by T Gephart
“You shoot, I’ll drive.” I climbed into the driver’s side of my Camaro, my forty-five kept at an easy reach on the center consol. If it came to the crunch, I’d have to bring some of my own noise.
“Buckle in. I don’t want you messing up my windshield if I need to stop suddenly.” I fastened my own seat belt as she was locked in, my hand hitting the ignition a second later.
The V8 roared in the dark—my headlights and interior staying off until we put some distance between us—as the garage door slowly rose behind us. The fucker was taking too long, my foot slamming on the accelerator the second I thought we could clear it.
“Fuck.” My jaw locked as the top of the door scraped against the roof of the car, my judgment off by a quarter inch as I reversed out.
Not that screwing up the paint job on my ride was an issue considering as soon as rubber had breached the back alley, a bullet hit my rear side window, blowing a hole into it. The bastard went right through the other side, shattering the glass as we fishtailed in the narrow space.
It was too fucking close and we needed to get gone.
“Give me some cover, Sofia.” I gritted my teeth, throwing it into gear as my boot punched the gas, needing to get out of this alley in a fucking hurry. “I don’t care if it’s a squirrel, if it moves, fucking shoot it.”
She nodded, her body twisting in the seat as much as the nylon strip across her chest would let her. Her nine fired a couple of rounds out of the holes we’d been provided, my back windows history as all glass left in the door frames shook loose with the vibrations as we moved.
“Left side,” she hollered, squeezing the trigger as bullets from our friends ate into my back left panel.
“Motherfucker.” I wrenched the wheel to the right narrowly missing traffic, the ass of my car needing a second before it got on the same page as we slid sideways onto the main road.
And either the trigger-happy asshole was mobile or he had a friend. The minute we passed a streetlight I was able to identify an Audi A8 was on our tail redlining as we both left rubber on asphalt.
“Get them off my ass.” I punched it, weaving in and out of lanes as I avoided collecting a car or two as a hood ornament. My feet worked overtime, alternating between gas and the brakes as I took another hard right hoping to get us some clear road in front of us.
“I’m trying.” Sofia struggled to get the angle for a decent shot. Unless she could dislocate a shoulder and still maintain enough muscle control to pull the trigger, she wasn’t going to be much help.
“This is fucking bullshit.” The A8 did its best to shadow me despite me using every single one of those ponies underneath my hood.
There was only one vehicle between us, a silver Yukon that I’d cut off when I pulled out in front of it. It wasn’t ideal, but the truck gave us a tiny buffer, the GMC’s ass giving me some cover.
My buffer didn’t last long, with the Yukon wising up and swerving into the next lane, which unfortunately meant it caught a stray bullet—either Sofia’s or the cocksucker’s—the driver locking up its brakes and skidding out of control.
Two ton of metal torqued onto its side, sparks flying as the screeching metal cab made contact with the road. Not what I’d planned but one hell of an improvise as the Yukon slid across two lanes of traffic until it hit a guardrail.
“Oh my god!” Sofia screamed, the crash happening so fast. “Are they okay? Did I just kill someone?”
“Get your shit together; they are not your problem right now,” I shouted back, my eyes glued to the road as I overtook a couple of cars. Lucky for them the little incident with the truck had momentarily induced a cease-fire. The Audi driver probably using all their effort to stay upright while playing dodge ball with the GMC.
“We’ve got company.” Sofia pointed to a blur of flashing lights in the rearview, the sirens getting louder.
“Awesome, because I needed more of a challenge tonight.” I slammed on the brakes and skidded around a bend, smoke rising from the tires as they gripped hard.
No doubt the cops were already calling it in which meant that in a few minutes we were going to be biting off a little more than we could chew.
“We need to get off the road, CPD will call in a helo.” She swallowed, her eyes scanning the night sky before she continued. “They aren’t going to risk a high-speed pursuit without eyes in the sky.”
It was too public; the amount of attention we were drawing was waaaaaay more than I would have liked, which should have been fucking zero. Not that there was any point bitching about it now, we needed to get invisible in a hurry. And not only get away from the fuckers tailing us, but also from the CPD who would only be all too happy to throw us into lock-up. Either scenario would put us in a box about six-feet under, so my vote—and the only one that counted—was that we didn’t die today.
“I’m going to get us off at the next exit.” My eyes flicked between my windshield and my rearview. “The minute we leave the off ramp, I’m going put us in a spin and you’re gonna have one chance to do some damage.”
“You’re going to do what?” She pitched forward, her eyelids peeling back to maximum like I’d told her we were going to stop in the middle of the road so I could take a piss.
“Don’t fucking think!” I yelled, not having the time or the fucking inclination to explain the plan. “The minute I spin, you double-palm your fucking gun and empty as much of your fucking clip as you can into that Audi, we clear?”
“We’re going to die.” Her head shook, not convincing me she was capable of doing what I was asking her to do. “You’re going to kill us.” Thankfully sidelining her outrage and pulling out a spare clip to reload.
Great, because we had time for a fucking pep talk. There weren’t a lot of other options—in fact there were none—so she needed to get on my level in the next few seconds or shit was going to go bad.
