The Story of Max Cale
by pari106
pari106@hotmail.com
http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html
Disclaimer and rating found in chapter 1.
Chapter 13
Both Logan and Syl froze in place. In the rearview mirror the flashing lights of a patrol car appeared over
the horizon, closing in fast. Syl scrambled into the passenger seat.
"Shit!" they cussed, simultaneous yet again. Logan looked amused; Syl glared at him. Surprisingly, Logan
was the first to recover.
"Give me your gun."
"What?"
Syl looked at the human as if he'd lost his mind. But Logan's eyes stayed firmly on the rearview mirror.
Logan sighed. "Look, I can't sit here while that policeman walks over, knowing you have a gun. The
last thing we need right now is for you to shoot a cop."
"I'm not going to shoot a cop."
Despite her words, Syls's fingers tapped against the weapon in her hand as she watched the cop car stop
about a foot behind them on the shoulder.
Logan frowned.
"Why don't we just removed the temptation?"
"No!"
"Getting caught with an unregistered weapon – I assume it's unregistered – here in Wyoming is not going
to help you," he told her.
Syl didn't dispute the illegal status of her gun.
"Why don't I just shoot you now? That'll help me considerably," she snapped.
She was being irrational, and she knew it. She had a habit of lashing out first, and thinking second, when
she was angry. Zack had accused her of it time and time again. The fact that this stranger was nearly
smirking at her, the same accusation in his eyes, made Syl only want to do more of the same. But she
realized that this argument was becoming stupid.
The patrolman was getting out of his car.
"Uh…I don't think having a corpse in the car would help you very much, either," Logan interjected then.
He had a point. Syl didn't like it, but he had a point.
And he was giving her that *look*. That 'aren't I reasonable, do as I say' look she'd seen him give some
of his late-night contacts from afar. She'd always thought he was insufferably cute when he got that look.
If she hadn't, Logan might have been safe in the gesture. But as it was, the *look* just raised Syl's ire even
further. This guy was an arrogant prick researching Manticore. What right did he have to be so cute?
Regardless, the policeman was walking towards them. Syl shoved her piece in the waistband of her jeans.
"Happy now?"
"Nope."
Then he did something so unthinkable, Syl, with her super fast reflexes, didn't even think to block his
movements.
He reached over and grabbed her gun.
He grabbed *Syl's* gun.
Syl, who had once broken her own brother's leg for snooping around the personal arsenal she kept at her
place.
Then he slipped the gun into the back waistband of his slacks.
"Now I'm happy."
"You…"
But Syl didn't have time to protest further. Because then the cop was at Logan's window, and he had a
finger on the switch to roll it down. Syl felt the adrenaline rush that always accompanied the anticipation
of battle.
"Let me do the talking," Logan told her. All she could do was nod and try to keep still.
Then he pushed the switch.
'Show time,' Logan thought, kneading the steering wheel nervously.
'At least she's disarmed now.'
He wished that thought made him feel safer, but somehow it didn't.
by pari106
pari106@hotmail.com
http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html
Disclaimer and rating found in chapter 1.
Chapter 13
Both Logan and Syl froze in place. In the rearview mirror the flashing lights of a patrol car appeared over
the horizon, closing in fast. Syl scrambled into the passenger seat.
"Shit!" they cussed, simultaneous yet again. Logan looked amused; Syl glared at him. Surprisingly, Logan
was the first to recover.
"Give me your gun."
"What?"
Syl looked at the human as if he'd lost his mind. But Logan's eyes stayed firmly on the rearview mirror.
Logan sighed. "Look, I can't sit here while that policeman walks over, knowing you have a gun. The
last thing we need right now is for you to shoot a cop."
"I'm not going to shoot a cop."
Despite her words, Syls's fingers tapped against the weapon in her hand as she watched the cop car stop
about a foot behind them on the shoulder.
Logan frowned.
"Why don't we just removed the temptation?"
"No!"
"Getting caught with an unregistered weapon – I assume it's unregistered – here in Wyoming is not going
to help you," he told her.
Syl didn't dispute the illegal status of her gun.
"Why don't I just shoot you now? That'll help me considerably," she snapped.
She was being irrational, and she knew it. She had a habit of lashing out first, and thinking second, when
she was angry. Zack had accused her of it time and time again. The fact that this stranger was nearly
smirking at her, the same accusation in his eyes, made Syl only want to do more of the same. But she
realized that this argument was becoming stupid.
The patrolman was getting out of his car.
"Uh…I don't think having a corpse in the car would help you very much, either," Logan interjected then.
He had a point. Syl didn't like it, but he had a point.
And he was giving her that *look*. That 'aren't I reasonable, do as I say' look she'd seen him give some
of his late-night contacts from afar. She'd always thought he was insufferably cute when he got that look.
If she hadn't, Logan might have been safe in the gesture. But as it was, the *look* just raised Syl's ire even
further. This guy was an arrogant prick researching Manticore. What right did he have to be so cute?
Regardless, the policeman was walking towards them. Syl shoved her piece in the waistband of her jeans.
"Happy now?"
"Nope."
Then he did something so unthinkable, Syl, with her super fast reflexes, didn't even think to block his
movements.
He reached over and grabbed her gun.
He grabbed *Syl's* gun.
Syl, who had once broken her own brother's leg for snooping around the personal arsenal she kept at her
place.
Then he slipped the gun into the back waistband of his slacks.
"Now I'm happy."
"You…"
But Syl didn't have time to protest further. Because then the cop was at Logan's window, and he had a
finger on the switch to roll it down. Syl felt the adrenaline rush that always accompanied the anticipation
of battle.
"Let me do the talking," Logan told her. All she could do was nod and try to keep still.
Then he pushed the switch.
'Show time,' Logan thought, kneading the steering wheel nervously.
'At least she's disarmed now.'
He wished that thought made him feel safer, but somehow it didn't.