So I lied. Decided to post a few more chapters before farm duties call again. Today we're processing chickens and Annabelle the cow's stall needs some serious cleaning. Definitely looking forward to fall and cooler temps. I hope you enjoy these few chapters. As usual, things always get worse before they get better. Hang tight, y'alls.
Beyond the stillness and uncertainty, it was only the incessant pounding of his frantic heart that disrupted Mike's thinking, adrenaline threatening to take the upper hand where logic should guide his actions.
The car was empty, that much they could see from afar.
No other traffic was nearby, no sign of foul play, nobody hiding within sight.
It was easy to assume that the car was being used as the cheese in the mousetrap, meant to lure them from the protective cover of the Galaxy out into the open. Whether it was filled with explosives that could detonate upon their approach…or Esteban was hiding someplace, ready to open fire on them like a hunter during a mass deer cull was left to be determined.
"How do you want to proceed?"
Steve never took his eyes off the sportscar, leaning slightly forward and holding on to the steering wheel with a death grip. Beneath the collar of the mandarin dress shirt, Mike could see streaks of red appear along his neck, his breathing so fast that it shook his whole body.
"Well, I think it's time we stop doing what he wants us to do and start changing things up. I want you to back up. Nice and slow."
With the faintest of nods, Steve reached for the gear shaft by the dash and set the large sedan in motion. In the meantime, Mike grabbed the radio receiver, leaning slightly toward the drivers' side to catch a glimpse of the mileage gauge by the odometer.
"All units in the vicinity, this is Inspectors 8-1. Suspect vehicle has been located…seven miles outside city limits, parked across both lanes of traffic. Please proceed with extreme caution. Suspect still at large, I repeat, suspect is still at large."
As the red sportscar slowly faded from view once again, Mike reached for his revolver, knowing well enough that they were far from being out of danger. Next to him, Steve had his right arm stretched out across the front bench, his neck cranked at an uncomfortable angle as he navigated the large sedan backward around a sharp curve.
"Keep your eyes and ears open, Buddyboy…", the Lieutenant whispered forebodingly as he turned around in his seat, trying to catch a glimpse of the mountainside nearby; each one of the majestic pines acting as an attractive hideout for their killer.
Suddenly, a loud blast tore through the tense silence and shook the car, followed by the unmistakable noise of a blown tire. Just as the driver's side rear of the Galaxy slowly sank toward the asphalt, another gunshot rang out, aiming for the front tire but missing it and hitting the radiator instead.
A cloud of white smoke erupted from the grill of the unmarked police car as Steve frantically shifted gears, the three good tires spinning as he launched the tan sedan forward again in a futile attempt to temporarily escape the hail of bullets coming from behind.
"Shove it up against the other car, we can use it as a cover!", Mike screamed and turned around completely, hoping to see the position of their attacker through the rear window.
Menacingly slow, Esteban appeared from behind a large tree trunk and climbed down the steep embankment onto the road, his machine gun at the ready, a smile on his lips, as he followed the trail of the ailing police car.
Mike knew that time was of the essence as they approached the parked coupe way too fast, the Galaxy's engine hissing in angry protest, sparks flying from the trunk where they were driving on nothing but the rim. Fumes of melting rubber and frying electronics filled the cabin, causing his throat to burn excruciatingly.
The little bit of distance they'd put between themselves and Esteban seemed miniscule, not nearly enough to warrant their safety, when the killer slowed down and lifted his weapon once again.
"Watch out!", Mike yelled in despair and reached for the back of his Steve's neck, forcing his head down and out of the way just in time before a hail of bullets shattered the rear window and took out the driver's side mirror.
Chunks of the front bench cushion sailed through the air from a direct hit just inches above the young Inspector's left shoulder, while another shot entered the air vent next to the steering wheel, causing more gas and debris to fill the cab.
This time around, the front tire took a direct hit, causing the Galaxy to lean heavily toward the left on its collision course with the red sportscar.
Unable to see with his head pushed out of the way, Steve overcorrected the tan sedan too far to the right, temporarily losing his grasp on the steering wheel altogether, when a large root near the edge of the road shook the car and its occupants.
"Let go of me!", the young Inspector protested and emerged from his involuntary cover, but it was too late.
The zigzag driving pattern had pushed them too close to the edge of the road and the soft ground finally gave, causing the Galaxy to lose footing and begin its tumultuous slide down the steep ravine.