It didn’t take Officer Gibson long to see the ploy for what it was. He grabbed his police radio. “Job, get up here and get that other car before it gets good and gone. This one is mine,” Aaron said as he tapped the bumper of the slowing truck.
“He hit us!” Meredith yelled.
BT was thinking they’d be lucky if that was all he did. BT didn’t hesitate as he blew out the back window with rifle shots.
Officer Gibson swerved to the left as a bullet came dangerously close to his ear. “He shot at me!” he yelled to Wes as if that was beyond the realm of any conceivable possibility. “Wes?” Aaron looked over to Wes and saw a gaping wound in his chest pulsing blood. Wes looked over towards Aaron, the hiss of air as it escaped his punctured lung louder than the air that came in through the damaged windshield.
“I think I’m hit, Boss,” Wes said without any volume to the words.
Aaron was amazed Wes could even speak; his body was hissing like a blown out tire. “Wes, I know we went to the Academy together but I’ve never really liked you.” Wes looked more hurt from the words than the wound. His breath started to hitch as he struggled to get elusive air into his system. Blood and carbon monoxide were becoming his biggest enemies, but none of them could compete with Officer Gibson.
Aaron removed his pistol from his holster and drilled Wes straight through his outstretched hand and into his forehead. He was dead before what was left of his head collided with the passenger side window. “Now I’m going to have to clean that!” Aaron shouted as the gore from Wes’ head streaked down the window and the upholstery.
BT watched the entire exchange, hoping that the wounding of the cop’s partner would take him out of the game. When it didn’t he turned to Meredith, “You should probably speed up now.” “Make up your mind!” Meredith screamed, partly because of the voluminous amounts of air that were cascading in from the rear but mostly because she was scared shitless.
“Definitely faster,” BT said as he started to reload his magazine, fingers fumbling nervously with the shells. ‘If the cracker was crazy enough to shoot his own friend that doesn’t leave much room for doubt with what he’d do to us,’ BT thought.
Aaron stopped long enough to push Wes from the car.
“Jesus, Aaron. What the hell happened?” Job asked as he pulled his car next to the other cruiser.
“Did I tell you to stop?” Aaron screamed.
Job rolled up his window and floored it.
“Dude, I watched him shoot Wes,” Kyle said, looking nervously back as Aaron got back into his cruiser. “That man is crazy, we need to get out of here.” Job looked at his rear view mirror. Aaron was gaining rapidly even though Job himself was doing 95. “I think you’re right, he’s been acting crazier than an evangelist on acid.” Kyle stopped looking back to look over at Job. “What does that even mean?” “How the hell do I know? I was under pressure for an analogy and that was the best I co uld do. But think about it.” “Yeah, I guess that would be pretty bad.”
“He’s almost on us. No, don’t turn around, he might suspect something. Let’s just have some fun with these people, kill them and then we’ll maybe leave tonight. When he takes those pills he’ll be out for hours.” “Good plan, then hurry and catch them because I want to get away from him as soon as possible.” The cruiser easily climbed to 110 and Job had his foot only about three-quarters of the way down.
Tracy ripped onto the Route 3 off ramp, tires squealing like live pigs shoved through a deli counter slicer. All the occupants were thrown to the left, threatening to overturn the car with the inertia. Angel was damn near in Tracy ’s lap. Dizz, Sty and Ryan were pressed so tightly together they could exchange undergarments and nobody would be the wiser.
“Damn, lady!” Sty said as he tried to pry his mouth away from Dizz’ elbow. Ryan was closer to another man’s junk than he ever hoped to be for the rest of his life. He almost tore a muscle in a straining attempt to keep his hand off of Sty’s thigh. His face hung dangerously close to plopping straight down into Sty’s lap.
“Like what you see?” Sty said, smiling slyly as Tracy finally hit a straightaway and the g-forces of orbital release were removed.
“Kiss my ass, Sty,” Ryan said as he turned bright red.
“I think the left side of my head is flat,” Dizz said, referring to where he made contact with the window.
“Didn’t Mountain Man say we were supposed to stay on that other road?” Sty asked.
“I saw a chance for us to get away, it’s called improvisation and I learned it from my husband,” Tracy explained briefly, looking through her mirrors for any sign of pursuit.
When she turned forward, her heart lurched at the sight of the approaching truck until she realized it had to be Ron. She frantically waved him forward; she did not want him to stop as he barreled to intercept the cops. To his credit, he slowed slightly to look but immediately regained his forward momentum and hurtled on.
“Where are we going, Pretty Lady?” Angel asked.
“That’s a good question, sweetie,” Tracy answered. “I don’t know.” And she didn’t, should she follow Ron and see if she could help, or hide somewhere around here and wait for whoever remained alive to drive by. Or did she just keep driving and go back to Ron’s?
She knew she couldn’t go back into the fray with the kids. The whole reason BT had done what he had was so that she could get away with them. She damn well couldn’t go back to Ron's house without the rest of them. What would she say?
She pulled into an Arby’s parking lot. It had a ring of juniper trees that encircled the entire place. On ly the most prying diligent eyes would see the car. Then Mike’s paranoia crept in on her thoughts. ‘Yeah, but aren’t cops very prying and very diligent?’ “You suck sometimes, Mike,” she said out loud. Tracy parked the car behind the building and started to undo her seatbelt.
"Whoa lady, where you going?" Sty asked, grabbing her shoulder.
"Are they open?" Angel asked, looking up at the big Cowboy Hat sign. "I like curly fires."
"Fires?" Tracy questioned the girl.
"She means fries," Ryan explained.
"I don’t think they're open sweetie," Tracy told the little girl. "I'm going to the front of the store and see who passes by. You guys need to all stay in the car."
"Wait! Out here? By ourselves?" Dizz looked on the verge of a panic attack.
"Eyean, do they have Happy Meals here?" Angel asked her older brother.
"I don’t think so sis," he said and watched as her face sank in resignation, "But we can check." She immediately perked up.
"Absolutely not," Tracy said, "Nobody is leaving this car."
"You are," Sty pointed out.
"Except for me," she said, shooting him a withering glance.
"Pretty lady just told you!" Angel squealed with delight.
Sty sat back hard; teenage brooding came to the fore.
"Eh," Tracy said. "You've got nothing on my daughter," she finished mockingly. "I'll be right back. Dizz, you get in the driver's seat. If anything happens to me, you get out of here. Understand?"
"God help us all," Sty said sarcastically.
Dizz looked sick although he nodded once in acknowledgement. Tracy was out of the car and had taken a step away. "Dizz, I meant now."
He gave her thumbs up, swallowed back some gorge and got into the front seat. Angel immediately got serious. She sat up straight in her seat and allowed Ryan to buckle her in with absolutely no extra added squirming.
"Which way is reverse?" Dizz asked, looking at the shift box.
Tracy turned back around. "Get out," she told him. A look of relief flooded his face as he extracted himself from the seat that he was so reluctant to take. Tracy turned the car around and backed up into the parking spot.