Got it

Got it
Mason POV

Distant whispers pull me from the darkness.

They sound soft and muffled, like voices underwater.

My head throbs, like someone is using a hammer to pound my skull.

I wince, forcing my eyelids open. At first, everything is blurry.

I blink severally before my vision clears. Rough walls stare back at me. They are cracked and the plaster is peeling in strips. A single bulb hangs from the ceiling on a frayed wire, casting weak yellow light over a dirt floor scattered with old crates and a thin mattress where I'm lying. The air smells musty, like wet earth.

Where the hell am I? That's the first thing that comes to mind.

I shift, trying to sit up, but pain shoots through my spine, like a sharp knife carving through.

My mind races, grasping for memories. The engagement party— Hera's face lighting up as I slipped the ring on her finger, laughter echoing in the room.

Then Hera and I left the resort, driving back late at night.

Then... headlights blinding us from ahead as two black cars slammed into us sending our car falling off the bridge.

Hera's scream then…

A piercing ache explodes in my head, and I let out a loud grunt.

The door creaks open and footsteps patter in fast.

A young boy bursts through. He is skinny, maybe fourteen of age with messy black hair and wide eyes that dart over me like he is checking for threats.

He is wearing faded jeans and a shirt too big for him, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He has a bowl in his hands that seems to contain something steaming hot.

"Hey, easy there," he says, voice cracking a bit as he rushes to my side. He kneels, helping me prop up against the wall. His hands are calloused, rough for someone so young.

"Your nose — it's bleeding again." He says, concern etched on his face.

I trace the ridge of my nose and my fingers come out sticky red. I watch as the boy grabs a rag from a nearby bucket, dips it in water that's probably not clean, and presses it gently to my nose.

The coolness stings, but it helps. I watch him, confusion mixing with the pain. The room is a mess.

The roof is leaky and in one corner, a small stove huddled against the wall with a pot that looks like it's seen better days. Rundown doesn't cover it. It's okay to say that this place is barely holding together.

He steps back, wiping his hands on his pants, then picks up the bowl he came with earlier.

“Here, drink this. It's what my mother used to give me. Said it helps with the pain and fever." His eyes meet mine, cautious but kind.

I take the bowl, the warmth seeping into my palms. "Thanks," I mutter, sipping slowly.

It tastes awful but I don't complain and drink everything inside.

"Where am I?" I ask immediately I set the bowl down.

"My house," he replies simply, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"Or what's left of it. We're on the outskirts, near the river bend."

I nod, but it doesn't click. "Are your parents around?"

He looks away, his shoulders slump just a bit.

"No. My dad left for Chicago to look for a job but never came back.Mom... She got sick last winter. It's just me now."

The words hit me hard and something twists in my gut.

If I didn't survive that crash, would this be Lily's life afterwards?

He is too young to be alone like this.

"How did I get here? And the woman I was with, where is she?"

He tilts his head, frowning. "I found you washed up on the riverbank two days ago. You were beat up badly.

You looked like you had been in a fight with the water itself. I dragged you back here, patched up what I could.

There was no woman, though. Just you, mumbling in your sleep." He answers truthfully.

The words hit like a gut punch.

Hera. Where did she go?

My chest tightens, breath catching. I remember her scream as the car plunged.

Her door opened and she jumped before I escaped through the window so what happened next?

She is a good swimmer, isn't she?

Panic surges and I push off the wall, ignoring the pain piercing through my ribs and stagger to my feet. The room spins for a second, but I steady myself.

"I have to find her. She was with me. We crashed into the river together. I have to save her.”

The boy jumps up, grabbing my arm. His grip is surprisingly strong, stronger for someone his age.

"Wait! You can't go out there. It's not safe."

I shake him off gently. "What do you mean it's not safe?"

He glances at the door like someone might burst through.

"After I rescued you, weird people have been sniffing around the village and asking if anyone's seen two strangers.

They say it's a man and a woman and from your words, you are the man they are talking about.” He explains.

For a moment, hope surges inside me. They must be my crew looking for me and Hera.

“They are wearing masks, black ones that cover their faces and are very armed. They even raided a few houses yesterday and took some of the young girls.” The boy adds and I frown.

“ Took some girls?” I ask to confirm I didn't hear it wrong.

He nods.

“ Said they were 'recruiting’ them for a jobs in the city but everyone knows it's kidnapping. The cops won't touch them. It's either they are too scared or they were paid off. I can swear it's the latter."

My stomach drops, cold dread replacing the spark of hope from earlier.

That description doesn't fit us. We protect our own and never prey on innocents.

My fists clench, nails digging into palms. Anger boils up, mixing with fear for Hera. If they're hunting us, and they got to her first...

"You okay?" The boy's soft voice pulls me from my thoughts.

I shake my head. How can I be okay when Hera is out there, I don't know where.

I don't if she is alive or badly hurt and now we have people hunting us down?

“ What's your name, boy?” I ask.

If I can't go out, I will have to use him to find anything about Hera, if she was seen anywhere around here.

“ I'm Leon.” He answers.

“ Leon, can I ask for a favour?”

“ Anything that isn't illegal.

I know you can fight. I found this on you." He reaches under the mattress and pulls out my gun.

He hands it over carefully, like he knows what it is. Maybe he does, this is America after all.

I take it, checking the clip. It's still loaded. Relief washes through me. With this, I am not completely defenceless.

"Thanks, Leon. I'm Mason." I tuck it into my waistband but the worry gnaws deeper.

More than myself, I am worried about Hera.

Leon shakes his head. "Even with that, you can't take them all. There are still around a dozen of something.”

He's right. My body is already a wreck.

Every breath pulls at bruised ribs and my head is still pounding. But sitting here? It's not helping shit.

“ Do you have a phone? I need to make a call.”

If I manage to get to contact Zero, he can help me find Hera faster.

Leon scratches his head. "I don't have one. The signal is crap out here anyway. But I have a friend who has an old burner. I can sneak over, borrow it, make the call for you."

Hope flares again.

I grab a scrap of paper from the crate, scribble Zero's number with a stubby pencil Leon hands me.

"I'll have to trouble you to find your friend and call this number. Tell him it's Mason and inform him of this location.

He'll know what to do."

Leon nods, pocketing the paper. His eyes shine with a mix of excitement and worry.

"Got it. Stay put and don't go anywhere, I'll be quick." He slips out the door, leaving me alone.

The silence that follows feels like a heavy stone, pressing down on me.

I sink back onto the mattress, as emotions crash over me.

I feel guilty for dragging Hera into this mess. She wasn't one of us Riders, just my partner, my rock. Dating me pulled her into the crossfire.

Minutes stretch into what feels like hours. I stare at the walls, mind replaying the crash and Hera's voice calling my name before it all went black.

I try to close my eyes but those images remain, haunting me.