AllFreeNovel
Share Us
One down.
Buckle up, motherfuckers.
Daddy didn’t only train me to loot people’s secrets. He taught me how to handle a damn car. My rear wheels sputter, showers of muck raining down like a fuck-off shield.
The SUV revs in aggression and impatiently weaves to edge out the pickup truck beside me, but that’s not where I’m going. I jump the median, yank the emergency brake, andspin to face the opposite direction with a judder. Then, I flip that cocksucker off, wrench the gearshift, hammer the gas pedal, and veer right toward the highway. I’d prefer to lead them onto a country road with less innocents, but the snowplows decided the back roads weren’t a priority, so I’m opting not to sacrifice speed and strand myself like a sitting snowman.
Shifting with a jerk, I trek up the on-ramp, sirens blaring in thedistance and a chorus of horns fading. My little stunt, switching directions, left the dickwads quite a ways back in the slush. Whizzing in and out of rush-hour traffic, I put as much distance as possible between us while assuring they don’t lose me.
That’s not the goal.
I bolt in between several more cars before sliding smoothly into the right lane and careening down the exit ramp to the next town over—less people here, and like the west end of Royal Oaks, where my mom is being held, there are some abandoned buildings.
My tires squeal while shifting roughly on a turn, filling me with confidence that even my moronic shadows will estimate my location. There’s an old school here, used for a haunted fair in the fall, but eerily empty now. The icy oaks reach their fingered branches out in warning, but I’m in too deep to heed it.
I tuck the car in tight behind an area of the building that juts out but leave it running in case I need to flee. The red and white taillights serve as a beacon, ricocheting off the sparkling trees to reflect onto the windows of the school in an optical illusion of my positioning.
Taking out the 6.5 Creedmoor sniper rifle with incendiary rounds, I perch it on my rolled-down window, look through the scope, and wait. The crisp air stings my eyes, cheeks, and nose as my breath imparts a daunting puff of white. My angle will grant me a glimpse of their approach before they have a grasp on my precise placement.
Suspended in a tinderbox of ticking seconds.
The SUV is first on the scene. The crunch of its tires through the wet, crinkly snow reaches my ears seconds prior to the sighting. The waning sunlight bounces off the icy landscape, shimmering a stream of white illumination onto the windshield.
Two tatted monsters. Guns drawn. Mean mugs.
Gas tank on the driver’s side.
I aim and fire.
And rocket to the other side of the car from the blast.
Fuck me. My ribs. My head.
Bonked and bloody.
Dazed.
Shaking myself free from the fog descending upon me, I shove the passenger door open, climb out in an ungraceful flop to my knees, and conceal my body behind the Porsche. The crossover utility vehicle pulls in, and I lift my rifle again, bracing it on the trunk.
I’m thrust backward with a stabbing jolt before I fire.
Leveled to the crunchy snow.
Shot.
Fuck.
My lungs burn.
I frantically check myself. Frozen fingers swiping and patting over my trembling body.
The vest. Shot on top of the vest.
Jesus, Dad, you saved my life again.
Clambering my way back to a stooping stance, I ignore the fiery sting licking at my chest and ribs, peek around the bumper, raise my gun, and aim at the gas tank on the crossover, which is still inching toward me.
Another monster. On foot. In pursuit.
