Wheels vs Wheels

Run-and-Gun:

Bursting through the front doors of the bank, my new backpack full of cash, I run to my motorcycle.

Hopping on and turning the key, my bike's engine roars to life and in less than a second, I drive away.

"Hey," the bank's security guard screams, running through the doors. "Stop!"

The idiot actually trying to stop me, runs for a bit, only to stop when he sees me already more than halfway down the block.

Driving right through an intersection, cars screeching to a stop as I pass them, I hear the familiar sound of sirens behind me. Looking back, I see two cop cars that must have been hiding.

"Pathetic," I say, reaching for my machine gun. Fully loaded, I aim my gun at the cop cars and start shooting. Sparks fly all over as the cops start to swerve uncontrollably. Moving left and right, it's only a matter of minutes before they take such a sharp turn that they flip over.

"Haha," I laugh, raising my gun into the air. "You're going to need so much more than that if you want to catch me!"

As I celebrate, I start to hear the sound of another engine, another bike engine. It seems to be closing in on me.

About to enter another intersection, someone cuts me off and forces me to stop.

Thrill Rider:

"Easy," I say, lending to my side and somehow driving in a circle. "Easy. Easy there. Easy does it. Don't fall. Don't fall."

Finally stopping, I wave away all the smoke and look at Run-and-Gun. He's wearing his motorcycle helmet so I can't tell if he's looking back at me or not, but still. I imagine so.

"Thrill Rider," Run-and-Gun says, surprisingly putting his gun down. "I was hoping to see you again."

"Run-and-Gun," I say, shooting him a wave. "Or would you rather I called you Jason Rider?"

By now, the intersection is empty. Everyone on the sidewalks had run away, and the cars have either backed up or been abandoned. It's just Jason and me.

"You did your research," Jason says, turning the handles and making smoke pour out of the tailpipe. "Doesn't matter. You may have gotten yourself a new set of wheels, but I'm an expert when it comes to two-wheelers. You can't catch me. After all, I'm called Run-and-Gun for a reason."

Not wasting another second, Run-and-Gun kicks against the street and launch himself down the road.

Doing the exact same, I kick against the street and launch myself after him.

Driving right into the oncoming traffic, all I can hear is the sound of cars honking and people yelling as I lend left and right to try and avoid crashing into anyone.

"I can't crash," I say, "I don't have insurance for this. Not that I think I can even get insurance."

Nearly slamming into an oncoming car, I lend to my right and kick against another car. The driver yells at me as I accidentally push myself onto the sidewalk, I now have to lean left and right to dodge the people.

"Excuse me," I yell, "Pardon me! Please don't be mad at me! This is my first time riding my motorcycle outside! Minus the time I stole it!"

Crashing into a trashcan in order to avoid running into a couple, I swing my hand and sway away an empty Chinese box.

Leaning to my left, I turn back on the street and behind Run-and-Gun.

"I'm so close," I think, "I'm so close."

Reaching out my hand, I try to grab the backpack full of cash but Run-and-Gun must have seen me because he kicks my bike and knocks me away.

Almost crashing into an oncoming car, I quickly turn back and dodge that car. However, I slam into another one and skid against it.

Taking a little bit of the red paint with me as I follow after Run-and-Gun, I turn back to the driver as she gets out of the car and looks at me.

"Sorry," I say, waving at her. "My bad."

Turning back, I lower myself in the hope to pick up some more speed.

"I have to stop Run-and-Gun. Before I cause any more accidents."

Once again, getting close enough to Jason, I lend forward to try and grab his backpack. The backpack is just out of my reach. Lending a little bit further, my finger touching the fabric, I'm about to grab a strap, but as my fingers close in, Jason turns into an alleyway.

"No," I say, watching as he shoots down the alleyway. I only stop watching as I hear the sound of a car honking. Turning back, I see myself about to hit a garbage truck dead-on.

Brian Wane:

"Come on," I say, checking the time on my phone. "Come on, Micheal. Where are you?"

I jump up and down and look left and right.

"Micheal, where in the world are you?"

Thrill Rider:

I scream and pull the handle to my right. Taking such a sharp right turn, I manage to avoid the garage truck but instead slam into a wall. Screaming as I hit the wall, I push off against it and chase after Run-and-Gun. Surprisingly, he's at the end of the alleyway, just looking at me.

"Smooth move," Run-and-Gun shouts as he raises his foot off the ground. "But you're going to need more than that to keep up with me."

Laughing as he rides away, I suck up the pain in my arm and chase after Run-and-Gun. The two of us riding through the streets of Los Angeles, swerving and dodging cars and trucks, I finally get the opportunity I've been waiting for. Side-by-side with Run-and-Gun, he pulls out his machine gun. About to fire, I hit his hand with one of my batons.

Run-and-Gun screams as he drops his weapon. Looking back at it as it falls, I think fast and shoot forward. Sticking my baton in the front wheel of Jason's motorcycle, the wheel stops and Jason flies forward. Flipping over and landing on his backpack, he pushes himself up and tries to get away but luckily for me, I still have my wheels.

As Jason starts to run away, I ride right up to him and hit his leg. He falls back onto his backpack, but unlike last time, police officers arrive in time. Stopping and getting out of their cars, they run and catch Jason just as he gets up and tries to run away. Screaming as the police officers carry him away, a few of the officers notice me.

"Hey," I say, waving at them. "Busy day?"

Without replying, they reach for their pistols but before they can draw them, I kick against the street and ride through them. Lending down and grabbing my baton, I wave at the police officers again as I ride down the street.

"Sorry," I yell, "But I got things to do so I can't give a statement, but I think you guys can do without it. Bye!"

Taking a lot of unnecessary twists and turns, I shake off anyone who might have seen me before finally rolling down into the hotel's underground parking lot. Coming to a complete stop, I kick down the leg and let my motorcycle stands. Getting off, I take a few steps, and then fall down.

"Ouch," I say, blowing away some dust. "Ouch. I think I think I'm going to rest here for a little bit."

I move my body to get comfortable and hear some bones crack.

"Ouch," I say, some tears falling down.

Brian Wane:

"Damn it, Micheal," I say, slamming my hands down as I enter my room. "Where were you?"

I pull out my cell phone to try and call Micheal for the million times today and once more, it goes to voicemail.

"Ahh," I scream through my teeth. Rubbing my head, I sigh before letting my hands fall. "Fine then, Micheal. If you don't want to help me, then that's fine."

I hold down the button and turn my computer on.