While Ben York kept things running back at the pizzeria, Leon Carter spent the evening racing from one delivery to the next.
Between his riding skills and his familiarity with the streets, Leon could usually finish an entire batch of deliveries in about forty minutes—considerably faster than the other drivers.
“Just one left.” Leon checked the address in his hand, glanced around to get his bearings, then slipped his helmet back on.
“Once this one’s done, we can close up for the night.” The sun was already sinking beneath the horizon.
Old York’s Pizzeria would shut down after the dinner rush.
They could certainly make more money by staying open later, but Ben had never cared much for squeezing every possible dollar out of the business.
There would always be more money to make tomorrow.
When it was time to rest, you rested.
As Ben liked to say, there wasn’t much point in making a living if you forgot to actually live.
Leon agreed completely.
He worked to enjoy his life, not to sacrifice it for a bigger number in a bank account.
If earning money ruined your health and took away all your free time, what exactly was the point?
So you could hand it all to a hospital later?
The motorcycle’s engine growled beneath him.
Leon hummed quietly to himself and twisted the throttle.
The bike shot down the mostly empty street.
He’d discovered several shortcuts like this one while making deliveries over the years.
Knowing which side streets to take and which intersections to avoid was a large part of why he could finish his routes so quickly.
It didn’t take long for him to reach the final address.
The customer who opened the door was a curvy blonde woman who seemed considerably more interested in Leon than in the pizza he’d brought her.
Her eyes traveled over his face and athletic build before she leaned against the doorway with an inviting smile.
“You know, I ordered way too much.
You could come inside and help me finish it.” Leon looked at the pizza.
Then at her.
Then back at the pizza.
“Tempting, but I’ve got somewhere to be.” Her smile turned even more suggestive.
“You sure?” “Pretty sure.” Leon handed over the order, wished her a good night, and escaped before the delivery turned into something far more complicated.
Back beside his motorcycle, he shook his head with an amused smile as he put his helmet on.
“People are way too friendly around here.” The image of the woman’s deliberately provocative pose flashed through his mind.
Very, very friendly.
By now the sun had completely disappeared.
A crescent moon hung overhead, casting pale light across the streets.
There were fewer pedestrians and cars at this hour.
Which, as far as Leon was concerned, meant one thing.
He could get home faster.
His stomach growled.
Leon patted it.
“Yeah, yeah.
I hear you.” He’d been running deliveries all afternoon, and apparently his body had decided it was done being patient.
“Let’s get back before I start eating the pizza boxes.” He twisted the throttle.
The motorcycle surged forward.
A dark blur raced through the streets.
Leon loved this feeling.
The rush of wind.
The vibration of the engine.
The road disappearing beneath him.
Ever since his rebirth, his unusually sharp mind had given him advantages in more areas than academics.
Driving was one of them.
At high speed, his thoughts remained calm and clear.
His perception seemed to sharpen until the world around him almost felt slower while he kept moving faster.
There was something addictive about it.
Unfortunately, Leon wasn’t the only thing moving through the night.
At an intersection ahead, a small black cat staggered into the road.
Something was very wrong with it.
Its body twitched violently every few steps.
Its eyes were completely black—no visible whites, no recognizable pupils, only a strange, bottomless darkness.
White foam dripped from its mouth and clung to its whiskers.
Every few seconds, one of its limbs jerked unnaturally.
The sight would have been disturbing in broad daylight.
At night, with its dark fur almost blending into the shadows, it was downright unsettling.
Leon never saw it.
He was watching the road ahead, focused on getting back to the pizzeria before hunger started eating a hole through his stomach.
The cat stopped twitching.
Its pitch-black eyes locked onto the approaching motorcycle.
Then, just as Leon reached the intersection— It lunged.
The black cat shot across the road like a missile, passing inches in front of his helmet.
“SHIT!” Leon reacted on instinct.
His hand crushed the brake lever.
That was a mistake.
The motorcycle stopped much faster than Leon did.
Momentum ripped him out of the seat and launched him forward.
For one brief, unpleasant second, he was airborne.
Then he hit the pavement.
Hard.
