Guidance

[Corsair]

The air grew heavier, and I could smell a faint burning smell. I located a column of smoke. I nudged myself in that direction, my curiosity growing. As I approached, I noticed several human shapes around the pile of burning objects. Rather far out to have a tire fire. This wasn't burning rubber smell, though. This was burning flesh. The shapes spotted me, I could tell. Not only from the fact that they were facing me, but because bullets were whizzing past me, their whine drowned out from the cackle of automatic rifle fire. Must be military, bent on keeping us curios out. I tried to turn, but my handle bars were locked tight. The motor on my bike revved up, and the needle touched the far end. I had no control over my vehicle as I sped toward the military.

Nothing touched me as I zipped past. I could hear their angry Russian curses. My motorcycle just continued to accelerate, and I couldn't even bail off. It wouldn't be long-

The sound of shrieking metal ripped through my ears as I saw my front wheel finally give out. It bent and snapped off, and I went flying forward. I subconsciously maneuvered so that I landed on my back, and felt water. From the scenery going past at such high speeds, I assumed I was in a swamp. Or at least a lake. As I skidded over water at a surplus of 100 kilometers an hour, I figured that now would be as good a time as any to think up a new name for myself. I vowed that if I survived this event, I'd call myself Skip.

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