1
Chapter Nine
"First Blood"
While Peter focused on the Explorer following them, a second black Ford Explorer came barreling towards them from behind a tree-lined clearing. Positioned for maximum shock and surprise, they raced toward Peter's car at top speed with dirt flying in a furious cloud behind them.
Only Peter's quick reactions helped him to swerve at the last minute. The unavoidable collision was reduced to merely a blow off the back bumper, rather than the disabling impact their assailants had hoped for. Still, it was bad enough to throw their car into a wild spin on the icy road like some crazed carnival ride.
Peter did an admirable job of keeping their car from rolling over. At the speed they'd been traveling, the sudden spinning could have easily transformed into a rollover as centrifugal forces vied against the laws of gravity and velocity on the thin veneer of ice over asphalt.
Madly manipulating the steering wheel, Peter alternated with tapping on the brake and gunning gas pedal in a way that surprised even himself. Inside the vehicle, there were terrifying sounds as the car was made to do things the manufacturer never considered.
"Celeste, get down! They are firing at us!" Peter shouted over the maddening din.
He had not only heard but felt the impact of automatic weapons being fired at them as bullets slammed into their car while they spun around helplessly. Their revolving motion gave countless opportunities for their assassins to hit their intended target, but since their Explorer was also caught in the same road conditions as was the spinning car, it was impossible to adequately track their mark.
Peter was vaguely aware of windows shattering around him amidst the horrendous racket. There was no time to be bothered with shattered windows or even bullets in general.
First things first. He had to get their car out of its frantic death spin before it rolled over, and then he could deal with being outmatched by at least four-to-one in manpower. He didn't even want to think about the potential weapons cache in the other vehicles.
After what seemed like an eternity, but was really only a few long seconds, he straightened out the car's path, still feeding on its momentum,hoping to use their high velocity as an aid in their escape.
He glanced ahead, and his blood froze in his veins as he recognized the gold trimmed Explorer from the diner's parking lot,heading straight for them. It was attempting to repeat the efforts of the second black Explorer. Peter prepared himself as another imminent collision seemed inevitable.
"Brace yourself! This one's gonna hurt!" Peter warned as his mind desperately searched for options.
A glimpse in his rearview mirror revealed the rapid approach of the second Explorer behind them. 'What would Pop do here?'
As the panicked question crossed his mind, he was filled with a tremendous sense of calming serenity. His breathing steadied as his physical strength increased. Automatically, he knew the answer with every fiber of his being. An ancient teaching resurfaced in his peacefulness and the focus of his inner eye grew.
'He would center his thoughts. Move through the course of obstacles before him and find the best path. Our paths are always present, but they can only be discerned with eyes of clarity. Therefore, our path of escape is there, if only I can see it.'
Gleaning sudden inspiration from that long ago knowledge, Peter grasped the wheel firmly and jerked the steering wheel viciously to one side. Abruptly, the car became airborne, flying off the road, as if in a choreographed route of escape.
He acted just in time to avoid both Explorers as they advanced on his previous position from opposite directions, knowing they meant to catch him in some type of macabre squeeze play. He could only pray their plan would backfire on them badly.
His Crown Victoria impacted with the hard, unpaved ground of the countryside below, giving all of the occupants in the car a bone-jarring ride, landing about ten feet lower than the highway itself.
The car literally bounced along its way two or three times. Then the wheels' spun hard, digging deep into the frozen ground for traction while Peter battled to keep the forward motion of the vehicle within his control. The car fish-tailed in the uncooperative soil before speeding ahead in its frantic pace.
Still eerily calm, Peter navigated his way through countless obstacles, employing a type of driving which was never meant to be used for high speed chases and especially without four wheel drives engaged.
Peter's attention was diverted to his mirrors after hearing the satisfying screeching of tires and the inevitable sound of glass and metal colliding at high speed back on the highway behind him. He allowed himself a brief, but gratifying smile. Both vehicles
were inextricably intermeshed with one another as steam rose from the abused engines
"Yes!" the detective exclaimed.