The motorcycle flipped several times behind him before disappearing into a drainage ditch beside the road.
Leon wasn’t nearly as fortunate.
He bounced.
Rolled.
Hit the pavement again.
Rolled some more.
By the time he finally stopped, he couldn’t even tell how many times he’d gone over.
For several seconds, he simply lay there.
Everything hurt.
His shoulders.
His back.
His legs.
His arms.
Probably a few places he didn’t know were capable of hurting.
Leon stared at the night sky through his visor.
Please tell me I didn’t break anything.
With a groan, he pushed himself upright and slumped against the roadside.
“What the hell was that?” He winced.
“What kind of cat jumps at a moving motorcycle?” Leon looked around.
The black cat was gone.
It had probably disappeared into the trees beside the road.
“Unbelievable.” Of all the ridiculous ways to crash…
He slowly raised one arm and removed his helmet.
“Ow.” Using the moonlight, Leon began checking himself for injuries.
His clothes were another story.
The pavement had torn holes through his sleeves and pants, leaving dirt and dust smeared across the fabric.
But underneath…
Nothing.
Leon frowned.
He checked again.
His forearms were fine.
His legs were fine.
No blood.
No torn skin.
Not even the road rash he should’ve had after being thrown that far across asphalt.
“Am I seriously this lucky?” He turned his arm beneath the moonlight.
“My clothes got destroyed, but I’m fine?” That didn’t make much sense.
Considering how violently he’d crashed, he should have been bleeding from half a dozen places.
Leon wasn’t about to complain, though.
Maybe he’d used up several years’ worth of luck in one night.
Then he looked toward the drainage ditch.
His motorcycle was lying at the bottom.
Leon stared at it in silence.
Then he sighed.
“Great.” He climbed down.
“Other people use drainage ditches to drift around corners.” Leon grabbed the handlebars.
“I just drive straight into them.” He shook his head.
“Clearly, I’ve still got a lot to learn.” The ditch wasn’t particularly deep, but the motorcycle was heavy enough that getting it back onto the road wouldn’t be easy.
Leon tested its weight.
If he couldn’t manage it himself, he’d have to call a tow truck.
At least his phone had survived.
Phones in this era were practically bricks.
If he’d been carrying one of those glass-covered smartphones from his previous life, the thing probably would’ve shattered the second he hit the pavement.
Leon paused.
That thought sparked another one.
He’d considered ways to make serious money before, but helping Ben revive the pizzeria had consumed most of his attention.
Maybe he’d been thinking too narrowly.
There were technologies and products he’d known in his previous life that either didn’t exist yet here or hadn’t developed nearly as far.
He certainly couldn’t recreate everything from memory.
But he didn’t need to.
Even identifying the right opportunities ahead of everyone else could be incredibly valuable.
If he approached it carefully, that knowledge might eventually earn enough money for both him and Ben to live very comfortably.
Leon filed the thought away for later.
First things first.
Get the motorcycle out of the ditch.
He searched the nearby tree line and found several sturdy pieces of wood along with a few large rocks.
After some experimenting, he arranged the wood into a crude ramp and braced it with the rocks on either side.
Leon stepped back and inspected his handiwork.
It wasn’t exactly professional engineering.
“Looks terrible.” He nudged one of the supports with his boot.
It held.
“Good enough.” Leon grabbed the motorcycle and began pushing.
He expected a struggle.
Instead— The bike rolled up the makeshift ramp almost effortlessly.
Leon blinked.
A moment later, both he and the motorcycle were back beside the road.
“That was…
easier than expected.” He looked down at his hands.
Maybe he’d simply overestimated how difficult it would be.
The motorcycle had wheels, after all.
With a ramp to reduce the incline, pushing it out shouldn’t have required that much force.
“Guess I was overthinking it.” Leon rolled his shoulders.
Nothing hurt anymore.
That was strange too.
Immediately after the crash, his entire body had felt like one enormous bruise.
Now?
Almost nothing.
Leon shook his head.
Tonight had somehow managed to make him both unbelievably unlucky and ridiculously fortunate.
Unlucky enough to have a deranged cat throw itself in front of his motorcycle.
