“...The reality is, no one knows what causes the end.” Revik was saying. “Your death itself might start the wars.”
He drove up and over the gravel shoulder. He aimed us back into the island between the north and southbound lanes, bouncing a rough diagonal line through the sloped grass. I realized he was heading back towards the north-facing lanes.
“Your presence here complicates things for both sides. The fact that you are telekinetic—”
I shouted over the engine and bouncing car.
“You pick now to get chatty?”
The GTX slammed into a hole and a rock, and I smacked my head on the roof, yelped. We were nearly across the island.
“Hold the wheel,” Revik said.
“What?”
He turned to look at me...
...and his eyes are silver once more, metallic. Inside, pictures flicker in an organic projector, a war happened and happening and about to happen in shadows and exploding lights. I see vultures around his head, raptors...
...and snapped out.
His body lay slumped over the steering wheel.
I leapt onto him without thought. Pushing his torso back, I slid into his lap and gripped the wheel, turning it sharply to avoid hitting a tree. Shoving my legs down between his, I jammed my foot on the accelerator over his leather boot.
Still, we’d slowed down, enough that the trucker pacing us miscalculated.
I drove us through a narrow gap between two trees as that same trucker hit his brakes, trying to head me off. Managing to just get in behind him anyway, I headed for the right lanes, swerving on asphalt and gravel as we abruptly accelerated out of the lawn...
When Revik jerked beneath me.
He grabbed the wheel over my hands, as if to steady himself. Remembering what he said about pain, I dug my fingernails into the skin of his knuckles.
“Wake up! REVIK!”
His eyes clicked into focus.
He looked up at me, briefly, then turned away, coughing. Blood speckled the glass of the driver’s side window. He wiped his mouth, but when I started to climb out of his lap, he grabbed my wrist.
“I need you to drive,” he said.
He was already moving out from behind the wheel.
Gripping the steering wheel, I considered protesting, but realized it was too late as he crawled into the passenger seat to my right and leaned between the seats to retrieve the gym bag from the back seat of the car.
Watching him, I perched on the edge of the driver’s seat to compensate for his long legs, gaining control of the car before I fumbled for the knob to move the chair.
I forgot about both things when a booming sound vibrated the sides of the car.
I ducked as I felt nicks from more shards of glass, glancing at the ragged hole punched through a rear side window.
The trucker accelerated from a few lanes over, leaning out his cab.
Revik opened the black gym bag, and pulled out a shotgun that looked like law-enforcement issue. He dug around in the bag for a box of shells. Cracking the cardboard open one-handed once he found it, he dumped a pile in his lap, then began methodically loading the Remington 870 with deft fingers.
He paused, giving me a quizzical look.
“How do you know that?” he said. “About the gun.”
I looked at him, blank, then at the gun. “Old boyfriend.” When Revik went back to loading, I said, “What are you going to do? You can’t just shoot them all.”
He continued loading the gun, not answering at first.
Then he glanced up at me again, his voice flat, “You have the right to lodge a formal complaint regarding my methods with the Council once we arrive. They will hear you, and with a great deal of sympathy...I assure you. But reminding me of the damage I’m doing to my soul won’t help either of us right now, Allie.”
I stared at him uncomprehendingly, saw no hint of sarcasm. When he seemed to be expecting a response, I could only nod.
“Okay. Sure.”
“Thank you.” He chambered the first shell with a smooth jerk of his hand, then leaned out the window.
I watched in the mirror as he aimed at the truck, firing as soon as he leveled the barrel.
The truck swerved and his shot went wide.
Revik aimed again.
He hit the grill that time, and the truck swerved behind another 18-wheeler.
Revik sat back, his pale eyes locked on the mirrors. I heard a bleep of loudspeaker and turned, saw a Washington State police car pull up alongside us. Inside, a red-faced officer leaned back stiffly in his seat, driving and glaring at us while his partner aimed a shotgun at Revik.
“Pull over!” the driver yelled. “Right now!”
I caught the barest whisper of Revik’s thoughts.
We are not the criminals. It is them. Help us.
The cop driving glanced at his partner. Confusion softened both of their faces.
We are in danger. Protect us. Please.
The officer nodded to Revik, indicating the highway ahead. He shouted, “...Go on. We’ll take care of this, sir.”
Thank you, officer.
The driver tapped his brakes, picking up the police radio mouthpiece and speaking into it as the car fell dramatically behind.
I looked at Revik, dumbfounded.
“Go faster,” he said. “They will do the same to us.”
I muttered something about free will, hammering my foot down on the gas. My fingers whitened as the scenery started to blur.
Revik shrugged in answer to a question I hadn’t asked.
“I thought you would prefer that to my killing the driver,” he muttered.
I followed the direction of his eyes through the rear-view mirror, saw the vibrating reflection of the cop car slow beside the truck’s cab, right before I heard the same blare of loudspeaker and warning tap of siren.
A second later, Revik turned to me.
“It’s done. Faster, Allie.”
The Washington cops’ siren blared back into life.
