Zoe was thrown back several feet. Her ears rang like telephones. Even though she was soaked, all of the hair on her body felt tinged with static. Her wet hoodie felt hot against her skin.

She clawed the sand—she had landed on her stomach—and looked up at her bike, or the remains thereof. It took a while for her vision to look past the pale Z-shaped flash that had engraved itself into her eyeball.

Zoe

H e l l o...?