by Hoaks, C. A.
The officer’s trunk was a study in organization. It included two plastic totes with file folders for forms and papers, a tool box, several items to use for road side assistance in a canvas bag. In addition to the two spike strips and a large plastic gun case.
Steve leaned over and flipped the clasps and grinned. Inside was nestled a scoped rifle and several boxes of ammunition for the rifle. He left the rifle and other supplies for the time being and pulled both spike strips from the trunk. Tucking the tire iron in his waistband, he tossed several items from the trunk into the canvas bag and picked up both spike strips and headed up the hill where Della and Zack were finishing moving cars as he had directed.
Two vehicles were pulled to the center of the road with their front bumpers meeting in the middle of the road. Zack grabbed one of the spike strips from Steve then lumbered after him as he made his way around the blockade.
As Steve lurched past Della, he called out. “Head down the hill and open some of the car doors. Make sure it’s safe first. If no one’s inside, then toss the contents around. Make a big show. We want the guys in the truck as distracted as possible so they don’t see the spike strips.”
Della took off toward the cluster of vehicles after checking on Sandy.
Steve rolled the first spike strip across the road and could clearly see the zigzag pattern of spikes. He motioned for Zack to roll out the second strip. He looked across the road and realized the truck driver would have to be blind or extremely distracted to not notice the dark strip of spikes lying across the asphalt.
“Will they see the strips?” Zack asked.
“That’s the reason for tossing things around.” Steve answered. He pointed at one of the vehicles and continued. “There’s a propane tank in that blue pickup. Get it would you? I’ve got bungees from the unit. We’re anchoring it between the bumpers and if they hit the strip full speed, there’s a good chance they’ll slam into the cars and hopefully the tank will go boom.” Steve grinned.
Zack brought back the tank and helped mount it between the two vehicles. When they were done, they got back in the truck and headed down the hill.
They studied Della’s handiwork. They saw what looked like a woman standing at an open car door. As they got closer, Zack’s eyes got big and Steve snorted.
“I’ll be damned.” Steve snorted.
A life-sized plastic doll had been taped to a car door with duct tape. The plastic arm extended up as if waving. Della had pulled a glittering sequined shirt over the doll’s upper body and now the dime-sized sequins on the shirt sparkled in the sun and light breeze.
“Now that’s something you don’t see every day,” Zack noted.
He slowed the truck and Della climbed in next to Sandy. She glanced over her shoulder and commented. “I’ll never stop being amazed at the stupidity of people. What kind of person takes a blow up sex doll with them when they’re running for their lives?”
Steve smirked. “It works for us.”
Della leaned over Sandy to check on her. She was slumped against the window and dozing.
“She shouldn’t be sleeping.” Della commented as she attempted to rouse Sandy. Della dampened a rag and wiped at Sandy’s face.
Zack stopped the truck at the side of police car and Steve stepped out to retrieve the rifle and filled the canvas bag with additional salvageable goods from the trunk. When he was back in the truck, he pointed to a side road at the base of the hill.
Zack drove down the hill and made the turn. When he had gotten far enough from the intersection to be hidden from the highway by a stand of trees, Steve told him to stop, again.
“Stay here and keep an eye out. If you hear that truck make it around the road block or you see anyone else besides me heading through those trees, take off and don’t come back.”
He scratched around and retrieved a plastic bag from the floor then dropped two bottles of water and a couple energy bars inside. He picked up the plastic gun case and opened the door.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m making sure these assholes don’t go after anyone else.”
Steve grabbed the strap of the rifle and slid from the passenger seat of the pickup. He pulled the rifle strap over his shoulder. “Don’t stick around if you see anyone else besides me heading this way.”
Zack nodded. “Got it, man.”
Della reached out. “You should let me go with you.”
“No.” Steve stepped away. “I have to do this. You have to take care of the kids.”
Steve looked back without smiling. Attempting a terminator impersonation, he answered. “I’ll be back.”
Della forced a smile while Zack shook his head and laughed.
“That was really bad, man,” Zack commented.
Steve gave them a careless wave then turned and walked toward the wooded grove overlooking the trap. He maneuvered carefully through the brush and briars until he found a spot he had noted earlier. It was a gentle rise crested with a cluster of boulders. He laid the rifle on the biggest rock and eased onto a smaller rock behind it. He dropped the plastic bag next to his leg. He opened a bottle of water and drank most of the bottle.
