Читать книгу An Angel Under The Skin - Virginie T. - Страница 4

My body is white-hot, my feet firmly planted on the ground, and I stare intently at Diego. The roar of my motorbike reverberates throughout my body. I merge with my machine. I become one with my GSXR. My bike is my baby. I take care of it every day, I regularly maintain its engine, and I make sure that everything is in good working order and in good condition. With a car, a fault will cause an accident, but not necessarily your death. On two wheels, the slightest incident can be fatal. There is no bodywork to protect you. If you fall, it is your body that is smashed to the ground. That's why I look after my bike like the most precious of jewels. It is entirely original - why go and modify a flawless piece of silverware? - except for the suspension. I'm pretty short, even for a woman. So I had it lowered so that my feet could touch the road.

Diego finally steps up to the starting line, raising my stress level. We are twelve participants. Twelve excited bikers dreaming of victory, knowing that there will only be one winner. Some of them are roaring their engines, playing with the throttle to impress their opponents. I don't pay much attention. I only pay attention to the flag in the organiser's hand. As soon as he drops it on the ground, the bikes start. The first few seconds are decisive. Everything begins at the start. If you fall behind in the first few metres, you're finished. You will never catch up. This is also the moment of danger. In the rush to take the lead, there are many careless mistakes. The kind of mistake that makes you fall or knock over a competitor, like the rider of this green Kawazaki who just clipped the tyre of the bike in front of him before sliding sideways. His paint job is not going to be pretty. I don't linger to see if the rider gets up or not. The fall was not brutal. In any case, he won't be hurt badly. At worst, a broken leg if it got stuck under the bike. On my side, I pick up speed, swallowing the tarmac as if I had fire on my heels. The wind rushes under the collar of my jacket, caressing my skin with vigour. I love this feeling. The lights of the city flash before my eyes, the competitors are still visible in my rear view mirror. However, most of them are already too far away to have any chance of catching me. The biggest danger at the moment is the traffic. It is Saturday evening. There are many vehicles in the street. Young revellers going out to a nightclub or going to a bar for a drink. I take care to slalom as little as possible so as not to lose speed. Unfortunately, a 4X4 comes along without warning and forces me to swerve. This is the opportunity my opponent was waiting for to go on the offensive. I can hear it before I see it. His engine roars under the powerful acceleration and the Kawasaki that Diego asked me to watch out for bursts into my field of vision like a fury. As I concentrate on straightening my own bike to regain speed after the necessary slowing down earlier, my opponent pushes his throttle hard.

He rides up the line of cars like a madman, not paying attention to the other drivers. The drivers are forced to move aside to let him pass between the lanes, at the risk of creating a collision. I can see where he gets his reputation from. He is more interested in winning than in his own life, but also without any consideration for the lives of others. This is not my case. I intend to grow old a little longer. So I choose to play it safe and stay at a reasonable distance from the leader without letting myself get too far ahead. I take a series of tight corners and long straights, each time gaining a few precious metres that will make all the difference in the last straight. My bike has nothing to envy to his. Like his, my bike easily climbs to 300 kms/h. I hold on with all my strength to stay in the saddle under the impetus of the 220 horsepower. My arms are tense from the effort and I know in advance that they will be sore for several days. I arrive at the last bottleneck, the one before the bridge just before the finish line. It's up to me to show this handlebar freak the difference between driving and running. I square my shoulders even more if possible, squeeze my thighs over the body of my GSXR to become one with my machine and lie down completely on the tank to keep the wind resistance to a minimum. My face does not protrude from the protective bubble. From a distance I'm sure I'm barely distinguishable from the bike. Luckily, there are fewer cars on this part of the course, which allows me to do more manoeuvres without taking risks. I make up for my delay at high speed, choosing to take the bridge on the left to get away from my competitor who is going to the right. I have almost passed him when he suddenly turns and cuts me off. I brake as much as I can without taking the risk to make a sun over my handlebars and turn in the opposite direction. Unfortunately I am too close to the pillar and the Kawasaki doesn't give me any leeway. I know long before it happens that I can't avoid it. Well, well before is a bit of an exaggeration. Some people say that before dying, you see your whole life flash before you. All I see is a huge concrete pillar that I'm running into. I want to scream my fear, but the sound is stuck in my throat. I think of my parents. Were they scared? Did they think of me just before the accident? Did they even have time to say "I love you" one last time before they died? This is my biggest regret. To die before I met the person who will make me want to live.

The shock is unbelievably violent. I feel as if my bones are literally crushed between the pillar of the bridge and my bike. The noise is even more frightening than the sensation, if that's possible. My whole body cracks, the bike screams as much as I do in an outburst of broken metal and plastic. I cry for myself and for her. When everything gets quiet, my body feels like it's on fire and my ears are ringing. Through my cracked helmet visor I see a motorcyclist slowing down beside me. Help. I'm going to get help. My hopes are dashed when I recognise the flames on the helmet of the driver who sent me into the fray. My disjointed body prevents me from telling him what I think of him. I'm dying to make him swallow his sadistic smile as he towers over me. Strange how my mind is alive while my body is broken. His bike speeds off after he gives me a final wave. My lack of movement has misled him. He thinks I am dead. I am far from it and I hope that if I succumb, I will come back to haunt him. Soon, or long after, I don't know, a commotion forms around me. A hubbub rises. Only no one comes to my aid. I am cold, the pain has given way to a general numbness, which is preferable by the way, and my brain starts to slow down. I find it increasingly difficult to form coherent thoughts. I want to remember every detail to tell the police, only it is becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate. I can vaguely hear a tyre squeal not far from me and shouts, probably from onlookers who are standing idly by.