Lucky enough to walk away from the resulting crash without a scratch.
He wasn’t sure which side of that equation was winning.
After getting the bike back onto the road, Leon gave it a thorough inspection.
A few scratches.
Nothing obviously broken.
The engine still worked.
Good enough to get home.
He put his helmet back on and climbed aboard.
This time, he rode toward the pizzeria with considerably more caution.
His stomach growled again.
Loudly.
Leon grimaced.
“I’m coming.” Another growl answered him.
“Seriously, what is wrong with you today?” He accelerated.
By the time Leon returned to Old York’s Pizzeria, everyone except Ben had already finished cleaning up and gone home.
The moment Leon stepped through the door, the smell of food hit him.
Whatever concern he’d had about the crash was immediately replaced by hunger.
He followed the scent like a bloodhound and found the dinner Ben had prepared for him.
Leon grabbed a slice of pizza.
Two bites later, it was gone.
Then another.
And another.
Ben heard him from the kitchen and came out carrying a fresh plate of fries.
Seeing Leon devour his dinner brought an approving look to the old man’s face.
The kid was young.
He was still growing.
A healthy appetite was a good thing.
Then Ben noticed his clothes.
His expression changed instantly.
The smile disappeared.
He set the fries down and crossed the room in several quick steps.
“What happened to you?” Ben immediately began looking Leon over.
Leon waved him off.
“I’m fine.” He took a drink of Coke to wash down the pizza in his mouth.
“Burp—” Ben’s eyes narrowed.
Leon ignored that.
“A cat jumped in front of me on the way back.
I hit the brakes too hard and dumped the bike.” Ben stared at him.
“But nothing happened.
Look.” Leon spread his arms.
“Just tore my clothes up a little.
Honestly, I got pretty lucky—ow!” Ben smacked him across the back of the head.
Leon clutched the spot.
“What was that for?” “What did I tell you before you left?!” Ben’s face was already turning red.
“I told you to slow down!
I told you to be careful!” “I was being—” “You crashed because you were trying to avoid a cat?” Ben looked ready to explode.
“Who told you to slam on the brakes at that speed?!” Leon opened his mouth.
Ben steamrolled right over him.
“You realize that when you’re moving that fast, sometimes trying to avoid what’s in front of you is more dangerous than hitting it?” Leon winced.
Ben pointed furiously toward him.
“You got lucky this time!
Damn lucky!” His voice rose.
“But what about next time?” Leon tried an awkward smile.
That only made things worse.
Ben stared at the torn clothes, the dust covering Leon from head to toe, and the idiot grin still hanging on his face.
The thought that Leon could have gotten himself killed over a stray cat made Ben’s blood boil.
“No more motorcycle.” Leon froze.
“What?” “You heard me.” Ben jabbed a finger at him.
“You’re done riding it.” “Ben—” “Tomorrow, you either stay home and study or go out and do something with your friends.” “Ben.” “You’re not coming here to make deliveries.” “Come on—” “I can afford another damn employee!” Ben reached into his pocket, pulled out a thick wad of cash, and tossed it onto the table in front of Leon.
Leon looked at the money.
Then at Ben.
“You’re seriously firing me?” “I’m seriously keeping you alive.” “My driving isn’t—” Ben turned around and marched back into the kitchen.
“Conversation’s over.” “I’ll slow down!” No response.
“I’ll wear extra protective gear!” Nothing.
“I’ll follow every speed limit!” From the kitchen came the unmistakable sound of Ben aggressively preparing pasta.
Leon sighed.
The old man was genuinely angry.
Which meant there was no point continuing.
For now.
Leon picked up another slice of pizza and took a huge bite.
If he couldn’t argue with Ben, he could at least channel his frustration into dinner.
Pizza disappeared.
Then fries.
Then more pizza.
Leon reached for another serving and suddenly paused.
His appetite tonight was ridiculous.
He’d always eaten well, but this was different.
He felt like he could clear out half the kitchen and still ask what was for dessert.
Leon looked down at his stomach.
“Huh.” Maybe he was going through another growth spurt.
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