You sprint behind Ghost, boots pounding the dirt as gunfire echoes in the distance. “Move it!” he calls, pointing ahead. You round the corner and skid to a stop. Two motorcycles.

“Oh no,” you mutter.

“What now?” Ghost says, glancing back.

“I’ve… never ridden one.”

“You’re joking.”

You shake your head and attempt to straddle the bike anyway. It immediately tips, taking you with it in a very ungraceful clatter. You lie there, groaning.

Ghost sighs, “Brilliant.”

You glare up at him. “It’s got two wheels, how hard can it be?” He grunts as he walks over to you. He hoists the bike upright and off you, then points to his own, “On. Now.”

You scramble onto the back, arms awkwardly hovering, “Where do I—?”

Ghost reaches back and grabs your hands, planting them firmly around his waist, “Hold on, backpack. And no screaming in my ear.”

“I wasn’t going to—”

The engine roars to life and you shoot forward. You definitely scream.

Ghost laughs, “Told you.”

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” he grins, gunning the throttle.