- ALEX !

Diego. Diego is beside me.

- Has anyone called for help?

My visor is raised with infinite gentleness. My friend is careful not to move my head.

- Hey, beautiful. What are you doing to us?

I try to form a word. I want to reassure him. I want to tell him that I'm still here and that everything is going to be all right, but I can't.

- Shh. Save your strength. The fire-fighters will soon be here. They'll get you back on your feet, my beauty.

I blink to show him that I've heard him, that I've understood him. A tear rolls down his cheek.

- I told you to be careful.

He shakes his head. I'm the one on the ground, yet I feel him as broken as I am.

- I should have stopped you from running. Damn it.

I let out a faint trickle of voice to comfort him.

- You are not responsible for me.

His mirthless laughter breaks my heart and soul.

- Don't give me that bullshit. Of course I'm responsible for you. I took you under my wing from the first day. You're like my little sister. Shit! Don't let me down.

I can feel the numbness slowly creeping over me.

- Come on, Alex. Listen. The sirens. Hold on.

The cold is gone. I can't feel anything but a gentle stillness. I'm not alone anymore. I was never alone. Diego is watching over me. I can let go.

- Hey! ALEX ! DON'T DO THAT!

I don't resist anymore and dive into the black hole.

I feel as if I am floating above my own body. I see myself, I see the doctors working around me. I watch them palpate me and stick infusions in my arm, take blood samples and stick sensors on my chest. It's very strange to see ourself, to know that we are being touched, yet feel nothing. I run my hand over my arm, but there is no hose, no bandage. I am a spectator of my own death.

- It is time.

I jump to the ceiling. I didn't think anyone could see me. I thought I was some kind of shadow or spectre. I turn to the deep voice that addressed me and my jaw drops at the sight of the man. What am I saying? He is not a man. Not quite. Despite his masculine appearance, the wings on his back do not deceive me. Immense, immaculate wings. I'm looking at a fucking angel! His eyes crinkle a little. Shit! Did I say that out loud? His mouth twitches under the smile he holds back. Shit once more! Is he reading my mind? I'm starting to panic. I don't want anyone to get inside my head! I start reciting my multiplication tables, which turns out to be more difficult than expected since I never really knew them by heart. This seems to amuse the newcomer a lot.

- Calm down Alexa. I don't want to hurt you. I'm not here to judge you.

I take a deep breath of air. That is, if I'm breathing. I'm not sure. Especially when I see my own body, my physical body, with a huge pipe coming out of my mouth.

- Am I dead?

- Like life, death is not as simple as one might think.

Great. An enigma. Precisely, in such a solemn moment, a riddle was missing. I've never been good at riddles. I press my lips together and bite my tongue. I believe. I don't feel anything.

- Which is it?

- The choice is yours.

- Can I choose to resume my life or pass into the afterlife? Is it up to me?

He nods his head in affirmation. Hm. Where's the catch? Because let's not fool ourselves. If everyone had a choice, there would be a lot less death on earth.

- You're right.

Ah ! I knew he could read my mind.

- The Ultimate Angel gives you a choice because your death is an injustice.

- I don't get it!

- It's easy: you still have important things to do on this earth and the Ultimate Angel is giving you the opportunity to do them. You would also be a blessing among us.

- What thing? And who is the Ultimate Angel? And what does that mean among you?

- I don't have the answer to your first question and I can't answer the second. As for the latter, the Ultimate Angel feels that you belong in the eternal resting place, if that is your desire. Now you must choose. However, I warn you, staying alive will cost you more than you can imagine. To go against death is not trivial.

And one more riddle, one. It's surreal! I am talking to an angel and I have the right to choose life. Moreover, I should pay the price. A high price. Decision, decision...

- I want to live.

I've never been afraid of challenges. I like challenges. The angel nods and snaps his fingers. I feel like I’m being propelled forward, towards my body, as the angel's deep voice echoes in my head.

"Fight to survive. You will not remember me, but I will watch over you as long as the Ultimate Angel will let me.

After an endless fall feeling, I regain possession of my body, my soul and my pain. I would like to shout out my suffering, but I am as if paralyzed. My eyes do not open. I can't make any movement. I feel as if I am in a body that no longer functions, that does not belong to me. But I can hear everything.

- The heart has started again. Encephalogram OK. No pupillary reaction. Multiple fractures. Probably cranial haemorrhage. She's in a deep coma. Run her every Glasgow tests. I'll let her friend know she's in a critical state.

Diego. It must be him. I'll fight for him. I'm gonna get through this. I'm going to live and make the man who sent me here pay.