by Jack Porter
I screamed past Rachel’s ridiculous pink car at full volume and didn’t even think of slowing down as I ploughed into her pursuers.
In the movies, bikers always seemed to manage to swerve, to go into a slide, or otherwise avoid the worst of the damage. I figure that was more about keeping the stuntmen alive than adhering to reality.
But these guys weren’t stuntmen. They were hitmen, trying to fire at Rachel’s pink car while keeping the bikes under control.
Full credit to them for even managing as well as they could, but it meant they had nothing left with which to deal with me.
I hit the first motorcyle head on with a crunching impact that turned his bike into spare parts and must have snapped most of his bones as he flew straight over the roof of my car.
Did I mention Big Bob’s car had a full set of bull bars? Painted black as night, and giving the front of the car an animalistic appeal that actually enhanced its brute looks?
Those bull bars did the job. My car barely shuddered as it took the full impact and carried on, collecting the second rider a heartbeat after the first, and crunching over that bike like a tank.
The third rider was lucky. Or perhaps just had a moment longer to react. He managed to turn his handlebars, and would have avoided me completely if I hadn’t seen him do it.
I tweaked my steering wheel almost the same time and clipped him hard enough that he went tumbling through the air as his bike smashed into the cars parked on the side of the road.
“Ha!” I yelled. I brought my gun back inside and threw it back on the seat, then jumped on the brakes with both feet while twitching the steering wheel in the other direction.
I came to a complete, tire-shredding stop within two seconds flat, and found myself facing back the way I had come.
Both SUVs were still on Rachel’s tail, and those two seconds had proved costly. They’d already passed me by and were getting further away with every passing second.
“Hold on, Rachel!” I yelled at the phone. “I’m coming!”
With that, I stamped on the gas once again, and felt the comfortable hand of acceleration push me back into the Mustang’s seat as I lurched into motion again.
Chapter 24
“Hurry!” Rachel said. “I don’t know how long I can keep going!”
That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “You will keep going as long as you have to!” I bellowed at the phone. Rachel’s pink car was hidden behind the two SUVs now. I couldn’t see her at all. But I knew she was there, and the two SUVs were still on her tail.
“They’re shooting again!” Rachel yelled, and I heard her calm demeanor all but swamped by her fear.
I cursed under my breath as the Mustang tore down the street, picking up pace with every second. Already, the cars ahead had stopped getting further away. It was as if the Mustang could bend space and time itself to draw the SUVs closer.
“Swerve!” I yelled. “Don’t give them a stationary target!”
I was still too far away to bring my own guns to bear, and in desperation, I shot Azrael a question. “Is there anything else you can do?” I demanded.
“There is nothing,” he said.
At the same time, the navigation system tried to give me directions again, and I shut the thing off. I didn’t need directions by then. I could see my targets clearly, just as I could see the traffic still in my way.
I found myself dodging around ordinary vehicles, cars and vans of people who had suddenly found themselves caught in the midst of insanity. It must have been like finding yourself on a Hollywood set, with no clue what was happening. Most of the drivers instinctively slowed down, with some pulling over.
But others, frustratingly, managed to get in my way.
I’d never really been an impatient driver before, but this was different. Rachel’s life was on the line. So I cursed and swore at the randoms, leaning on my horn and even nudging some of the vehicles away.
Despite her fear, despite this being a situation far outside of what must have been normal, Rachel managed to keep both of the SUVs behind her. Any time one or the other tried to pull up beside her ridiculous pink car, she would swerve to prevent it. By then, I was close enough to see that the back end of her car was riddled with bullets, and I could only hope she was somehow okay.
I was also close enough to use my weapons.
Once again, I went for one of the AK-47 lookalikes, leaning it out my window and firing left-handed.
“Player two has entered the game!” I shouted, but this was no time for jokes. It wasn’t easy trying to aim and control the car at the same time, but even so, it wasn’t long before the rear window of one of the SUVs shattered, sending sparkles of glass in every direction, and that SUV swerved wildly across the road.