“We are not going to fucking die. Just do as I say.” The off-ramp coming into view as my boot stayed nailed to the floor.
“Get ready. Lower your window.” The engine roared as we split from the interstate, the tires sticking to the road like fucking champs. The road stretched out in front of us, virtually no cars ahead.
Just needed a little more.
C’mon baby, just give me a little more.
“Now.” I twisted the wheel left and then cut back to the right into a full lock as I yanked up the emergency brake. The car screeched in protest as its backend whipped us around, causing us to slide sideways in front of the A8.
View of the Audi cut through the smoke of burnt rubber, Sofia squeezing a few rounds of her nine into the windshield while I kept the steering locked.
What was less than a few seconds felt like an eternity. The bullets sprayed through the front of the A8, glass not so much shattering as exploding into the car.
It truly was a thing of beauty, the timing fucking perfect and Sofia had been amazing. Better than I expected. But our joy ride was far from over. My hands and feet worked in unison simultaneously throwing down the brake, stomping on the gas, the car getting to full power as I cut the wheel back to the left. The backend fishtailed, almost hitting the guardrail; the entire four lanes needed for the Camaro to right itself. The second we were facing the right direction, my boot dropped onto the gas and we were out of there. See ya later.
“They aren’t following.” Sofia nodded, the slight shake of her right hand hinting she wasn’t altogether tight.
“We’re not in the clear yet.” My foot stayed planted as we moved further down the road;, the Audi stalled out in the middle of the road behind us.
Chicago’s finest were also still in the picture. Lights and sirens neon-signing that we had a minute or two before we were going to be spending the night with fancy new jewelry in the city-run Ramada.
We needed to ghost ASAP, and unfortunately dump the car. Man, that was going to piss me the hell off.
“Fuck.” I punched the dash, taking a hard right and then a quick left. No real
way out of it presenting itself as we continued down the road I’d put us on, the fucking thing narrow with only one lane going each way.
The cops were going to be coming around the corner soon, and it was going to take a little more than a few turns to shake them.
My eyes locked on the road up ahead, a deserted gas station that had been boarded up coming up fast on our left. It was a gamble, but one I was going to take. They currently didn’t have line-of-sight, and as soon as that changed we could kiss our chances goodbye.
I downshifted, trying to slow the car down without locking up the brakes as I crossed the centerline and drove on the opposite side of the road. Lucky for everyone involved there was no oncoming traffic.
It was needle threading time, jerking the wheel to the left as I spun into the narrow driveway of the deserted gas station. The pumps passed in a blur as we continued to the back, the overgrown brush doing a number on my paint job as leaves and twigs fell into the backseat.
“Stay down but keep your gun ready.” I pulled behind a mound of old tires and cut the ignition, the engine silent as we sat in the dark.
“They didn’t see us,” Sofia whispered in the dark, the affirmation more for her own benefit I’m sure. “They didn’t turn.”
No lights or sirens.
But it was too soon to tell.
Not to mention we still had no idea what had happened to the Audi. One thing was for certain; the night was far from over.
“We’re not going to wait to find out. Let’s go.”
It had to be a dream.
The unidentified shooter, the car chase, trying to outrun the police—it couldn’t be real.
It was a nightmare—a horrible nightmare—and I just needed to wake up. I tried to will myself back to consciousness, but the heaviness remained. My throat constricted as scattered thoughts flooded my mind.
It wasn’t a dream.
It was my life.
“Get it together, Sofia,” he hissed in the dark, slowly removing the bags from the trunk of the car while I stood silently beside him. “You did good; don’t fall apart now.”
“I wasn’t. I’m not.” I quickly blinked away the tears starting to pool at the corners of my eyes. “I’m fine.” My hands moved quickly to the last remaining duffle and pulled it out. “I’m fine.”
“Right.” The laughter bubbled up his throat, taunting me. “Just fine. Come on, let’s move.”
He was completely devoid of emotion. The coolness in his voice reflected in his steady hand as he strapped a bag on either arm and checked his gun. He didn’t bother holstering it, his hand doing a quick slide over its body, almost as if to offer it a caress. It would have been easy to have missed it, the subtly of his hand. Its kindness against the steel almost a contradiction to everything else.
The hue of the streetlight spilled its dirty yellow wash just far enough so it wasn’t completely black as the smell of gasoline and old rubber invaded my nose. I had no idea where we’d go from here, but I knew that the longer we stayed, the greater chance we’d be found.
“Where are we going?” I tried to push down my panic and get my head back in the game. Like it or not, we were a team and he’d gotten us this far, so I had to trust him. “Do you have a plan?”
He didn’t answer, his eyes throwing me the seriously? his mouth didn’t need to say.
Instead he pointed to the chain-link fence at our back, a dark empty back lot beyond its metal wall. “That way.” The two words served as the only indication as to where we were going from here.
I assumed we would climb, heft our bodies up and over the fence and hope to keep the noise minimal. The CPD would surely be doubling back soon, realizing by now we’d shaken them. There wouldn’t be that much ground to cover, especially if there was a helo in the air.