Dazed bodies stumbled out of the two SUV's. Nearly all of the men were holding injured areas of their bodies. One or two of them were aware enough to fire a weapon in their direction, but Peter knew they had little chance of harming his passengers.
"Did you see that?" Peter called out to the others in the vehicle, still watching the aftermath unfolding in the wreckage behind them. "The idiots did themselves in! Ha! That was priceless!"
Peter was still chuckling to himself as he struggled with a sluggish steering wheel on the rugged course.
"Celeste, I'm gonna need those directions soon," Peter requested as he started to settle down a bit and studied the area ahead of them, concentrating on a spot for them to rejoin the highway.
When he didn't get an answer, he glanced back via his mirror and saw Celeste crumpled over Tommy's body. More disturbing was the fact that neither of them were moving. Peter's mind was flooded with memories of the sounds of semi-automatic weapons fire hitting their car only moments beforehand.
With his attention divided between his path and his rearview mirror, Peter anxiously watched for any signs of life. A flare of panic rose and he tried to dissuade it with sarcasm. 'Uh, Paul, it went something like this. We won the battle, but lost the war.'
Peter went to call out again, but this time his voice cracked with fear, the fear he didn't have time to acknowledge earlier. Now, he could no longer ignore it. He was facing the possibility of death in the seat behind him. Swallowing hard, he tried again and managed to sound a little stronger, "Celeste? Tommy? You two okay back there?"
The longer he went without a response from them or even the slightest movement, the more his fears multiplied. Peter's previous exuberance at evading the bad guys vanished. Slamming a fist against the steering wheel, he shouted their names again, only much louder this time, "Answer me! Dammit, Celeste Crowfoot! Scream at me and tell me every blasted thing I did wrong. Do it! Dammit to hell, just do it!"
Peter's dark eyes were riveted on the images in his mirror as he somehow kept the car moving forward without hitting anything. There was still no reply from the back of the car and no movement that he could see. It was a bumpy ride, but painfully quiet and uneventful.
There hadn't been any sign of pursuit from their attackers thus far and no way for them to do so unless there was another vehicle lying in wait somewhere else, but that thought brought him little comfort.
Scanning ahead, Peter finally spotted a place where he could move back onto the highway without too much trouble. He prayed that the two in the back seat were still alive and well. Once he was back on the road, he could pull over and check on them. Until then, he ran a high risk of getting stuck if he stopped.
Blinking rapidly, Peter felt moisture obscuring his vision on the left side of his face. Thinking it was sweat, he brushed at the dampness with the back of his right hand, only to find a wet smear of red blood across the back of his knuckles, which proceeded to run in tiny rivulets down to his wrist.
"What the hell?" he muttered.
Using the rearview mirror for his own purposes this time, he craned his head for a better view and saw a large gaping cut across the upper left portion of his temple. It was spilling blood like water through a sieve.
When did that happen? And how could he not have noticed it when it did, he wondered. There was blood all down the side of his face and already soaking into the collar and front of his shirt.
As Peter drove, he was frustrated by the fact that he had nothing within his reach to stem the flow of blood or to even clean himself up a bit. That messy job would have to wait until after he checked on the others.
Feeling the day's bitter cold for the first time since he had pulled the car over to have his 'discussion' with Celeste earlier, Peter worried over his passengers. He remembered trying to control the motion of the car, and the sound of exploding glass and decided he got his gash in those adrenaline-packed moments, never feeling the pain when it had happened.
Peter applied pressure on the injured area with his left hand. With the briefest contact, the injured area felt like it was exploding with the force of high-powered jack hammers. The edges of his vision darkened and he felt the warning signs of nausea ready to blossom into something more.
He opted to forego any further first aid while driving, noting the shattered glass of the driver's window was hanging loosely from the door's inner supports. Now, it looked like a heavily overburdened spider's web, swaying with the motion of the car as it bounced along the irregularities of the highways' asphalt.
Peter Caine was suddenly shaken by the reality of how close he had come to dying in that exchange as he stared at the shattered window and into the mirror again to view the still weeping gash. 'Was it the shattered window or a bullet that had creased my forehead?
