CHAPTER 15
864 Words
CHAPTER 15
The Honda lurched forward, squealing ahead of Gino.
“He had a gun.” Kennedy was breathing hard, her brain branded with the image of the firearm swinging low in Gino’s hand.
“Take a deep breath and calm down,” Carl told her. How could he talk about calm at a time like this?
“But he had a gun.”
Carl swerved around a corner. “So let’s be thankful we’re both alive and focus on staying that way.”
He yanked the steering wheel the other way, and Kennedy was thrown against her door. The wipers still smeared across the windshield.
“Sorry about that,” Carl muttered.
“Do you know where this road leads?” Kennedy held onto the bottom of her seat.
Carl glanced in the rearview mirror. “Looks like we’re gonna learn.”
He turned down the next side street and clunked over three speed bumps. The sound of the car’s bottom scraping against the pavement zinged pain through Kennedy’s ears all the way to the roots of her teeth. It was probably a ridiculous gesture, but she pushed down the lock on her door.
“Good idea.” Carl did the same.
“Do you know how to get out of this neighborhood?” Kennedy asked after he turned down yet another road and sped past a school.
“If I had to guess, I’d say it’s this way.”
She wasn’t reassured. “He’s still following us,” Kennedy announced, stealing a peak in the mirror.
“Yup.” Carl sounded tense but not necessarily afraid. Since he was a pastor, did that mean he was more prepared to die than the average churchgoer?
They sped through a stop sign, and Kennedy clenched her jaw. She couldn’t relax it even when she tried.
Carl looked both ways before swinging out of the subdivision onto the main road. “You should see if you can get a license plate number.”
Kennedy turned around, expecting to be shot in the face the moment she faced Gino’s car. The Honda whizzed past the streetlights so fast that they had almost a strobe effect. She could only see one or two characters at a time but figured she could rattle them off if she had to.
“Do you have your cellphone?” she asked.
“It’s in my pants.” Carl adjusted his weight to one hip. This was no time to be prudish. She reached into his back pocket and pulled out his little black flip-phone. Her fingers only shook a little as she dialed. Everything would be fine. She’d call the police. They’d send the squad cars to save them in a minute. Two at most.
“It’s going through.” She held her breath and waited for the operator’s voice.
“We’re sorry. All lines are busy at this time. Please hold.”
It had to be some kind of joke. This wasn’t customer service for some mail-order clothes catalog or online bookstore. This was serious. Life or death. And she was on hold?
“They’re busy.” She could hardly believe the words herself.
Carl nodded. “Must be this wind. The power’s out in Medford. Our house was hit for a little bit earlier. Whole neighborhood went dark for half an hour or more.”
“So people are calling 911? In the middle of the night?”
Carl was winding down one street after another, and Gino was working hard to pull up in the lane next to them.
She glanced out her window. “He’s getting closer.” She could see the black car in the other lane. There was no way Carl’s little Honda could outrun him.
“Don’t worry about Gino.” Carl kept his eyes on the road.
“But he’s got a gun,” Kennedy reminded him. She had no idea how long Carl’s old car could keep up this kind of pace and hoped the engine wouldn’t give out. Were cars like horses? Could you work one until it fell over dead?
“I know.” Carl’s voice was calm and steady. “But he’s got to focus on his driving. It’s not like in the movies. You can’t drive and shoot at the same time.”
Kennedy hoped he was right. What would a full-time pastor know about those kinds of things, anyway? She glanced out the window right as they sped under a street lamp. The driver was scowling behind the wheel, quickly gaining on them and about to pass on the right.
“That’s not Gino.” Confusion slowed her mind. Her body tingled with an electric fear. “It’s someone else.”
The back window rolled down.
“He’s in the backseat,” she squealed.
“Duck!”
Kennedy could hardly hear Carl’s shout over the sound of her own scream. Glass shattered on top of her as the window exploded. Shards rained down in her hair, in her eyebrows.
Kennedy screamed again as a second shot rang out.
“I’m gonna get us on Main Street. The police station’s that way.”
“Oh my God, oh my God.” For the first time, she realized that phrase wasn’t only using the Lord’s name in vain. It could also be a prayer.
“Tight curve,” Carl warned. He leaned into the steering wheel with his whole body, and Kennedy cried out in pain as her arm bashed against the door.
“Hallelujah!” Carl exclaimed. “We lost them!”
Kennedy glanced in the passenger mirror. The black car had missed the turn, but she only felt a slight breeze of relief because her arm was firing pain all the way down to the bone.
“You all right?” Carl asked.
Something was sticky. Something was ...
“I’m bleeding.” She held up her fingers as disbelief swirled around in her gut. “I’m bleeding.” She hadn’t realized how terrified she was until she heard the tremor in her voice.
“From the glass?” Carl asked. His words were coated in hope that only thinly veiled his own fear.
“I’m bleeding.” Her breaths became shallow. She reached up and turned on the overhead light. “I think I’ve been shot.”
- Writer
