It was not supposed to be this way.
The man gripped the leather of the wheel like his life depended on it, which it probably did. The rubber of the wheels burned as he stomped on the gas, pushing 80…85…90…
He was lucky: the bloody cut on his face sat on the bridge of his nose, so it was only the bottom half of his face that was doused in his blood. His eyes were clear, though, which was the most important thing if they wanted to stay alive.
The sirens blazing in the distance, he frequently glanced at his side and rear view mirrors, trying to calculate whether the cop cars were getting closer or farther from him. It was hard to tell.
The woman in the passenger seat had sat mostly still, with mascara running down her cheeks and her hands idle in her lap. She stares straight at the road in front of them, probably past that, into their unknown future.
"Shit," the man cursed, as the sirens grew louder.
"They're going to catch us," she whispered. Then, more panicked: "They're going to catch us. Oh my G-…." hyperventilating, she felt the substance in her stomach rise from her throat and threaten to spew out.
"Get it together!" the man yelled.
"I'm trying my best! Not everyone grew up as ruthless as you." she returned his energy. "They're going to catch us.. They're going to catch us, we're going to die.." an ugly sob shook her being. "I should have never agreed to this."
The man snarled. "I shouldn't have entertained your dumb ideas in the first place. If you hate me so much, then open the door and leave!"
Silence. And then, "I never said I hated you,"
The man sucked his teeth. "Sounded like it,"
The chase continued, but as a few moments passed, the man looked to the horizon, and found that the ever expanding road had stopped it's expansion. He saw the puny little steel guards meant to keep cars from going into the unmapped territory, as if that would stop a car nearing 95 miles per hour.
The man cursed, and the woman stiffened.
"Hey.. why aren't we stopping?"
"We're going to go through it."
She began to tremble, as did her voice. "No… you can't… we don't even know how far down the ledge is… we could die!"
"What choice do we have?!" he shouted, aggravated. "If we turn back now and get caught by them," he glanced at the blue and red in his side mirror. "..we will have a fate much worse than death. Trust me."
The woman stared at the man, really looked at him, for the first time since they had gotten into this mess. His forehead was creased in despair, and his knuckle turned white from gripping the wheel too hard. He bit his lip so hard that it was bleeding too, and that was ignoring the blood dripping from his nose.
She took his free, calloused hand in hers. "Fine! I…I trust you."
They were still a little unsure of how they got here, but they both knew now what they had to do. It was too late to turn back.
Off the cliff they went.
