet from the volcanic heat.
Though survival instincts told me to go faster, I slowed gradually.
Careening through the exit too fast wouldn’t do me any favors.
I let gravity do most of the work now, no longer trying to defy it.
The motorcycle's momentum decreased as I approached the bottom of the sphere.
The escape hatch was so close I could taste it now.
Through the rectangular opening I could see crew members waiting with fire extinguishers.
In the near distance, the Cirque fire truck was closing in, its lights flashing.
Ten feet. Five feet. Almost there…
The front tire caught fire as I made my final approach, the rubber surrendering to the relentless heat. The machine beneath me shook. Still, I was close enough now that I could make it.
The disintegrating front tire caught on a seam in the metal floor. Under normal circumstances, the bike would glide right over it. This time, the wheel hit it like a ten-foot wall. The motorcycle stopped; I didn't.
I sailed over the handlebars, my body launching forward toward the narrow exit.
I bought my arms up, folding them across my chest, hoping to save my ribs from the unavoidable impact.
For a surreal moment, I was flying, weightless, suspended in a sea of orange and red with even the suit blazing around me.
Bet I look like a damn superhero. A real Johnny Slick.
The thought made me grin even as I flew headfirst toward pain.
I hit the ramp just outside the hatch, tumbling end over end until I slammed into the arena ground below. The impact knocked the wind from my lungs, stars exploding behind my eyes as my helmet then right shoulder took the brunt of the fall.
Hands grabbed at me immediately, pulling me further from the flaming globe.
Voices shouted instructions I couldn't process. Someone rolled me over and over on the ground, trying to smother the flames that clung to my suit. When that didn’t work, another person opened fire with an extinguisher, covering me in white foam.
The world spun in nauseating circles, disjointed images flashing before me—concerned faces, the still-burning globe, the distant sky above.
When the flames were extinguished, I started struggling to my feet.
“Stay down, Mister Kane!” A frantic voice yelled. “We need to stabilize your neck!”
“Neck’s fine,” I grunted, standing anyways, swaying slightly as my equilibrium tried to reassert itself.
I yanked off the still smoking helmet and tossed it to the ground, wincing as the movement shot pain through my shoulder.
My face felt raw, my lungs burning with each breath.
As my vision cleared, the crowd around me resolved into distinct figures.
Stagehands. Safety crew. Asher, looking both thrilled and concerned in that uniquely pyromaniacal way of his.
No, that asshole didn’t look worried. He was just excited he got to set another damn fire.
I took one angry step towards him, but then I saw Lucy.
She pushed through the circle of people, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear and relief.
Her hair—the parts that were still silver and not discolored from dried blood—caught the light from the still-burning globe.
For a moment, we just stared at each other.
Me, standing there like some demon dragged from hell.
Her, looking at me like I was something precious she'd almost lost.
Lucy walked towards me, body trembling. When she got to me, she stared up at my face fiercely. “You can’t ever go in that thing again,” she said, her voice shaking as badly as her body.
I smiled at her, tasting ash and blood on my lips. “This is the life, babe. DemonX doesn’t say die.”
“That was terrifying,” she said after a moment, voice steadier. I could tell by the glint in her gaze that she wasn’t letting me win; she was just hitting pause on the subject. I loved the fighter in her. She could beat me up any day.
“Just another day at the Cirque, babe." I winked, reaching out and pulling her to me. “You seem to have embraced the spirit of it,” I added, reaching up to lift a section of stained hair.
“Nitro’s show was… an experience,” she said, pressing her palms against my chest, staring up at me with an unreadable expression.
Then those expressive eyes rolled skyward in exasperation, and the corners of her mouth twitched as she fought a smile.
“I might have bitten off more than I can chew with you five.”
“You can take your time biting and chewing,” I said, voice graveled with need now.
I leaned down and kissed her, not caring that I was sweaty as hell and reeked of smoke.
"You're all insane," she murmured after I pulled away, affection woven into each word. "Every last one of you."
I chuckled, wincing as the movement jarred my injured shoulder. “And you fit right in, Venom.”
“I do,” she said solemnly, her eyes flooding with warmth.