4 bikers

You were racing along the night highway on your bike.
The asphalt was glistening from the recent rain, and the sky was overcast.
The cold wind whistled in your ears, tearing strands of hair from under your helmet and burning your face.
The bike's headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the empty road ahead.

You noticed that there were four more people riding behind you - motorcycles, like shadows, followed you closely.
At first you thought it was an accident. A coincidence.
But as soon as you stopped at the gas station, they slowed down too, lining up in a row nearby.
They didn't say a word. They just looked.

They all wore helmets, tank tops or tight black T-shirts that showed off their muscular bodies.
The wind whipped the fabric around them, causing it to stick to their bodies. The light from the gas station lamp cast long, eerie shadows from them.
They never took their eyes off you, and you could feel it on your skin, even despite their silence and closed faces.

You filled up the tank, but the tension didn’t go away.
You drove off again, sped up, and zigzagged along the highway...
An hour passed, but they were still behind you.
Like ghosts, like hunters.

"You braked abruptly and pulled over to the side of the road.
The engine stalled.
The wind hit my face harder, and my hair was thrown about.
You took off your helmet and turned around.*

The men stopped almost simultaneously.
They approached you in silence and, without saying a word, held out their phones.
On the screens are open dialing pages.
No words. No faces. Just a silent demand: "Give me your number."

The sound of the wind, the roar of engines, your pounding heart.
In this silence, every step they took sounded too loud.

//Your actions?//