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From where I stood, there were slim pickings at the late hour on a weekday. In my opinion, our best bets were the two older model Honda Civics and the one two-door Lexus.
“I’ve got this one.” Carter pointed to the Lexus. “Get the Civics.”
Mmm, Batman knows his cars, too. At least we were on the same page.
Carter wasted no time breaking into the Lexus, never setting off an alarm. And Jesse went for one of the two Civics and got to work.
Without waiting for the go-ahead, I pulled my hand from Jack’s and went to the early nineties Honda Civic SI. Mere moments later, the driver’s door was open, and I had the car started.
I rummaged through my memory about the car’s particular facts. They’d been super popular back in the day, and Mom used to make me memorize different features about cars. A turbocharged 1.5-liter four-cylinder under the hood that’d give us 192 pound-feet of torque. With the six-speed manual transmission, we’ll be in good shape with this one. It was almost as if that’d been Mom’s voice in my head, not my own. “Mind if I drive?” I asked Jack.
His lips tilted into an unexpected smile. “I’d mind if you didn’t.” He opened his palm and motioned toward the driver’s side. “Please.” He urged Lucy to hop into the back seat, and she gave me a hesitant look—like she was unsure if she wanted to share the same air with me—but thankfully, she quietly slid into the back seat.
Once behind the wheel, I didn’t miss the way Lucy sat behind the passenger seat, knees turned toward the door, arms folded, and eyes out the window. Yeah, you’re pissed. I get it. Hate it. But need you to live, so, I’m ignoring it. For now.
“Shit,” Jack said while getting into the car, then he rolled down his window. “Two police cruisers just pulled into the parking lot. We don’t know if they’re here for us but head out cautiously.”
As if on cue, the police car lights both flicked on, and they began our way. Not a great sign.
“If they pursue, just lose them. We’ll find each other after that.” Gray handed Jack a phone through the window, then hopped into the passenger seat of the other Civic.
Without hesitating, I took off, and we split into three directions. The two police cruisers chose to follow Carter’s Lexus and my Civic. Guess that answered the question if they were there for us. At least Jesse’s Civic was without heat.
Not even two seconds onto the road, and they were boldly shooting at us.
“Cartel must’ve sent them. Not the Feds,” Jack hissed, grabbing his gun. But instead of shooting back out his open window, he rested the weapon on his thigh, and I had to remind myself they were still police officers hunting us, even if the cartel paid them off. “You okay?” He looked back at my sister, and when I checked on her in the mirror, I saw her gripping the back of his seat, barely managing to hide the terror in her eyes.
Lucy gave him a tight nod, and then I ordered, “Buckle up.”
Thankfully, she did as I asked, and then I strapped in. I needed to completely focus on the vehicle if I was going to turn the Civic into something that could outperform a cop car.
“It’s not the car that makes a race. It’s the driver.” Mom’s words came back to me, giving me the confidence boost I needed to do this.
I kept my eyes on the road, because where my eyes went, so would the car, and I needed to keep us from crashing.
“There. Turn onto that busier street,” Jack directed, pointing up ahead. “They’re less likely to shoot at us with other cars around.”
Once there, I weaved in and out of traffic, glad—if not a little surprised—Jack was right.
I leaned away from the steering wheel at the perfect arm’s length to comfortably drive fast. There was a sharp turn just ahead, and I reduced my speed and applied the brakes at the right time to lose the unwanted speed at the apex, allowing me to maintain control of the car. The second the wheels were straight, I accelerated and flew forward.
Jack and Lucy kept quiet, and all I could hear was my own pulse in my ears.
The Civic SI had a more aerodynamic body with a greater wheelbase than some of the other models, and I did my best to use that to my advantage, but we still couldn’t seem to shake the police cruiser.
“How’s the gas tank?” Jack leaned over to check while asking. “Half a tank. Good.”
“Are you okay?” my sister asked, still clutching hold of Jack’s seat.
“I will be when we lose them,” I rasped. “Give me a second.” After checking my mirrors, clocking their location, I took another turn, then depressed the clutch to disengage the engine from the wheels as I let my foot off the accelerator. I moved the shifter up to the next highest gear, then released the clutch while pressing down on the gas, and I was about to floor it when a better idea hit me. A move Mom had taught me. And that one-second feeling came to mind. “Everyone, hold on.” I pulled a quick U-turn, purposefully spinning the car fast before braking hard. “My turn to play chicken.”
Facing the police car, along with other vehicles, I gunned it in the same lane as the cruiser, preparing to go head-to-head with them. At the last second, I shifted around them and jumped the median, practically flying over the divider in the road, before landing in the lane, heading back in the natural direction of traffic going the opposite way of the cruiser.
As I accelerated down the road, Jack twisted to look behind us and let out an uncharacteristic whoop. “Nice fucking job.”
“Thanks. Did we lose them?”
“You bought us time and distance. Time to get off the main highway and lose them for good,” Jack said, pointing to the next exit.