“What are you doing?” He grabbed my arm as I repositioned my duffle on my shoulder, my fingers grasping one of the links as I lifted my foot.
“You said that way,” I whispered. “Assuming you weren’t going to answer any more of my questions, I figured we’d leave.” And I was too exhausted to further decipher what he was thinking.
“And you were going to climb over?” His lips twitched at the edges, ridiculously finding something in the situation amusing.
“Well, unless you have a magical teleporter in your bag, the only way to go that way is over this fence.”
“I don’t go over. I go through.” He moved to the edge of the fence, pulling out a pair of six-inch side cutters from his bag. “Climbing is too risky, means your hands are occupied and you can’t hold your gun.” His hand moved methodically snipping through the metal like butter. “Also means your back is either in the direction of where you’re going or coming from. Opens you right up for attack.” He stopped when he got to the link a couple inches above his head. “Now you can go.”
With a steady hand he tore back the fence from the spikey edges the cuts had made, the sheet of curved metal pulling apart like a curtain. His face stayed stoic, watching me as I passed through the gap, not even a hint of the effort I knew he was exerting showing on his body.
I on the other hand, wasn’t as cool or collected, my breathing heavy as I replayed the car chase in my head. Seconds. That’s what had separated this outcome from something entirely different.
As soon as I was through, he followed close behind. His heavy boots leaving footprints underneath the thick grass. Unfortunately we would be leaving a trail, a roadmap for anyone to find us.
“Follow me and stay alert.” His feet stepped forward not bothering to check whether I did actually follow.
Instinctively, we both knew whatever happened in the next few days, I undoubtedly would be by his side. Not because it’s what I wanted, but because I had no other choice. Pride was a luxury I couldn’t afford. That’s probably why he kept moving forward, the unspoken words enough.
He didn’t talk any more—which at least spared me his indifference—his large muscular frame moving silently through the darkness. Not an inkling of fear cracked through his rock solid façade with his eyes covering as much land as his feet as we continued to where the vacant lot met the street.
I stayed close behind, the hair on the back of my neck standing straight up as a single parked blue Nissan Altima came into view. It felt ominous, the dead-end street virtually empty except for the sedan.
Michael stopped midstride, his arm reaching back signaling me to halt. Not that it was necessary, my feet stilled immediately not knowing if there was anyone in the car.
“Stay here,” he whistled through his clenched teeth.
“No. It could be an ambush.” My healthy paranoia reared its ugly head as I grabbed his arm. Touching him had been more to get his attention without raising my voice because let’s face it, he had at least a hundred pounds on me. Holding him back wasn’t going to be an option. “If we do this, we do it together. I can be your back-up, I’m not some bimbo who doesn’t know what they’re doing.”
There were a lot of things I never thought I would do. Leaving the scene of a crime would be one—but I’d already done that tonight—while playing partner to a criminal was a close second. Still, I wasn’t going to sit and debate my fall from grace when we had no idea what threat lay inside that car.
“Fine, but we do it my way.” He huffed out a breath knowing we were running out of time. “Stay low and come up the back. I’ll take the driver’s side, you take the other.”
“Okay.” My vision focused beyond him looking toward the parked car.
“Sofia.” He snapped his fingers, calling my attention back to him. “If you fuck this up, I’ll shoot you myself. I will not die for you, we clear?”
“Yes.” The word barely audible as his words chilled me to my core. I doubted there was anyone who would die for me. Maybe my mother before she became an alcoholic with a prescription dependency, but certainly no one now. But I wasn’t a liability either and I wanted the opportunity to prove that too. “I won’t fuck up.”
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br /> With a jerk of his chin he signaled our go, our weapons close to our bodies as we closed in, the Altima only a few feet away.
A dog barked in the distance as we quickly closed in, my eyes surveying the area surrounding the car as my feet carried me to it.
My heart thumped in my chest as we split off in different directions, rounding the car with our weapons drawn on either side. My eyes flicked to Michael as we flanked the Altima, my finger resting on the slide ready to move to trigger if needed as I moved to the door.
Nothing.
The interior was dark, the space empty.
A breath I’d been holding slowly pushed past my lips, my finger relaxing a little as I leaned closer to the car. Always make sure, I wasn’t sure if it was the voice of my father or my training from the Police force that rattled around in my head.
“A little too convenient.” Michael dipped his chin to the back windows. He probably had the same thoughts, his left hand dropping to the door handle and giving it a gentle pull.
Locked.
His hand disappeared to his pocket and I was torn between wanting to know what he was up to and keeping my eyes on the car. Asking was out of the question, sure I would get the none-of-your-business he was so fond of.
Whatever he was doing required the use of his gun-hand, his arm dropping from sight for a few seconds before the locks popped open.
“It needs to be searched.” The roof-mounted light flooded the interior as he pulled open the door.
While I took care of the back, Michael did a sweep of the front, hitting the trunk release and stepping out of the car.
Once he’d been satisfied the sedan was clean, he tossed the duffels into the back before returning to the driver’s side. “Throw your things into the trunk, we’re taking the car.”
