Chapter 6 – Hunter-seeker

The van roared out of the docks and on to the main road. The low-rider swung around closely, grazing the side of the wall as the over steer got the better of Franco.

"Fuck sake Franco" cursed Carlos, his stomach churning.

"Shoot you dick" shouted Miguel, infuriated by his guard's lack of balls.

Miguel grabbed Franco's semi-automatic and, leaning out of the car, fired several bursts. Carlos followed suit, breaking the glass of the van's wing mirror.

The low-rider accelerated, barely holding on to the van. Yen swerved to avoid an oncoming car, mounting the pavement. He wrenched the handbrake and the van squealed down the side-street.

"Shit" cursed Franco as he drove past the entrance. Quickly reversing, he swung the car back round and stamped on the gas, the low-rider fighting this aggressive driving style.

Miguel watched the erratic Yen navigate the narrow side-streets of Layman, the low-rider not getting close enough to justify a pot shot. He looked around, surprised by what he saw behind him.

"Holy fuck!" he shouted "We got company!"

As he had watched the streets around him, trying to work out where they were heading, he'd caught a glimpse of the raging motorcade that had torn around the streets, catching the low-rider. There were three jet-black saloons and a half a dozen motorbikes; a hail of bullets bursting from the uzi-toting gunmen.

The bullets whizzed past the low-rider, a few penetrating the windscreen. Using the butt of his shotgun, Miguel smashed out the rest of the glass, the cracks hindering Franco's vision.

Miguel spun around and took aim with the shotgun. He targeted the cars and fired, the shell grazing the body. Miguel snapped the shotgun back and took aim again. He felt a bullet whiz past his head. He squeezed the trigger. This time his aim proved true and he hit the driver, the car spinning around as the gunman slumped back in his seat. Miguel could only help but smile as the car flew into a spin, knocking two of the motorcyclists off their bikes.

"Hold on!" shouted Franco as he pulled up the hand-brake, copying Yen's sudden change in direction. The tyres of the low-rider screeched as the car straightened up from the handbrake turn. Miguel tumbled back into his seat. He could still see Yen, the blacked out van impossible to miss.

"We're heading for the highway!" shouted Miguel, the high acceleration making it difficult to talk.

The motorbikes accelerated as Carlos fired burst after burst, knocking one of the gunmen to the floor. They pulled up along side, the rider raised his uzi and unstable, he fired wildly.

"Duck!" shouted Miguel.

The barrage flew over the top of the low-rider, narrowly avoiding Miguel's head. He grabbed his shotgun and quickly stood up. He fired, knocking the cyclists off his bike, the force of the shell puncturing his chest. Miguel's smile quickly turned sour as he looked at the corpse next to him. Carlos was dead, his chest riddled with tiny holes. Blood soaked the interior.

"Fuck" cursed Miguel, throwing the shotgun down and reloading the semi-automatic.

"He's on the ramp, we're on the highway!" shouted Franco, following Yen as he joined the exceptionally busy express route.

"Keep on him, we might be able to lose these assholes" said Miguel. He'd lost sight of the cars but the two remaining bikes were quickly gaining, the low-rider slowed as it tried to navigate the speeding traffic.

Franco watched as the van shunted a small car out of the way, the tiny vehicle colliding with a saloon. The car crumpled and forcefully came to a stop. Franco swung the wheel to the right, avoiding the wreck. Miguel had lost sight of the bikes; they had been slowed by the pile-up that had followed the accident. He suspected the police would be on his tail soon.

He sat back down into his seat, the wind pulling his hair around his face. The low-rider was at its limit, no more acceleration would come out of it. The van was still ahead, forcefully scything through the traffic.

"He's braking!" exclaimed Franco as he watched Yen hit the off ramp. Franco swerved left, cutting across a van to get to the ramp in time. They felt a small shunt from behind as Franco clipped the car behind. The back-end flew out, the car spinning wildly.

"Hit the brakes!" shouted Miguel.

Franco stamped on the pedal, slowing the car down as it span madly. He brought it to a stop mere inches away from the wall.

"You crazy asshole!" shouted a man. He was getting out of the car.

"Drive Franco, Drive!"

The low-rider screamed as it pulled off, the man in the car launching several shots from his pistol.

"Crazy motherfuckers" he exclaimed as he got back in his car…

x

Yen sped on. He hadn't seen where the low-rider had gone and now he was seeing them everywhere. He'd hit downtown, and the Roses where out in force. Everywhere he looked there was a red Savanna.

Undeterred he checked his remaining wing mirror. Nothing. Yen exhaled, the adrenaline in his veins wearing off. He still had the money but his boss was not going to be happy with this. He slowed the van down as not to raise suspicion. He could already hear the sirens in the distance. He needed to hide…

x

The low-rider prowled downtown, its engine sounded beaten; its body work scratched and riddled with bullet holes.

Miguel rubbed his chin; he recognised this area from last night. Coincidence maybe, but it was strange how both Conway and Yen came to the same area.

"We'll have to be careful," he said, "This is Roses' turf"

"Yeah, there are low-riders everywhere. Boss?" started Franco.

"What?"

"I think we've lost him…wait, there! By the traffic lights!"

The black van revved its engine and shot forward, Yen had seen the low-rider too. Franco floored the gas pedal, the back end fighting back. Wheels spinning, the low-rider lurched forward. The chase was back on.

Yen threw the van up a gear, the time spent working on the vans proved invaluable as it sped forward with ease. He heard the sound of the semi-automatic popping as Miguel aimed for the tyres. He knew he needed to get rid of them. Yen lifted the handbrake and spun the van around to face the chasing hunters; the low-rider colliding with the heavy bumper of the van. Both drivers jerked forward, the impact proving immense. Stunned by the impact, Yen found reverse and sped off, wiping the sweat and blood from his face.

"What the fuck?!" said Miguel, bewildered by the oriental's drastic tactics.

Franco moaned, his face had crashed into the steering wheel. His nose was a bloody mess; dislodged and crooked. Starting the engine again, Franco regained focus, ignoring the pain. After all, they could still see the van. Miguel stared down the boulevard at the vehicle noticing something was wrong. The van had become slow after the impact.

"Move!" shouted Miguel, willing the low-rider to accelerate.

Yen watched his mirrors as he stuttered down the main drag, he could see the scarlet hunter gaining on the damaged van, the low-rider growling against the pressure it was under. He knew Layman well but what happened next took him by surprise. He'd forgotten about the railway line that crossed the city. And there it was. He watched as, up ahead, the barriers came down. He checked his mirror again, the low-rider still not close enough to catch him. Fuck it he thought, slamming his foot on the gas.

"Miguel! I can see a fucking train!" screamed Franco. They were still too far behind Yen to catch him in time. Miguel stared stunned as the van ploughed through the barriers, the train narrowly avoiding the back of the van.

"The brakes have gone!" Franco yelled horrified. They had too much momentum. They were going to collide with the train…