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“Are you sure Dante had someone watching the cars?” Lucas shouted over the commotion.
“Dante keeps his word,” was all Manson said before he wrenched open the Mustang’s passenger door and hurried me inside. He and Lucas exchanged words, then the two parted as Lucas got into the El Camino and started her up.
“Are we really going to run from the cops?” I said, my fingers fumbling with the straps as I buckled into my seat.
Manson grinned as he cranked the key and the engine roared to life. “Damn right we are. Are you scared?”
“No,” I said. “I’m excited.”
Manson and Lucas would keep me safe. Safe from Nate, from the cops, from any other danger this night could throw our way. I wasn’t scared, but my heart was still pounding as the Mustang lurched forward. Manson laid on the horn and the people in front of us leapt back, some of them yelling furiously. Lucas drove close behind us as we slowly made our way through the crowd, moving at snail’s pace.
“Come on, motherfuckers, move!” Manson laid on the horn again, and the crowd finally parted enough to let us through.
We had togo.
Instead of trying to wedge his way onto the crowded road as the cops closed in, Manson sped toward the back of the parking lot, with Lucas close behind. The car scraped painfully as Manson hopped the curb to get to the street. A dark road ran along the backside of the lot, leading away from the chaos and into the fields.
The moment we were on open asphalt, Manson’s speed increased. We were flying down an unknown road in the dead of night, and we swiftly surpassed 100mph. Dark shapes flew by on either side, faster and faster as Manson shifted through the gears.
My cell vibrated, and I looked down to see an incoming call from Lucas. I picked up, and before I could get a word out, he said, “People are tailing us. I don’t know who the hell it is, but it ain’t cops.”
“Shit,” I hissed, and Manson looked over at me in alarm. “Lucas says people are tailing us.”
“He’s sure they’re not just running too?” he said, and Lucas heard him without me having to repeat the message.
“Considering one of them tried to fucking sideswipe me, I don’t think so,” he said.
Turning in my seat, I looked out the back window. At first, all I could see was the harsh glare of Lucas’s headlights. But then, another vehicle sped up alongside him, surpassing him and gaining on us.
“Shit, Manson, they’re getting close,” I said. He’d already noticed them; his gaze kept darting towards the mirrors, keeping an eye on every side of the vehicle. While one vehicle was gaining on our left, another suddenly appeared, speeding up on our right.
It was difficult to see in the dark, but I was almost certain who was following us. On the left was a gray Mercedes. On the right...a red Hellcat.
“Fucking McAllister,” Manson said. “These assholes don’t know when to quit. Shit.” He slammed his palm against the wheel suddenly. “Tell Lucas we have another problem. I’m really low on fuel.”
Glancing at his fuel gauge, I found the indicator to be well within the red. For the first time that night, fear stabbed into me. We were going so fast, and with only our headlights illuminating the road, Manson’s sight was limited.
We were close to 120mph.
Lucas suddenly yelled in my ear, “Fuck, they’re going to —”
There was a loud bang, the impact throwing me to the side as the Mustang swerved erratically. I screamed, nearly dropping the phone as Manson struggled to get the car steady again. The Hellcat had swiped the back bumper, and was already pushing its speed to try again.
“They’re going to run us off the road,” I said, my voice shaking. “Shit, Manson...shit...”
“They’re not going to do a damn thing,” Manson said. His eyes kept darting towards his fuel gauge, even as his speed kept climbing.
“Put me on speaker,” Lucas said, and I quickly did so. “Listen, there should be a crossroads coming up. Look for the train tracks, then take a hard left as soon as you pass them.”
Manson nodded, his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel. There was a sudden sharp glare of light in the side mirror, and Lucas’s headlights swerved behind us as the Hellcat veered toward him.
“Shit!” he yelled. “They’re trying to fucking kill us, Manson.”
Manson grit his teeth. “Can you get beside me and box them out?”
“No. They’re on both sides, I’ve got no room to move.”
“This is fucked,” Manson snarled. “The car is running on fumes, I can’t keep this speed.”
