Danelle's pov:
The early summer breeze waves across my face from my seat up here on one of the tree's tallest branches. My pencil flows freely over the empty sketchpad, trying to capture the morning essence as best I could. I know it's to early to wake up, but there's nothing more refreshing than the upcoming sunlight, highlighting the beauty of the reserve. The kind of sunrise that they always started the lion king movie with, was nothing compared to the beauty of this one.
The birds started to sing in a chorus as they then dance through the sky. Filling the atmosphere with their sweet melody as the reserve slowly starts to come to life.
The Polaroid watch dad gave me last Christmas starts to vibrate around my wrist. He said that this should help to be more on time for my schedules. Just because I forgot to keep an eye on the cake in the oven that one time for his birthday party he's labeled me to always being late.
Turning my attention back to my shaking watch, I quickly grab the branch to keep myself from almost falling out of the tree. My watch showing I'm gonna be late for my summer job shift. Miss Amanda's going to kill me.
I quickly pack my sketchpad along with my pencil back inside my dangling bag which I made out of mom's old jeans. I slide downwards of the tree towards my Yamaha FZ-09, steadying itself against the tree trunk. I jam the keys into the ignition, turning it clockwise into hearing the sound of the engine revving a few times. The thundering sound scaring the birds of their seats, in the process. I open the throttle wide, taking off at lighting speed towards the gates that separates of my world from the rest of civilization.
My family has a long history of being wild life protectors. It's not that I particularly like animals, I love them. A lion paw print would be God's poem to creation. The king of the jungle shook his mane and licked his paws. Powerful muscles beneath a fur of gold, sharp claws and a mighty roar. Nature's king of the beasts. I've lived here for quite some time now. This is my world and honestly, I wouldn't trade it for another.
Looking at the movements on my side mirrors, I spot four yellow hazy figures chasing after me. Making sure the road is smooth ahead, I look over my shoulder and sticking my tongue out at Nala, the mother cheetah who had her cubs a few weeks back, who was having them race against me and my motorcycle. They were still a few miles behind, but progress was showing. Their little legs with their adorable brown eyes reminds me of those window puppies you see at the pet store.
Once past the iron gate and the electrical fence a loud honking noise, coming from my friend's new Toyota, greets me at the other side of the gate. This girl's parents were obviously rich and had no faults to a T, but their daughter, Alora, was their complete opposite. We've been close friends ever since the first grade, it started when we had the same idea of how to punish, Tom Westley, who in our defence came looking for a fight first, when he pulled on our ponytails. Our parents grounded us of course, which was still totally unfair, but it never stopped us from having fun.
"Get in, your gonna be late for your first shift at work", she hurries me along. Letting out a ragged sigh, I flex my index finger against her forehead, which she screeches in pain. Despite being a brainiac, she can be real dense from time to time. She may be alble to quote the first 20 digits of Pi, but can't understand the concept of virginity.
"Earth to Alora. I have, what we like to call, a motorcycle. So I won't be riding in that death trap with you, thank you very much", I giggled because technically speaking, she doesn't even have her license, yet. But when you've got filthy rich parents, why not use their money to bribe people.
She was now rubbing her palm against her forehead while borring a hole through my head with her dagger glare.
"At least I'm not gonna miss my first day of work," she smirks maliciously.
"Shoot," I gasp before rushing past her, my engine roars to life, speeding towards town.
Parys wasn't such a bad place to live in. The town was founded and build from a farm next to the Vaal river. When it wasn't the river, folks came here to explore the chain of small shops filed with South African art and culture. Legend has it that the asteroid which extincted the dinosaurs landed right here. Which is why people say we live inside a dome. And I've never understood why movies alway portrays us as terrorists?
I park my precious in the parking lot in front of Miss Amanda's koffie shop. Racing up the side stairs into the pub. I quickly rush past the kitchen almost crashing into Carl, the chef, slipping on my apron. I dodge the baggett he throws at me, speeding as far away from the kitchen as I can.
My tekkies glide across the wooden floor towards the first customers taking their seats. They were a family of five, including the little blond hair boy playing with the fork by scraping it onto the table, desperate for some form of attention from his guardians. His parents, however, ignores his behavior by keeping their eyes glued to their phones. I don't even think they know where they are. Pooting my best foot forward I glue the kindest smile I can muster for them.
"Welcome to Heartbeat, how may I be of service today?"
Erik's pov:
A cloud of smoke leaves my lips as I give in to the ecstasy of smoking. My eyes gaze through out my airplane window, taking in the golden sunlight dancing on the clouds.
"Hey man, no smoking on the plain you know, captain's orders", Nate said leaning over his seat trying to take the cigarette from my lips. I roll my eyes at his annoyance before I put my cigarette out. My eyes narrow, giving him a challenged look. I will do the hell whatever I want whenever I feel like doing it. He's had his fair share of rough disagreements with the rest of the gang, you'd think he'd know his place by now.
"Well, dear Nathaniel, that is why the Boss loaned us his private jet to do with, as we please, so let me do my business in peace", I roared in irritations at him. Nate's been in the gang as long as myself. What's irritating about him is that he lives that annoying care free live, but does pull through whenever Mateo needs information. It's actually quite easy, since his father's head of the C.I.A.
"Alright dude, chill out", Nate sighs as he leans back spreading himself over the seats, care free. "You gonna tell me the scope for why you decided to suddenly becoming employed at your aunt's, who you've never had the courtesy of meeting, Pub for a whole freaking month. Does this have to do with the new shipment the Boss needs?", he turns his head looking at me. Curiosity killed the cat. A sinister smirk appears it's way onto my face.
"Now why would I want to spoil the surprise and risk having you move a step ahead of me?", my smile turns amused. "Besides you'll know soon enough and if I were to tell you, I'd be braking the code." The code is part of the blood oath we took when we first joined the Cobra's. Cliché enough, that if you should break it, you'll pay for it with your life.
Nate rose to the front of his seat checking his knife still strapped to his right leg. "And we wouldn't want that, now would we?", he chuckles in response. No, we wouldn't.
We parted ways at the airport, where I caught a bus, driving me in the direction to my so called 'loving aunt'. Hopefully, this month will be over before I even know it. I haven't exactly got the time to go running down the lower league's of Africa obeying Mateo's every beck and call.
The old hag driving the bus, gives me a side glance 'till she focuses her gaze back to the busy road. The bus starts to rock from side to side as she starts to drive this trash on wheels onto the highway, leaving the blinding city lights.
I know that look she gave me, when she took a sickoning long glance at me, I despise it all to well. Pitty. Everyone has given me that look sooner or later. It's so freaking irritating that people can't mind their own business. You better be worth all this trouble, Austin.
I feel the movement of the wheels over the the road, following the curves and greetings of each slope. There are those who chatter, their voices rising and falling with the sound of the engine humming.
Frustrated, I lay back in my seat while pulling my cap over my face, like the cowboys do in those old western movies. I peek through the small opening, taking one last look over the grassy fields, preparing for the long journey ahead.