Garrick took a sharp breath as the cascade of Scutters poured in, spreading like black, snapping oil. He dodged the first rush and waded through the flailing creatures as fast as possible. Some crunched underfoot; others began to roil in a frenzy of motion at the humans invading their midst.

Anna was holding his hand so fiercely he thought she might break it. Barbed claws caught and nicked their clothes as the Scutters lashed out, pyrethrin smearing onto the spindly black bodies. Garrick held his breath, not daring to hope and then the first shrieked and fell away. Others rapidly followed suit, landing on their backs, legs twitching spasmodically.

Garrick pressed forwards, carving a path through the bodies. His shins were lacerated in several places, but despite the blood soaking through the fabric of his trousers, the Scutters continued to dissipate.

“It’s fucking working,” he muttered, not daring to believe it.

He kept his focus, heading for a motorcycle showroom on the other side of the road, windows smashed and bikes tipped over in a mess of jutting metal. By the time he reached it, the ground at his feet was clear. Behind them, Scutters thrashed in a heaving, flailing mass.

We don’t have much time.

Garrick climbed over the threshold of the broken picture window and headed for the service desk at the rear, Anna still in tow. The key safe was in a prominent position on the wall. He flipped it open with his free hand and scooped out a handful of keys. Scutters rattled and chittered outside on the street, their agitation and volume of their cries increasing. Garrick didn’t want to be here when the back-up arrived.

They retraced their steps to the front of the showroom and he handed several of the fobs to Anna.

“Start pressing.”

She gave him a worried look but turned and pointed at the parked bikes. Garrick moved behind her, aiming the first key fob in his hand at the motorcycles. Nothing. Sweat trickled down his back as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. The next three he tried were all unresponsive too. Anna let out a stream of impressive profanities under her breath.

“It’s not working. None of these are doing anything.” She flung dead key fobs to the floor in frustration. Garrick had two left in his hand.

“Move closer. Batteries might be flat.”

He inched nearer, aware of the depth of Scutters approaching from outside.

Finally! Lights flashed at the back of the display.

He stepped forward as fast as he dared and pressed the fob again. The bike winked at him. It wasn’t new.

A Honda Fireblade. Serviceable.

He gripped the handles and slipped the key into the ignition. The dash lit up in pale blue light. There was half a tank of petrol. Enough to get them the hell out and safely to the Command Base.

“Help me with this.”

Anna rushed forward and began to drag another bike away from the front of the Fireblade. She grunted with the effort, squawking as a Scutter scuttled towards her. She let the bike drop, trapping the Scutter underneath. It convulsed under the heavy lump of metal pinning it in place.

With the Fireblade upright, Garrick swung his leg over the seat. Anna didn’t need telling. She jumped on, wrapping herself around his waist. She scooted up behind him, thighs pressed tight to his and he allowed himself a microsecond to enjoy the sensation, before he turned the engine and gunned the bike to life.

It caught the first time, letting out a throaty roar that echoed in the smashed-up showroom like the bellow of a woken beast.

Scutters froze momentarily and then spurred on by the noise, they rose in a high wave in the Fireblade’s direction. Garrick threw it into gear, and it powered forwards. Anna’s arms crushed his waist, holding on for dear life as the bike accelerated through the showroom at full throttle. Scutters were knocked sideways and flailed under the wheels as the tyres spun, trying to gain purchase on the smooth showroom floor. The bike tipped dangerously high on its back wheel, forcing Garrick to fight to bring it under control. If they slipped now, they were dead.

The front wheel dipped and bit solid ground again. Garrick pulled the accelerator hard. He wasn’t taking any chances. The Fireblade exploded out the smashed entrance doors.

Acrid sooty air invaded Garrick’s lungs. He blinked as his eyes took a second to adjust to daylight after the dark of the abandoned show room. Thirty feet away, Chittrix were cruising high in the sky through columns of black smoke. They clocked the Fireblade, their sleek bodies instantly coiling to dive.

He jerked the steering hard, forcing the back tyre to grind dust and gravel. The bike skidded sideways, struggling to find purchase. Anna’s arms were a band of steel around his waist as she pulled her centre of balance as close to his as she could. They hovered for a millisecond, tipped at a precarious angle, the engine gunning, and then the bike dived forward, barrelling past a charging Chittrix by inches.

Garrick ducked his head and opened the ‘Blade out, powering them away from the seething insanity.