“Got you, you son of a bitch!” I said, and barked a laugh. Unfortunately, it was premature. That SUV sideswiped a couple of parked cars in a way that I thought meant I’d hit something important. Like the driver, perhaps. But then it recovered, and someone inside returned fire my way.
As much of a beast as my Mustang was, it wasn’t bullet-proof. A line of holes opened up on the right side of my windshield, and I felt my anger rise up another notch. I fired at the car again even as I weaved and dodged, listening to the sounds of my wheels screech in protest as a stray bullet ricocheted off the bull bars in the front.
I could make out at least two people in the SUV, and was pretty sure I would have nailed them both if my rifle hadn’t chosen that moment to jam. With a curse, I brought it back in and fumbled about for one of the handguns instead.
Within just a couple of seconds, I’d emptied half the magazine, but didn’t know if it had done any good. The handgun lacked the firepower I needed, although it was easier to aim.
Another line of holes appeared on in my windshield, this time disturbingly close to my head, and I decided I’d had enough. I stomped on the gas even harder than before until I was up in the SUVs tailpipe.
I hit it with a lurch, shunting the SUV forward. Then I hit it again, to no benefit. Then I tried something a little different, twitching my steering wheel at the same time as I hit him the third time.
It worked. The slight change of angle was just what the doctor ordered. Instead of just shunting the SUV forward, I caught him on enough of an angle to turn him to the side. He careened into the back corner of a truck and bounced off in an uncontrolled spin. I had to wrench my wheel to avoid him, but then he was gone, a tumbling, twisted mess of metal and rubber, leaving parts of the car all over the road.
With a self-satisfied smile on my face, I said to Rachel via the phone, “Got the bastard!”
“Good,” came the reply, and I was about to say there was just one more to go when the worst happened.
I don’t know if I distracted her or if it was no more than bad luck. Perhaps a stray bullet caught one of its wheels, or maybe the driver of the last SUV had simply tried my own trick. They were close enough.
Either way, Rachel’s car turned away in the same way that that SUV I’d just totaled had done. She was luckier than the SUV driver in that she didn’t hit a truck.
But the result was still much the same.
She collided with the side of a van, and I heard a panicked sound that was partly a scream and partly a curse. Then the VW also went tumbling.
The remaining SUV overshot, and it was all I could do to stamp on my brakes. I twisted my steering wheel and came to rest with the Mustang between the wreck of Rachel’s car and the SUV that had pulled up just ahead.
I briefly debated stomping on the accelerator once more and doing my level best to crash into that SUV before they could move. Instead, I swore out loud once again and did the stupidest thing I could think of.
I grabbed my shotgun and leapt out of the car, reloading and charging headlong at the SUV, hoping against hope that whoever was in there didn’t have time to react.
Of course, they did. The driver’s side window, nearest to me, was already open. As I watched, the ba
rrel of an assault rifle appeared, and I knew I had only a few moments to react.
Still sprinting, I took aim with the shotgun and let rip just as the first hail of rounds left the rifle.
I fully expected to be cut down midstride, and was more than surprised when I wasn’t. Somehow, my efforts had been enough. My opponent had started to fire before he could aim, and my pump-action shotgun did the rest.
I fired again and again, peppering the driver’s door with shot, turning it from a smooth, shiny black finish to one pockmarked with holes. The driver himself fared no better, flinching as the first shot struck him, and getting three more straight to the face as I drew nearer.
His companion must have caught some of the blast, because I heard him cursing and grunting in pain as he fumbled at the door.
By then, I was standing right next to the open window. I aimed past the bloody mess of the driver and blew the second shooter’s head clean off his shoulders.
A quick check showed me that aside from these two, the SUV was empty. I would have liked to harvest a finger or two, but really, these weren’t official Syndicate contracts, so I guess they didn’t really count. Instead, I simply turned around and hurried back not to the wreckage of Rachel’s car, but a little further down where the other SUV lay.