'Get a grip, Caine! You may have dead witnesses in the back of your car and you're worrying over a little cut!'
Peter jumped violently as he felt a hand on his shoulder, almost losing control of the car. Before he had a chance to turn around, he heard Celeste's weak voice spoken with controlled fear, but there was also with a ring of compassion to it.
"Here, Detective, use this on your forehead before you bleed to death."
Reaching behind him to take the offered handkerchief, he applied it to the wound as previously numbed nerve endings continued to return to life with a vengeance. His temple was throbbing and his nausea refused to abate, but his sole focus was on his responsibilities currently residing in the back seat.
"How are you two?" Peter asked in a hurried rush as he pressed the now stained handkerchief tightly against his temple and drove one-handed. His eyes kept darting back and forth across the mirror's line of vision. He was relieved by the apparent lack of blood in the back seat, but couldn't see their entire bodies.
Celeste was rocking Tommy in her arms and only shook her head in a tightlipped reply as she hummed one of Tommy's favorite lullabies to soothe the terrified child. It was her way of saying to Peter she had no idea how bad the damage done to her nephew was.
"Was anyone shot or hurt?" Peter asked anxiously, keeping his voice down after he caught a glimpse of Tommy's near catatonic expression. Wide, unresponsive gray eyes stared off into nothing, almost without blinking. If Peter didn't know better, he would have sworn the boy was already dead.
"Only you," Celeste said, taking a brief break to reply to Peter's question before launching back into song as she brushed the fingers of one hand across the boy's eyebrow and held his head close to her lips.
Peter glanced back at her, his hazel eyes dark with guilt, "Celeste, I'm so sorry about this. If I'd been more on the ball back there-"
Celeste cut him off by saying, "This is just what Ansel warned me about before I snuck out of the hospital. They don't want me to testify and are willing to go to any lengths to keep me from doing so. This wasn't your fault. It's that little weasel's fault and I'm going to live long enough to testify against him and see him face justice out of pure spite!"
For a moment, Peter chuckled at her grit. He truly believed Celeste would just as she said. He paused for a moment. "We have two choices. One, to make for the Interstate and the state troopers in hopes they don't have another team lying in wait for us. Or two, to get off this road as soon as possible and find a phone so that the troopers can come to us. What we just encountered was a very professional job. We need to do the unexpected and do it fast."
Celeste's expression tightened even more. "What do you think is the best thing to do?"
Peter sighed and closed his eyes again, reaching deep inside for answers and direction. When he opened them again, he said, "We need to get off this road."
Celeste nodded as she continued to rock Tommy and hum into his nearby ear while she reviewed the map again. Raising her head, she said, "Another mile or two ahead, and there'll be a set of rocks stacked on top of each other. It will be on the left, marking a turnoff that lies just beyond it...You probably want to start slowing down about now. The turn you'll be making won't even look like a road. It's more of a short cut really, not on any map. It will be bumpy, but it will take us off the road and into the town of Clarion.
"There's nothing there in the way of law enforcement, but there's a general store and a telephone, so you'll can contact the state troopers. Besides, you really need to let me look at that head wound."
Peter didn't know how to take this version of Celeste Crowfoot; controlled, caring, logical...and very disconcerting. It was such an abrupt departure from the contentious woman he'd been lecturing outside the car only an hour earlier.
He caught her eye in the mirror's reflection and flashed her a small smile, but this one was from the heart as he said, "You just take care of Tommy. I'm okay."
He saw the pile of rocks sitting alongside the road ahead just as Celeste described, but he still looked in her direction for confirmation. Celeste nodded firmly as she continued to comfort the nearly comatose boy.
"And I just stay on this...path?" Peter asked, unsure of his direction.
"Yes, it will become clearer after we pass the crest of this hill. Just be glad it didn't snow last night as predicted or else, there'd be no way for us to follow it."
Peter was the one to nod appreciatively this time and no one said another word until Celeste informed him the few buildings in the distance was the 'town' of Clarion. A place not even large enough to be called a wide spot in the road, but it was now their sanctuary and possibly their only hope for survival.
oOoOoOoOo