“Christ, Book,” the female cop chuckled. “Didn’t realize one girl would be too much for you. Let me know if you need a hand.”
The other two officers echoed her laughter. Booker glared at all of them.
“Shut the fuck up. Both now and when we get back. I don’t need Kieran getting on my ass just because he didn’t train his bitch to—”
The air turned blurry, and Booker’s voice transitioned into a sudden gurgle. He staggered back, pressing his hand against the side of his throat.
“Book?” the woman said. “Come on, quit playing. It’s not funny.”
Booker didn’t answer. Instead, he stumbled forward, all but crashing against the side of his car, right next to where Harper was sitting. She blinked, focus finally restored, though part of her wished it hadn’t.
Blood was gushing out between his fingers.
Before she could react, the air blurred again, followed by a grunt and then a wet rattling. Harper looked towards the sound, seeing the female cop stumble to the side.
She opened her mouth, producing a choked grunt of a noise, before blood spilled between her teeth. It coated her lips, her chin, and then her fingers as she pressed them against a bloody wound on the side of her throat.
She drew her gun and pointed it at the dark trees. Someone yelled. The air blurred again. A scream followed.
Then rapid gunfire filled the night.
Harper ducked, covering her head with her arms as shouts and curses mixed with the popping sounds of firearms. A bullet fired through one of the side mirrors of the police car, making glass and plastic rain down on the asphalt.
Booker was getting to his feet, hand still pressed against his throat. Teeth gritted, he lunged for her and closed his hand around her wrist.
She darted away, throwing all her weight into the escape attempt. She didn’t expect it to do anything, given how easily he’d held onto her before, but her moving away was unhindered. As though he hadn’t grabbed her at all.
Was he too distracted by the chaos to hold on to her? Had he been hit? Was that why he was screaming?
And why could she still feel his grip around her wrist?
“Oh,fuckno!” Harper tore the dead fingers off her arm, crawling back from the severed hand now lying on the asphalt.
The cut was clean, as though made with a razor, but she hadn’t seen any weapon. She couldn’t see anything but blurred air, whirling snow, and flashes of gunfire.
Ignoring that she was about to run through a hailstorm of bullets, Harper stood and sprinted towards the sedan. She nearly slipped on the icy road, only thinking to keep her head down when she all but fell into the driver’s seat.
“Are you hurt?” Patricia asked. Harper slammed the door shut, locking it.
“I’m alright. I think.”
Nell let out a frightened squeak. “Th-there’s blood on your arm.”
Harper’s stomach turned. Her jacket sleeve was covered in dark red stains.
“It’s not mine.” Harper turned the ignition, and the engine rattled. “It’s from that cop. But I don’t know how he even—”
Something slammed against the side of the sedan. The female cop was pulling at the locked car door, face twisted in pain. On account of her arm being bent in the wrong direction.
Harper turned the key again, and the car caught the hint this time and sputtered to life. She put it in reverse, backing the sedan so hard into the police car that it rolled back a couple of feet.
Glancing at the rearview mirror, she spotted Booker. He had gotten himself inside his car, blood splattering from his wrist onto the inside of the windows.
No longer boxed in, Harper put the car into drive and floored the accelerator. The wheels spun against the slushy ground before finally catching and letting her swerve onto the road.
Behind them, flashes of fire cut through the darkness, followed by a single headlight from Booker’s car, since the other one was shattered. It screeched onto the road, but rather than pursue, it swung around, red taillights growing smaller as it sped away.
The frightened shouts faded. As did the gunfire. The flashing police lights remained clear for another minute before the road curved, and they too vanished.
