Undercover High School

Chapter 8: Ghosts of the Past

“Reino…” Alister muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening beneath his helmet.

His old rival stood tall, swinging his helmet casually in one hand like he didn’t have a care in the world. His hair was a mess, eyes sharp and brimming with challenge, and that arrogant smirk on his lips made the air around them feel even heavier.

“Word spreads fast, Ray,” Reino said with a mocking tone. “The genius transfer student trying to play mysterious. Did you really think people forgot who you used to be?”

Alister remained silent. Reino was one of the few who knew his former identity.

One of Reino’s lackeys lit a cigarette and chuckled. “Come on, Reino. Let’s remind him who the real king of the streets is.”

“What do you want?” Alister finally spoke, his voice cold. But behind the helmet, his eyes burned like embers ready to ignite.

Reino stepped closer, just inches from Alister’s motorcycle.

“I just came to invite you to a little reunion. A race. You and me—tonight. If you win, you walk away. If you lose…” Reino grinned darkly. “You know what happens.”

Two bikes behind Alister crept closer. One on the left nudged his handlebars, an unspoken threat. But Alister didn’t flinch.

“I’m out,” he said firmly. “It’s over.”

Reino laughed loudly. “That’s cute! You think you can just run from me?”

The night wind grew colder. Streetlights flickered like they were about to die. But Alister’s gaze stayed fierce. Slowly, he twisted the throttle. His engine growled deeper.

“Of course I can…” he replied.

In a flash, Alister swerved hard to the right, catching his blockers off guard. His rear tire spun wildly, kicking up smoke and gravel. One of the motorcycles lost control and nearly toppled.

“Damn it!” Reino cursed, but Alister had already broken through the gap, shooting into the night like a bullet tearing through the dark.

“I won’t ever let you go, Ray Valen! You’re the one I must destroy!” Reino shouted, eyes locked on the vanishing figure of Alister.

“Go after him! Don’t let him get away!”

The other bikes roared to life, engines howling as they sped in pursuit.

The once-empty streets turned into a hunting ground for an old grudge.

Exhaust smoke lingered in the air as Alister raced through the shadows. But Reino and his four riders wouldn’t give up. Their tires growled against the asphalt, engines howling like starving beasts.

Alister weaved through a sharp curve nestled in thick trees, but one bike managed to cut in from the left, blocking his path. He hit the brakes hard, skidding slightly.

Instantly, two more bikes flanked him from behind and the right.

“You think you can run from me?” one rider yelled and leapt from his bike, aiming a brutal kick at Alister. Reflexively, Alister raised his arm to block. He staggered slightly but held firm.

His bike came to a complete stop. Slowly, he stepped off and removed his helmet, revealing a cold expression, a sharp jawline, and burning eyes.

“Fine. If this is what you want,” he said flatly.

Two men charged from the right. Alister ducked swiftly and slammed his elbow into one of their jaws—he dropped instantly. The second came from behind, but Alister spun around and kicked him in the gut, sending him flying.

Reino watched from his bike, grinning. “Still as fast as ever, Ray Valen.”

Alister’s glare hardened. “I’m not the Ray Valen you remember.”

Two more moved in. One swung a steel chain—but Alister caught it mid-air, yanked the man forward, and drove his knee into his stomach. The last tried to grab Alister, only to get knocked out by a sharp punch to the temple.

Alister’s breath grew heavier, but his stance remained alert.

Reino finally dismounted and stepped forward. “Now it’s my turn.”

“I’ve been waiting for this—to break you,” Alister growled.

“We’ll see who ends up broken,” Reino replied.

He moved with casual steps, but the killing intent was unmistakable. Two former street legends, two old enemies, stood face to face once more.

The wind picked up, scattering leaves across the road.

Without warning, Reino lunged. His first punch nearly hit Alister’s face, but Alister blocked it. They exchanged blows—punches, kicks, grapples—with deadly precision and near-equal strength. But Alister was faster.

With a swift feint, Alister knocked Reino to the ground and held his helmet just inches from Reino’s face.

“You picked the wrong guy, Reino. You’ll never take me down.”

But Reino only laughed, wiping blood from his mouth. “I won’t stop until you’re destroyed. This is all for Elira!”

Alister stood, his gaze like ice. “Then come at me. But I’m done running.”

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed his helmet, mounted his bike, and vanished into the night, leaving Reino bruised and seething with rage.

“I’ll make sure you suffer, Ray Valen. I’ll chase you to the ends of the earth—for Elira!” Reino vowed, spitting blood from his lips.

Alister tore through the road, his engine screaming with fury. His eyes burned with rage.

Elira…

He throttled harder. The wind lashed his face, but even the cold night air couldn’t cool the fire raging in his chest. That name—the one he had buried deep—had come back like a storm.

A fleeting image of her crossed his mind. Elira, with her warm smile, bright eyes full of life, and the gentle voice that once calmed his storms.

But that was long gone. Buried beneath the darkest night of his life.

His teeth clenched. His hands gripped the handlebars tighter.

Streetlights flashed over his face as he raced through a tunnel. In the echoing shadows of the concrete walls, Alister could no longer hold back the wave of memories crashing in.

Three years ago…

Pouring rain…

Siren wails…

Blood…

Elira lying helpless in his arms…

“Sorry…” he whispered back then, like a chant he desperately wanted to believe.

But Reino’s voice echoed again:

“This is all your fault, Ray. Elira died because of you, damn it!”

An old wound tore open—a wound that never truly healed.

With a sharp pull on the brakes, Alister stopped on a deserted bridge. The wind howled around him, and the river below rumbled faintly.

He removed his helmet and looked up at the black sky.

“Elira…” he whispered, his eyes reflecting sorrow. The cold fire within him turned into something deeper—guilt, pain. A scar buried in the deepest part of his soul.

***