Night Rider

Emergency

Rider blocked a well-aimed punch to her face. She spun and grabbed his outstretched wrist. Rider pulled his arm violently, rolling him over her back and slamming him to the ground. Right as she was about to land a heavy boot on his chest, her buzzer lit up. The surprise apparently distracted her enough that the man on the ground had time to kick her foot out from under her. She cursed and rolled up off her backside. She pressed the call button at the same time as she turned off her helmet's speaker.

"Hello?"

The man reached, again, for his gun. Rider spun for a roundhouse.

There was an asthmatic gasp on the other end of the line. "Yasmin?"

The kick landed, and the gun went skidding across the pavement.

"Mattel? Is that you?"

The man shouted in anger and dove for her.

"I think my heart finally gave up."

Rider dodged and caught his arm, using his momentum to shove him into a wall.

"Your what?" Then she stopped. Rider dropped the man. "Oh no. Ok, I'm coming." Rider leapt over the man and made for her bike. "I'm coming, Mattel. Don't worry."

The bike was off before the man even had time to crawl up off the ground. The news was going to speculate for ages why she had abandoned a fight. That criminal was one lucky bastard.

"What happened, Mattel? Talk to me."

"There's this pain in my chest and my arm," he wheezed. "It feels like there's something sitting on my chest. It's hard to breathe, Yasmin."

"It's ok, Mattel, just keep trying. I'll be there as soon as I can." Rider had reached the highway and ducked beneath the bike's shield. She twisted the throttle towards her, easily accelerating past 150.

"Don't go too fast, Yasmin. You can't help me if you're dead, too."

"Don't say that Mattel. You're not gonna die. Don't worry," she said as her throttle locked, "I'll be ok."

There were only a few times she had pushed her motorcycle to its very limit, and those had only been for brief periods. This was exhilarating, bordering on terrifying. Rider stuck to the lane lines as she flew past the cars in them. She could only pray no one decided to change lanes at the wrong time. The bike was humming beneath her. She didn't dare remove her hand to turn down the transmission, but she knew Mattel could hear the whoosh as she passed each car at lightning speed.

"Please, not too fast, Yasmin."

She ignored him, "You can't get to a hospital on your own?"

"I can't get off the floor. I tried."

"Crap." She drove past three consecutive cars. "Does that mean you won't be able to backpack me?"

"No, Yasmin, we're gonna have to take the Nightwheels."

Rider dropped her head to the speedometer. She swore she would never drive that thing. She had never, not once, been able to make herself drive the motorcycle the Night passed down to her, nor his car. They were his. The last time she opened the door she could swear it still smelled like his suit. She sped down the road, trying to come up with any way she could take Mattel with her on the bike.

"You have your license," he said.

"For a normal car, not anything like Night's jacked piece of equipment."

On the other side of the line, Mattel gasped sharply. Rider cursed again, wishing her bike could go even faster. She was so close. "Stay with me, Mattel." She sped off the freeway, narrowly avoiding two catastrophic crashes. Her heart was racing at the same rate as it would mid-fight. Rider shot down the backroads, the trees to her sides a blurry tunnel of green. The white dashes in the road had blended to one sharp line. A car on the other side would appear and be long behind her in the matter of a second. "I'm almost there Mattel. Try to breathe."

She could hear his breaths. Each one of them was a shuttering gasp. Rider pulled up, leaving a dark streak of black behind her. She needed to replace the tires soon anyway. "Which room are you in?" Mattel seemed unable to answer her.

She found him on the floor of the kitchen, the remains of a toast and jam snack were smeared on the floor. "I've got you, Mattel, just stay with me. You'll be ok." Rider stripped off her suit and jacket and lifted him in a fireman carry. The key to the Nightmobile had always been her own fingerprint. She held her breath as the doors opened. Yasmin slid Mattel into the passenger seat and vaulted over the hood of the car, sliding into the drivers seat. How different the seats of the car felt from that of her bike. She had to recall how the pedals and wheel worked before she hit start. And then she pulled out. The car was in civilian mode, so she only dared to push the speed limit by ten miles. She hadn't driven this slow in months. The whole time she held Mattel's hand, growing more and more fearful the colder it got. He was still breathing, his eyes fluttered when open, and he was certainly still capable of making noise, but every second seemed to take a toll on his body. She didn't dare imagine what her life would look like without him. She squeezed his hand, "I need you, Mattel. Keep fighting."

They arrived at the hospital, and Yasmin left the car in front, carrying Mattel in baby-style, calling for help.

Her knee bounced up and down. They had to operate, and she was left waiting in the hard plastic chairs in the lobby, praying for and at the same time hoping her name would never be called. Jason's contact was open on her phone. He was out on duty right now. If she called him, he would want to come, and then they would both just be waiting for the doctors in the hospital chairs. No, she didn't want to call him because she thought he would like to be there for Mattel. She wanted to call him because she needed someone to sit with her. The past few hours had been grueling. Thoughts of losing Mattel were impossible to keep at bay. She needed someone to tell her that he was going to be ok, or even to simply distract her for the time being. The situation was out of her control, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She hated that she needed company so badly. If Mattel was going to pass, she needed to be able to handle things on her own.

How lonely her life was going to be if he was gone.

"Yasmin."

Her head shot up, "That's me." A doctor invited her through the big doors. He sat her down in a chair. Her heart would not still. "He's ok, right?" she couldn't keep herself from asking.

"I'm very sorry. The doctors did the best they could."

Yasmin swallowed back the impulse to cry. "But this has happened before, and he was ok."

"There's only so much damage a heart can take. I am very sorry. He did live a very long life."

"There's nothing I can..." her voice died.

"I'm afraid not. He's already gone. I understand you must be very upset. I can give you as much time as you need before I bring in the papers."

If only she hadn't gone out tonight. Maybe if she'd ended the fight the moment she got his call. What if she had decided to push the speed limit more on the way to the hospital? She should have never put a cap on the motorcycle's speed. She needed to have been more comfortable behind the wheel. There were a hundred things she could have done better, and Mattel would still be here.

How was she going to tell Jason?