At the end of a small street where several narrow lanes converged, Sam came to a strip of cafes.
He hurried nervously along the rows of parked bikes and scooters, trying to blend in and go unnoticed by the early-morning cafe patrons inside. He slowed to a casual saunter, weighing up his options. How am I going to get out of here? He crossed the road, a solution perhaps presenting itself.
Mum never did let me ride a motorbike. He grinned to himself, remembering the dirt bikes at Bill’s uncle’s farm, where they’d raced through muddy tracks and done jump tricks.
Before Sam was a row of scooters. He worked his way down, looking for one that he could perhaps … yeah, maybe that one.
He bent down to adjust his shoelace next to an old Vespa scooter with a kick start. It belched out a cloud of blue smoke as he wobbled into the thoroughfare, a young woman running out into the street shouting Italian obscenities as he drove out of reach.
A few minutes later he was weaving north, as quickly away from Solaris as the little engine would take him. Bill would have loved this. In his pocket, his phone rang. He pulled over to answer, the engine idling loudly.
‘Lora?’
‘Sam, it’s Xavier!’
‘Xavier?’ Sam said.
‘Yeah. Don’t know … can hear … I’m … right?’
The crackly phone line and the fact that Xavier was somewhere incredibly noisy made it impossible to hear what he was trying to say. Sam killed the engine and pressed the phone tight to his ear.
‘I can’t hear you! Where are you?’ Sam shouted into the phone.
‘… Ahmed … from Cairo … message … and it’s …’ Xavier’s voice kept cutting out.
‘I still can’t hear you! I’ll call you back,’ Sam said, unable to make any sense out of the few words he’d heard. He hung up and dialled Xavier’s number. It went straight to voicemail. He tried again, with the same result.
Then Sam saw there was a text from Lora—
Eva and Gabriella with me. All OK. Solaris gone for now.
He typed in his reply.
Need to keep you all safe. Will contact once I know where I’m headed.
Sam put his phone back in his pocket and took off once more, merging with the traffic, the cool early morning air on his face. As he got up to top speed, he thought of nothing but wanting to see Solaris and the Enterprise beaten for good. He’d won out twice now.
Eleven Dreamers to go. How hard could it be?
Sam swerved as a large black van veered in front of him, swearing loudly at the careless driver in some newly learnt Italian. As the van slowed in front of him, he was forced to drop down to its speed and noticed the foreign numberplate. Another van pulled up to his left. The van squeezed him until he was almost over onto the shoulder of the road.
What’s going on? Surely Italian drivers can’t be this bad!
Next to him, the van’s side doors slid open and Sam immediately recognised the wolf insignia on the uniforms of those inside. He was flooded with relief and began to smile.
German Guardians … they’re here to rescue me.
Then they pulled out their weapons.