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We shielded our eyes against the glare of the sun and the wind blowing down on us, trying to get a better view of the helicopter.

Without warning, Dylan grabbed my hand and we scurried across the rocky shore into the sandy region and up the slope toward the rabbit hole. He pushed me down, let me slide under first, and then followed quickly himself. Looking beside the road on the other side of the fence, I noticed right away that my bike was gone.

“Someone took my bike!” I shouted, partly out of anger and partly because of the high wind threatening to drown out my voice.

The helicopter had followed us and still hovered directly overhead, the door to the helicopter opened and a man with a megaphone shouted, “Halt, you are wanted for trespassing on government property!”

“Dylan, we need to get out of here.” I kept looking at the man and something about him seemed familiar. It put me on edge and I just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“Yeah, come on, we’re just going to have to run.”

Dylan and I took off at a sprint down the road and ran as fast as our feet would carry us. The helicopter kept pace with us, all the while the man hanging halfway out shouting the same thing repeatedly at us.

We ran full speed for at least half a mile before Dylan pointed at what looked like an abandoned, dilapidated barn with a shed to the left of it out in the middle of a field. “What is that?”

“It’s a barn.”

“Let’s go in that direction. Maybe we can elude them there.”

I didn’t know how great of an idea that was, but Dylan and I both changed directions and headed straight for the barn. Looking over my shoulder, I saw that the helicopter kept going in our former direction, but then doubled back to follow us.

It wasn’t long before we reached the shed. A hole in the roof acted as a skylight, illuminating the center of the inside. The interior was slightly damp and with a lot of random junk piled inside.

“Oh, this is perfect.”

“What? What is?” I wondered breathlessly, leaning over on my knees and gasping for air. All I could think of at the moment was that running through a real field was so different than virtual cross country.

“This,” Dylan pulled off a tarp partially covering something large.

I looked up from my gasping state and my eyes grew wide. I began shaking my head as Dylan straddled the object. “Oh, no. That’s one of those really, really, really old motorcycles. It is not like the game you played at your party.”

I could hear shouting outside. The helicopter had caught up to us and probably landed by now.

“Look, Allie, there’s no other option and we can’t outrun them on foot.”

“But, Dylan, look at that thing! It probably runs on gas!”

“No, there’s a solar panel right here. I’m sure it’ll work.” Dylan turned the key that had been sitting on top of the seat in the ignition and the motorcycle roared to life. “Come on, Allie. Get on.” Dylan revved the beast.

The doors to the shed opened up and startled us both. Dylan instinctively started the motorcycle forward and I grabbed onto him as it passed, flinging my leg onto the other side like I was mounting a horse.

As Dylan gained speed and struggled to keep the heavy thing straight, I tried to get situated so I wouldn’t fall off. “Hold on tight, Allie. We’re going to outrun this helicopter.”

I did as I was told and grabbed onto Dylan’s waist for dear life.

We cut through the field like a scythe, killing and tearing out the grass. Dylan continually struggled to keep it steady, whipping us into dead corn stalks as he veered into another field opposite the one we in which we’d found the shed.

Glancing backward, my loose hair kept whipping across my face barely allowing me to see. Through the strands, I could hardly make out the helicopter lifting off the ground and continuing its pursuit. Dylan kept his attention forward and on driving while I kept updating him from the back.

Just as Dylan finally seemed to gain good control of the bike, the fields started to get bumpier. I felt myself get jolted up out of the seat several times. Dylan had finally learned to keep the bike steady, though. I guess playing all of those virtual motorcycle games really did work in the real world after a bit of practice.

“Allie, hold on,” shouted Dylan above all the noise.

I spun back around from recently checking the helicopter’s status to the front to see why Dylan was repeating something he’d already told me. Everything became clear when I saw Dylan was about to go off an earthen ramp.

 â€śDylan, no!” I shouted.

But it was too late, Dylan soared off the ramp and we went airborne. I screamed in fear, but I had to admit part of it was elation…just a small part.

We landed and nearly fell over due to Dylan’s quick turns. We were closer to town and this place was more inhabited. The stares we got from people who hadn’t seen a manual anything in years were astonishing. We went through town down Main Street, dodging hover cars and people walking about.

I glanced back when I heard a blaringly loud noise and saw that a second helicopter had joined the first. The same man still hung out of the helicopter repeating the same phrase over and over. One more look at him and it all made sense. He wasn’t government. He was the private investigator I had run into outside the fence of the restricted beach.

“Dylan, the helicopter people…they’re not from my government. They’re from Oceania! They’re Mayor Aldridge’s goons!”

“Ugh!” was all I heard

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