I already had the pedal down hard. Now I pressed it to the floor, feeling my chest constrict as the GTX leapt forward. We were definitely past my comfort zone in terms of my ability to navigate at high speeds. I was on the verge of being out of control when I felt Revik with me in the Barrier, directing my hands. I resisted at first—
Let me. You will learn.
Faintly, a grid appeared, a maze of bright lines that overlaid the scenery and cars. The grid showed how the drivers interacted with one another and the light of the Barrier. I could almost see what each driver would do—
Another blast hit the back of the car.
My eyes snapped to focus as Revik’s mind left mine.
He leaned out the window as I turned, propping the stock against his shoulder and firing. The sound boomed inside the car, deafening, right before I saw the cop car swerve to avoid his shots. The black hood erupted in smoke after Revik’s third shot penetrated the engine block.
The police car swerved again, then rolled.
I heard a squeal of tires, a sound like an explosion, but the crash sounds were rapidly receding already.
I swallowed back bile, trying to focus.
“They seemed nice,” I said. “Like nice people.”
He didn’t answer. A shot hit the back of the car with a loud plink and groan of metal. Revik leaned out again, firing at whoever was shooting at us.
His mind felt closed to me now, so I stared out the windshield, digging my nails into my palms every time drowsiness tried to overtake me, hoping like hell I didn’t kill us both. I was so focused on these two things in fact, staying awake and not crashing from the speed, that I barely noticed the second police car pull up alongside us.
I glanced over in time to see the officer in the driver’s seat reach for his sidearm. I sucked in a breath, ready to duck, but the man unholstered his weapon and held it out to Revik through the window, the handle pointed towards us.
I worried Revik had told him
to shoot himself, but...
...the gun simply left his fingers.
It clattered to the road, bouncing behind us.
“Watch the road!” Revik snapped, glaring at me. “I am doing this! You drive!”
I turned back to the windshield.
But his anger had allowed me to feel him again, at least in part.
The gun was as far as he would get with that human; the Rooks already had control over the cop’s mind. The knowing of that fact reflected a bitterness in Revik that surprised me.
...bastard’s doing it on purpose, forcing me to kill as many as he can...
When he looked at me next, anger still hardened his features.
Swallowing, I nodded, trying to let him see that I understood.
We approached Seattle.
I glimpsed a skyline to my left, then flashes of buildings through a maze of overpasses dripping with dark green plants.
I recognized landmarks from being here with Jon, but couldn’t read signs with how fast we were going. I’d stopped looking at the speedometer by then, anyway.
Revik was doing something in that other place, so I couldn’t ask for his help to use his grid thing. I felt a few people point and stare at us as we passed. I also saw other vehicles hitting their turn signals and pulling over, moving out of the way of the line of cop cars screaming behind us, clearing the freeway for the chase.
I felt it when the third cop car ceased to be a pull toy between Revik and whoever else.
I felt Revik lose that battle, too, and felt him let go just before the cop accelerated, coming up on us blaring light and sound from his overhead siren. I glanced over in time to see the dark-skinned cop smile at Revik, making an odd flowing up and down gesture with one hand that had the flavor of a taunt.
Whatever it was, it definitely didn’t look human.
Then, whatever held the cop’s body let go, leaving the cop sweaty-faced, determined, and completely focused on the two of us. From his eyes, he fully believed we’d killed his whole family with baseball bats then lit his house on fire.
Revik turned to me, his pale eyes hard.
“Stop the car,” he growled.
I thought I’d heard him wrong. “What?”
Behind him, I saw the Seattle cop raise a shotgun.
Before I could react, Revik grabbed the wheel, jerking it sideways to slam into the cruiser. The cop dropped the shotgun, and I heard his partner yelling excitedly.
“Revik, jesus! What are you—”
“Take that exit! Now, Allie!”
He pointed and I veered, braking to slide across lanes.
I saw the truck driver in the blue flannel shirt, who was still, amazingly, behind us, begin the turn to follow. I glimpsed faces as other, noninvolved drivers reacted, too, their eyes widening in fear as they tried to get out of my way, instead coming even more dangerously close to hitting us.
By some miracle, I slid behind the Washington cop car, in front of a different trucker who honked madly at us.
Then we were past, wincing from the scrape of metal as the GTX grazed his grill.
Revik leaned out the window, firing at the Seattle cop from behind.
He blew out a rear tire with the first shot, smashed the back window with his second. He chambered another round and aimed again, blocking my side view when he climbed up to sit on the passenger side window.
The Seattle cop cut across multiple lanes and again I felt the difference; it was no longer a human driving, but one of those things with lightning-fast reflexes and 360 degree vision. I was forced to brake, saw Revik clutch the window frame as he lost his balance. The Seattle cop swerved, just making it onto the exit off-ramp behind us.
A sign flashed by, too fast for me to read clearly.
I glimpsed white words spelling “Mercer Island.”
Revik slid back in through the window, landing on the seat. When I looked over, his shoulder was bleeding again, a dark, spreading stain under his shirt.
“You are trained in basic firearms use?” he said.
“Right,” I said, loud over the wind and engine. “Dad taught me to shoot cans. I'm practically special forces.”
“Good.” He propped the gun up on the seat between us. “Use it if they get too close.” He added, “Or if I don’t come back.”
