In the distance he could see the main building and its two satellites. There was one runway on the left and another on the right. He rode into a parking space and stopped. As the engine died, he slid off. He used the last drops of his strength to push the bike over its lay stand. When he finished, he was breathless. He leaned on his kneecaps and gasped. Blood filled his head. The helmet was stuffy because he was no longer moving. He tore clumsily at the strap and rolled it from his head. It fell to the floor and bounced into a nearby car. The car park was a great, gleaming mass. It was nearly full. Security lights illuminated islands with orange signs that marked position. A car pulled in and David felt a brief flush of panic. But he calmed himself. Nobody knew where he was. The voice, the sensible voice, said: Remember the bikers up in Northumbria? Forgotten about them? I bet they haven’t forgotten about you. They weren’t farm workers.
What do You think about Déjà Vu: A Technothriller?
