"Thanks," he sighs, laughing as he runs a hand through his hair."That was nerve-wracking.Like I was doing something wrong by giving him a consequence."
"It's hard at first," I admit."You don't feel like you're in a position of authority.It takes a while to get comfortable with it, but once you do, it's easier."
We walk back over to the truck, and head back out on the road.
We're maybe ten minutes back into our patrol route when a truck comes flying past us going the opposite direction, weaving hard enough between the center line and the shoulder that I catch it in my side mirror before I even fully realize what I'm looking at.
"Whoa."Van twists around in his seat, looking back through the rear window."Did you see that?"
"Yeah, I saw it."I'm already flipping a U-turn in the middle of the road, tires kicking up gravel from the shoulder."That's not just an asshole in a hurry.That's somebody who shouldn't be behind the wheel."
Technically it's not our usual jurisdiction, Fish and Wildlife doesn't run traffic stops the way regular patrol does, but a truck weaving like that is going to end up wrapped around a tree or in somebody's front yard if nobody steps in, and I'm not about to drive past it and pretend like I didn't see it.
"You want me to call it in?"Van's already got his hand on the radio.
"Yeah, get dispatch, tell them we're following a vehicle showing signs of impaired or erratic driving, and get me a plate read the second you can see it clearly."
We close the distance fast, my gut telling me that whoever this is, is running from something for a reason.Van leans forward, squinting at the plate as we pull in close enough to read it.
"Got it.Sending it through now."He rattles the plate number into the radio, and I keep my eyes locked on the truck ahead of us, watching it drift again, correcting hard, drifting back the other direction like whoever's driving can't decide which lane they belong in.
The response comes back through Van's radio faster than I expect."Vehicle registered to Gerald Simmons, current address listed at…"
I don't hear the rest of it, because my whole body goes cold and then hot in the same breath, adrenaline slamming through me so hard my hands tighten on the wheel until my knuckles ache.
"That's him."My voice comes out pissed and sharp, every instinct in me screaming to close the gap between our vehicles and drag that son of a bitch out through his windshield myself."That's the guy who attacked Macie."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure."I flip on the lights, siren cutting through the quiet stretch of road, and the truck ahead of us reacts immediately, gunning it instead of slowing down, exactly like I figured he would."Dispatch, be advised, suspect vehicle is fleeing, requesting backup along County Road 12 heading toward the Calvert line."
"Copy, units are en route."
Van grips the door handle as I push the truck faster, keeping pace with Gerald as it swerves around a slower car ahead of it, nearly clipping a guardrail in the process.My heart's pounding, not from fear, but from fucking rage, watching this man drive like he's got nothing left to lose, knowing exactly what he did to Macie, knowing he's the reason she flinches sometimes at sudden noises, the reason her apartment got torn apart, the reason she's had to rebuild her whole sense of safety from scratch.
"He's not slowing down," Van says, voice tight.
"No shit."I ease off slightly on a curve, not willing to lose control of my own vehicle chasing a man who's already proven he doesn't care what he destroys getting away."Radio ahead, see if anyone can set up a spike strip before the county line."
"On it."Van relays the request, and I catch the response crackling back that nobody's close enough to get one down in time.
We stay locked onto the truck for another two miles, speed climbing higher than is really safe on a road this narrow, trees blurring past on both sides.Gerald's truck fishtails coming around a bend, and for one gut-dropping second I think he's about to lose it completely, flip the thing into the ditch, but he corrects at the last second, tires screaming against asphalt before he straightens back out.
"Darren."Van's voice cuts through my focus."We're coming up on the county line."
I already know it.I can see the sign up ahead, faded green with white lettering marking the boundary between our jurisdiction and Calvert County, and every part of me wants to keep pushing through it anyway, wants to chase this bastard straight into whatever hole he's trying to disappear into.
But I can't.Crossing that line without proper coordination isn't just against protocol, it's a mistake that gets cases thrown out, gets officers in serious trouble, gets exactly nothing accomplished except putting more people at risk on roads I don't know as well as my own.
"Dispatch, suspect is crossing into Calvert County, requesting they pick up pursuit on their end."My voice comes out steady even though everything inside me is full of anxiety."We are disengaging at the county line per protocol."
"Copy that, Officer Kepler, we're relaying to Calvert County dispatch now."
I ease off the gas, watching Gerald's taillights shrink ahead of us as the distance between our vehicles stretches wider with every second, and it takes everything in me not to slam my hand against the steering wheel hard enough to hurt.We slow to a stop right at the county line, engine idling, both of us watching that truck disappear over the next rise like it's mocking us on its way out.
"Son of a bitch."I grip the wheel tight enough my knuckles go white, watching the empty road ahead where his taillights used to be."He's getting away."
"Calvert's picking it up, right?"Van glances over at me, and I can hear the uncertainty in his voice, like he's not sure whether I'm about to lose it or just sit here pissed off.