“What? Revik, that's not funny, I—”
His body slumped against the seat.
I cursed, swerved into a guardrail, and the GTX threw up sparks as metal grated metal. I gripped Revik’s bare arm in my stubby nails, hard enough to bruise his skin. I shook him, then wondered if I should hit him, like he had me.
“Revik! You've got to be kidding me! REVIK!”
Something smashed into the back of the car.
I was merging into the main sprawl of traffic on the new highway and the truck driver with the blue flannel shirt was in the next lane over. Pulling up alongside the GTX, he aimed the pump-action shotgun out his window.
I hit the brakes like Revik had done, and another cop car hit us from behind. That same cop car forced me along until I accelerated, and then the guy was honking, waving at me to pull over.
A rush of panic made me wonder what would happen if I did.
Even as I thought it, the first Seattle cop drew up next to me on my other side.
...and for an instant, I see him. A metal thread cage ensnares his light, and behind his eyes breathe the orbs of the Rook controlling him. They shine coal red, and he makes his thumb and index finger into the shape of a gun, pointing it at me as his lips stretch in a corpse’s smile.
Bang, bang, little girl.
I snapped out, still miraculously gripping the steering wheel...and feel them in me. They drag at me and I shriek, as if the sound of my own voice might keep my light in my body.
But I can feel myself separating out, losing control of my limbs.
Lowering my head, I bite down on my fingers. My teeth clamp on skin and bone and my light rushes in like a rubber band snapping back.
Pain came with the light. But clarity, too.
I un-clamped my jaw from the red crescent on my knuckles. Blood dripped over the steering wheel once I’d extracted my teeth, but all I could feel was relief.
Just then, everything went dark.
We’d entered a tunnel. My foot mashed down harder on the accelerator.
Orange lights streaked by in irregular lines as cars cast shadows on tile walls. Surrender no longer felt like a good idea. The Seattle cop’s eyes flash red and I realize I am still inside the Barrier, just enough that they are all around me.
I slam my head against the driver’s side window, hard enough to crack it. My head leaves an impact mark surrounded by spider web lines. I am losing it. I feel sick, anemic...like my blood leaches out of me as they pull at me.
I keep my foot jammed on the accelerator as I lean over and snatch at Revik’s seat belt, miss, grab for it again, hooking it in my fingers.
A car slams the GTX from behind, and I lose the silver buckle, curse.
The third time, I dragged the nylon belt over his body and hooked it into the clasp at his side. His skin glistened with sweat, but he looks overly pale.
I hit him with my fist, hard in the side of the head, trying to wake him.
In doing so, I lost control of the car, slamming into the guardrail, leaving more paint and metal as sparks flew before I got the car off the rail again.
Sunlight washed into my eyes, slanting through the windshield as we flew out of the second tunnel. Before me stretched a long bridge with water on either side. The ramp aimed straight for the lake’s surface where the bridge floated on top of the water.
I glanced at Revik.
“Mortal peril,” I muttered. “...Mortal peril.”
I didn’t think. Even so, I saw every flash of metal and sunlight as I swung the wheel. Veering behind a green Jetta, I made a straight line for the right guardrail, beyond which lay nothing but sky and the waters of Lake Washington.
A thick,
protective rail stood between us and the water...
...but my mind seems to clasp it somehow, fold it, or maybe not my mind, but suddenly I can see through it...
...and we are through.
Exhilaration lifts me as the car soared.
Then gravity clutched the GTX at the top of the arc. Its nose tipped.
As water rushed to meet us, I could only hold onto the steering wheel, flashing to being on a runaway horse as a kid, where I’d clutched a mare’s black mane, screaming in fear and hysterical laughter. If a thought could have formed in my mind just then, it may have been about death...the transitoriness of all things.
Instead, there was a long, slow silence as the water rushed to meet.
The grill slammed into the surface of the lake with an enormous splash.
On the bridge, cars swerved, honking, slamming into one another.
An 18-wheeler’s brakes screeched as it followed the GTX’s trajectory towards the gap in the rail. A woman in a Toyota glimpsed round, rough-cut holes in the grill and front fender of that same truck as the metal trailer skidded past her view. It seemed about to follow the GTX over into the lake itself, when the driver swung the wheel, throwing the cab perpendicular as it slid towards the gap in the rail.
The truck’s trailer slammed metal, bending it outwards.
When it finally came to rest with a shudder, the cab faced north, like a dog peering over its shoulder.
In a daze, people exited their vehicles.
Several walked to the rail overlooking blue-gray water. The scream of sirens could be heard approaching from the other side of the tunnel; the dull thud of news and police helicopters grew audible overhead.
All of the onlookers simply stared down at the lake’s depths, at the rings of wavelets forming a perfect circle in the otherwise calm surface. They all looked at that same spot in the water in the center of those rings, searching for the thing they had witnessed smash through a two foot guardrail and fly out over an early morning sky.
But the GTX was nowhere to be seen.
~ END OF ALLIE’S WAR: EPISODE 1 ~
Allie's War, An Urban Fantasy: Episode 1 Page 12