He was tired. The stump of his right leg hurt like hell. He wanted to pull the thermoplastic cup and silicone sleeve from the tender flesh, but he didn’t dare. If his little trap failed to stop the men chasing them, he had to be able to move quickly.
The sound of an engine in the distance interrupted his silent musing. Steve rose and looked toward the hill in the distance. The big truck with the roll bar and lights crested the hill.
The vehicle had been jacked up to allow room for the massive oversized wheels with thick tread, mud tires. The engine screamed as the truck vaulted over a distant hill with the tires leaving the road for a heartbeat.
Steve raised the scoped rifle to his eye and watched as the vehicle landed hard and the sound of its approach grew louder. He waited for the truck to climb the last hill before the trap. The truck raced to the top, caught air then landed with a bone-jarring thud, the engine screaming in protest. The driver struggled to control the vehicle but didn’t let up on the gas.
Steve aimed at the driver then moved the barrel to lead his target. He took a breath then let the air out and squeezed the trigger. The explosion of the shot was all but obliterated by the roar of the truck engine when the driver slumped forward.
Steve watched through the scope as the passenger jumped into action reaching the stirring wheel struggling to get control of the truck. The front tires hit the spike strips. Tires exploded. The vehicle swerved to the left and the tires lost any semblance of traction.
The truck tipped and began to roll. The two men in the bed clinging to the massive roll bar sailed over the side of the truck then disappeared under the crush of metal as the massive machine made the first rotation.
The second rotation took the truck into the two cars with the propane tank. The resulting explosion was deafening. A billowing mushroom of flames rose up from the twisted metal. One by one the gas tanks of each vehicle succumbed to the heat and exploded. Within seconds, the entire trio of vehicles burst into flames. Debris fell from the sky all around the crash site.
Steve pushed himself onto his blades. He picked up the bag and rifle. He turned to walk back to the truck where Della and Zack waited. He grimaced with each step. By the time he got within site of the truck, he was using the rifle to support his weight.
Zack jumped from the truck and raced to Steve’s side. He grabbed the bag and pulled the rifle from his hand. He slid his shoulder under Steve’s arm and took the weight off his right leg. They stumbled back to the vehicle. Della opened the passenger door and Zack eased Steve inside.
“How bad is it?” Della asked.
Steve grimaced as he eased the cuff from the stump. “Bad enough.”
Della pulled the blood filled silicone sock from the stump. The skin across the stumps was raw and angry red. Pressure sores had formed and opened. Blood seeped from the
open eruptions.
“Oh my God.” She whispered.
“I guess it’s a little worse than I thought.” Steve rubbed at the skin above the stump.
Della pulled at the second prosthetic. When it was also removed she found the skin was red and angry, but not yet blistered or broken. “Well, at least it’s not as bad as the right leg.”
“We have to get out of here,” Steve advised.
“After I clean and bandage your leg,” Della replied as she pulled the canvas bag from the back seat. “And you will not be using the blades for a while.
“Is he going to be okay?” Sandy asked.
Della nodded. “He’ll be fine.”
She finished dressing the wound then allowed Steve to turn around in the truck seat. She poured water into the silicone sock and rinsed the blood from it. She wiped both out with alcohol wipes from the first aid kit. When she was finished she picked up the blades and handed them to Sandy to store on the floor in the back seat. She closed up the bag and passed it back as well.
“Zack, get behind the wheel. We need to find a place to hide out for a few days.” Steve ordered.
Della climbed in the back seat and slammed the door. “I second that.” She passed Steve two white pills from the medical kit.
Zack turned the extended-cab pickup around and steered the pickup back on the main road. He saw a sign advertising Utopia only twenty miles ahead.
“We’re heading to Utopia? It’s pretty far off the beaten path.” Steve downed a couple Tylenol. “I’m hoping so. Let’s see what it looks like.”
The End
About the Author
Charlotte Hoaks spent the last twenty years working as a Technical Writer for some of the largest companies in Houston, Texas. Now retired, she is devoting her time and energy to a new kind of writing.
A life-long love of the written word has provided a solid foundation for her fiction writing. She’s been involved in local writer’s groups for over 30 years and published a number of on-line articles, editorials and special interest newsletter. As a founding member of the Houston Writer’s League, she organized and coordinated their first national writer’s conference.
Charlotte is now working on the second full length novel in the “Torn Apart” series. Check out book 2, “Dead Texas Road” online: http://charlottehoaks.com.
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