The Unbroken

XIV

The ride remains silent for most of the duration. It isn't difficult to enjoy a comfortable stillness when it's with someone you don't have to force a conversation with to avoid awkwardness. I think he also knows how much I need the peace before possibly having an emotional breakdown when we arrive. I can already feel the power of the feelings bubbling up as they try to push their way through my stoic facade. I sometimes wish I was able to completely control my sensitivity, or not be able to feel pain at all. However, the consequences of that would be worse than letting myself mourn for a few days.

I was right to believe there would be traffic. The journey from the B&B is averagely thirty minutes, almost two hours later and we're about halfway there. There's a massive pile up on the bridge into the city, probably road works or another accident. We're officially ten minutes late. Despite the morgue not closing until five, I want to get it done before tea time.

I hate getting caught up in long queues. Today isn't the right time to test the fuse on my road rage. Remaining calm in these situations is something beyond my abilities. Beast is a long distance bike, not one for sitting in a line for an hour.

"Right, I need you to trust me and hold on tight." I'm fed up with this shit. "Why?"

There's no cars coming down the lane next to us, meaning it's just our side that has been blocked off. If the car in front just moves an inch or two I'll be able to pull around enough to reach the division line. If I can just see what the opposite situation is, I might be able to get this over with quicker.

"Zoo, tell me why." Finally the car moves, "Just don't scream."

My hand twists on the throttle, releasing the clutch, we take off. Speeding down the middle of the road we bounce when moving over the painted bulges of the markings. The big brother's hands clamp harshly on my waist as he braces for a death that will never arrive with me driving. I warned him, he should have listened. I'm experienced at being reckless on the road, he has no need to worry.

"You're going to kill us!" It is always highly amusing that his voice hitches when scared. "I said not to scream. I know what I'm doing, we won't die."

When a truck starts racing towards us due to my speed, I duck into a gap between two Mercedes on our side of the road. His panting against the intercoms mic actually makes my ear warm and wet. The relief in those breaths causes me to scoff, idiot boy not trusting me. The vehicle zooms past us at seventy miles per hour, leaving a slight breeze in my hair from the massive air disturbance.

"We've only moved fifty yards." I groan, lifting my visor to rub my eye. "Don't do that again."

"I told you to trust me." The click of plastic makes him up. "I do but when there is a giant death machine about to trample us, I get a touch scared - oddly enough."

"No kidding. Hold on again." The path clears again, encouraging me to rev up. The weaving between cars and vans leaves him clinging to my back each time another approaches us. Most drivers leave large enough gaps between each other that I have plenty of places to wait out another line of cars going in the other direction.

"Goddess above, please don't let this girl's foolish driving be the cause of my death!" Offended, I sway the bike just enough to make him squeal. "Zoe!"

"I have done this before, you know?" Dipping back into the lane beside a Range Rover, the bulky man at the steering wheel nods. I am motioned to pull in front. Waving my thanks, I hum at finally being at the junction into the town.

Orange barriers corner off most of the roads as workmen dig up the concrete to reveal a broken pipe. A temporary light system has been set up to the side, telling me to stop and wait for the opposing side to drive through first. I can't help but be reminded of something my Father told me: in the Netherland's they do all construction work at night so that there is no traffic during the day. Honestly, our government is run by some twats who have no idea what the non-capital places are like.