I needn’t have bothered. Both men in the wreckage were dead. Broken, bloodied, with bones sticking out, it was a gruesome sight.
Out of no more than malice, I let rip with my shotgun a couple of times, just because I wanted to. Then I spat at them, and finally turned to go see what had become of my favorite goth girl in the world.
Chapter 24
Given what I’d just seen in the ruined SUV, I was expecting the worst. Dreading it, in fact. The SUV crash had turned the two men within it into mincemeat. Sure, Rachel’s VW hadn’t hit with quite as much force, hadn’t crumpled quite as much, but really, what were the odds that she would come out of it any better than they had?
Yet, as I approached the upside-down wreck of the pink car, I started to smile. There was glass and debris strewn all over the road, and traffic had slowed to a crawl as drivers tried to see what was happening. There was a small fire turning oil into greasy flames at the back end of the car, but what made me smile was the sound of Rachel cursing from within.
She was alive!
With renewed enthusiasm, I approached the driver’s side and bent low so I could see.
Rachel stopped cursing and looked up at me. Somehow, she still wore her glasses. There was blood on her nose at her nostrils, and over part of her face where she’d tried to wipe it away. She was hanging upside down, still caught in the seatbelt.
She was also surrounded by deployed airbags.
Perhaps that was what had led to her nosebleed. Either way, I was more than thankful for their presence.
At the sight of me, Rachel relaxed. “I take we made it, then?” she asked.
“Looks like it,” I said.
“Good. Although I have to admit, I’m a bit pissed at what they did to my car.” Then she changed the topic. “So, are you going to help me out of this mess, or what?”
I helped her out. It took quite a bit of strength to get the door open, but after that, it was easy. Rachel looked a little disheveled, but there were no bullet holes, no nasty cuts anywhere I could see. Perhaps she would have a bruise or two, courtesy of the crash, but that she was able to walk away at all was amazing. She even had the foresight to take her large, bulky handbag with her.
My calm goth girl even acted like she would shake it all off, to head to my car as if everything was perfectly fine. But she managed just a single step before she paused.
Reconsidered.
Turned toward me, looking paler than usual, her eyes faintly haunted as she bit her lower lip in contemplation.
Then her façade crumbled and tears appeared at her eyes. She reached for me, and I enveloped her in a hug, and we stood there for long moments while she recovered herself.
I was very conscious that we were far from alone. A few of the passersby had pulled over to help, and the first of them, a young man with a dog in the back of his car, was already approaching.
I didn’t think he was one of the hitmen sent after Rachel, but I wasn’t exactly comfortable out in the open.
“Are you okay?” the man said, and I just nodded. He seemed to not be aware I was still holding a shotgun, or that the mess was anything more than a normal accident.
“Major crash, man. Has anyone called the cops? Or an ambulance?”
I shook my head and watched the man reach for his phone.
“Time to go,” I said to Rachel.
Rachel sniffed once, then stepped apart, but didn’t break away completely. “I remember when we first met,” she said randomly. “I was taller than you.” She managed a grin. “So much has changed in such a short time.”
“Yeah,” I said, agreeing. And not all for the better, I knew. My choices had led directly to putting Rachel and Sandy in danger. It wasn’t exactly a fun thought at all, and I couldn’t help but wonder what I could have done differently.
It was my quest for status that had led to this point. Sure, the girls would benefit in the long run as well, but did I have the right to expose them to all this?
It was no more than a thought, yet Azrael responded anyway. “It was their choice to stick with you,” the demon said. “And anyway, you aren’t responsible for this threat.”
“No,” I murmured. “That would be Dario Fucking Gambetti.”
As I said the name, my rage returned, forming itself into a cold knot of hatred in the pit of my stomach.
Dario Fucking Gambetti had tried to murder me and my girls.
