Stuntman Randy ‘Ryo’ Maclean felt his heart speed up as adrenaline started to flow in anticipation of the next stunt he’d be involved in. He wouldn’t have called himself an adrenaline junkie, but that wasn’t to say that he didn’t love the thrill that came with his job. If he didn’t relish all the action, drama, and excitement, he would have chosen a different profession, but in all truth, stunt work was less hazardous than most people thought.

Yes, there were risks involved, but that was the case with a lot of jobs. He considered being a cop, or a soldier, or a construction worker more dangerous than being a stuntman, because there was a greater level of unpredictability involved. Stunt work was all about control of the props and the environment, precision and carefully measured risks. Cops couldn’t rehearse every detail of an arrest, soldiers didn’t get to plot out every move in a battle, construction workers didn’t rigorously test every piece of construction material before putting it in place. Stuntmen, on the other hand, planned, plotted, tested, and rehearsed everything, over and over, until they had it all fine-tuned, and the risk to those taking part was minimal.

Accidents still happened sometimes, mistakes still occurred, there would always be the possibility of getting injured, or even killed; such things did happen occasionally. The irony was that it was usually the easiest, most straightforward stunts that resulted in tragedy. There were always things that couldn’t be prepared for, an element of unpredictability remained no matter how much careful planning went into each stunt, but knowing the risks meant that stunt men and women were always alert for potential problems, and quick reflexes, along with suitable protective gear, were often enough to prevent disaster.

“Ready, babe?” Dee Laytner asked as he joined his stunt partner and lover.

“Always.” Ryo and Dee had rehearsed the stunt at least a dozen times, had checked every inch of the dirtbikes they’d be using in the chase sequence, had ridden the route several times, at a slower speed than they’d be travelling during shooting, and had walked it as well, making sure that any potential hazards had been cleared away.

The chase would take them along a busy street, weaving in and out of traffic, then into a multi-storey parking structure, heading upwards level by level to the roof, and then jumping their motorcycles across a gap to land on the roof of another building while the police, following in squad cars, would be left stranded, watching the criminals make their daring escape.

Airbags were in place between the buildings, and anything that might be a hazard should either of them fail to make the jump, had been removed, but they’d tested the bikes at various speeds jumping considerably further than they would need to. They knew the minimum speed required to cover the distance between the two buildings, they’d tested the ramps for take-off and landing, they’d triple-checked their brakes, and all their gear… All that was left was to put their helmets on, start the bikes, and ride!

A gofer ran up to them, to tell them the director was ready; the cameras would start rolling as soon as he called Action.

Helmets on, gloves on, motors running, hearts pounding with excitement, the thrill of anticipation racing along their nerves, heightening all their senses… There was nothing like it in the world, no other job could begin to compare, and while neither man was in this purely for the adrenaline rush, that didn’t mean they didn’t relish it.

“Action!” Dee and Ryo heard faintly over the roar of their engines. The clapperboard snapped, the guy holding it leapt clear, and the two motorcycles, side by side to start with, raced forwards, dodging at speed around and between moving vehicles driven by other stunt personnel, police sirens blaring out behind them.

The turn into the parking structure was a tight one, so they had to cut speed a little. Dee was in the lead, Ryo a couple of yards back and to his left. The barrier, made of painted polystyrene, splintered harmlessly, and then the two stuntmen were racing each other up the first ramp. Around and up, around and up, never stopping, barely slowing, as the police cars trailed them through the structure, and then they were on the roof, where another camera unit waited to film the climax of the stunt, everyone on edge, willing everything to go off as planned.

Ryo was ahead now, as planned, aiming for the exact centre of the ramp leading up to the top of the parapet surrounding the roof. He hit it a little faster than intended, but faster was better than slower, it just meant that he’d overshoot the landing ramp, and that wouldn’t be a problem. Dirtbikes were designed for rough landings. Dee trailed by a mere three yards, but Ryo wasn’t thinking about his lover, only about the machine beneath him, keeping it steady as it soared through the air and preparing himself for the jolt as he touched down safely on the other roof, heading for the open stairwell door. He could practically feel Dee landing behind him, hear the rattle of the ramp as his lover touched down on target, but then his own bike was through the door and bumping down the steps inside.

Unlike the characters they were playing, they took the elevator down before mounting their bikes again, riding through the lobby of an office building, and out onto a street, into an alley, where they ditched the bikes and grabbed the loot, then around a corner to a waiting car… Except that by that point, the stuntmen had switched places with the actors playing the criminals, so Dee and Ryo returned to the bikes to make their way back to their starting point.

“Think we’ll haveta go again?” Dee asked.

Ryo laughed. “You just want to take the jump again.”

“Hey, they want it, I’m up for it.”

“I’ll be just as happy if we’re done.”

“Liar.” Dee grinned at his lover. “You get the chance, you’ll be rarin’ to go again.”

It was true, and Ryo couldn’t deny it. “Okay, yes, that was fun.” He really did love his job.


The End