Halfway Heroes
Page 80
“Can’t breathe!” a voice said over the police car’s radio. Then a series of gagging, heaving sounds followed, making Lydia shudder with disgust. The officer stepped out of the car, turning to speak with the remaining police and FBI agents. Rogers was ordering a full retreat, but no one responded on the radio. Sylvia stood among the police, listening to the sounds of the carnage, her back to Lydia.
This is it, Lydia thought. She broke open the door on the passenger side, away from Sylvia and the police, and ran to the cliff’s edge. The sun’s first rays were just clearing the far eastern horizon. Jando and Aidan started to follow her, but stopped when she stayed at the cliff’s edge.
“What are you doing?” Aidan asked. Just below the short steep slope, Lydia saw a large semi-truck with a long cargo hold speeding in her direction. As it approached, she spied Finster in the front seat. Lydia skidded down the slope and crouched behind a small bush next to the road.
“Lydia!” Sylvia shouted. The other cops charged to the edge of the slope and stopped. Lydia leapt for the truck and latched on, escaping her pursuers.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t calculated the force of the truck’s speed. The wind whipped through her hair, blinding her. She held onto a vertical rear handle for dear life. Her body smacked around like a tetherball against the truck. Lydia tried several times to cling to the handle with both hands, but missed as the truck swerved. She held on with her right hand but felt her grip loosening. The handle was bending in her death grip. Her feet were scraping on the road.
Come on! When the truck was on a straight patch of road, she grabbed the handle with both hands. She breathed deeply, collecting her bearings. She looked up. The only way to the roof would be to punch some footholds in the rear door. Lydia decided to cut out the middle man and go straight through the cargo space.
Steadying herself on the little space she had on the bumper, she stretched for the cargo door’s latch. Her fingers brushed it, but it was too far away. So she kicked through the door. When there was a decent hole on the bottom, she tore the edges wider. Then she ducked through.
Lydia stopped. She was surrounded by canisters and disassembled pieces of metal. Canisters. The same kind used at the bank? She choked. SN91. The canisters were rattling as the truck veered from side to side. Maybe I should’ve taken my chances up top.
However, she had made her decision. She pressed forward, slipping around the secured canisters. She tensed, when she brushed a canister’s button panel. None of the gas released, but she was continuously wary of the possibility.
At the front wall, there was a little more room to move around. With her fists she shattered the wall. Wind rushed in, howling along with the police sirens closing in behind the truck. She broke the wall faster, tearing it apart. Then she stepped through, balancing on the truck’s connecting hitch to the cab.
The wind threatened to blow her over. She hung onto the broken wall with one hand, the jagged edges digging into her palm. Lydia had to be quick. She swung at the cab, denting its exterior. There were shouts inside. She struck it until a hole formed.
A pair of eyes peered through. They disappeared and were replaced by a pistol muzzle. Lydia ducked as the gun fired, bullets ricocheting through the cargo hold. “Are you crazy?” she yelled over the powerful gales ripping past her.
The gun left and someone pressed their mouth to the hole. Lydia leapt to the cab. Jamming her foot in the hole, she braced herself on the edges of hole in the truck behind her. Then she pulled her leg back and kicked. The hole in the cab opened, large enough for her to climb through. She kicked wildly, hitting someone inside. Muffled cries. Then more gunfire. Lydia climbed to the top of the cab, punching out handholds for herself.
She was none too soon. The truck careened off the road. The cab was tipping dangerously. She squeezed her eyes shut and held tight. When the truck righted itself, Lydia took a breath.
Smack! Lydia watched as a hand appeared on the edge of the cab’s roof, and then another. Heather’s head followed, and then her body. She hoisted herself onto the roof. Dirt from Lydia’s kick was smeared across her lips. She held on tightly. Then she opened her mouth, emitting her dark fumes at Lydia.
The wind carried away the majority of the toxic gas. Lydia jumped down past Heather, between the cab and the cargo hold, until the gas passed by. Hanging on to the cab’s roof by her fingers, she started to pull herself back up. Heather stomped on Lydia’s fingers.
“You are persistent,” Heather said, digging her heel into Lydia’s knuckles. “I’ll give you that.”
Lydia grabbed Heather’s leg, tripping her. She fell onto the roof of the cab, flat on her back. Lydia climbed back up. “And you’re a coldhearted murderer!” she shouted over the wind. She swung at Heather, who rolled away to the edge of the roof. Just in time she caught herself from falling off.
Several police cars pulled up and drove alongside the truck. One policeman in a passenger seat ordered Finster to pull over, but his voice was garbled in all the commotion. Finster slammed the truck broadside into his pursuers. An officer opened fire briefly, but quit after a couple of potshots at the truck’s wheels. Lydia assumed they realized what the truck’s contents were.
The police car next to the cab contained Jando, Aidan, and Sylvia. They were calling for Lydia to jump down. She could faintly hear Jando saying to Aidan, “Yeah, get going, Flyboy. Do your thing.” Pause. “I told you he wouldn’t, Sylvia. Look, tell her to jump into my arms. I’ll catch her.” Jando stuck his torso out the window, calling for Lydia.
Heather sidestepped another of Lydia’s punches. She countered with a backhand. Lydia blocked her arm and elbowed her ribs. Heather dropped to her feet and kicked Lydia’s knees.
Lydia stumbled back, nearly falling off the roof. As she steadied herself, Heather delivered another kick. This time Lydia fell from the truck and plummeted toward the speeding asphalt.