And I wasn’t going to take that lying down.
Chapter 25
As soon as I got Rachel to the Mustang and climbed in behind the driver’s seat, I gave Sandy a call to make sure she was okay. But it appeared that Rachel had drawn all the immediate attention. Piper had found Sandy safe and sound, with no evidence of any hitmen nearby, and acted as an escort all the way to Megadeath’s lair. They were there, waiting for us to arrive.
After assuring them that Rachel and I were both fine, I ignored the small but growing number of onlookers who had stopped to help, started my Mustang, and eased her back into the traffic, doing my best to ignore the bullet holes in the windshield.
I scanned the roads in every direction, keeping an eye out for additional attackers. But there were none to be seen, and Rachel and I made it back to Megadeath’s place without further incident.
Piper had parked her bright red Kawasaki outside the front door, and Sandy was leaning against it with Piper standing next to her. Piper had her arm around Sandy’s shoulders, and Sandy looked white and shaken.
I was out of the Mustang almost before putting it in park, and hurried toward them.
“Are you okay?” I blurted. “Are you hurt?”
Sandy looked at me with a hint of relief. She shook her head but didn’t seem able to turn her thoughts into words.
Piper answered for her. “She’s fine. Just a bit scared is all.”
As I stood there watching, Rachel walked right past me and reached for Sandy to engulf her in an embrace.
“She’s not fine,” Rachel said, gently contradicting Piper. “She’s been through a lot recently. And perhaps for you, it’s an everyday occurrence, but for us? Learning that someone wants to kill you isn’t exactly a pleasant experience.”
Rachel’s instincts were exactly right, and in her embrace, Sandy looked like she was relaxing a bit. She wrapped her arms around Rachel and held her tightly. I belatedly stepped in to wrap my arms around both women.
At the same time, I made a quiet promise to myself to throw a few points toward interpersonal intuition when I had the chance. My instincts around such things weren’t great, and judging by the way my life was heading, those would need to improve.
Piper had moved her arm from around Sandy but still stood close. I looked over Sa
ndy’s head. “Thank you, Piper,” I said.
“Yes, thank you,” Rachel said, her arms still wrapped around Sandy.
Piper nodded.
And just like that, we accepted that Piper was a part of us. She’d stepped up when needed, seemingly without thinking about it. Nothing felt awkward even though we’d all just met. Although, maybe Azrael had something to do with that. After all, he’d awakened a succubus within each of them. In that way, the girls were all connected to me and to Azrael.
After another moment or two, Sandy took a deep breath and lifted her head to look at me. Her face was less sickly pale and more like her usual fair skin tone.
I smiled. “I’m glad you’re okay,” I said. “Feeling better?”
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek. “Yes. At least, I will.”
Both Rachel and I took it as a signal and gave her some room.
“Sorry,” Sandy said, glancing at Piper. The blonde offered a lopsided grin and tried to dab at her makeup. “It’s just… I wanted to go back to my apartment. You know, just to pick up some things. Clothes. Shoes. Some of my jewelry. But I get why I can’t.”
I felt that was a bit of a misdirection on Sandy’s part, but she must have been ready to talk about something else.
She took another deep breath, settling herself. “So, maybe we should go in and see what that Megadeath asshole left behind.”
Chapter 26
I tried the door, but to nobody’s surprise, it was locked. At first, I couldn’t even figure out how the lock worked. There was no combination, no keyhole, nothing. Just a small rectangular pad under a plastic covering on the door frame.
I looked at Piper. “You wouldn’t know how to get in, would you?” I asked. I figured that my usual technique of wandering around until I found an open window wouldn’t work here.
“Ha!” the assassin replied. “I could get in, but there wouldn’t be much left of the door once I did. I figure we might like to keep this one more intact.” She tilted her head to one side. “Or are you asking how the lock works? That’s a thumbprint scanner. So, unless you happen to have access to Megadeath’s thumb, we might have to find another way.”